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chaoticevilbean · 4 years ago

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Another Star Wars AU, TBN*

*To-Be-Named

I love time travel. A lot. So here is a time-travel au, with the CW trio.

Somehow, perhaps by touching a Sith artifact, perhaps by the Force deciding they should, perhaps from some sort of weird ritual the locals were performing that the trio didn't know about, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Anakin, Rex, and Cody travel aback in time.

[Please keep in mind that Canon Timeline has died tragically in a fire, and I am but the weeping widow with an inheritance.]

Due to whatever happened, they all also end up (technically) deaging. They still have their memories and their knowledge and skills, just stuck in smaller bodies. They can think and act like adults, but they also have to struggle a bit more to implement Older Skills in Younger Bodies.

Ahsoka is 2. She's nubby. She's emotional. She's tired and sore from her deaging.

She wakes up in someone's office. She's in a spinny chair, a big one with leather padding. It's kind-of chilly in the room.

She's not thinking, because all her brain is putting together is that she's still tired. She grabs the jacket off the back of the chair and pulls it over herself. She goes back to sleep.

Rex and Cody wake up together.

They are their actual age, which is to say they're both about eleven.

They find themselves on Mandalore. In the more wild areas.

(let me believe that there are parts of the planet that aren't covered in city)

(also, this is the Mandalore in the cartoons)

They find a teen trying to wake them both up. Rex has absolutely no clue what's going on. Cody has a vague idea, because this girl looks very similar to a picture he once saw...

Obi-Wan does not fare as well. He is 3.

He wakes up in someone's arms. He's just as tired and sore as the other three. However, he's also got more awareness because he's in someone's arms.

He looks up to see who's carrying him.

He looks around at the people walking with them.

He starts crying. He cannot help this, as he is suddenly flooded with Emotions, and he is Smol. Smol = harder to handle Emotions.

Because Qui-Gon is walking right next to him, tapping away on a holopad as they go. Dooku is on his other side, on a comm call where both parties sound very tired.

And Obi-Wan is being held... by Obi-Wan.

So, yeah, not that great for a suddenly Smol Obi.

Now, Anakin is 8, so he's better off in that perspective.

But he wakes up on some remote planet without anyone around. He just was in the middle of a group, so he ends up kinda panicking.

Then he hears something coming towards him, and he panics more.

He's Tiny! He's Smol! He's massively at a disadvantage against attacks! He can't fight off whatever is on a planet like this!

It's Mace (and Depa).

Anakin, however, doesn't realize this. He has gone Feral.

Back to the beginning

Jango Fett has been very busy w/Important Mand'alor Paperwork all day. He finally has time to go and relax a little, and he makes it all the way down to the exit before he realizes:

It is really cold outside. He is not in armor bc he was planning to only do paperwork today (though he still has many weapons). When one plans to stay in the same room for almost the entire day, one does not wear normal garb.

That said, he has no protection from the cold. He forgot his jacket upstairs. He rushes back up to his office.

He distinctly remembers that he left the jacket on the back of his chair, not on the seat.

He also is wondering what that lump is.

He arms himself, grabs some of his "emergency" armor plating, and walks over to the chair.

He lifts his jacket up, expecting a bomb or some paperwork that fell off the desk, or something logical.

He does not expect to find a tiny Togruta child clinging onto the fabric, whining as they're woken up by his yanking of the jacket.

Jango's brain stutters for a moment, then he kicks into action.

First things first, he wraps the jacket around the Togruta. They thankfully stay asleep. Then he turns up the heat, because he knows the office has gotten colder in the twenty minutes or so he's been gone, and Togruta are from warm temperate zones.

He decides to call, in this order, a guard who can help him watch the Togruta (they did break in, after all), a medic to check the Togruta’s health, and the first person he can find in his contacts that might know an adult Togruta.

Next group

Rex and Cody manage to get the teen to stop fussing over them for long enough to ask for her name.

Her, clearly lying, but that’s understandable: My name is Ine.

Cody, who knows exactly who this is now: Oh, kriff. You’re Duchess Satine, aren’t you? Kriff.

Rex: Wait, Satine? As in the General’s Satine?

Satine, now very suspicious and reaching for her stunner: I think you need proper medical attention.

Cody, looking down at their eleven-year-old selves: Yeah, I think so, too.

They agree on one thing, at least.

Obi-Wan is crying. Loudly, uncontrollably, w/too many Emotions to even care that he’s supposed to be an adult rn.

Other Obi-Wan is very uncomfortable, bc he doesn’t know how to handle children too well.

They found this kid unconscious in the middle of a ruined, abandoned town.

Obi-Wan was meant to hold this kid while Qui-Gon did research and Master Dooku tried to convince the Council that it was entirely necessary to bring the kid back to Coruscant. Granted, they can still give the child to the locals at any time before they make it back to their ship, but apparently the Force is Being Loud.

The Force was Being Loud when it told Master Dooku to come along.

The Force was Being Loud when it led them to that town.

Qui-Gon and Dooku have argued fifteen and a half times on this mission, and an additional six times on the flight here. Obi-Wan is trying to mediate but also doesn’t want to overstep. The Force is Being Loud, sure, but the kid is also Force-sensitive so it might be something off that.

He didn’t argue with holding the kid bc he thought that it was better than being caught between the Masters.

Holding a crying child and trying to get two adults to stop arguing bc they can’t decide how to comfort the kid is not better.

Obi-Wan keeps walking past them to the ship with this baby. He does what he’s seen some crechemasters do to the younglings. The kid eventually calms a little, and he belatedly realizes that both Masters are still behind him, not with him.

Anakin is panakin.

He is currently in a state of Feralness. His instincts have kicked into overdrive, full-on Survival Mode.

Depa and Mace do not know this. All they know is that there was suddenly an extremely powerful Force presence that started fading quickly (bc Anakin started shielding).

They burst into sight of Anakin and are suddenly attacked by all four feet and some of Feral Force Child.

It’s all they can do for a good minute or so to avoid losing their fingers, eyes, or untorn clothes.

Mace puts a few things together very quickly.

This planet is uninhabited by any sapient life. Therefore, this child is utterly alone. This child also is clearly strong in the Force, and knows how to hide their presence, for whatever reasons. Mace is a Jedi, and therefore is bound by certain duties.

He decides it is his Duty to get this kid back to Coruscant safely.

Back to the beginning

Ahsoka wakes up to find a familiar face looking down at her. She’s still tired, but not as much. She’s very aware of her size, and does a few quick observations.

She does not fully know who Jango Fett is. She does know that some clones run off bc they hate war and weren’t given a choice an- no. Not going down that path yet.

Ahsoka assumes, semi-incorrectly, that she was shrunk or deaged and somehow found by a rogue clone.

She knows it’s a rogue clone bc they’ve got weird armor.

So she does the logical thing and tries to comfort this clone bc he looks really worried and kinda panicked. She stands up on the spinny chair and tries to balance and he practically lunges to help her and she can’t help but giggle, but it comes out in a bunch of chirps instead.

The clone picks her up and looks really awkward so she pats his face bc that’s the best she can do bc she doesn’t want to disprove the fact she’s two yet.

For all she knows, this rogue clone has no idea she’s actually a Commander in the GAR.

He doesn’t, but for different reasons than she thinks.

Rex and Cody go with Satine to the city. They have introduced themselves and said that they were separated from their aliit. They don't know where said aliit is.

Satine is highly suspicious by this point, bc these two kids recognized her with only part of her name, and they were alone, and they speak Basic with Mando'a thrown in.

Basically, she thinks that they're children of people like Death Watch, but she's too young to know that Death Watch isn't really into children.

Rex and Cody get checked over by a medic, but also start trying to get access to some working comms. They are refused on account of being suspicious children (which makes them a little upset bc they're not children)(Well, they are, but not those types of children)

They have not yet figured out that they are in the past, bc Cody and Rex only know that General Kenobi talks about Duchess Satine, and they know about Padme Amidala from General Skywalker, so clearly this Duchess is really young and the General simply viewed her as someone he wants to protect.

They are very very very wrong.

Obi-Wan manages to calm himself somewhat now that it's just him and... him.

He is three, and he knows roughly what's happening, so he knows he should probably act like a 3yo.

Unfortunately, he has very little understanding of how child ages work. 3 is smart enough to go up the stairs and communicate with adults, but def. not old enough to speak sentences that are 15 words long with at least 2 5-syllable words.

Fortunately, his older (younger?) self doesn't know children either.

So when this 3yo starts telling him that he needs to leave the two Masters on the planet and head to Tatooine really fast, Obi-Wan is more concerned about the idea than the strangeness of "this is a 3yo suggesting this".

Obi-Wan is really good at convincing people. Including himself. He manages to get Padawan Kenobi to leave supplies where the ship is supposed to be and head towards Tatooine.

He says that the Masters will be fine, they know how to survive, and they need to be alone together in order to work through all the tension. Plus, it gives them plenty of time to talk to the Council.

Toddler Kenobi also tells himself that he'll take the blow and say he used a mind-trick.

Padawan Kenobi doesn't believe him yet, but Toddler Kenobi smiles like a very smug adult and says "you'll get there eventually". What he truly means is up in the air.

Anakin, since waking up, knows much less than everyone else. Which is saying something.

He knows he's Smol. He knows he's Alone. He knows Someone has come and they are Strangers.

One thing about Anakin's instincts is that they are very much Survival Based. He was Feral when he joined the Jedi, only he had to hold those instincts back for most of his life bc of being a slave.

A slave cannot bite someone who approaches and Vibes Wrong.

By the time he felt okay with being Feral Out Loud, he also felt safe enough that he didn't need to activate his Survival Mode.

What I'm trying to say is that Anakin does not realize how strong his Feral Instincts are. He has absolutely no control over them rn.

When Mace decides to Help this child, this child is trying to Maul them.

Mace makes a small ruckus to draw Anakin's attention to him so Depa can move back. Depa pulls out her saber now that she won't hit the kid. The kid notices Purple and Bright and Lightsaber.

Lorge Jedi Mind says this is Good. Safe. Jedi.

Smol Feral Brain says this is Dangerous. Mean.

Anakin freezes on sight and just starts tracking Depa's saber. She does one of those things where a snake or something is focused and the person waves the fire or the food slowly to make sure the wolf is watching it and usually they toss the thing away so the snake follows it.

Mace instead takes this opportunity to wrap Anakin in his cloak. And Depa's cloak. And the spare ones in their bags.

Feral Child is not happy with this. Feral Child is also unable to scratch or Maul or do things other than bite and snarl.

Depa carries Feral Child while Mace comms the Temple and they walk back to their ship.

The Temple is having a field day.

First, one of their Shadows reports that a well-known bounty hunter got an emergency message from a pal of theirs that said Jango Fett needs help learning Togruta childcare.

Then they get a call from Dooku, which is not the mission report they wanted.

Yoda: Mission report, you have?

Dooku: Of a sort. We successfully spoke with the locals, then went to investigate a rather large disturbance.

Mundi: A disturbance?

Dooku: We found the source to be a Force-sensitive child.

Mundi: So you are here to ask for more time on the planet?

Dooku:...

Yoda: Bring the child back, you wish to?

Dooku, unapologetic: He is of an acceptable age to be admitted into the Temple, and no other beings were around at the time to entertain the idea of there being guardians.

The Council is sighing and muttering bc this is a Disaster Lineage (and they haven't even met the other two yet). Their call is interrupted by the sound of crying and Dooku saying the child's woken up.

Then there's another Shadow who sends a message saying a set of twins that seem like Death Watch were found by the heir of Clan Kryze.

Finally, to top everything off, they get a call from Mace Windu and Depa Billaba. Two very dignified, not-at-all chaotic Jedi from a perfectly respectable lineage.

Yeah, most of the Council and the Order itself forgets that Yoda had a hand in raising Windu. Yoda "Feral Grandpa" who throws children at every problem. Grandson isn't doing too well? Throw a child his way. Other grandchild is struggling to cope with grief? Throw another child their way. Oh, there's a war going on and newest grandchild is angry a lot? Here's a child!

The entire lineage has a soft spot for children.

Anyways...

Mace: Our mission was a success. We found the artifact and both specimens.

Koth: How long until your return?

Mace:...

Yoda: Found a child, you did?

Gallia: Master Yoda, that's a rather illogical guess. Once is unusual, twice is-

Mace: Oh, did Qui-Gon find a child as well?

Yoda, smugly: Bringing the child back, are you?

Depa, from the background, after a rather loud snarl is heard: We do not bite things, young one.

*more snarling*

Mace: We have no reason to believe he was not alone.

Tiin: *deep sighing*

Mundi: *mild confusion noises*

Koon, eagerly: Please send photos of this youngling. For the archives, of course.

Mace, nodding sagely: Of course.

*extremely loud yowl* *sounds of Mace turning*

Mace: DEPA!

Depa: He nearly bit off my finger!

Mace: That doesn’t mean you pinch him!

Depa: What else am I supposed to do?!

*sudden exclamation filled solely of Mando’a, Huttese and Twi’leki curses*

Mace: So, I don’t know if he speaks Basic, but Master Che should be able to talk him through a check-up.

Yeah, several Council members are experiencing headaches now. Normally, they would have some empathy for Mace and his own stress-induced migraines. They currently do not.

Right after that call, Dooku calls back to say that Obi-Wan has left without them.

Mundi: He left the child with you, right?

Dooku:

Mundi: He left the child with you, right?

Obi-Wan did not leave himself with the Masters. Obi-Wan has listened to Mini-Obi and is off on some wild space adventure to a criminal-run planet.

The toddler won’t stop staring at him. He asks for a name. The kid says to call him Ben.

OW: Is that your name?

“Ben”: It is a name I am called :)

OW: That isn’t what I meant.

“Ben”: I know :)

Ben also keeps staring at OW’s lightsaber. OW decides to make sure the kid doesn’t start playing with it when he isn’t looking.

MEANWHILE

Ahsoka has figured out that she was really very oh-so wrong. She’s on Mandalore. As in, the Mandalore that is under Jango Fett. Bc she’s with Jango Fett. He’s holding her hand bc she was nervous about the strange looking medic (who was just wearing armor, but not clone armor and civies don’t wear armor.)

Ahsoka knows very little about Jango Fett. Clone Buir, Mandalorian leader, tried to kill Master Kenobi. Also dead.

He asks how she got in. She shrugs. She is too small to fight back so she can’t let him know anything. Whatever everything is right now. But also, he doesn’t seem mean or evil or anything.

Oh yeah. Skyguy said that Mandos love children. That's why the clones were so protective of her, even with Skyguy on her side of the argument.

She decides to use this to her advantage. She can probably get herself a comm, and enough time to call the Temple. If she can convince them she at least knows a Jedi, then they can come get her and she'll work from there.

ELSEWHERE

Rex and Cody are getting really upset. This Duchess is really nice, but she's acting really weird and keeps insisting she's not actually called Duchess. No one will give them a comm, they keep getting weird looks for speaking Mando'a even though they're on Mandalore, and Satine's father keeps mentioning a Fett. Maybe Boba's set a bad example again.

Rex starts to fall asleep, to his chagrin. He's too bored, sitting and getting some abnormally extensive check-up. Cody is fine, but he's used to the calm that is General Kenobi. Rex usually has a Togruta teen in the vents and a Human that is never where he's supposed to be.

Rex does, in fact, fall asleep. His "twin" starts glaring when a doctor goes to wake him up. Cody makes it clear that his brother is like Cat: once asleep, you do not wake.

Satine is giggling, but trying not to let the others hear. Cody does. Cody looks at her. They have a stare-off.

Cody goes back to glaring at the doctors. He will not admit to any emotions besides Protect™.

BACK TO

Obi-Wan and Ben have made it to Tatooine.

#star wars #star wars fic #another star wars au #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #kote fett #cody fett #rex fett #cody #rex #ahsoka tano #disaster lineage #mace windu #depa billaba #jango fett #duchess satine #time travel #deaging

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cyncerity · 4 years ago

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Sizeshifter!Tommy au where he noms SBI and Beeduo all at once? He grows just big enough to where they all fit nice and snug in there and he can feel all them. Big man just wants to hold his family close and keep them safe!

I wrote this as quickly as I could because this prompt gave me so much brain rot. It also gave me an excuse to write one of my favorite vore tropes: overstuffed preds 💖

tw: vore

“Yes!!” Tommy yelled after his 5th consecutive win against the rest of his friends and family in Mario Kart. He heard the rest of them groan as he laughed harder at their defeat. “Alright, Tubbo, you came in last, you know what that means…” Tommy snickered as he leaned closer to Tubbo. The brunette simply laughed as he shoved Tommy’s face back. “Yeah, yeah, I owe you, but I have a feeling you’re gonna wanna cash that favor in now, aren’t you?” Tommy grinned mischievously in response. “Oh, you know me so well.”

Tommy and Tubbo scrambled off the couch and went to the living room as the other 4 continued to play. In a matter of no time Tommy was a giant, approximately 45 ft in height. Not huge, but big enough so that Tubbo had room in his stomach. And as soon as he reached that height, Tubbo shoved his arm in his mouth with a sly, silly grin. Tommy’s response to this was to close his mouth around Tubbo’s torso and slurp the rest of him in like a noodle, making the now much smaller boy burst into giggles. He licked him for a few minutes before getting impatient and swallowing him down, the now familiar feeling of the warm, squirming lump traveling down his throat bringing the shifter bliss. Tommy laid back, closed his eyes, and put a hand on his stomach as he felt Tubbo enter his belly, fully content to lay their the rest of the day.

“Tommy, get back in here, we’re starting another game!!” Tommy heard Wilbur shout. He peeked an eye open. Surely they knew he was giant right now, right? They had to have known what he and Tubbo had gone into the other room to do, they’d have to be stupid not to know. Tommy sighed and made his way back to the dining room where Mario Kart was set up, laying on his stomach (which Tubbo didn’t seem to mind, surprisingly), only bothering to fit his top half in the room. “Oh, there you are! Can you still use one of these?” Ranboo held a controller to Tommy, who’s face remained deadpan as he lifted his hand to compare it to the controller, which was barely the size of his finger nail. “Right, I guess that makes sense…” Ranboo continued a bit awkwardly. “You wanna just watch this round then, Toms?” Phil asked. Tommy shrugged and nodded as Techno started the game.

A few minutes later, Wilbur came out on top, with Ranboo being the loser. Tommy chuckled as Wilbur continued to gloat his victory to patronize Ranboo, when the mocking finally died down and the attention was surprisingly turned to him.

“Alright, Ranboo, new rule for the night: you lose, youre sleeping in the giant.” Wilbur said nonchalantly. Tommy’s face turned to one of utter confusion before he laughed a bit as an argument broke out between Wilbur and Ranboo. Ok, this could be something he could get behind. He was always up for the chance to nom his friends.

