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phantomphangphucker · 1 month ago

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Phic Phight - One Sip And You’ll Understand, The Power That’s In Your Hands

For: @datawyrms @haloburns @shadowfaerieammy

So Danny has to deal with Pariah, right? And obliviously anyone would assume, especially the other ghosts, that Danny’s combative ass would ‘deal with’ Pariah by trying to beat his ass. Fair. Except here’s the thing, Pariah doesn’t know what coffee is, and Danny takes far more issues with that than the guy being a violent dick. Meaning, Pariah’s gonna learn that fools are worth their weight in liquid gold (coffee).

:Chap. 1:

Maybe You And I Can Make A Deal

“It was many years ago. Before you. Before me. Before most of us. His name was Pariah Dark. And he ruled the Ghost Zone. He was a ghost of such power and magnitude, only he could control the entities contained within the Crown of Fire and the Ring of Rage. When wearing both, he could do anything. Until a group of powerful ancient ghosts banded together in a last-ditch effort to defeat the King. By locking him within the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep”, Skulker frowning deeply, “or so we thought”.

Ember grimacing, “he’s only been freed for a day and he's already destroyed our homes”.

Danny blinks, “alright, okay, so this guy is a big bad”, putting his hands together and gesturing at nothing, “but like, has anyone ever tried, say, just talking to the guy?”.

Ember goes a little bug-eyed at him, “are you insane? That tyrant has spent eons terrorizing and mass slaughtering ghosts! Why would anyone sit him down for a ‘nice friendly chitchat’, dipstick”.

The Box Ghost nodding to himself strongly, “no wonder you do not FEAR my AWESOME MIGHT, for you must FEAR nothing to suggest THAT!”. An animal ghost lobs a gooey… something at the shouty ghost.

Danny humming, “so that’s a no then?”.

Skulker throwing up his hands, “I give up”; Ember giving him a comforting arm pat while everyone just shakes their heads disappointedly at Danny.

Danny smacking a fist in his palm, “I’m going to take him to get coffee, and he will vent caffeinated”; everyone was nicer over coffee right? Right. Who wouldn’t be? Danny nodding to himself, “and if it turns out he doesn’t like coffee then that’ll confirm that he is, indeed, a truly deplorable monster”.

The LunchLady crosses her arms at him, “I WILL be restocking your fridge with pound cakes again to flush out all that caffeine. Your diet is UNACCEPTABLE”, snarling a little, “you SHALL NOT taint our KING with your ways!”.

Skulker pointing at her aggressively, “oh let him! Who cares if that psycho has some kind of caffeine overdose! We want him gone or comatose anyways!”.

Kitty and Johnny share a look before simply giving Danny thumbs up. Kitty smirking, “go get ‘em tiger”.

Danny sputtering and stepping back a bit, that is so not where he was going with this! “This is not a freaking date!”.

Johnny snorting, rolling his eyes, “I’d hope not, kid. Pariah’s old as ass”.

“Good!”.

“Good”.

Danny huffing and crossing his arms with a pout, “soooo, who’s gonna help me?”. Damn near everyone just starts throwing things at him till they successfully get him to turn tail and flee from the onslaught.

Okay. So. Danny’s on his own with this. That’s fine. It’s cool. He’s got this. Everyone else thinks he’s being stupid and reckless but what does he care? It’s a good idea! Sure the ‘just talk it out’ plan has never worked, or at least never worked the first time, but still! All he has to do now is find a way to set this shit up! Should be easy enough.

You know…

If you ignore the fact that they’re trapped in another dimension and the closest he’s gotten to this ghost king outside of a fight is a giant floating face in the sky ominously shouting about their doom.

But hey! There’s that FrightKnight guy and that dude totally clearly serves this Pariah guy; be kinda weird if that wasn’t the case. But there’s the other issue, he doesn’t really know how to get in touch with tall, dark, and fearsome either. Sure Danny’s managed to summon him before, but that was back when the guy was sealed away and when Danny had direct access to the guys -very badass- sword.

Maybe Sam would know? Sure she’s likely helping with the whole ‘everyone in town is terrified’ thing but eh. Pacing in a little circle and watching the dome covered sky, “Sam, hey, so, look-”.

“Oh zone, what dumb idea did you come up with now? It better not be some self sacrificial bullshit”.

Danny chuckles very awkwardly, that was kinda plan b, “nooooo”, clearing his throat, he can absolutely feel her judgement through the phone and it’s absolutely making him sweat a little, “so you know how we summoned that Fear Knight guy-”.

“You mean how you summon the FrightKnight”.

“Haha yeah. So, think we, or I, could do that again?”.

“Danny doesn’t that guy serve this ghost king guy directly? How does that help anything!”, Sam sighing, “but I’ll check my books, I’m pretty sure there’s some kind of Halloween chant that summons him”.

“Cool cool”.

“Daaannnnyyy…. Why do you want to summon him?”

Danny rubs his neck, you know what? This plan was sounding a little dumb now. Oof. But in it to win it, am I right? “Because he serves this Pariah guy I thought that, maybe, I could get him to deliver a message to his royal highness, so I could invite the guy out for coffee and maybe actually talk things over for once”, rolling his wrist around, “you know, win