Soon Ranboo stared at Tommy with tired eyes as he pushed his lips open. Tommy quickly closed his mouth around the teen and threw his head back as hard as he could and swallowed down Ranboo in one gulp, taking Ranboo by surprise and making Wilbur lose it with laughter. Tommy rearranged himself as he felt Ranboo enter his stomach and Tubbo move over to make more room so that he was now lying on his back, watching the tv upside down. He looked down at his gut.

He had noted a while ago that 50ft was the minimum height he could be to swallow both Ranboo and Tubbo, that being the minimum height where they weren’t crowded and Tommy still felt full while not showing any signs of having eat someone from the outside. At his current 45ft, though, his friends started to make a bump on his gut. Nothing too noticeable unless someone was looking for it, but there nonetheless.

A few minutes later, Techno lost. “Alright, rules of the night, Techno,” Wilbur said as he shoved his twin brother towards Tommy, “down the hatch you go.” Techno just rolled his eyes, not excited or anything but seemingly not opposed to the idea. Tommy was beginning to think this wasn’t such a great idea anymore. Yeah, having two people fill his stomach was nice, but he was fairly certain that two was his max. It was already a little cramped as it was. God, if he even managed to fit Techno in their, would it give him a stomach ache? Tommy negotiated the idea of growing bigger so there’d be more room in his belly, but he had never attempted to shift with people in him, so he dropped the idea.

Nevertheless, a few moments later Tommy found himself watching the bulge of his stomach grow slightly, maybe a half inch to him, bigger as Techno entered his gut. The organ growled around its new occupant, probably realizing (just as Tommy had) that there was already to much stuff in his belly. Tommy drowsily rubbed his stomach and felt internal rubs back as he heard Phil shout from the couch, their last race seemingly over. Wilbur stood up and began shouting for a rematch. Tommy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Rematch or not, one of them was going to end up in him, and he didn’t know if he could physically take that. He wasn’t sure where the point of unhealthy weight in someone’s stomach was, but he was sure he was close to reaching it. He’d never felt so full before, and he didn’t know if that was a bad thing or not. It’s didn’t hurt like he thought it would, and so much motion under his skin made a shiver run up his spine and melt his muscles in the best way possible. Of course, that could all change once a fourth person entered his stomach. He’d only ever eaten three at most, and at that point in time he was about 150-200 ft tall, so this get entirely different.

Phil proudly and snuggly pushed Wilbur towards Tommy, who readied himself as he picked up Wilbur and carefully placed him in his jaws. Tommy took slow, small swallows just in case any harsh or fast movements would give him a stomach ache. Phil seemed to notice his sons’s dilemma, though, and moved towards Tommy to rub his stomach, trying to push his occupants aside to make room for Wilbur, and making Tommy let out a sigh and start purring, to blissful to even feel embarrassed.

“Wil’s idea cause you a bellyache, mate?” Phil asked, continuing to rub Tommy’s gut as it swelled even more with Wilbur’s entry, giving another, louder low growl at the added weight. Tommy groaned slightly and nodded. Phil gave him a sympathetic smile and he placed his hands on the organ to rub it, and felt a second pair of hands rubbing from the inside. Tommy seemed to be on the verge if sleep, the over-stuffing making him drowsy.

“Does it hurt, Toms?” Tommy shook his head. “Then, do you mind if I go in?” Phil said as he laid a hand on Tommy’s gut. Tommy nodded as he picked Phil up, begrudgingly standing as best he could and moving to the living room where he could throw the couch cushions on the floor and make a makeshift bed, feeling the most likely equally drowsy people in his belly slide down the walls of the stomach as their surroundings shifted. Tommy soon felt them start to try and get into a comfortable position after having been moved, and out of curiosity looked down at his stomach. He was surprised to see that not only had Wilbur added probably another quarter inch to his distended gut, but he could make out their movements from inside him. To him, it only looked like his stomach had swollen about two inches bigger, but he could just barely make out when someone pushed at him or leaned their full body weight against his organ. It might have been somewhat disturbing to anyone other than Tommy, but at the moment, the young shifter was to entranced by the fact that now he could actually feel and see what was going on in his belly to care.

Once they reached the living room, Phil got gently popped into Tommy’s mouth as he began to take the couches apart before he was swallowed down, reaching the stomach within seconds, everyone else who had been eaten already fast alsesp. Phil chuckled as he felt his world shift as Tommy laid back down, rubbing what he assumed to be the front of the stomach.

“Hey, Toms?” “Yeah?” “How about next time, best two out of three?” Tommy only chuckled, poking where he felt Phil rubbing his stomach. “Oh, it’s so on.”

#I broke my write asks in the inbox in sent order for this #the prompt was just to good #also thank you to the people on discord for giving me ideas #I literally wrote this in an hour and a half at 1 am and then re-read and edited it at school #also #as I was writing this I realized that there’s no longer story for sizeshifter Tommy getting nommed instead of doing the nomming #so I’ll probably do that eventually if I get good ideas or if someone sends me one #cyncerity #sizeshifter!tommy au #cynwrites #tw vore #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt

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eldritchqueerture · 4 years ago

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Hello! This is a project for @summer-in-the-archives-event that I worked on with @horizonindigo! We came up with the idea together and based our individual works around the poem I wrote, included in the fic. You can find their absolutely amazing art here!!

I freaking loved working on this one and I got more and more excited as we progressed. I also surprised myself with the poem itself a bit, definitely didn’t expect it to end up quite as cool, if I may say so myself. It was incredibly fun to write.

Big shoutout to @sunflowers-and-frogs for beta reading, I love you bestie <3

I would like to thank all the mods that made this event possible! It’s my first time taking part in anything like this and it was really, really fun, so THANK YOU <3 Love you guys :3 Anyways, enough of my rambling kdfjgkjsdfg

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Relationship: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical The Lonely Content (The Magnus Archives), Kissing, Excessive Tea-Making, Set in Episodes 159-160 | Scottish Safehouse Period (The Magnus Archives), Poetry, Love Confessions Warnings: self-esteem issues, typical Lonely content, discussions of free-will and determinism, graphic kiss

Summary: As Martin fights the remnants of the Lonely's influence on their ride to Daisy's safehouse in Scotland, he focuses on his feelings for Jon to keep him tethered to reality. He watches Jon be himself in the safety of the cottage, share these small intimacies of domesticity and the words come to him as a poem weaves itself into the pages of his notebook...

He feels the taste of salt in his mouth, as he looks out of the car window at the rapidly falling away landscape, covered in the darkness of the night. He feels Jon’s presence next to him, focused on driving but glancing every so often at him with concern. Martin feels like he should say something, somehow fill the silence that has befallen them, but no words ever find their way to his mouth. He stays quiet, watching the trees pass them by, trying to ignore the anxious churning in his stomach. He’s always been pretty good at filling awkward silences with chatter; at least before the Lonely. Now… he can’t help but feel bothered by Jon’s presence, even though he did all of this for him, even though this is what he’s wanted all this time; it’s like a splinter, prickling at his mind, almost causing him physical discomfort. He swallows and feels the salty taste on his tongue; he discards the thoughts and tries his best to breathe through the discomfort, instead focusing on the sensation of Jon’s warm hand on his.

Martin used to be the warm one; he’d always been generating heat and his mind goes back to the early days in the Archives when the basement was cold in the winter and both Tim and Sasha used to gravitate towards him with their respective cups of tea during breaks. Now his whole body is cold, the chill of the ocean breeze and fog having settled in his bones so deep he thinks he’ll never feel warm again. The thought isn’t sparking any emotions in him though. It’s just a thing that he’s learned to accept, just as the fact that he’ll always be alo—

“Do you want me to put on some music?” Jon asks with another one of his glances. Every time, he raises his eyebrows a bit, and tilts his head to the side; Martin expects the concern in his eyes, but he sees something else there as well. He’s been afraid to put a label to the expression for the fear he’s reading him wrong, but the bolder part of his mind tells him it’s fondness.

Jon’s hand is warm, and his thumb grazes the skin of his palm just a little, as if not sure he’s allowed to. Martin looks down at their hands and feels warmth spark in his stomach; he smiles.

“I’m sorry I’m—I’m not really good at the whole, uh… small talk thing,” Jon adds with a flush, turning his head back to the road. “I should probably be talking about something, though, to, uh… to keep you here. I suppose.” He visibly cringes at his words.

“It’s—It’s fine, Jon,” Martin chuckles, and Jon relaxes, fixing him with a quick smile of his own. “I’m just… you know.” He looks down at their hands again and has a brief feeling they belong to someone else. Not him. Never him. “I’m not quite… out of that. Yet.”

Another look of concern. Martin feels heat prickling at his cheeks and he’s a little bit glad, because at least it’s a feeling. He interlaces their fingers and looks out the front window.

They spend the ride in relative silence. Jon tries a couple more times to start small talk and fails; they stop at a gas station at one point and Martin takes out his notebook when Jon disappears inside the station to pay for gas. He flicks through it and his eyes stop at an unfinished draft; he started writing it shortly before Peter took him down to the Panopticon, but he’d only managed to get a few first lines down. Despite still feeling the cold in his bones and his mind being clouded by the remains of the fog, words come to him, and he starts scribbling. He continues to do so even when Jon comes back with tea and an assortment of snacks, blushing just a little bit when Jon shoots a curious look at the notebook. He doesn’t ask and Martin is thankful for it. He’s not the sort to show his drafts to anyone, especially to the subject he’s writing about.

It’s 1am when they arrive at the cottage; they’re both exhausted and they quickly take their bags inside and lock the door. The cottage is small and practical, just Daisy’s style; it’s also quite dusty from months of abandonment. Martin yawns as he opens one of the bags to get the essentials. They should leave unpacking and cleaning for the next day.

He hears Jon’s footsteps on the wooden floor coming back from the initial run of the house and he turns to tell him that, but the somewhat sheepish look on his face stops him in his tracks. Has he ever seen Jon look sheepish before?

“So, uh, obviously this was Daisy’s safehouse when she was, well… Avoiding people,” he says, not meeting Martin’s eyes.

“I hope ‘avoiding people’ doesn’t mean killing them in this context,” Martin snorts, not sure if he’s entirely joking. The humour is lost on Jon, however, as he looks at him confused for a moment before he processes Martin’s words.

“Oh, no, no, I-I don’t believe she, uh… She just slept here.” Jon shifts awkwardly. “And that means there’s uh, there’s only one bed.”

Martin’s eyes widen and his lips form a little “Oh”.

“Of course, if you’re not comfortable with sharing, I can just take the couch, you need some proper rest and I’m used to running on low sleep” —Jon averts his gaze as he speaks. He grabs his bag and walks over to the couch, and Martin wants to stop him talking and just say that they should share the bed, but his voice seems to have left him at this crucial moment. He just stares as Jon places the bag on the couch and looks back at him, aware of the silence. “Martin?”

Martin swallows, a familiar cold freezing his toes. He feels the damp sand underneath his bare feet and a chill runs down his spine. He blinks and tightens his grip on the bag he’s been holding. This is real, he is real, Jon is real.

“You need good rest too,” he finally manages to say, and he’s surprised by how clear and normal his voice sounds; it makes Jon relax a bit. “We should share the bed, if-if you are comfortable with that.”

A small smile appears on Jon’s lips and a warm feeling fills Martin’s stomach again; he knows the smile is for him.

“Okay,” he says softly and picks the bag up.

They manage to keep the awkwardness of it to the minimum; they’re both very tired and at one point it just doesn’t matter anymore. Jon hands Martin a separate blanket and he pushes the disappointment down into a void inside him where he keeps feelings to come back to when he’s alone. It would be foolish of him to hope for cuddling since they haven’t talked about anything yet.

He expects to fall asleep as soon as his head touches the pillow, but he finds himself awake in the darkness after goodnights are said (Jon’s voice sounds so soft and tender Martin has forgotten all about his earlier disappointment). He’s laying on his back, eyes closed, and he feels Jon’s presence on his right. His breathing is steady, not yet slow enough to indicate sleep, but calm and relaxed. Martin peeks out through half-lidded eyes �� he hasn’t gotten used to the darkness as much yet, but he can see Jon laying on his side, facing him, his eyes closed and his hair loosely framing his face. One of his hands rests close to his head on the pillow. Martin blinks, fully opening his eyes now and smiling softly. As his vision clears, Martin notices Jon frowning ever so slightly, and he wonders if the faint lines between his eyebrows smoothen when he’s asleep.

“Is watching people sleep a usual activity for you?” Jon whispers with amusement as he opens his eyes and Martin gasps with surprise and looks away, feeling heat prickle at his cheeks.

“Wha—uh, no! No, of course no—Sorry, I—” He rambles, and he thinks he might just die from embarrassment when he hears Jon laugh quietly.

“It’s fine, Martin.” He shakes his head with a sigh. “Really. I-- Sorry, I thought a joke would, um… lighten the mood somewhat.”

Martin risks a look at him and wonders if the red on his cheeks is visible through the darkness. Jon looks at him with that expression again, something Martin would very much want to classify as fondness if it didn’t feel so impossible. But now that he thinks about it… Would it really be thatfar-fetched? Jon had gone into the Lonely just to get him out. Would he have done that for anyone else? Martin rolls his eyes at himself in his mind, of course he would. He did go into the Buried, and it was for Daisy, a person who has threatened him multiple times, kidnapped and almost killed him. If Jon was ready to lay down his life for her, out of all of them, it shouldn’t be surprising he would do the same for his assistant; it says nothing about his feelings on the matter.

Martin’s memories of the Lonely are hazy. He remembers the cold, the dampness, and the loneliness. He remembers his thoughts, the lonely ones, and how they felt both alien and familiar at the same time. He remembers the comfort, the feeling of fitting in, but also the pain and the fear, just before they were numbed by the cold and the fog that made him forget. And then suddenly, Jon was in front of him, looking at him with desperation on his face, tears in his eyes glowing with a green light. Was it Jon calling for him, or just the Beholding?

“What are you thinking about?” comes Jon’s voice and Martin realizes he’s been staring into the air for a while. He blinks and looks back at Jon.

“Uh…” He searches for words before he gives up on trying to come up with an excuse. His voice is quiet when he speaks. “Why did you do it?”

Jon blinks at him a couple times and rises to lean on his elbow, to better look at Martin.

“What do you mean?”

“The Lonely,” Martin says, not meeting his eyes. Jon is wearing a blue t-shirt with a logo of a band Martin doesn’t recognize; the shirt is loose and it uncovers one of Jon's shoulders which would probably be distracting if Martin’s mind wasn't chilled by the remnants of the fog. “Why did you come for me?”

Even without looking at him, Martin sees Jon’s forehead ripple. A while passes as Jon searches his face and the thought that he shouldn’t have asked starts creeping up to Martin’s head. Shouldn’t have brought any attention to the subject, he should just be glad, he should—

“I care about you, Martin,” Jon says in a very gentle and quiet voice, like he’s afraid anything louder would take away the meaning of his words. Martin looks up at Jon and the hint of that intense blush from before makes it back to his face. “You’re… You matter to me. You will always matter to me.”

Martin can’t stop a small smile appearing on his face and Jon mirrors it.

“Thank you,” Martin whispers, feeling a warmth settle in his chest, finally driving the cold away.

“Anytime.” Jon lays his head back down and settles back with the right hand near his face. “Sleep well, Martin.”

Martin closes his eyes contentedly and he curls up on his right side, facing Jon, as if trying to keep this warm feeling from escaping his chest too soon.

“You too, Jon.”

---

Martin wakes up alone in an unfamiliar bed, the smell of foreign covers filling his nostrils and for a second he panics. He opens his eyes and the memories come back to him; their late arrival at the safehouse and laying down to sleep next to Jon.

He sits up, looking at the space Jon had occupied. It’s vacant now, just the curled up covers he left behind, but it manages to bring a blush to Martin’s cheeks, nonetheless. It feels so… intimate to know that they slept next to each other. It makes him feel warm and cosy.

Martin gets up and goes to the bathroom before he finds Jon in the kitchen. He’s humming quietly as he finishes cleaning the table and he looks up when Martin enters.

“Good morning, Martin.” He smiles and Martin’s afraid he’s going to melt. He takes a quick look around and notices that their sparse kitchen supplies are mostly unpacked, and the kettle is already on the stove.

“How long have you been awake?” He asks; some of the shock must have made it to his voice because Jon looks amused.

“Two hours or so. I’ve always been a morning person.” He shrugs and finishes cleaning the table. “Tea?”

A smile lights up Martin’s face and he gets swept up by the familiarity of the activity, while Jon busies himself with fixing up some breakfast. As both of them work in the kitchen, Martin notices the casual brushes of their skin and touches of the shoulders. He doesn’t know if he’s doing it consciously or if it just happens naturally, but he knows that Jon’s open demeanour is drawing him closer than before. He wonders if he’s been like this ever since he woke up from the coma, and there was just no one to appreciate it.

The morning is relaxed, the casual conversation flowing a lot smoother than the day before, and after breakfast they set out to clean the whole cottage and go down to the village to buy some actual supplies. The village is small, but the local shop provides all the essentials they need; for a moment Martin forgets about everything outside of that village and shopping for groceries with Jon, as if this is their life now, in the Scottish Highlands, living together in a cottage. They talk about cooking dinner, and the cows they passed on the way, and Martin thinks he could get used to that.

The bubble bursts when they finish up and Jon decides to call Basira. She picks up after a while and updates them on the absence of both Jonah Magnus and Daisy. Basira says she’ll send some statements up to them when the Institute stops being an active crime scene, and a shadow passes over Jon’s face. Wrapped up in a conversation about their taste in dinner dishes, it was almost too easy for Martin to forget food isn’t the only sustenance Jon needs. He finds it easier to forget things ever since the Lonely. They walk back to their cottage in silence, Martin grabbing Jon’s hand as soon as he lets go of the phone.

When they get back, Jon declares he’s going to take care of unpacking and cooking, and even though Martin knows Jon to be stupidly stubborn, he’s surprised by the strictness with which Jon insists he sit back and relax. Martin doesn’t really complain; he’s spent his entire life caring for others and, to be honest, it does feel rather good to be on the receiving end for once. He watches Jon from the couch for a while, before he takes out his notebook and looks over the poem he wrote in the car.

Wisps of mist conceal my eyes

A lone indulgence to lose one's face

And soothing a part inside that cries

With chilling sadness and numbing grace

The steadfast rhythm of waves ashore

As ocean breeze leaves a taste of salt

The words forgotten, erase what I swore

Until I hear your voice once more

I wondered many times what it might be

That we finally took to calling "us"

What would be left if we broke free

Of dread and horror's eternal grasp

The Eye looms aloft, ever-present dread

Watching all, eternal lids apart

You made your choice unaware you were led

By strings of web, against your heart

Jon starts humming under his nose in the kitchen as he cuts something on the board; the water in the kettle boils slowly and fills the air with a quiet whistle. Martin smiles while shooting a subtle glance at Jon; he seems to notice his gaze and falls quiet, but a smile lights up his face when he sees the fondness on Martin’s face. For all this talk about Jon “losing himself” in the role of the Archivist, this seems as human as you can get. Martin never favoured the approach the other archival staff took to the knowledge of the significance of Jon’s position, and he often wondered how they could look at him and see a monster. Of course he made bad decisions, but so did everyone. They’ve seen or read about so many avatars giving into the powers that fed them and yes, maybe Martin is biased, but Jon was nothing like them. They’ve all been caught in this huge web of statements that turned real; the more they struggled to break free the more tangled up they became, and it wasn’t Jon’s fault that he ended up in the centre of it. He knows Jon tried to make right choices every step of the way. Can you really blame a human being for failing to completely resist something that’s beyond mortality and human reality? One way or another they ended up here, together, and yes, maybe the Eye and the Lonely are still looming as very tangible threats, and Jonah Magnus is nowhere near being stopped, but at least they’re together now. Martin remembers thinking the Unknowing was the endgame, the last chapter of this horror for them, and he remembers the hopelessness of their story getting a bad ending that essentially pushed him into the Lonely; now he feels a different kind of an end approaching – he dares to be hopeful. Maybe everything works out in the end? Maybe, if they were safe and happy, it wouldn’t actually be the end of the world.

Martin looks down at his notebook and starts writing, sticking the tip of his tongue out in concentration.

What is a monster? Where is the line

That would separate us from the world

All I know is our paths align

And we together can battle the cold

You cut through the curtains of mist and See

The green glow fades when our eyes meet

My lips form a soft and quiet plea

To be loved has never felt so sweet

To be loved is a new feeling for me

I only know how to love from one side

But with you I hope we can once be free

Maybe ignore the whims of the tide

Although I know we're not nearly through

I taste and savour your voice, your breath

If only for a moment, we can start anew

And I will follow you even to death

As he stares at the last word of the finished poem, his hand with the pen hovering over it, he registers that his eyes have watered a bit. He blinks the tears away quickly as Jon sits down on the couch next to him, looking at him with a gentle worry. Martin looks up at the two mugs of tea he’d placed on the table.

“Did you make tea?” He asks with mock bewilderment, and Jon scoffs at him.

“I know how to make tea, Martin.” He nudges him with amusement, that gentle worry not quite gone from his eyes. “What are you writing about?”

Martin falls quiet, pressing the notebook to his chest in a knee-jerk reaction.

“Thought you didn’t like poetry,” he huffs out a laugh that’s only a little bit self-conscious. Jon shrugs, reaching out for his mug and taking a sip.

“I don’t understand it. And yes, I have been known to dislike it at times, but… Maybe I could be swayed to give it another shot.” Jon rolls his eyes fondly and looks at Martin out of the corner of his eye, a look that says ‘for you’. Martin grins, heat pricking at his cheeks once again.

“You see, i-it’s all about emotion.” He places the notebook gently on his lap face down and reaches for his own mug. “You w-want to put all of your emotions into words in a-an artistic way, that has a rhythm and, uh, and feels alive. And you want your, uh, your readers to feel that, that emotion through your words.”

Jon listens attentively and his eyes aren’t leaving Martin’s face; at one point Martin gets distracted by it and forgets where his explanation was going. Jon’s gaze has always been intense, in different ways throughout the time they’ve known each other. At first it was judgemental, the gaze of his boss, full of unmet expectations; then it was piercing, watchful and suspicious; as time passed, it seemed to gain more and more weight of the Beholding, something Tim always complained about. After Martin had joined Peter Lukas, the rare glances he got from Jon were full of yearning that Martin didn’t understand at the time; didn’t want to understand. Now, it’s that gentle fondness, interweaved with something intangibly sad and Martin feels an urge to hug him, to bring him close to his chest and never let go; to bury his face in Jon’s hair and protect him.

They move to place their mugs at the table at the same time and snort, amusement quickly turning into a fit of laughter. Jon throws his head back a little with it and Martin wonders if he has ever seen him laugh so openly before. He didn’t think it was possible for him to fall in love with the man even more, but once again, his heart proves him wrong. He stares at him with a lovestruck expression and thinks they should really talk about it. Martin doesn’t know where to start though and Jon seems to be thinking in a similar direction because his expression shifts into gentle seriousness.

“Martin, I…” He starts and bites his lip. “I need to apologize.”

Martin straightens a little; it’s not exactly what he expects.

“I—The way I used to treat you…” Pain and guilt flash through Jon’s face as he looks away for a moment to gather his thoughts. “It was not okay. None of it was okay. And I’m—I’m really sorry for that. It doesn’t—I know it doesn’t change anything that happened, but I” —he sighs. “I really am sorry. I hope I can, somehow, uh… somehow make it up to you.”

Martin reaches for Jon’s hand, and he looks down in surprise; Martin sees his eyes start glistening.

“I’m sorry for everything that happened to you.” He continues in a whisper and his eyes are locked on their touching hands. “I’m so sorry about the Lonely. I’m sorry that you’re trapped in all of this with me, and I would understand if you decided to leave—”

“Jon.” Martin squeezes his hand and Jon’s eyes shoot up to look at him.

“I’m sorry, that’s not an apology,” he sighs again. “I just… I’m sorry, Martin. About everything.” His other hand grips Martin’s. “I’m glad you are still here. I’m—I’m so glad, you d-don’t even know,” he laughs.

“I think I do.” Martin smiles gently. “Thank you for saying that. I’ve—I've forgiven you for a lot of it a long time ago. A-And the rest just isn’t your fault.”

Jon frowns.

“The Lonely was always there,” Martin shrugs. “Peter Lukas was just… a catalyst, I think. But now I have you.” His finger grazes the outside of Jon’s palm and his heart flutters in his chest when he sees that small smile appear on Jon’s face. “And you can’t be blamed for Elia—Jonah’s games. We’re all just… a bunch of people who didn’t know what was going on until it was too late.”

Jon’s eyes fall as he nods slightly.

“He’s still up to something,” he says quietly.

“Figures,” Martin laughs bitterly. “But we’re here now. And frankly, I don’t really want to think about him when we’re finally…” The word ‘together’ gets stuck in his throat, as if it would breach this fine line of ambiguity they’ve drawn between themselves. Jon seems to fill it in and his eyes land back on Martin.

He’s never wanted to kiss him more than he does right now. Jon's eyes are wide and glistening with something that looks suspiciously like hope, and his fingers gently graze the outside of Martin's palm. Warmth spreads in his chest and his eyes flutter a little, not breaking the eye contact. He wants to pull Jon close to his chest, to run his fingers through his hair and feel his breath on his own skin. To really feel like he's there, next to him, with him.

Before he can follow through with any of that, something sizzles in the kitchen, loud in the silence, startling them both.

“Food!” Jon chuckles slightly before he jumps to his feet and rushes to the kitchen, while Martin snorts and follows him. Jon stirs the pan with curry and sighs with relief when he sees it's not burned. He turns down the heat anyway and checks on the rice.

“Jon, this smells amazing,” Martin says, peeking into the pan with cheese and spinach. “I didn't know you could cook.”

“Well, contrary to the popular belief I was a functional human being. For a while,” Jon snorts and leans against the counter to look back at Martin. “It's Palak Paneer, my grandma taught me when I was a child.”

“It looks fantastic,” Martin grins, and Jon rolls his eyes in mock exasperation.

Even though the moment's lost, the remains of the feeling can be felt between them as they prepare the plates and take the food to the table. They easily fall back into usual chatter and, as soon as they’re finished, Martin jumps to wash the dishes. Jon relents after extensive affirmations from Martin that he's alright and he can definitely take care of a couple dishes in the sink, and he drops onto the couch with a content sigh instead.

Martin finishes up with the dishes and dries his hands on a towel.

“Do you want some tea?” He asks and hangs the towel back on the rack. When there's no response, he turns to the couch. “Jon?”

Something sinks in his stomach when he sees that the object that consumes Jon’s attention is the poem he’s finished; he scratches his neck, as his cheeks take on a pink tinge. “Oh…”

He walks up to the couch, unsure, trying to gauge Jon's reaction. His face seems tense, he squeezes the notebook in his hand so hard his knuckles go white, and his eyes are focused at one point on the page.

“Um... Jon?” Martin asks weakly, his heart drumming in his chest so loud he's sure both of them can hear it.

Jon jumps to his feet, startled, and looks up at him with eyes wide, like a deer in the headlights. Martin instinctively raises his hands in a placating gesture, as Jon registers his presence, looks down on the notebook in his hands, and quickly puts it on the table as if it stung him.

“Martin, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to look, it was just there and—”

“Hey, Jon, it’s alright!” It’s maybe a little not alright, since the poem is nothing short of a love confession and a wish Martin had no right to assume would ever be true, so Jon reading it is less than ideal. Martin rushes to gently place a hand on Jon’s shoulder but when he recoils from the touch, Martin withdraws his hand, cursing everything about himself.

“No, I, uh…” Jon runs his hand through his hair, eyes darting between Martin, his hand, and the notebook frantically. “I shouldn’t have— uh, it’s—it’s your private business, what you write about, so—”

Martin is sure he’s tomato red on the face by this point and hopes against hope that the afternoon light filtering through the curtains obscures it just a little. Jon, on the other hand, doesn’t have the embarrassed blush that usually darkens his cheeks; instead he breathes fast, his hands shaking ever so slightly. Martin sees him hunch just a little, making himself smaller.

“Um, yeah, I, uh—” He starts fidgeting with his fingers. Did the idea of—of love frighten Jon so much? He was stupid to leave it out in the open and now Jon knows, and it’s not how he feels, so he hates him… “I’m sorry.”

Jon’s eyes snap to him, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“For what?”

Martin huffs out something like a pained laugh.

“Th-That’s not exactly how- how I wanted to tell you.” He wrings out his hands and shoots Jon a pleading look. What’s done is done and the only thing he can hope for is for Jon to let him down easy and never speak of this again.

“Tell me?” Jon looks down at the notebook again and there’s the worry again, stark on his face. He breathes out, slowly, and looks at the floor. “I don’t—I don’t even want to think this is a possibility…”

Martin doesn’t need to imagine what it would be like to be stabbed, if he wanted to - he’s pretty sure the acute pain of his heart shattering in his chest is close enough. His mind tries to catch up to the emotions, slow them down just a bit, because something seems off, and isn’t this a weird way to reject someone you must have known had a crush on you? But his throat tightens with the swell of pain and shame and Martin blinks away the tears welling up in his eyes.

Jon sighs and plops down on the couch, hiding his face in his hands and pushing his glasses up to his forehead.

“We d-don’t have to talk about it, if—if you don’t want to,” Martin says quietly. He sits down next to Jon, careful not to touch him in any way, and puts his hands between his knees.

Jon lets out a bitter laugh.

“Isn’t that what they—the Web would want? Just… mindlessly follow, go with the flow until something… irreversibly bad happens?”

Martin turns to Jon with a frown.

“Wh—What?”

Jon looks at him with something glistening in his eyes and Martin can see the lines of pain and misery written on his face like they belong there.

“The web,” he says faintly. “Strings of fate. I—” He lets out a breath. “Was I just being manipulated this whole time? Was I ever really—Did I ever have a choice?”

“Jon... what are you talking about?”

“You—You said I was...” He reaches for the notebook and points at a verse with his finger. “’Made your choice unaware you were led by strings of web against your heart.’ How—W-Why did you say this?”

Martin stares into Jon's green eyes with concern, yet parts of his heart start to weave themselves back together. However confused and worried Jon seems to be, none of it is directed at Martin; he looks at him with desperation, almost pleading, and he realizes they’ve been having two different conversations at the same time.

“Oh-Oh, God, Jon, I-I didn't mean—I just, it's a-a metaphor, just that, you know,” he takes a breath. “It does remind me of a web, the-the way we got caught up in Elias' plans.” He looks down, his cheeks burning as he remembers why Jon would get caught at this specific phrase. “I'm sorry for, uh, using that, it was just the first thing that came to my mind and—”

Jon exhales next to him and Martin risks a look up. The uneasiness isn't gone from his face but he relaxes just a little bit, enough to stabilize his breathing.

“I'm sorry for this… this whole thing, Martin.” He gestures at nothing in particular and it's his turn to look at the floor, as if it's all of a sudden the most interesting thing he's ever seen. He starts fidgeting with the notebook. “I'm just—What if it’s true?” His voice goes higher at the question and he closes his eyes. Martin squeezes his arm. “What if I am just... Just a puppet? An inhuman, helpless puppet in the hands of—Of some spider pulling the strings?”

A tear rolls down Jon's cheek and Martin grabs one of his hands. It’s small and still shakes a little; he tries to put all the protectiveness he feels into this small gesture. Jon doesn’t recoil this time, instead taking a moment to watch Martin’s hand clasp around his.

“Jon,” Martin starts softly. “You're still you. You're not some—Some spider puppet that can't make choices.”

“But what if—”

“You've made a choice to go into the Lonely for me.” Martin bumps their knees together lightly and Jon looks up at him. “I don't suspect any webs would need me alive to push you into it. It was You.”

Jon looks him in the eyes and Martin barely stops himself from reaching up to his face to wipe away his tears.

“Or it just makes us think that we have a choice but are ultimately helpless against fate and everything we do is determined by intricately crafted circumstances,” Jon whispers. “Maybe free will is a lie.”

Martin blinks.

“Jon...”

“Maybe I was never able to stop it. Any of it.” Jon’s voice grows more horrified and even though his eyes are directed at Martin's face, he seems to be looking somewhere past him. “Maybe nothing we try to do really matters.”

“Jon.” Martin’s voice gains a bit of force, even though he feels all but sure. “What do you see?”

Jon frowns. “What?”

“Look at me and tell me what you see?” The force is gone; the sentence sounds more like a feeble suggestion than a request, but Jon's eyes refocus on Martin's in a frown of confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“We're here now,” Martin says quietly. “And yeah, maybe our decisions are all predetermined or whatever. I still think it matters that we try. I think our experience matters. And you're not a-a monster without free will, Jon. You care about people, and you’ve sacrificed a lot for other people. You've made your own choices and, no matter if they were good or bad, they were still yours. And I think that matters.”

Jon blinks at him for a moment, then his shoulders slump with a sigh and he interlaces their fingers. Martin doesn’t miss it and he feels warmth in his chest.

“I've always been afraid of—of my will not being my own anymore,” he confesses quietly. “Of, uh... of not knowing the difference.”

“I get it,” Martin nods. “If it’s any consolation, I see a lot of Jon in you still.” Jon looks up at him with surprise and Martin gives him a half smile. “I see a very changed Jon but it's still Jon.” He strokes Jon's palm as his heart picks up the pace. “The same Jon I've first fallen in love with.”

Jon exhales softly, his face caught in a soft surprise, and Martin smiles around the dull ache in his chest.

“You don't have to say anything. I'm sure you've known for a while, but I just... I wanted to say it.”

With every second that passes in silence, however, Martin's cheeks grow hotter, and he concludes that this might have been a mistake.

“I-I'm sorry. M-Maybe I shouldn't have said that, I… I don't want things to get weird or anything, so, uh, we can, we can just forget—”

“Martin.” Jon says his name in a soft and kind of inquisitive way that makes his heart bounce around and transforms the ache in his chest into swirling butterflies again. Martin looks up and Jon’s head is tilted to the side, his face still wet with tears, but he notices something hopeful glitter in his eyes. “I love you too.”

Martin frowns, suddenly wondering if he isn't dreaming. Is Jon really saying what he thinks he is? Did he hear correctly? Maybe he misheard—

“I have for a while,” Jon's voice is still quiet and soft. “I didn't want to say anything because I thought it was too early after the Lonely and you might not feel this way anymore, but...”

Martin swallows, acutely aware of how loud his heartbeat is. He squeezes Jon’s hand and smiles slightly.

“I... I didn't know,” he whispers, not trusting his voice to cooperate.

“As soon as I woke up from the coma, I wanted to tell you,” Jon says. “I thought I was too late; that it took me too long to stop denying the feelings I had because I didn’t know how to deal with them, and I'd missed my chance.” He laughs bitterly.

“So that’s what it was about,” Martin whispers, as Jon's actions towards him throughout his time as Peter Lukas’ assistant start falling into place. Jon looks at him with a frown, so he adds, “The ‘let's gouge out our eyes and escape'.”

Jon scrunches up his nose and clears his throat.

“Yes, well. Yeah.”

Martin chuckles quietly.

“I don't think I would have lasted in the Lonely if I understood then. But then again. It didn't really matter in the end. It didn't help.”

“But it was your choice,” Jon echoes Martin's words from before and their eyes meet again.

“Yeah. It was my choice.”

They stare into each other's eyes for a moment, losing track of time, before Jon smiles slightly and looks back at the notebook.

“I really am sorry for not asking your permission, though,” he says. “I got so caught up in the metaphor I didn’t even finish it.”

Martin blinks, the warmth from his chest spreading to his cheeks again.

“D-Do you want to?”

Jon smiles softly, this new smile that Martin has only seen in the past couple of days, always directed at him.

“If you’d let me.”

Martin needs to look away, unable to handle the affection in Jon’s eyes. He mumbles an ‘okay’ with a smile that’s not entirely under his control and gets up.

“But I am making that tea whether you want it or not, waiting for someone to finish reading something is a torture.”

He hears Jon laugh as he heads back to the kitchen.

When he comes back with two steaming mugs, Jon is waiting for him with a smile and his nervousness dissipates with his next words.

“I like it,” Jon says. “Apart from the, uh, web metaphor, obviously. It's hopeful.”

“Y-You do?”

Martin swallows; the pleasant tingling in his stomach is back. He places their mugs on the table and reaches out to join their hands again. Jon intertwines their fingers immediately and caresses the outside of Martin’s palm with his thumb.

Jon looks down at the verses again and smiles softly, almost sheepishly, a familiar blush darkening his cheeks.

“I—I don't know if there would be anything for us outside of. You know. The fears and all that,” he grimaces. “At least, for me. But, uh…” He looks at Martin again with a hopeful expression that makes Martin melt a little, and he gently caresses Martin's cheek with his free hand. “I really like the thought of it.”

Martin's brain might be short-circuiting at this moment and all of his thoughts take form of fuzzy static.

“Me too,” he says, suddenly breathless. Jon's hand rests cupping his cheek and, are they a bit closer than they were a second ago? Jon's gaze slides down Martin's face to his lips and he feels he might faint right there and then. He doesn't, instead gathering up his courage to take a breath.

“Can I kiss you?” Jon asks first and Martin feels his lips form a grin.

“Please,” he breathes out; the next second their lips meet, soft but urgent, desperate and sick of waiting. Martin's hand dives into Jon's soft hair, fingers scraping the delicate skin of his head and earning him a low sound from Jon's throat. They pull each other closer and find a rhythm to lose themselves in for just a moment; the sensation of Jon's tongue swirling in his mouth, of his slender fingers on his cheek and his neck, the pressure of his body against his chest; all of it making Martin dizzy with happiness.

Martin pulls away when his lungs painfully remind him breathing is still a necessity and he opens his eyes to look at Jon – His soft lips, his nose, his pockmark scars, and his eyes, green yet with no trace of Beholding in them. He takes him in whole, with all of his flaws and all of his virtues, and he feels seen in return, seen by the man he loves and who loves him. The weight of it all hits Martin like a crashing wave and he pulls Jon in for a tight embrace.

“I love you,” he whispers against his shoulder, and he feels Jon's arms tightening around his torso.

“I love you too, Martin.”

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #summer in the archives event #niki.writes #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin

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the-only-ace · 4 years ago

Note

can you please write something about taem's enlistment? honestly feel awful i feel like he's lowkey sad about it i just wanna give baby cheese a hug :(

haiii i love this request since it is really well... timely (?). i have been planning to finish this request before taemin's enlistment but yeah, here we are... things been busy. so i hope this one is not that late and may this be some sort of comfort for everyone as we wait for our baby cheese's return.

serve well and always take care, taem! we will be just here and wait for your return with bright smiles on our faces.

taemin scenario: looking forward

pairing: taemin x reader

word count: 2.7k

summary: it is taemin's last few hours before his military enlistment and reader tries their best to ease his worries. both are making sure that they have spent the remaining time together to the fullest.

warning: semi-nudity, implied sexual activity (no smut thought)

send in your requests here!

your eyelids slowly fluttered open and soft rays of sunlight greeted your still adjusting eyes. you attempted to rub the sleepiness away from your eyes before slowly sitting up. your raised both of your arms above your head and stretched with a small grunt. the sheets fell down and exposed your naked torso to the cool breeze from the air conditioner. you looked at your side and smiled gently. you rested your cheek on your bended knee and gazed at the sleeping figure beside you.

taemin was sleeping soundly on his chest and the blanket was comfortably wrapped around his hips while his broad bare shoulders were displayed to you. his head was tilted to the side, facing your direction. his eyes were closed with a hint of dark circles visible underneath them--a sign of his hard work within the last few months. his lips were slightly parted and you can hear his soft breaths. his hair that used to be unruly as they got ruffled by the pillows was now cut short. you can't help but reach out and touch them with your cold fingers.

there he was, the love of your life. it may sound cheesy and a bit cliche but it was true. he was your first boyfriend and you were more than pleased that you're still together given how young you both were when you met years ago. you went through a lot of ups and downs like every other relationship out there. it was also challenging at first especially with the nature of his work since he can not fully dedicate his time to you. you eventually got over it mainly because you knew how important and passionate he was with his career. every after his performances, you can see his eyes lit up and his lips stretched into a big bright smile. it was then you knew you have to support this man. you have to be his rock when things got shaky and unstable.

you two actually hit a big milestone in your relationship quite recently. you were living with him for more than a year already and both of you were still amazed how no media outlet has sniffed it out yet. also considering the number of times taemin recorded a live video around the apartment, you're just thankful there were still no accidental reveals.

your train of thought was cut short when taemin suddenly stirred on his position. "sorry, did i wake you?" you asked softly as you retracted your hand away from his hair.

he shook his head before dragging himself towards you. his arms found their way around your waist and his head rested contently on your lap. you smiled at his behavior and then proceeded to stroke his hair again. both of you stayed like that for a bit and soaked into each other's presence while waiting for the drowsiness to pass.

"is it weird?" his muffled voice broke the silence after a few minutes.

"what is?" you inquired back.

"my hair." he rolled to his back and looked up at you.

"it's... new." of course it was, just a few days ago you were happily playing with his hair and extensions. he always allowed you put it up into a bun whenever he came back home. now, you can barely grip them with your fingers. "it's not weird, just new. it actually made you look younger in my opinion." you reassured him with a small giggle.

he frowned and groaned, clearly displeased on your response. he thought you were just lying to make him feel better. he won't believe you anyway even you deny it so you decided to ignore his sulking. you then began drawing lazy shapes across his skin while he started to hum one of his songs. your fingers eventually linger around his tattoos and you can't help but admire them.

"should i get one?" you muttered more to yourself actually but taemin heard it very distinctly. it made him shot up from the bed and beamed at you widely.

"you should!" he exclaimed excitedly. '"i mean if you really want to. we can even go to my artist and get one together."

"okay, calm down, mister." you chuckled since was almost bouncing with enthusiasm. "where should i place it though?"

"well... it would look nice here." he reached out and touch your rib area. his eyes soon landed on the red mark beside his index finger and a playful smirk slowly made its way to his lips. "or here..." he continued and moved his pointer on your collar bone, on another one of his marks. "here would be good too..." he went on and on while pointing out all of his work while his grin grew bigger and naughtier.

"stop..." you rolled your eyes and push his hand away. "i know what you're doing. someone went overboard last night." you can't help but narrow your eyes at him. it would be a pain to hide later when you go to work.

"i'm sorry, i just thought they would be a great parting gift." he shrugged before leaning closer. "so did you like it?" he raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"eh... it's alright, i guess." you teased with a joking scowl.

"well, that can be fixed easily." he tackled and pinned you down in the bed, making you let out a high-pitch scream. he wasted no time on littering quick kisses all over your neck. you writhed under him as you attempted to escape him since you were feeling ticklish from his soft lips.

a blaring alarm noise interrupted your noises and movements. taemin pushed himself up and looked at the clock on your bedside table. he took a deep heavy sigh before dismissing the alarm. you immediately felt the change in his mood as he got up from the bed.

"i'll go brew us some coffee," he announced and got out of the bedroom.

it was now your turn to sigh. you already tried your best to ease his worries yesterday but just like you have predicted he was still troubled. you can't blame him though, after doing only one thing ever since he was only 12 years old, you get why he was anxious about this upcoming change. not to mention that he will be going through this alone in a way. his other members enlisted at the same time so the thought of someone experiencing the same helped them get through it much easier.

you got up and walked towards the chair near the bed and snatched taemin's shirt that was carelessly hanging from its backrest. you pulled it down your head and you can't help but smell his scent; it was his favorite shirt after all. god, you were going to miss him so bad.

you followed taemin towards the kitchen and the aroma of the coffee greeted you. he looked at you from head to toe and it made him smirk. he knew how much you love stealing his shirts. it was quite comforting to know that at least his clothes will be used even though he was away.

preparing breakfast was peaceful and intimate. taemin was hugging you from behind while you cook your meal; outrightly ignoring your protests since it was not really easy to move around with him clinging to you. in a few minutes, both of you are sitting down at the dining table and quietly enjoying the hot food in front of you.

it felt like a normal lazy morning. days like these were common after his promotions. it was when he has some time to rest and replenish his energy. those were the days you always anticipate since you were able to see him more often and spend more quality time together. if he didn't have a buzz cut, it was easy to fool yourself that this day was one of those.

"do you think, i'll do well?" he suddenly asked when he placed his chopsticks down.

"of course," you quickly replied without missing a beat. no matter how many times you convinced him already, you will never get tired of doing it if that will give him peace of mind.

"what makes you say so?" he looked up and met your unwavering eyes. "what if i'm not fit for it?"

"and what if you are?" you challenged. "look, we'll never know something unless we try it but trust me, knowing you, you'll do just fine. they used to criticize your singing career back then and look where you are now. you don't let external factors affect you and you always work hard to achieve your goals. so what makes this different? i know once you set your heart to something, you'll be able to do it. you just have to trust yourself as well."

"always saying the right words," he sighed and rested his head on his hand. "what will i be without you?"

"still probably as great as you are now." you knew that taemin achieved his success on his own. all those late-night practices and sacrificing a normal life as a teen, it was all him. you were only his supporter who hopefully made the process a bit easier. "besides, you crushed the obstacle course in dream team last time so i believe the drills will be manageable for you." you cheekily added.

"wow, you still remember that? i'm no minho though." he shook his head while chuckling.

"no one's like that competitive monster." you scoffed.

"yeah..." he trailed off, obviously being concern about another matter again. "i hope our fans won't forget me."

"don't be stupid." you frowned and kicked him lightly under the table. "of course they would wait for you especially after being their comfort when the other members were serving their time. i'm sure that they would be counting the days for your return and they would be delighted to see you again. although, no one would be more thrilled than me so... don't forget me as well."

"how can i forget you if i will be thinking of you every single day?" he stood up and gave you a kiss on the forehead. "thank you."

"for what?" you inquired.

"for always being there especially when i need it the most." his tone was warm and heartfelt. "i should probably take a shower now."

you nodded and listened to his footsteps disappear into the bathroom. as soon as you heard the water running, you stood up as well and placed the plates on the sink. you then went back to your shared bedroom and doubled check the contents of his black backpack, making sure that he did not forget anything important. knowing him, there was a huge chance that he does. you also added a few extra clothes and toiletries just in case he did something stupid and end up breaking or losing some of his stuff.

it felt wholesome to pack his things for him. as if you were his wife helping him prepare for his upcoming trip. if only the trip wasn't going to be 18 months long.

the time flew by quickly after taemin's shower and suddenly you were by the doorway, watching him wear the straps of his backpack. you handed him his black baseball cap before fixing the strings of his black hoodie.

"you all set?" you asked trying hard not to make your voice crack. it was finally sinking in for you and you didn't want him to know that.

"yeah," he nodded as he fixed his cap.

both of you stood there, not really knowing what to do or say next. you should probably wish him luck and send him off but you don't want to. not yet, you keep on repeating to yourself. sensing your dejection, taemin suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you into one of the tightest hugs he has ever given. your hands quickly wrapped around him and you buried your face on his chest, inhaling his scent and trying to memorize it--even though you already do.

"i'm going to miss you," he whispered tenderly. "so much."

"i will miss you too." you finally let out the sob you were holding back. thinking that it was impossible, his embrace tightened even more around your shaking frame.

he kissed the top of your head and murmured how much he loves you again and again. right then and there, you wanted to be selfish and don't let him go, and as if on cue his phone started to ring. he answered it and their conversation was less than a minute but you know exactly what it was about.

"they're downstairs already," he stated as he let go of you.

"you should not keep them waiting then." you clumsily wipe away the tears in your eyes.

you both bid your goodbyes before sharing one last kiss. he then got out of the apartment and closed the door behind him.

and just like that, you were left there in complete silence. you blankly stare at the closed door and you never felt more alone in your life.

you were about to turn around when the door burst open without warning. standing there was taemin who unmistakably ran back considering his heavy pants.

"taemin?!" you exclaimed from the shock. "what, did you forget something?"

"yes, i forgot to ask you something." he exhaled. "i forgot to ask you to marry me," he said in full seriousness while staring straight into your eyes.

"y-you... what? huh?" you fumbled with your words as your brain tried to process whatever he just said. "w-what did you say? i don't--" you attempted to ask again.

"when i get discharged, will you marry me?" he repeated as he moved closer towards you. you just gaped at him without saying a word and that made the nervousness slowly crept into him. "sorry, i was not able to get a ring since this was... well, spontaneous. but um... here, will this do?" you watched him remove the ring he was always wearing on his right hand. he unceremoniously raised it in front of you and waited for your reply.

you were beyond stunned. sure, you both talked about getting married someday but you didn't think he would propose today. you always knew that when he planned for the special day, you will easily catch on. he was not really the best planner and secret keeper after all. nothing has prepared you for this moment.

"y/n?" he cautiously called out, getting a little concern from your lack of response.

you looked away from the ring and moved your eyes to meet his uneasy ones. he was undoubtedly waiting for your answer.

"yes," you barely managed to blurt out. "yes, of course, i do!" you repeated, this time firmer.

you have practically seen the weight off his back after hearing your response. he broke into a tiny celebration dance before composing himself again and sliding the ring into your finger.

"okay... i didn't think about that part." the ring was big for you which was not surprising. "sorry, i'll just get you a new one soon." he embarrassingly rubbed the back of his neck.

"it's alright, it's perfect." you can now feel another urge to cry but this time it is out of happiness.

"i love you," his expression soften and one eyebrow raised up, a habit of his whenever he says something genuine. he titled your chin up and captured your lips for a passionate kiss. you stand on your tiptoes in your attempt to deepen the kiss which made him smile. his other hand moved to your lower back and pulled you closer to him while you ran your fingers through his hair. it felt right, both of you know exactly that this is where you two belong--with each other.

however, your little heaven was interrupted once again by the ringing of his phone.

"okay, you should definitely go now." you ultimately let go of your hold around him.

he nodded. he knew he cannot delay his departure any longer. "goodbye."

"goodbye," you echoed. "just for now."

he waved his hand before going out and shutting the door. this time though, he did not come back running. you knew he was on his way to his enlistment and you would be alone in the apartment for months but right now, you did not feel that lonely anymore.

you looked down and adored the ring around your finger. 18 months would indeed move slowly but it will be bearable because this time, both of you have something to look forward to.

#shinee #taemin #lee taemin #taemin x reader #shinee requests #shinee scenarios #shinee request #shinee scenario #taemin enlistment #taemin proposal #taemin tattoo #shinee world #shinee x reader #shinee x you #taemin x you

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thatdorkyauthor · 3 years ago

Text

Almost easy (Transformers x reader insert) Chapter 1.3

The shaken up man took the money from the older man after he had signed the papers, happy to get rid of the mysterious camaro that showed up out of nowhere. He would check the security cameras as soon as the little family had left, at least he would’ve if they didn’t break as well during the accident. Meanwhile an argument broke out between the twins, fighting over who would be the first to drive the striped beauty, and bring him home. “I’m older.” “By twelve minutes.” Ron sighed, and gave the bickering siblings a warning glare. It wasn’t the first time they had that exact argument, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last time either. The glare went unnoticed by the both of them, as they were too busy glaring at each other. “Exactly, besides girls can’t park.” “Says who?” “Society.” “That’s bullshit, besides at least I didn’t fail a thousand times to get my licence.” Bobby stared awkwardly at the two as he prayed the two would hurry up and get the car away from him, it was getting too much for him. “Enough you two.” Their father had heard enough, finally he got the teens attention. “Make a decision and hurry up, we don’t have all day.” Sam was the first to move towards the Camaro as he slowly walked backwards. “Fine.” He mumbled before turning fully towards the car. “Winner drives, -Hey !” (Y/n) was a step ahead of him as she was already getting closer to the car. “Loser takes the passenger seat.” She finished reaching the car and opening the driver's door with a smile on her face. Sam groaned in annoyance as he reached the passenger side.

“All right Mojo, I got the car. Now I need the girl.” (Y/n) looked up from her book, raising an eyebrow. “And exactly how are you hoping to do that?” Sam jumped back with a yelp, only now acknowledging his sister's presence in the room. “Since when- Whatever, now that I got a car, girls will probably be dying to go for a ride with me.” A laugh escaped the girl's mouth, which turned into a fit of giggles within a second. “Yeah right.” Sam opened his mouth to argue but decided against it and turned around to grab his wallet. “I’d need money to take out the girl.” He opened it and to his disappointment it was empty. “(Y/n) can I-?” He was cut off before he could ask his younger sibling for some money. “Nope.” The boy clicked his tongue in exasperation before running up the stairs heading to his room, where his laptop was located. The (H/c) girl looked after him until he disappeared behind the wall. She turned her head, glancing at the clock before putting her book on the coffee table in front of her and got up from her comfortable position on the couch. Reaching her arms above her and leaning back until she heard and felt that satisfying pop from her shoulders. She hummed with satisfaction before heading towards the kitchen to grab a glass of her favorite drink. “All right, I know you get wasted on these things, but if you piss on my bed again, you’re sleeping outside. Okay. Take (Y/n)’s bed instead.” The walls in the house weren’t exactly soundproof, allowing (Y/n) to listen to his conversation with Mojo as she filled her glass. “That’s it for today. No more. Crackhead.” The stairs creaked as Sam walked down. “Take (Y/n)’s bed instead.” The younger sibling mocked as Sam walked into the kitchen. “Fuck you, Sam.” He smiled innocently at her before walking outside. “Jerk.” She breathed as she placed the now empty glass on the counter, before following her older brother outside. “Ron, this one is uneven.” Judy complained as she stepped onto a crooked part of the path Ron was placing. “Yeah, probably.” He replied without actually looking back to examine the problem. Sam glanced at his parents before heading straight for the yellow Camaro. “This one is wobbly.” “Yeah. I’ll take care of that real soon.” (y/n) rolled her eyes as she walked over the little path her parents were making. “Couldn’t we have hired a professional?” “Sam.” Ron completely ignored his wife's question as he squinted his eyes at his son, in annoyance and because of the fact that the sun was shining in his eyes. “What?” Completely oblivious to the fact that there was a path, Sam had walked over the grass, much to Ron’s dismay as he had been working on the path since he and the twins came back from picking up the car. “I do not like footprints on my grass.” Sam looked behind him, trying to find the mentioned footprints. “That’s why I built my path. So why don’t you go from my grass onto my path, okay?” “It’s family grass, dad.” Ron sat up straight, looking at Sam with a frown on his face. “Well when you own your own grass, you’ll understand. Besides (Y/n) uses the path.” Neglecting his fathers protests, he turned to Mojo, who had left the house during the little argument and climbed the ladder, noticing the sparkles around his doghouse. “This… I can’t do this anymore. You’re putting girl jewelry on a boy dog.” With a sigh (Y/n) walked over to the Camaro, sitting down on the hood of the car as she watched the scene unfold in front of her. “What?” Judy asked as she looked between Sam and the dog. “He’s got enough self-esteem issues as a Chihuahua, mom.” “That’s his bling, (Y/n) a little help here?” The teen raised her hands in defense. “Not a part of this mom, besides Mojo and self-esteem issues. He acts like he’s a Anatolian Shepherd, he’s a demon disguised as a Chihuahua.” Both Sam and Judy shared a look, before shaking their heads as the tiny dog growled at the girl. “Right, last time we’re letting you watch a horror movie.” Ron chuckled before getting back to his precious path. Sam mumbled something under his breath as he walked over to the car. “Off.” (Y/n) indeed got off but got into the passenger's seat. “Why are yo-?” He got cut off as Judy placed her hands on her hips. “I want you both home at eleven!” The passenger side window rolled open, making the young girl look at it with confusion. “Yeah, alright.” Sam answered as he inserted the car keys. “Eleven!” “Please, for the love of God, drive safely. You have (Y/n) with you!” Judy waved at the mentioned girl, who just gave her a look of disappointment. “Seat belts on!” Both Sam and (Y/n) waved her off as Sam started the car. They drove away, leaving black smoke behind. “Wow, you are so cheap.” Judy looked at her husband, who just shrugged in response. “Well, it’s their first car. It’s supposed to be like that.” The woman shook her head before heading inside, taking off her gardening gloves in the process. “So why exactly did you tag along?” Sam eventually questioned as he sped to Miles’ house. “I was bored, besides after this week I could use a good laugh.” She explained as she leaned back comfortably in the passenger's seat. Her brother glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. “With that you mean?” “Seeing you fail at asking out girls.” The radio buzzed, it almost sounded like laughter. “Weird, but okay, rude. I’m not talking to you anymore.” (y/n) huffed in amusement, a smile on her face. “Right.”

#transformers x reader #transformersreaderinsert #transformers reader insert #transformers 2007

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with-paint · 4 years ago

Text

A Drunk Video

Rating: Teen and up

Paring: Harry Styles x fem!reader (platonic pairing only)

Word Count: 3,641

Summary: You and Harry get absolutely wasted and make a decision to make a YouTube video. It was probably a bad decision

Warnings: lots of swearing, sexual themes but they’re all joking, WAP, small slut shaming

A/N: listen this was a fic I wrote aggggges ago. I just suddenly remembered it and wanted to share my sins with the masses. I’m not going to apologise for doing what’s RIGHT.

You hummed as you trotted up the stairs of the very modern apartment building. The grey walls were spotless and the bright white lights hung low.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you stepped onto the fourteenth floor landing. Why the hell did Harry even have an apartment? He was rich enough to buy a mansion. You contemplated this as you moved along the hall. Looking for the familiar 1402.

You smirked to yourself and knocked on the door. A few moments passed and the door swung open revealing the rock star himself. Harry’s Los Angeles apartment was very sleek. Harry in plaid pajama bottoms, a black jumper, and fuzzy socks, was not.

“Well someone looks comfortable for four pm.” You teased as he smiled at you. He nodded and opened the door wider to let his friend in.

“Had a rough night so I just wanted to be comfortable.” He said running a hand through his hair. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, not wanting to openly stare.

“Rough night hmm?” You teased again, a grin on your face. Harry rolled his eyes and nudged your shoulder.

“I might’ve binge watched that show you like. The entire show.” Harry mumbled as he fell on his couch. You snickered as you slid down next to him. Harry groaned and moved so his head was on your smaller shoulder.

“You binge watched Sherlock in one day? I’m impressed.” You laughed out as you ran your hand through his messy hair. Harry nuzzled more into you, trying to feel more of you scratch his head.

“Benedict Cumberbatch is.” Harry moved away slightly to put his hand in the air. He made the ‘okay’ sign and you laughed.

“That he is.” You nodded as Harry settled back down onto you. You two laid like that for a few minutes. You absentmindedly twirling and scratching Harry’s hair as you stared out of the giant windows making up his far wall. The busy Los Angeles evening greeted your site. It was comfortable.

“You want to order some food?” Harry spoke, his voice completely muffled by your shoulder. You smiled down at him. You were sure that if anyone could see you, they could tell how much you cared for the man. It wasn’t a romantic adoration, just true love for another person without expectations or further meanings. You just simply loved him.

“If you want. Pizza?” You asked, making you feel Harry’s smile press into you. He shifted so his head was lying on your lap. Harry stared up at you before closing his eyes peacefully.

“Read my mind.” He hummed as you ran a hand through his thick hair again. You smiled softly and brought your phone out of your pocket. You two ordered a pizza each and remained cuddled up until the doorbell rang.

Harry sighed and untangled himself from your lap. He padded over to the door as he ruffled his hair, trying to get it to appear less flat. He opened the door and greeted the delivery man with a smile.

You picked at the threads of your ripped jeans and flowed into the kitchen. As Harry was talking, you grabbed some plates and cups and brought them to Harry’s small glass table.

“We should film something for your channel.” Harry said as he closed the door behind him, the boxes being clutched in his arms. You smiled at him and nodded. You always felt a little guilty whenever you featured Harry on your channel. You never wanted for him to feel as if you were clout chasing. You were friends with him before you became big on YouTube and you wanted him to remember that.

“Yeah, we could sing some songs. Make it stupid.” You mused propping your chin on your hand. Harry smiled as you, dimples popping. He served you a slice and sat next to you in his seat.

“Make it stupid.” He agreed. The two always made sure that if they were going to post something, it had to be for laughs. Anything serious between you two was unheard of.

You had been a part of the Eroda music video. You had actually helped direct it. You and Harry had been drunk in Peru when the thought struck you both, and it was a collaborate idiotic idea that created the music video. To say that a few months later, you were dressed with weird hair as Harry sang to a fish, was serious? Absolutely not. You two just wanted to make something stupid. And you both fully succeeded.

As you two ate, you brainstormed on what you were going to sing. With a few glasses of wine in your stomachs, you had both equally bad ideas.

“Fuck.” You hissed as you accidentally spilled your wine on your clothes. Harry giggled as he eased the glass out of your hands.

“I think you drank too much,” He smiled and you couldn’t help but smile back. “I’ll go get you some clothes. You probably have some here anyway.”

You tried to dab the wine off you, but rolled your eyes. It was pointless. As you started to drum on the table, Harry chucked some clothes at your back. Your mouth opened in shock and you flipped him off.

You just pulled your shirt off and put a loose grey shirt then your short shorts on. Your usual go-to sleep clothes. You didn’t really care that you were changing in front of Harry. Lord knows you were comfortable enough with each other to see each other in your underwear. You looked up and Harry wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Let’s get this show on the road then, pop star.” You giggled as you leaned over and ruffled his hair. Harry looked at you lazily and watched you with half closed eyes. You wiped your hands on your shorts and set up your camera, focusing it on the two couches by Harry’s TV.

“Looks like we’re filming a porno.” Harry snickered, a wide smile on his face as he wiped his eyes. You smiled at him and flipped him off.

“You wish.” You sang as you put your laptop on his kitchen counter. You leaned forward and began typing with a smirk on your face.

“Imagine if we did have sex though.” Harry said. You furrowed your eyebrows and turned to look at him over your shoulder.

“Boy, I love you, but you are not touching me. Especially when we’re both drunk.” You said with a slight grimace. Harry pouted and leaned back in his chair.

“You take the fun out of everything.” He giggled and leaned his elbows on his table. He continued to watch you and a big smile spread over your face suddenly. You looked over at him with an evil glint in your eyes and Harry gulped. He especially didn’t like it when you gave him that look. The last time you turned to him with the evil eye, Harry had been convinced to be strapped onto a helicopter for the Sign of the Times music video as you laughed from behind the camera.

Little did Harry know you had picked a song conviently called Harry by Kelsey Karter. Kelsey wrote the song about your friend here. She posted a picture on Instagram with a tattoo of Harry on her cheek promoting the song. You had found it when the picture came out and it was honestly a banger. You also adored that Kelsey did it all for a publicity stunt and the tattoo wasn’t even real. Genius.

“Come to the couch H.” You teased as you hit record on your camera. Harry narrowed his eyes at you and fell over the back of his couch and laid down long ways.

Harry watched as you said your intro a few times. You kept stumbling over your words in your intoxicated state and that for whatever reason made Harry giggle. You flipped him off and smiled at the camera sweetly.

“This is my friend Harry,” Harry smiled, his dimples popping as he waved to the camera. He slouched down in his comfortable clothes, matching your attire. He was sure that once this video aired he was going to be clowned for how domestic you both looked, but he didn’t care. The sight of you two so content and in a state of bliss was very rare. You scrunched your nose at him. Something he returned happily.

“We’re going to sing you some songs, if you like. Harry, you want to go first?” You asked him as you cocked your head to the side. Harry tapped his chin in mock thought and shook his head.

“Your channel, you can go first.” He said, his voice drawing out slowly. You smirked and nodded.

“I’d like to just say that me and Harry are both pretty drunk. Also we were talking about porn earlier so there is slight context to why I’m doing this.” Harry put his head in his hands and groaned. He knew that you were carefree enough to be okay with putting that on the Internet and he just had to accept that. And be prepared to put twitter on silent.

You walked over to Harry’s kitchen counter. Your laptop was opened and shining brightly in the slightly dim room. You tapped on it, making sure to keep it from the camera and Harry’s pryful eyes.

You smirked as the music started and fluffed your hair as you walked over to Harry. You tugged him to sit up on the couch and began to sing.

“I blacked out, passed out, first time we met. It wasn't drugs, could be love, but it's probably sex.” You sat on the couch next to him and at ‘sex’ you put a hand on his thigh. Harry raised his eyebrows at you as you smiled and continued to sing along with the recording.

“Cool stare, greased hair curled around your eye. I wanna take a dirty picture, send it to your mind, I'm not just thinkin' 'bout you.” You ran your hand through his hair again and Harry smiled a little wider. You moved your hand down to his neck and ran it down to his chest.

“I'll treat you better than the girls you're hangin' out with. Take you to heaven and I'll show you all around it. I'll never ever let you down. Ooh.” You moved off the couch and circled to the back. Wrapping your arms around his neck and leaned down and sang into his ear. You blew in it making Harry giggle as a drunk flush came over his features.

“Harry. I'm gonna make you love me, you’re gonna make me breakfast. It's a secret just between us we can keep it low-key. I ain't being funny, you should be so lucky to put your, put your velvet arms around me.” You fell over the back of the couch like Harry did earlier. But this time you put your legs around his waist as you made him wrap his arms around your shoulders. Harry laughed at this and bobbed his head to the music, showing to you and the camera that he didn’t care for your sexual intentions just as much as he knew you didn’t care to really make it sexual.

“I'm g-g-g-g-gonna make you love me.” You sang and they both tried to not burst out laughing.

“Yeah, I'm staring at you in the magazines every day. Feel like I'm seventeen never been touched this way. I'm thinking 'bout you.” You rolled off him to sit on his coffee table. With idiotic acting you crossed your legs and pulled up one of the magazines that was laying there. You gazed over the top of it with a smirk and Harry wiggled his fingers in a wave.

“I'll treat you better than the boys you're hangin' out with.” You bit your lip and leaned back on the coffee table. You knew you looked like an idiot, but that was the point.

“Take you to heaven and I'll show you all around it. I'll never ever let you down. Ooh Harry.” You rotated your head like a snake charmer and at the beat dropped, you sunk to your knees in front of Harry. He laughed and spread his legs so he could look at you.

“I'm gonna make you love me. You're gonna make me breakfast. It's a secret just between us we can keep it low-key. I ain't being funny. You should be so lucky to put your, put your velvet arms around me.” You tried not to laugh as you stood up and started to dance ‘erotically’. Harry leaned back and pretended to make it rain on you.

“Oh, Harry, Harry. Mmmm, Harry.” You got back on the floor and crawled the short distance to the couch. Making sure to overemphasize your shoulder blades moving.

“Oh, baby, I'm gonna make you love me. Yeah. So put your, put your, put your arms around me.” You sat next to Harry and pushed him to lay down. As you hit the end of the lyrics you laid across his body as Harry laughed obnoxiously.

“I'm gonna, I'm gonna. Gonna, gonna make you love me. Harry!” You sat up and started to twerk horribly on him making Harry cover his face with his arm and he tried not to cry laughing. You made your voice crack on the last note of the song and Harry couldn’t help himself. He tackled you off the couch as you doubled over laughing.

“Are you trying to get me hard in front of all of these people?” Harry joked hovering over you. You snickered and looked behind you at the camera. You caught your breath and nodded at Harry with a grin to match his.

“Mmhm.”

“Well it didn’t work so that’s embarrassing for you.” Your jaw dropped in mock offense and Harry narrowed his eyes at you. You both stared at each other in silence for a few seconds before Harry lost it and you both started laughing again. Harry rolled off you, still giggling.

“So that was Harry by Kelsey Karter. I actually showed this song to Harry. We both had a very entertaining time.” You said, popping up to talk to the camera. Harry put his head on your shoulder and smiled.

“My song is a lot less suggestive. Because this is a family show,” Harry cut you off and you covered your face with your hand. A bright smile spread across your face. Harry leaned forward to look at you.

“Or is itttttt?” You both said and were sent into a new fit of drunken hysterics.

“If you could take that seat there,” Harry said as he pulled you back onto the couch that he was sitting in earlier. He skipped over to your laptop and began typing.

“Get ready to get your panties wet.” He said loudly, making you laugh. You knew you were going to have to edit that out but for now you just laughed at Harry’s brash, drunk personality.

He cleared his throat and clicked play on you laptop. Your mouth dropped. He was not doing this on camera for potentially millions to see. Holy shit.

“Whores in this house. There's some whores in this house.”

You covered your mouth as Harry moved around and danced like a weirdo. He started doing the robot and you leaned your head back in a cackle. You were so fucking glad you were filming this.

“I said certified freak, seven days a week. Wet-ass pussy, make that pullout game weak!” Harry rapped out choppily and started dancing again. You watched him make up horrible moves and he started doing the dance routine One Direction always did which made you almost jump out of your seat.

“Put this pussy right in your face. Swipe your nose like a credit card. Hop on top, I wanna ride I do a kegel while it's inside. Spit in my mouth, look in my eyes. This pussy is wet, come take a dive. Tie me up like I'm surprised. Let's role play, I'll wear a disguise.” Harry rapped, gaining more of a flow the longer he rapped. You were surprised at how well he knew the lyrics. He spun around his living room and you laughed again.

“I want you to park that big Mack truck right in this little garage.” He yelled, dropping to his knees. You shoved a pillow over your face to keep from screaming as tears of laughter rolled down your face.

“Gobble me, swallow me, drip down the side of me. Quick, jump out 'fore you let it get inside of me. I tell him where to put it, never tell him where I'm 'bout to be. I'll run down on him 'fore I have a n**** running me. Talk your shit, bite your lip.” Harry spit out. He put his hand over his mouth when the n word came up and then he slid forward grabbing your hand. He put it to his heart as he rapped.

“Now get your boots and your coat for this wet-ass pussy. He bought a phone just for pictures of this wet-ass pussy. Pay my tuition just to kiss me on this wet-ass pussy. Now make it rain if you wanna see some wet-ass pussy.” Harry winked and lay on the coffee table with his arm propping his head up as he laid down.

“Look, I need a hard hitter, I need a deep stroker. I need a Henny drinker, I need a weed smoker. Not a garden snake, I need a king cobra with a hook in it, hope it lean over.” He pointed at you and your smile widened as you wiggled your shoulders and mouthed out ‘Yass’.

“I don't wanna spit, I wanna gulp. I wanna gag, I wanna choke. I want you to touch that lil' dangly thing that swing in the back of my throat.” At this Harry slid off the table and brought you to stand with him. He moved around and horribly tried to ballroom dance as you laughed so hard you could barely hear the blaring music of Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion.

“Your honor, I'm a freak bitch, handcuffs, leashes. Switch my wig, make him feel like he cheating. Put him on his knees, give him something to believe in. Never lost a fight, but I'm looking for a beating.” Harry twirled you out of his arms and punched the air to the sound effect of the fighting bell. You were feeling inspired and started to twerk like Tina Belcher. Harry tried so hard to not laugh, he almost stopped rapping.

“In the food chain, I'm the one that eat ya. If he ate my ass, he's a bottom feeder. Big D stand for big demeanor. I could make you bust before I ever meet ya.” Harry spun you around and winked obnoxiously.

He dipped you and you pushed him off as you fell to the ground. Your laughter took over you. You did not expect him to rap about getting rimmed, but you were so glad you were recording.

“If he fuck me and ask, "Whose is it?" When I ride the dick, I'ma spell my name. Ah.” You couldn’t help yourself and you started rapping along with him.

Harry jumped on his couch and pulled you up with him. You both just jumped around and laughed as the music continued to play.

“Bring a bucket and a mop for this wet-ass pussy.” Harry wiggled his shoulders like ‘the wobble’ as he slowly snuck to his knees on the couch.

“Now from the top, make it drop. That's some wet-ass pussy.” At this, Harry grabbed the back of your knees and pulled them to him. You shrieked as you fell on his body and you both laughed as you fell onto the couch.

“I'm talking WAP, WAP, WAP.” You couldn’t help but shout this with Harry and you rolled off him and onto the floor.

You propped your chin on the couch as he circled it and stood behind it. With his hands on the back he leaned down so you were a few inches apart.

“That's some wet-ass pussy. Macaroni in a pot.” he whispered leaning way to close to you. You fell back and hit the coffee table with a bang. You clutched your elbow in pain, but kept laughing at him. Harry couldn’t help himself and as the song finished up. He just doubled over the couch and cracked up.

The song started over, but you both were too far gone from laughing to pay attention. Harry’s apartment was full of laughter as your faces went red and you gasped for breath.

“Harry oh my god!” You shrieked and threw a pillow at him. He slapped his thigh and as he giggled.

“We’re making ourselves appear as a pair of sluts.” You said and pushed off the couch to stand up. Harry giggled and nodded.

“Less suggestive my ass.” You teased with a smirk and Harry snickered.

“Yup!” He exclaimed. Harry hopped over the back of his couch to sit down as he tried to regain his breathing. You moved to sit next to him. You were both flushed with big smiles and you waved at the camera.

“Bye!” You yelled and Harry waved too. You moved to turn the camera off and you plopped back onto the couch.

“What the fuck even was that video?!” You exclaimed and Harry smiled at you and shrugged.

“Just say we’re drunk. Then everything makes sense.” He said, throwing an arm around your shoulders. You nodded and covered your face with your hands. You knew this was going to break the internet and honestly you couldn’t wait.

#harry styles #Harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles masterlist #harry styles platonic pairing #harry styles angst #harry by kelsey karter

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jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 5 years ago

Note

Heyo! I was wondering if you could do a scenario during the uprising arc where the reader starts to realize she has feelings for Levi but at first he rejects her? Then during the night before Shiganshina he realizes about her feelings and ends up returning them knowing he doesn't want her to get hurt or die? Some angst fluff please and thank you!

Okay anon you have no idea how much I enjoyed writing this. It's super long and I love how it came to me so naturally. I hope you enjoy

Warnings: a little angst!?

Tags: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

Promise

It all started at the sight of his wet fingertips grazing the broken rim of a teacup. A flutter, a feisty spark in your heart that seemed to drown it in full might had made its presence known to you in a very particular, unwanted moment. The flicker of a tiny flame danced before your eyes, sat at the frame of the window near the sink where you proceeded to rinse through washed dishes.

Levi's pale, chapped skin pulled on his knuckles leaving an unnatural yellowish white tone behind, indicating his involvement with excessive amounts of cleaning products. And for the first time, the sight really pulled a string in your poor heart in a way that was enough to convince you to break the dense silence in the room.

But maybe, you thought, Levi wouldn't want to talk to you.

With an unforgiving steel gaze he stared at your face, blinking in soft, yet erratical paces as you stopped plumping the water from running. In response your tongue was forced to slip inside your mouth and push any unspoken word back to its source, in the depths of your brain. All of a sudden you felt so afraid to talk, so petrified by the general idea of a three syllabus word that wouldn't ever spare the misery off of anyone.

Rejection

Captain seemed to be on the rejective side nevertheless so nothing regarding your newly discovered feelings would matter to him anyway, so in a way you blamed yourself for getting overwhelmed with this whole situation. A dark cloud of doubt shadowed your mind with the intention of interrogating your heart's intentions; perhaps you were mistaken. How on earth could you have been in love with the short man, you didn't know. There were far too many differences between the two of you, be it in appearance, mannerism or even -and more importantly- experiences. Supposing you had lived through similar occurances in battles outside the walls was enough for anyone to consider the two of you to be very alike, it was at least dishonorable to compare your childhood or teenage years to his.

"Nice hands" Of course you had managed to utter the most embarrassing choice of words to him, your mind could never cooperate with you when it came to such serious situations, something you hated so very much. The obnoxious dryness of your eyes was slowly migrating in the caves under your tongue, you could feel your mouth drying more and more by each passing second, yet you did nothing to prevent it.

Judging by Levi's puzzled expression which included his head slightly tilting forward as if to hear you better you knew he was as awestruck as you were at your own words. "I don't really understand where you're coming from but thank you, I guess." He spoke, the usual monotone tint staining his voice. You whipped your head back to a fixed position -on your hands this time- to stare down at the sink. The awkward glances you would throw at him went seemingly unnoticed and as time passed by you felt your tention overwhelming you, this time, completely.

Levi wasn't dense to any body language thrown at him and you were painfully aware. His cold eyes never spared you not even a half cornered look as he rubbed the little sponge on the soap bar next to him. His fingers danced on the ceramic plate, cleansing it in fast and very effective movements, leaving you staring in awe. Whether he was ignoring you on purpose or not you didn't know and you didn't want to seek an answer as to why but at this rate he would probably be the one to inquire why you were burning holes in his hands with your gaze. Again.

"I'm so sorry I'm fixated on your hands" Your mouth run, ignoring your mind's orders to stay shut "It's just-" Dammit think quick for once "You have nice nail beds."

There it was. The evidence that your words had actual brains and that they formed the most improper sentences on their own, just to torture you and push you deeper into piles of goowey, mushy shit. If Levi was anyone else he would have been laughing his ass of at the stupidness of your speech, you knew you would be laughing too if this wasn't as serious. Just as you were sure you heard a chuckle Levi placed the sponge on the bar of soap carefully and extended his arm, fully displaying his hand.

He seemed to study it like it was the first time he had ever even noticed it. The slick, long fingers, the oval shaped nails, his torn open knuckles. Perhaps you were kidding him for the lack of hair on the base of fingers he used to hold his blades with, those were burnt with years of being worn out by the steel triggers of the blades. He speculated this was common among most soldiers, so it didn't seem like a reason to be kidded for and in addition you never were the person to just spit senseless insults as jokes to your comrades.

"Is there even a point to talk about my hands? They're normal hands to me."

You bit your lip as your eyes widened in shock. Realisation hit you that this was probably more that absurd to Levi as it was to you, seeing you had started to talk about his hands out of nowhere. Your mind, in a state of panic, was in the midst of attempting to process every idiotic sentence you had the audacity to blurb out, but it never seemed to find an answer. Boiling with embarrassed, you wiped the water of your hands to your pants, an act that caught Levi's eye, and went to grab the first wooden chair that was in your path. You needed to sit down, to process whatever this was.

Yet, the only explanation you could find was that there was a raging wildfire in the pits of your stomach everytime your thoughts wandered on Levi. Yes, it was possible that what had started as an admiration, a tiny spec of a crush for the slender featured man had been growing on you since forever, but you had always burried it deep, in any hellhole that should accommodate such emotions as this was war and not the plot of sappy romance novel.

The air was cut down short in the room when Levi sat at a chair beside you, watching you over in such demanding manner that only he could master. He proceeded to light the only candle that stood at the middle of the table, possibly in hopes of flaring a conversation or causing a sane sequence of sentences to finally fall from your tongue. It was still unbeknownst to him what had caused you to trip over words as if you were a learning toddler and he yearned to find out, as a sole friend, not as the stern corporal he presented himself to be.

"(y/n)" His voice was tender as he spoke either much mindful to the teens who were sleeping in the next room or unwilling to let a private conversation between the two of you be heard. "If you think I can help with whatever is going on quit acting like a brat and tell me what's on your mind."

Momentarily, you wondered whether he'd stick to his words in case you spilled your heart's infatuating agony but you felt unable to think of a possible dominating scenario in the chaos of your mind. As self destructive as it sounded, you'd prefer to be the one to break your own heart rather than having to stand back and be a martyr to him tearing it off your chest and tearing it. Knowing Levi, this wasn't anything physically impossible, but you doubt that he could ever be as harsh with you.

"I'm just stressed. I have a lot on my mind."

"Erwin's trial and the future of the scouts, huh? Or is it that Hange works your ass off with those experiments?" You scoffed in denial to all of his inquiries, knowing full well that you could have used them as excuses. Levi's sharp hand began a short trip with sole purpose to land at the top of your head, through your loose locks, in an affectionate manner, a little something you had picked up he would do when he really cared for someone. Everyone knew he wasn't particularly touchy, except for some emotional moments with his closest people; a hand on a shoulder and a pat in the head were mostly what you had witnessed him indulging. His hand ruffling with your hair wasn't profound and new at all, he had done so many times after the two of you would strongly disagree over formations and orders, showing you how much he appreciated your strong wits and your clever ideas. What was new was that the lone touch burned your sculp like hot iron and made your insides twitch.

"I'll make us some tea" the screeching creak of the chair being pushed back shook of your train of thoughts enough to form a reaction to his hand that still rested on your head. Almost as if he didn't want to take it off "We can discuss your problem in a-"

"Sit down" you demanded, voice stern, masked with seriousness that caught him off guard. "Take your hand off my hair, it hurts." You pleaded with your eyes to stay as dry as they were before but you were certainly unsure of whether they'd listen. "Can't you see?"

What was there not to see really. Levi probably knew of your fondness of him way before you managed to realise, as in second thought every move you had ever made in his presence betrayed you. He would have never tried to provoke a confession just to laugh at you, that you were sure of, but he had never made a move in reciprocation either, that alone made you sure of your confessions future's end and caused your gut to spit even more fire to the rest of your insides.

Levi was not perplexed, not even for a single moment, at your words that seeked to stab like daggers, he wouldn't allow himself to be toyed by his own emotions just this once. This is an erratical reaction to his touch, a rejection of his affections towards you and he feared he knew the reason. For someone as bright and emotional as you he never would have thought that you could have hid such tormentous emotions so well inside you, only to end up at this moment of snapping.

As much as he'd like not to be hurt in the slightest by your demeanor he couldn't help but feel a tiny string of his heart being pulled. Suddenly it was evident to him why you couldn't take part in normal conversations around him or why you acted so tense in his presence, why you were so rejective of his touches and he wondered if he should have done anything besides unknownably torture you for so long. Whether his heart wanted to hear a confirmation out of your mouth to it's pained pleading for reciprocation, his mind ignored. The time would never be right and as egoistical as it seemed he couldn't bear to lose someone else that close to him, let alone a significant other. From his experience feelings of love and adoration should never be spoken out loud in this cruel world, amongst soldiers, especially. It wouldn't lead to any good.

When you proceeded to speak the pit in his stomach was already welling in frustration and denial. "Levi we've known each other for years and whatever's forcing me to much on my words should stop."

None can do, this couldn't happen here, now, while being on the run by military police as collective criminal. Levi wouldn't allow you to speak those earth shuttering words, even if wanted for them to chaste kiss his ears and echo through his head. "Not like you haven't figured anyways. I'm so pathetic. To fall for my Capt-"

"Don't you dare utter any other word of that sentence. I won't forgive you if you do." His hand reached out to grab yours by the wrist, tightly, as if he didn't know you couldn't stand the intensity of the grip. The silence that towed over the room was freezing, irrational even; it made you want to puke your intestines right onto Levi's shoes. Your heartbeat was so fast, so unrhythmic that you felt like the vital blood red organ would burst out of your chest in a massive mess.

Τhere was an excessive amount of agony emitting from your eyes, slicing through Levi's chest, searching despairately for a sign he had a heart, just to remind you that it didn't belong to you. Your mind traveled through every possible scenario to find a reason as to why you had to endure this, did his affections belong to someone you didn't know of? Hange? Erwin? Nifa seemed to be close to him lately as well. Was he heartbroken before and swore to never love again? You hated that there was not a tiny little space in his heart for you.

Just as this tense moment began, it came to an end when Sasha burst into the room, shotgun on her shoulder and chestnut eyes as sleepy as they could be. Fatigue was overpowering her whole form and it was as evident as ever before your eyes. With a quick, exhausted salute she announced her self, unsure of if you and the captain could see her face under the shadows of the night.

"It's guard change sir!" She spoke.

"I'm coming sweetheart." You got up from the chair you were sat at, breaking your wrist away from Levi's grip in a harsh manner. You didn't spare him a second look as you took another deep breath and locked it in your chest in hopes of seeming a little more mighty. "Go take some rest. You deserve it."

With increasingly fast steps you storm outside the little cottage trying your best not to look back. You wouldn't bear to check if there was still light coming from the kitchen that should indicate Levi's persistent presence. Your knees trembled at the imagery but you wouldn't let your eyes rest behind you not even for a second. He would probably be drinking his tea, unbothered, thinking of anything but you and you would be lying if you were to day that it didn't hurt you. It hurt so much that it sent you on your ass, on the stone tile pattern under your feet. Your heart forced suffocating waves of pain through your whole body only to push out of your eyes in the form of hot, salty tears. As your sobs grew louder and your heartache became unbearable to the point you though you could feel your heart break in two, you pushed the ends of your palms into your eyes sockets to squeeze the pain and itchiness of the tears away. You promised to yourself this was the first and last time you would cry for him.

____

After that night you barely speak with Levi. Aside from following his orders with the eventual 'yessir' as a reply, you have managed to successfully establish a thick barrier between him end you. Your nights of accompanying him in his late hour tea sessions, or teaching him how to knit and embroider were no more. The times you would share your food with him after you'd hear his stomach growl from the small portion he would get were also no more. You had made sure to claim your small acts of affection back to yourself, how could you move on from him if you were trying to be nice.

You would profoundly ignore his gazes, his calls for you at his office at late hours of the night by random cadets. You wouldn't answer to him if it wasn't for something military related and you intended it to keep it that way until the announcements of the feast that would take place before the attempt of retaking wall Maria.

As you passed by a narrow street heading to anywhere away from the crowd of cadets with your drink in your hand, you bumped lousy into the onyx haired male. It was the first time in days or even weeks that you had spared him a glance but your eyes averted his upon impact. You couldn't stand this. It was suffocating you. The clicking of your ankle boots colliding with the ground might have been heard as you turned on your heels to flee the scene but Levi's stern clearing of the throat overshadowed it.

He wasn't having it anymore.

"Oi, wait! Stop on your tracks, this is an order!" He spoke, eliciting a groan out of you as you turned to face him. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

"Captain, I seek to relax before a very hard mission, spare me with your punishments, I beg of you."

His blood boiled with your every word "Cut the damn crap (y/n) and talk to me like normal." It probably sounded more harsh than he intended but he couldn't find himself in a position to turn back time and rephrase those words. The drained look in your eyes tolled him as well. The fact that you were both so tired by this game of cat and mouse was profound and everywhere in the air around you and Levi didn't know if he could take it anymore.

At first he thought that it was for the best. If you both forgot about your feelings or found ways to distract yourselves by this distance then it would be so much easier for him to push through the upcoming events of Shiganshina, but he was surprised to know he was mistaken. Masking his feelings must have seemed easy when it came to grieve and loss; he'd spent hours in his room, with you, letting everything out and occupying himself with trying to improve his handwriting while doing paperwork, but infatuation, love, was different. Instead of fading by each passing day like anger and grief it only ever became stronger, fonder and more agressive, chewing on his insides in despair. He really did hate that he had allowed himself to feel that way but it was way too late by now. There was nothing he could do and the fact that you ignored him after almost squeezing out that much, much wanted confession was only making him feel more hollow and in pain.

But Levi knew how to control himself, he trusted his ability on that.

"What is there to talk about? Let me live my last day in peace." You barked, your eyes starting to dance towards his direction, landing on his chin, then at the curve of his unfairly full bottom lip, on his button upwards nose.

"Look." He paused, unsure of how to put his words into non hurtful sentences. "If you could just tell me why or share a few words with me. We could damn die tomorrow and I'd regret not ever talking you out of this unfair treatment you're giving me."

You wondered if you should open up your heart to him completely, without accepting any interruption from him just to cleanse your coincidence off of this weight. Upon deciding that there was truly nothing holding you back except for a silly fear of another rejection that could die with you tomorrow you opened your mouth to speak any words that came to your mind.

"Levi, I'm in pain. You rejected me. Plain and simple. I've spent so many nights wondering why I am unworthy of your affections but I can't wrap my head around you anymore."

"Is that the way you feel about me? That you're the one who's unworthy of me?"

"You always think so lowly of yourself. Makes me wonder how you trust your own abilities in battlefield. But yes. So I just want to know who is it for you? Who do you feel you're unworthy of?"

He paused for a moment, to regain any shattered piece of his heart you had thrown back to him with your statement. You didn't hate him, be always knew that, but hearing those words fall out of your mouth engulfed the matter into reality unlike before. He was ready to face it. Even if he was unsure of tomorrow he knew that if he was to stay alive while you were dead he would have torn his own brain out as to avoid overthinking this particular moment.

"You want the truth honestly, brat? I happen to think I'm the one unworthy of you. You've taught me how to write and read, you came into my office to check up on an underground scum like me to see if I was asleep. Dammit you even gave me portions of your food to help me withstand the long nights of sleeping in my chair. What have I done for you? Boss you around? Or is it my looks you're after?"

Your eyes widened at his last statement, momentarily preventing the tears that had gathered in the corners from falling. This wasn't a time to misunderstand his words and act foolish, this was the closest out of a confession you would get from the man and you were awestruck, amazed. If he wanted to know a reason you would give him one.

"I'll admit, you might have the face of an angel Levi and maybe that would initial draw anyone to you, including me but I didn't fall in love with you for that." You could tell he was taken aback by the raw nature of your words only by the small whimper that escaped his throat.

"Over the course of this relationship between us you have been there for me when I couldn't be there for myself, you've helped me improve, your hands are stained with blood and so are mine, but you've knitted with me, you've stitched my wounds, you've let me sleep in your bed when I found a giant cockroach in mine, you're so much more than what you paint yourself to be."

He stared at you with ogling, soft eyes. Had he looked at you like that before you were oblivious but there was something in those steel eyes that magnetised your own gaze, something you couldn't let go off. It was calming the knot in your chest with reassurance, bearing promises of the future but he didn't dare speak on them to ruin the moment. His head closed the distance between the two of you in sharp shiftings and now your lips were brushing his in the most suggestive manner possible. It had all happened so fast that you didn't have a chance to react.

"You realised" he whispered, voice soft as the melancholy of the theme of his words captured your breath "that if you happen to die tomorrow, I, myself will hunt you down, resecure you and then proceed to beat the living shit out of you every single day of your shitty life, right?"

He was so beautiful panting with desire under the moonlight and you would never forget. Out of all times this could have taken place it happened now, hours before a deadly expedition. The feeling of regret flooded your form, his as well for not acting upon your feelings sooner and Levi fought an internal battle as to whether he should kiss you or not. He desired to keep that kiss as a reward that you stayed alive for him but on the other hand he feared that this could well be his last chance to taste you for the first time.

"That's a weird way to say I love you" as his lips brushed closer to yours his heart felt like it would explode, he had pained to claim your lips, just once, just to know the taste of a beloved and he was sure he would be more pained to lose you.

As he pleaded that you came to him tomorrow he pressed his lips on yours, sealing the promise he demanded you to make to him. Your heart melted under the soft lights of a thousand stars.

____

As his arms wrapped around you, tears run down his eyes. That was it. You had fought to keep your promise nail and tooth. You had never managed let him down and to see that you were among the tiny amount of survivors lifted his soul to heaven. The touch of your skin, the salty taste of your neck, it all was real, you were indeed alive and safe in his arms. He wouldn't have to go insane over that fact that he would never get to look into your eyes again.

"I will always keep my promises to you." You hitched with tears running down cheeks, the shock in your core still trembling as ever.

"I know" He panted

"Besides, have you seen yourself in action, I wouldn't want you to hunt me down, oh Lord."

I am. In tears. Also I'm sorry (?) for such in depth descriptions of Levi's hands?

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #snk x reader #aot x reader #levi #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #attack on titan #snk #aot #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n #levi ackerman imagine #captain levi #x reader #listen here i am crying #i am not okay #THIS WAS SO CATHARTIC TO WRITE WTF

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neakco · 4 years ago

Text

The Lost Temple ch. 2

Ao3 Ch.1 Ch.3 Masterlist

Marinette doesn't fully trust the American Heroes but knows that she probably needs their help.

Tim doesn’t trust these two teens that are definitely hiding something.

Yet they made camp together anyway.

Ch.2 Sleepless Night

It had taken longer then they would have like to figure out a watch schedule. While they had both agreed to an alliance, neither group trusted the other.

Finally a compromise was made. Each group set their own schedule. Marinette and Adrien agreed to each do half the night. While the Trio took one 2 hour shift each.

Adrien would take the first 3 hours and would be starting his shift with Superboy. Impulse had the 2nd watch which he would share with both of them before she would finish out the night with Red Robin.

Marinette was a little nervous, she knew Superboy had heard Plagg earlier. They weren’t used to others being able to hear as well as her Kitty. She was lucky that her bond with Tikki allowed communication via emotions.

She stared up at the stars, at least this wouldn’t be the first time she had gone without sleep for a mission. She glanced briefly at the tent the American heroes had set up. It looked cramped. She was quite happy with her blanket.

Her and Adrien had tried using tents before but he preferred to sleep up high and she enjoyed the connection to the plants she got on the ground. It always allowed her to feel more rested, even if, like tonight, she didn’t actually sleep.

Adrien came to let her know it was her turn so she rolled up her blanket and went to join Impulse.

The boy never seemed to stop, he constantly dashed back and forth as he talked non-stop about everything.

“Doesn’t that drain your energy?”

He stopped short as if he had forgotten she was there. “No, well yes, but II can quickly get back to civilization for snacks.”

She nodded as the hero began to move around and started talking about his favourite snacks. She had an idea to run past Red Robin once he joined her on watch. She would suggest it to Impulse but she had a gut feeling that would be a bad idea.

Tim woke a little early for his turn and crept towards the trees in order to observe Marinette and Bart.

He was a little surprised that she seemed interested in the one-sided food conversation. At least he had assumed it was one-sided until she chirped in with a question about Bart’s preferences on French pastries. He didn’t expect the girl to become so offended when Bart told her he didn’t like croissants.

Tim decided that it was close enough to his watch and stepped out of the shadows.

Impulse flew into the trees in his surprise while Marinette hadn’t moved. Had he lost his touch? No, she may not have jumped but he noticed she had a hand to her back where it hadn’t been before. He concluded that she had probably reached for a weapon.

“Seriously Rob? I love you but that’s just mean.”

Tim smirked, “Maybe next time you will pay attention.”

“You’re a bat, doesn’t matter how much I pay attention.” Bart grumbled as he waved goodnight to Marinette and headed off to find his sleeping bag.

Tim turned back to Marinette and was shocked by the level of malice being directed at him. “What did I…”

“Don’t you ever do that again.” Her voice, while harsh, was soft and filled with concern. “I could have killed you. If it was Adrien you had startled you wouldn’t be alive.”

Tim swallowed his retort. Normally he would think it hilarious that this tiny enigma thought that she or her delicate looking friend could hurt him, but there was something there. It was the way every sound stilled at her anger, the way his gut yelled at him to run. Putting all this together with their first conversation, he began to wonder if the two teens had been granted power by the gods.

Marinette was taking deep meditative breaths. “You are lucky I analyze before reacting.”

“Sorry. I had figured you had a sixth sense.”

She eyed him, “You were testing a theory?”

“Yes. I like to know what my allies are capable of and it’s not like you two have been very forthcoming.”

It surprised Tim to see her relax at this rather than get angrier.

“The decision to share isn’t really up to me or Adrien. I assume it is similar to your identity, unless what I've heard about Batman is wrong.”

Tim laughed quietly while keeping an eye to their surroundings. “We actually tell people our identities all the time, people just assume we are joking.”

Her eyes widened, “That works?”

“Well it works if the public's image of your two personas are vastly different. People will believe what they want no matter what you tell them.”

He was about to ask if she was thinking of becoming a hero when he noticed her darkening look. Unlike before where it had been anger mixed with concern, this time it was mixed with sadness and pain.

“You okay?”

“People really do believe what they want.” Her eyes turned wistful and she looked up into the trees. “Really shows you who your real friends are.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” How was he supposed to comfort her? Alfred would probably offer her hot chocolate and sweets.

“No, it all happened years ago. I am mostly over it.”

Tim let out a sigh of relief, at her look he tried to smile kindly. “No offense but I was raised by the most emotionally distant people and I really had no idea what to do if you started crying.”

The sudden laughter surprised him. That wasn’t a normal reaction. He frowned as he watched her try to stifle the sound.

“I'm sorry, it’s just, well, welcome to the club.” She started laughing a little bit harder and maybe a bit more broken. “Adrien can tell you some stories. Well I can two, but mine only start a few years back. I don’t have a life's worth like he does.”

“But why is that so funny?” He frowned harder trying to understand if he was the joke.

He jumped and threw a batarang that thankfully missed when Adrien suddenly dropped out of a tree and landed beside him.

“Where we come from it was always better to laugh instead of giving in to emotional distress.” He turned to Marinette, “You okay M'lady?”

“I just,” her giggles increased slightly, “strays, it’s always the strays.” She giggled a bit longer before stopping suddenly and glaring at Adrien, “Why aren’t you asleep?”

Tim could see the blonde visibly gulp as he lied poorly, “bathroom. Going back to sleep now. Bye.” He quickly left back into the trees and took off roughly in the direction of camp based off the rustling.

“You two are very strange.”

“Says the talented human commanding literal super humans.” She snorted. “Oh, I almost forgot. Do you think Impulse could quickly map out the jungle for us?”

“If he can keep himself from tripping over roots and snakes then maybe. Why didn’t you ask him?” Tim was curious. She had spent an hour with Impulse, there had been plenty of time.

“I figured you were the leader and I would have to ask no matter what. Mostly I was worried he wouldn’t be able to but pride would cause him to say yes anyways.”

Tim tried to study her expression but it gave nothing away. “How did you come to that conclusion?”

“Simple, Impulse acts like a younger Adrien.”

Marinette thought back, Chat had been so free. She missed those times. Unfortunately reality had hit them both fairly hard. She doubted if they could ever be that carefree again.

“I would deny your assessment if I could.” Red Robin leaned back against her tree and typed into his arm. She hadn’t realized there was technology integrated into the suit. She was almost jealous.

A holographic map of the jungle was displayed floating above his arm so she leaned forward to gain a better look.

Red Robin pointed to a small area causing a dot to appear “This is our camp.” He gestured to highlight a portion green. “This is the area we checked yesterday. My initial reports showed activity in these areas.” This time the highlighted red, or brown in the areas that overlapped with the searched area.

She hummed in thought, “Add another kilometer to the searched radius. Adrien split off a couple times yesterday.”

She could see his eyes shift to suspicion briefly but he complied anyway

“If you knew that then you never needed Impulse to make a map, you wanted him to find the enemy.”

She nodded but stayed silent and observant. It was kind of nice watching someone else think like she does.

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea if Impulse was capable of stealth. “She watched him remove the searched area from the map in order to zoom in on the rest.

“You have a plan.” She was grinning, she could already tell what he was thinking.

The way he looked at her screamed that he knew that she had already figured it out. She was happily surprised when he decided to continue explaining to her.

“I propose that we split up. My team has trackers to keep track of our own whereabouts and comms to communicate. I think Superboy and Adrien take this route.” A Blue and red line appeared on the map. “While we take this path more to the right.” This time the line was red and black. She knew they were supposed to represent his colours but they worked just as well for her. She bet Adrien would have a laugh.

“I'll have Impulse cover this middle area in between our groups to cover any gaps and act as a runner in case we need anything. Anything to add?”

She bit her lip. These were heroes, she could probably trust them, at least a little. Plus Adrien wasn’t able to sense the temple’s magic. “How good is Superboy's x-ray vision?” Damn it, she thought she had fixed her word blurting problem.

Red Robin seemed surprised by her words, “What? Why?”

She chewed on her lip a bit more before she felt Tikki's reassurance. “What I am about to tell you is secret enough that it could very well get you killed. Are you sure you want to know?”

She watched his face carefully. There was hesitation, doubt, curiosity, and finally that thirst for knowledge that got her into trouble constantly.

He finally shrugged, “Just an average day for me.”

She smiled but dropped her voice into a serious tone. “There is a temple here that was lost underground years ago. No matter what else happens I can not let anyone get the knowledge and treasures it holds.” She remembered some of the things the monks had told her and Adrien without ever actually explaining what the temple was guarding. “If these people find the temple first then best case scenario has them taking over the world.”

Red Robin's voice was low, “And worst case?”

“They destroy the entire universe as we know it.”

Taglist @toodaloo-kangaroo

#maribat #the lost temple #adventure #rin writes

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schrijverr · 4 years ago

Text

Cried Out

When Hizashi accidentally uses his quirk after he gets startled, he retreats back into his shell, afraid to use his voice at all. Luckily Shota is there for him.

On AO3.

Ships: EraserMic

Warnings: self-loathing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Present Mic was loud – Hizashi was loud – that was just a fact.

However, he hadn’t always been loud. As much as he yelled and talked now, there had been a time when Hizashi was scared to whisper, not to mention talk. He had gotten over it before he applied for UA, but his friends had known about it and sometimes he wasn’t in the mood to talk and they respected it.

Neither would mention how those days usually were after he’d lost control of his quirk or had been working intensively with it.

But that hadn’t happened in years. Shota grew up alongside Hizashi, they got better, went professional, even stepping side by side into the teaching position at UA. They knew each other and Shota was so proud of how far his friend, his beloved had come.

Sadly, just because something hadn’t happened in years, didn’t mean it could never come and rear its ugly head again.

It happened on a normal Thursday.

Hizashi had been walking towards the teachers lounge after school, completely unaware that there were still students in the building. The dorm system hadn’t been in place long andno one was fully used to the students being there full-time.

So when the door suddenly swung open and nearly hit him, he didn’t just jump from nearly being hit, but also from the human shape in the hallway. He couldn't help it, it startled him. It startled him so badly in fact that it ripped a scream from his throat.

A quirked up scream.

He could only watched, horrified, as the loud vibrations made it through the hallway, hitting the student who had been standing just a few feet away, head on.

Once the scream had left his mouth completely, he rushed forwards to the student frantically. He was about to ask if the kid was alright when he remembered what his voice had done, so he just quietly checked him over.

It was Bakugo.

Fuck.

He was a strong teen, sure, but still a teen. Not to mention a teen who had recently been kidnapped, so it wouldn’t be strange if was still a bit on edge. For him to be accidentally attacked by a teacher, probably wasn’t the best.

“Present Mic?” he asked confused and why wouldn’t he be confused? Hizashi was supposed to protect him, not attack him, he thought a bit hysterical.

Hizashi didn’t react, just held out a hand to haul him up and giving him concerned eyes. Bakugo let himself be pulled to his feet, still sending Hizashi weird looks as he asked: “Oi, are you okay?”

He replied with a curt nod and a tight smile, before leading him to Recovery Girl, wanting to make sure his attack hadn’t caused permanent damage. He was surprised the kid was still standing much less talking to him after it, honestly.

Recovery Girl raised a brow when they came in, only to frown when Hizashi didn’t say anything and Bakugo had to explain: “I think there’s something wrong with Present Mic.”

At that Hizashi shook his head and gestured to Bakugo that the kid was the one who needed to be checked over, not him.

“What happened?” Recovery Girl asked.

Bakugo had realized Hizashi wasn’t about to talk, so he answered: “I accidentally scared him when I left the classroom, he screamed, then got all weird and quiet.”

It dawned on Recovery Girl what must have happened and she asked: “When he screamed, did he use his quirk? Can you hear okay?”

“I can hear fine,” Bakugo frowned.

Hizashi slumped in relief, he was glad Bakugo was fine even if he didn’t understand how. Recovery Girl also seemed surprised but glad to hear it. She still wanted to make sure, so she said: “That’s good to hear. I still want to check, just in case, so take a seat. Yamada, go get Aizawa, it’s his student,” and your comfort, she didn’t add out loud.

Quickly nodding, Hizashi left, practically running to get Shota.

He found him taking a nap on the couch in the teachers lounge and he quickly shook him awake, a fond smile gracing his face when he blinked slowly. That smile fell away, when Shota asked: “Wha? Hizashi?”

Shota saw Hizashi’s expression and sat up, frowning: “What happened? Is everyone okay?”

Hizashi shrugged helplessly. Recovery Girl had said Bakugo was alright, but she still wanted to check and she had send for Shota, so maybe it wasn’t okay and it would be his fault.

“Hizashi?” Shota asked again.

He pointed at the door and tugged at Shota’s hand, feeling even more bad and guilty when worry appeared in those beautiful black eyes. But he couldn't talk, he couldn't risk hurting Shota or anyone else for that matter.

“Lead the way,” Shota told him, leaving his sleeping bag behind. If it rendered his husband speechless then it must be bad, fuck.

The feeling of dread creeped up even more on Shota when Hizashi took him to Recovery Girl’s office and gestured for him to go inside. He frowned and asked him: “You’re not coming with me?”

Hizashi shook his head, he wasn’t about to go into a room with more people that he could hurt or hurt again. He hated that he didn’t have anything to write with on him and that he’d never told Shota about it.

Sure the other knew, but he hadn’t said that he used to carry around a notebook and pen everywhere just in case. He was regretting that now, but it had seemed logical at the time.

As an awkward teen he hadn’t wanted the cool boy in his class to know he had so little control as a child and by the time it would be something he mentioned, it was no longer truly relevant and Hizashi had been glad to toss it into oblivion.

Until now.

Now he cursed himself as he paced up and down the hall while Shota went in to check on Bakugo and hear what Hizashi had done.

After a few nerve wrecking minutes Bakugo came out of the office, looking at his stressed out teacher and greeting him: “Hello, Present Mic.”

Hizashi smiled at him, but didn’t react. Bakugo rolled his eyes and looked away, before he put his hands in his pockets and scowled: “The old lady told me to tell you I’m fine and to stop worrying. Don’t be weird tomorrow.”

Then the teen walked off and Hizashi watched him go. He was glad the kid was fine, but he hated how he couldn't even comfort him or tell him he was fine. He also hated that he was terrified that he had to be in front of the class tomorrow.

How could he stand there and talk, knowing that a misstep could incapacitate the new generation of heroes? How would the school explain that to their parents? Or the press?

He hadn’t realized how focused he was on panicking until a hand on his shoulder startled him. He gasped then quickly slapped his hands before his mouth before any sound could come out.

“Already thought that was the problem,” Shota sighed.

Hizashi tried to swallow away the tears that built up when he heard his husband sound- well, he sounded disappointed or maybe more sad. At least negative and Hizashi had put that tone there in his nice gruff voice.

“Recovery Girl said you lost control,” Shota said and Hizashi wished he would forget, “But Bakugo is fine. With his explosive quirk, he has a natural protection against sounds and you didn’t use your quirk at full volume. He’s fine.”

No, he isn’t fine, he got lucky. Any other student and Hizashi would have been responsible for a lifelong injury.

“Can you talk to me, Hizashi?” Shota asked, voice soft and careful.

Hizashi shook his head.

“You’re too strung up right now, lets go to home and get you some tea,” Shota suggested, taking Hizashi’s hand and intertwining their fingers.

The contact was a balm on his worries and Hizashi held on like it was a lifeline as Shota lead them to the teachers dorms that had been instated along with the dorms for the students.

In their apartment, he sat Hizashi down on the couch and went to make tea while Hizashi stared at the table and tried to fight off the uneasy feeling coming from all sides.

Why did he get his license if he didn’t even have control?

How could he justify being a teacher when he had done that?

What would happen now?

He should stop being a teacher. He was dangerous.

“Hey, no attacking my husband,” Shota broke him out his thoughts as he held out a cup of tea.

Hizashi gladly took it and sipped, trying not to meet the eyes Shota was attempting to interlock. He knew his behavior wasn’t helping, but he was steeping guilt and fine to wallow in the feeling and not interact with anyone until he felt safe to do so.

“Can you look at me, dear?” Shota asked, petname perking Hizashi’s attention.

Cautiously Hizashi did, preparing to see disappointment and anger, despite the gentle voice. Instead he found a soft look and floating hair as Shota erased his quirk: “Talk to me, please.”

Relief flooded through Hizashi’s, he couldn't believehe hadn’t thought of that, and the tears that had been building slipped out of his eyes along with loud sobs. Shota rubbed his shoulder, softly telling him when he blinked so that Hizashi could hold the sob for a second.

When all the tears he had in him were spilled, he collapsed against Shota, who wrapped his arms around him and kissed his forehead.

“Want to tell me why this set you off? I know you had your quiet days, but I haven’t seen you cry about them like this since-” Shota cut himself off, but both knew what, or whom he had been referring to.

“I’m dangerous,” Hizashi whispered.

“You? Dangerous?” Shota sounded genuinely surprised, “Never. You’re the most caring and lovable guy I know. You’re the furthest from dangerous, Hizashi.”

“I attacked a student who hasjust been kidnapped, Shota,” Hizashi was trying to mix quiet and forceful, “I don’t have control. If it was anyone else, they would be permanently deaf. I- I shouldn’t be near people.”

“I would be upset with you if you weren’t near me,” Shota confessed.

“But you can erase my quirk, you can incapacitate me,” Hizashi countered, “The students can’t do that, they’re vul-”

Hizashi cut himself off when he saw Shota’s hair come down and he glared at his husband.

“Sorry, had to blink,” Shota apologized, not sounding that sorry for cutting of the self-loathing rant,“And I’m not scared of you. You aren’t dangerous, Hizashi, you’re tired. We all are. The world is different and we’re all working overtime. It was an accident.”

It was clear he was waiting for Hizashi to respond, but Hizashi wasn’t saying anything with his quirk still there.

Shota sighed when he realized and erased Hizashi’s quirk.

“I don’t care if it was an accident,” Hizashi frowned, “It was dangerous and I could have hurt someone. I’m no hero if my slip ups because I’m tired cause harm. UA is dealing with enough backlash as it is, we can’t afford my slip ups to createmore distrust. I’m resigning. I shouldn’t be allowed to use my quirk in pub-”

Again he cut himself off, because Shota stopped erasing his quirk. He shot him a glare that he hoped conveyed: you did that on purpose.

It did.

“Yeah, fuck that, I’m not sitting here and listening to you spouting bullshit, Hizashi. UA needs you, now more than ever. You’re a great and trustworthy asset and we already don’t have enough of that as it stands. We can’t loose you here, the students can’t loose you here.”

Hizashi rolled his eyes, but he was a bit touched, though not enough to be convinced.

Shota noticed and went on: “And what will you do when you resign? Go back to our apartment in the city? Not see me ever? Or come back to the dorms and be a ‘risk’ anyways? I don’t know if I can do that, Hizashi. I don’t know I would survive without you here.”

That hit home for Hizashi. Shota always tried to be independent and uncaring, but Hizashi knew better, of course he did. He had been there for all Shota’s lows. It was just rather unique for him to admit that he needed help from time to time.

But he had, he had admitted it. For him.Hizashi had been so wrapped up in himself, he hadn’t even thought about Shota.

Guilt bubbled up again and silent tears fell out of his eyes.

Shota wrapped him up in his arms again and shushed him soothingly. Hizashi wanted to tell him it should be the other way around. He should be comforting Shota, but it was hard to do that right now and his husband’s muscular chest felt safe.

“Please don’t go?” Shota asked, voice breaking.

Hizashi shook his head adamantly and held on tighter to Shota to show he wasn’t going anywhere. When Shota informed him he was erasing his quirk, he quickly said: “Never. I’m not going, darling. I’m right here, sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, just stay, it’s going to be okay,” Shota said, “Just take tomorrow off, rest. You need it. I’m sure Nezu would understand.”

He nodded into Shota’s chest and held on. He wasn’t ready to talk yet, wasn’t ready to be loud, but Shota had always understood that. He would be safe here, until he was ready to face the world with a smile and a yell.

#RR writing #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #erasermic #yamada hizashi #present mic #aizawa shouta #eraser head #eraser head x present mic #yamada hizashi x aizwa shouta #aizawa shota #recovery girl #bakugo katsuki #tw: self esteem issues #tw: self deprecation

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burning-clutch · 4 years ago

Text

Shielded From The Truth

Cross posted on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30441042 -.-.-.-.- Warnings: Mild wounds. Number two in the phic phight! When his parents put a shield up around Casper high to keep the ghosts out, and it means that Danny’s day hardly goes to plan. And he was so close to being on time for once too…. PHIC PHIGHT 2021 For team ghost! -.-.-.-.-.- Prompt by: Silverwing013 Danny's parents have kindly offered to set up a ghost shield generator for Casper High. Hijinks ensue as Danny attempts to handle the situation.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Danny groaned as he only half listened to his parents rattle off whatever ghost nonsense they were going on about as he ate his breakfast. A bowl of dry cereal because the milk was contaminated and he really didn’t want to chance it giving him more than a stomach ache. This had become the norm this week it seemed as his parents seemed invested more than usual into the ghost shields that they had been working on and improving.

Why only shields? They would be installing one in the school soon… but beyond that? He wasn’t sure. They probably told him, sure, but being a teenager and one that had parents that hated half of him, had the effect of making him only lightly listen to the weapons and things that were meant to fully kill him off. That and at least the ghost shields weren’t usually a hindrance to him, in fact, they had proven themselves useful on a few occasions.

Plus he had the added advantage of being able to simply return to his human form and slip through the shield with little issue. Given his parents had no knowledge of half ghosts existing, at least he hoped not, they shouldn��t be designing a ghost and human shield. After all, that would defeat the purpose, right? It wasn’t as if Amity really had any human threats anymore.

Well, regardless of the eccentricities of his parents he could at least take some comfort in the fact that Skulker couldn’t simply attack the school to get to him any longer.

Small mercies he supposed.

Danny blinked as his father said something to him before slapping him on his back causing the teen to practically choke on his cereal from the force of the smack. “Isn’t that just great Dann-o?” the large man exclaimed happily before looking at his son expectantly. Oh great, he wanted him to ask something? Great.

“S-Sure” Danny choked out as he flailed, grabbing in front of him for the orange juice he had nabbed from the fridge, it thankfully hadn’t been in there long enough to start glowing… yet…

He shook his head as he finally got his breath back without inhaling dry cereal pieces into his lungs. When he was sure he wasn’t going to sound like some dollar store squeaky toy he tried to ask his parents a question, always a dreadful time if he were honest, but hey, he would usually be late for school anyway.

“So this will go around the whole school?” Danny tried weakly.

“Yep! And the best part is it’ll sense where there's an evil ectoplasmic entity nearby and spring up instantly! We made sure there won’t be a ghost within Twenty feet of the school before that puppy jumps up to the rescue! Like a big Fenton airbag!” Jack exclaimed all too enthusiastically for what the current time in the AM should allow a normal person to exhume.

Danny hummed noncommittally and sent a glance of ‘help me’ to his sister, who, in turn, rolled her eyes at her little brother. “And the shield even uses the ghost’s power to run the shield right?” Jazz asked side eyeing her father from her own spot not wanting to fully engage in the conversation they were having.

“Oh, yea! That’s the best part!” Jack practically cheered out.

“And the stronger the evil skum is the faster the shield will react and sooner it will be picked up. It will only go off on a level three or higher.” Maddie explained with a pleasant smile as she sips at her coffee.

“And we got it all finished last night to be ready for you kids today” Jack added happily.

“Hooray, more fun on a Monday” Danny sighed out into his last bites of cereal. Jazz snorted but didn’t comment, though Danny blew her a childish raspberry.

Jack continued to go on about the more intricate details of the shield they had put up though only one thing really caught his attention in the spiel, “-And Vladdie helped with the funding to outfit the school! Even helped us get the materials we needed to make such a large shield!”

“Ah, there it is…” Danny groaned letting his head fall forward onto the table in instant defeat.

“Danny! I really wish you would learn not to stay up so late playing video games! Look at you! If I get another call from one of your teachers about you sleeping in class-” Maddie started only for Danny to cut her off jumping to his feet.

“Yep! Thanks for that, mom! Look at the time! Love you bye!” Danny prattled off quick as could be before grabbing his book bag by his feet and bolting like a scared rabbit. After all, if his mother never finished that sentence when he inevitably fell asleep he couldn’t be grounded… she never officially gave him the last warning…

That’ll work, right?

It wasn’t long when he was out of the house that he was at his usual waiting spot for Sam and Tucker. Unsurprisingly, Sam got there first though they didn't have to wait long for Tucker to lumber forward, half asleep to his friends, and together they made their way towards the school as a unit.

Things seemed well enough until he got onto the stairs leading up to the main doors. That was when all hell broke loose. A deep alarm sounded before his father’s voice rang out from the speakers, in his over the top cheery way that only Jack Fenton knew how to pull off.

“Attention kids! Guess there’s an evil spook nearby so we’re deploying the shield! This ghost protection was brought to you by Fenton-works and sponsored by your mayor!”

Danny frowned. “My ghost sense didn’t go off…” He mentioned quietly to his friends.

“Maybe the shield sensors are more sensitive than you are?” Tucker asked with a frown.

“Since when?” Sam argued incredulously.

“Well who or whatever it is, it isn’t bothering me right now and no one’s screaming, no one’s panicking, so it can wait. I’m actually going to be on time for once!” Danny says waving the notion off.

He continues his trek up the stairs and towards the doors of the school, though when he reaches the threshold of the shield he finds himself having to really push hard against the thing. It was like hitting a wall of foam or Jell-O. He could push through if he pressed hard enough but it was not pleasant or as easy as going through the air.

Once through the initial shield wall, he blinked slowly feeling sluggish and as though all his limbs were moving through water. He even sort of felt like he was having to ‘swim’ as he walked like he was both heavier and lighter than he should be, but unable to find that buoyancy happy middle ground.

“Dude…” Tucker said smartly as he frowned at his friend’s almost slow motion, yet stop motion like movements. It was eerie, to say the least, not to mention the more pressing issue that he noticed right off the hop, “Your eyes are shining, man. And your, um… Neck...”

Sam, ever prepared for whatever bull their lives seem to throw their way, slipped her bag around to her front and offered Danny a pair of sunglasses, which the halfa put on promptly, along with the spider webbed patterned black and silver scarf. “I mean, it’s better,” Sam argued, not even giving Tucker's look of disapproval her full attention.

“They’re spider glasses.” The boy states with a shake of his head. “Not really digging the whole-” Tucker waved his arm about Danny’s head in little circles, “-pseudo goth thing” he finished finally. Though he had to admit it was at least marginally better than seeing his friend’s glowing eyes and the electric scars showing up on his neck and disappearing under his shirt collar.

“Better?” Danny asked out sluggish, his voice almost sounding like it was being drawn out on a tape deck that was starting to lack battery power and not playing at quite the proper speed making the pitch and timing slower and lower.

Sam and Tucker shared a look before offering a thumbs up to their friend, both deciding it better not to address… whatever that was… The look they shared between one another spoke of their mutual hope that this would perhaps be one of those problems that simply go away on its own.

Ignoring the problems they have usually makes it go away… Yeah, that always works out.

Danny makes a grab for the door to pull it open again, having that weird slow stop motion effect, like he was flickering between blinks rather than making a smooth motion forward. “Ehm, maybe don’t move around too much man… it’s um… creeping me out.” Tucker offers helpfully.

“Huh?” it took Danny a minute to process, as while he looked slow to them they seemed to be hyped up on caffeine to him… “Why are you talking so fast?” He wondered, his head almost appearing to glitch into a tilted and confused look.

“I think the ghost shield is making you go all slow motion. Just stop talking.” Sam says forcefully before letting out a shudder of her own.

Sam and Tucker share a glance before they each grab onto one of Danny’s arms and half drag him off to his locker. Despite his friends’ efforts he still got many looks shot his way, and a couple of people started whispering to one another as he passed by them.

“How is this going to work if I’m already weirding everyone out?” Danny asked, voice still sounding like a slowed record as he blinked sluggishly and his head jerked almost unsteadily from side to side. From his perspective, everyone was speeding along and talking at 1.5 times the normal speed.

“Maybe I should look for the ghost that triggered this, maybe Tuck, can you look into this mess?” Danny asked after a moment of trying to figure out what was being said around him through the noise of the hall.

“Yeah that might be best…” Sam responded shifting from leg to leg as she locks eyes with a basketball jock who was staring at their group incredulously.

“I got you, man, I’ll change everything to present and, block any ‘call home’ recommendations.” Tucker pipped up already pulling out his PDA to set that up preemptively.

Danny nodded and let out a hum before glitching his way out the nearest exit and out of the shield’s bounds. Once he slipped back out through the barrier, strangely enough, a harder feat than it was getting in, but that wasn’t a problem he wanted to focus on, he already blamed Vlad so he would simply continue to do so until the fruitloop showed himself.

As soon as he was through the green line of the shield Danny practically fell forward in relief. That stifling feeling now gone from his core and bones making his movements fluid and normal, well as normal as a clumsy half ghost could be anyhow…

It was a moot point and not one Danny wanted to think on too long. He gave a quick “thanks” to his friends, before diving between the dumpster and the school’s bricks, transforming into his ghostly alter ego and taking off into the sky. He would do a few laps around the school and city as he looks for whatever ghost set off the shield.

-BREAK-

It wasn’t until lunchtime Danny returned looking much more windswept and all around more miserable. He entered the courtyard through the side joining his friends out on the picnic table they had claimed. He made it over to them, flopped down on the bench next to tucker with a groan before his head smacked into the table before him.

“You find them?” Tucker asked around whatever horrid monstrosity of a sandwich he was eating, spewing bits of half chewed bred at Danny’s head.

“No” Came the muffled reply, filled with tired disdain.

“No ghost sense?” Sam wandered, flicking the bits of bread from Danny’s raven hair and back towards Tucker.

“No”

“Huh… You think it was you who set off the shield?” Sam wondered with a thoughtful frown.

“When I went into the back end of the generator though it wasn’t supposed to go off for anything that low, Danny in human form is like a two at best,” Tucker argued spinning his PDA around to show what he’d found when he hacked into the motherboard of the Fenton’s latest device.

Danny groaned. He supposed had he listened to his parents he could have been more prepared for whatever lunacy his parents’ decided to toss his way but alas, his short attention span and teenage rebellion and lack of caring got the best of him yet again.

Joyous of joys.

He tuned out his friend’s back and forthing for a bit, wondering if he could get away with smashing the device as Phantom when Tucker had his a-ha moment of discovery. Danny turned his head and raised a brow at his friend who was furiously typing away at his device.

“You were right about Vlad, Sam”

“Naturally,” She agreed.

“Well, he had an over right line here specifically set for Phantom’s ecto- signature,” the boy states running his finger along the line of code he’d found in the program.

Danny’s mood instantly brightened at that. “So then we just get rid of that bit right? And BAM everything’s fine?” He asked. “Man, what happened to me? Why do I want to get into the school again?”

“To keep up the illusion of normalcy on this mortal plane.” Sam supplied stabbing at her salad a little more forcefully than she probably needed to.

“Eh, yeah, I suppose.” Danny agreed with a lacklustre shrug.

“There, that should do it” Tucker spoke, interrupting whatever tangent Sam was getting ready to spew off about how normalcy was only an illusion created by corporations or some other such thing.

“And just in time The bell just rang,” Danny says with a small grin clasping a firm hand onto his friend’s shoulder. “Nice one Tucker!” he cheered as the trio made their way over to the doors that would lead them back into the cafeteria.

Unfortunately, as soon as Danny’s hand hit the door handle the shield once again sprung to life, though this time, instead of simply having a hard time passing through the shield, he was thrown back across the field earning a cry from several students who were following the trio.

“Grapes of wrath Mister Fenton!” Lancer, (of course it was Lancer) shouted out in worry, his shout even carrying over the prerecorded message containing his father’s voice. Lancer half jogged half waddled over to Danny who blinked up blearily to his teacher, eyes flashing green for the briefest of seconds before draining back to blue.

“Leave it to Fen-turd to get himself possessed.” Dash snorted from behind the pot bellied teacher earning a few nervous glances between the small crowd of gathering students. The mutterings of the students didn’t take long to start up after that.

“I’m not possessed,” Danny argued, though, it was rather hard to make said argument when the palm of his hand was burned and leaking ectoplasm from where he had touched the door.

“Course he’s not possessed! He’s a ghost himself!” Wes shouted pointing an accusatory finger at the youngest Fenton.

Danny glared. “Not the time Westly.” He muttered under his breath as he was hauled to his feet by his friends. He tried to brush himself off only to end up smearing the ectoplasm from his hand onto his jeans, leaving a luminescent streak across his thigh.

Seeing his chance the ginger jock was all too eager to point it out. “See look! He’s bleeding ectoplasm!”

“No, I’m not! It’s from the shield! it sputtered out at me.” Danny tried to protest, though even in his own ears it sounded like a weak argument.

“Really?” Wes argued and marched over to the shimmering shield. The teen waved his arms about freely in the shield’s range hopping back and forth pointedly across the line of the barrier before showing his hands and clothes were completely clean of any glowing goo. “See! Ghost!” he accused again after he did a little pirouette to show his lack of ectoplasm.

“Yeah? Well, it sputtered at Danny only ‘cuz it turned on with him in the threshold.” Sam tried to argue back glaring at the ginger, venom in her gaze.

“Well then, why don’t you just walk through the shield Fen-toad?” Dash said with a smarmy grin, ever eager to get his own jabs in and seemingly not wanting to be outshined by the ginger conspiracy theorist’s bullying of his favourite punching bag.

“Fine” He spat back bitterly and marched up to the shield with a huff.

Sam and Tucker exchange a glance with one another as Danny presses his hand into the shield again. Thankfully this time there wasn’t anything that blows him back but he also really had to try and push through the shield.

Danny could see out of the corner of his eye Wes’s smug grin as he grunts and does his best to push through the shield. His persistence is rewarded and he falls to the ground on the other side jumping up and giving a quick ‘HA!’ as he faces the small gathering crowd of students shifting uncomfortably just beyond the shield.

Sam had a look of exasperation and she looked like she was trying to restrain herself from face palming. Tucker on the other hand had no such restraint. He was almost over eager to bury his face into his hands.

From Danny’s perspective, he simply smacked into the ground and stood back up, but from the other students’ perspectives, Danny fell into the shield but instantly slowed down, looking as though he were falling with the moon’s gravity rather than the earthly speed everyone was used to. It also didn’t really look to them like he had hit the ground, instead glitching his body back into an upright position before cheering in that low slow motion state as he had earlier.

And if that wasn’t damning enough his eyes were glowing a lovely shade of ectoplasmic green.

Wes smirked, seemingly very smug and content with himself and this development. “See told you all he was a ghost!”

“T-that’s enough Mister Weston… Right…” LAncer muttered to himself a few moments watching as Danny seemed to glitch about as he cheered before seemingly realizing something was wrong. “I think there was a procedure to depossess a student…I bet the teachers in Bridgestone don’t have to exercise their students in this manner…” He complains. Sure they had gym class and he would appreciate the pun and irony if he wasn’t so tired.

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” he muttered, ignoring the look of panic that spread across Danny’s face.

It took some doing, a lot of flailing limbs and pressing himself against the damn shield, but Danny soon was through back out and free. His eyes still glowed brightly as he stared at his classmates looking very much like a deer in the headlights. Eyeshine and all might he add.

A few of the students were snickering, because only in Amity park could one get possessed by a ghost and have it come across as though someone had merely said something embarrassing or misheard an instruction and was now staring blankly ahead.

“Er….” Danny stared at his classmates half panicked before simply vanishing from view.

“Moby Dick!” Lancer exclaimed, almost dropping the book he was thumbing through from the Fenton parents. Sure it was a ghost, and could potentially be dangerous, but it wasn’t attacking so there wasn’t really anyone panicking.

Instead, the teacher simply felt tired. “Right, I’ll call the Fentons and let them deal with this, Everyone back inside I do believe the lunch bell rang already!” the teacher called out shooing the students into dispersing.

Danny stood there invisibly and holding strong as he internally groaned. At least they thought he was possessed, that could be easily explained away but he was not looking forward to trying to explain it to his parents…

Still maybe if he gets ahead of this…

It was with that thought in mind that he bolted away into the treeline beside the school, transformed and headed off to his home landing in his bedroom only a few minutes later. He went human, back intangible and invisible came out the door, made sure the coast was clear before speeding his way down into the basement.

He just made it down the stairs startling his mother and father who blinked at him curiously, when the phone rang cutting off his mother’s “Honey? What are you doing home so soon?”

“It’s the school calling Mads,” Jack says, sounding disappointed as the large man sent a look of disapproval to his boy.

“Wait!” Danny jumped forward answering the phone and instantly hanging it up.

“Daniel!” His mother exclaimed abashedly.

“I wanna explain first! Do you know how all your stuff goes off on me? Well, the shield at school started doing that and they think I’m possessed! I’m not, it's just the… ya know…” Danny rambled off hurriedly hoping against hope that his parents wouldn’t try to send him to decontamination … again… (Thanks to his ghost half, it burned in places he didn’t ever want to burn)

“You’re possessed Dann-o?!” Jack exclaimed instantly pulling a Fenton gun from somewhere on his person and brandishing it towards his son.

Danny threw his hands up and waved them placatingly at his father. “NO! Just the normal stuff! The contamination from the portal accident set it off. I got too close to the sensor!” He says quickly ignoring how his parents seem to flinch slightly.

His parents shared a look before his father seemed to deflate, seemingly upset at the fact his son wasn’t possessed. “I thought we fixed that... “ Jack says with a frown. “But, we can’t let the school know we may have messed it up! I know we’ll just run the tests again and fix it in the night!”

“Yeah, that would be- Wait what?” Danny blinks. Why couldn’t they just go down and fix it normally? Of course, his parents had to be weird about this too. “Thanks… Is there anything you need from me to help?”

And with those words said he almost instantly regretted it. “Well… We would really like to know why your ecto signature lines up perfectly with Phantom’s but perhaps that can wait.” Maddie offered with a small amused smile.

Danny sputtered at that, “Wh-What?”

“We set up a monitoring system so we can tell which ghosts most frequent the school… Phantom was the one that triggered the shield twice today. There actually wasn’t anything else that did,” Maddie explained with a deepening frown.

“You sure you’re not possessed, son?” Jack asked again this time sounding almost defeated in how, well, normal a volume he asked that. The hidden meaning was all too obvious especially after he mentioned his accident…

They thought he was dead! The portal killed him! And as the growing pit of dread grew into Danny’s stomach he couldn’t help but feel awful knowing they were correct in that assumption, well at least half right anyhow.

“Yeah… I’m… I’m me…” Danny managed out his voice cracking

“O-oh hun....” Maddie sniffed.

“But it’s not I… I’m me, I promise and I’m not all dead. I still have a heartbeat and everything!” Danny argued or rather tried to as his mother was quick to kneel before him taking his face in her hands as tears bubbled down her chin.

“Mom really I’m like … half at most. More human with a side of ghostly abilities ya know?”

“Oh, it’s okay Dann-o… You're still my son, I know ya are. It’s been almost a year since that accident and you’re mostly still you.” Jack said. “Just worse grades and more hormones and-”

“Thanks, guys really,” Danny sighed in relief both at dodging the potentially awkward birds and ghostly bees talk as well as the tepid acceptance he was getting. Awkward though it may be it was still acceptance nonetheless. He was happy for it just the same.

“Maybe while we work on fixing up the shield to ignore Phantom’s signature you can tell us about some things?” Maddie asked sniffling again as she looked over her son’s face trying her best to hold herself together and not outright bawl at the thought she had killed her youngest child.

“Y-yeah… I’ve been wanting to tell you about this for a while now but, well, ya know…” Danny offered uselessly.

“I think it’s us who should apologize for that, son but maybe we can just all go get some triple chocolate fudge milkshakes and go deal with that shield after dinner?” Jack offered with a smile, ever the one to break up tension.

“Yeah, yeah… that sounds good.” Danny agreed. Well, it wasn't how he was expecting this to go, but he was kinda glad it ended up like this. Maybe now they could repair their strained relationship.

As Maddie ruffled up Danny’s hair the teen offered her his first genuine smile in almost a year.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Total words: 4245 Complete

#phic phight 2021 #Phic Phight #Danny Phantom #danny fenton #lancer #ghost shields are a problem #kinfa fluffy #danny is so done

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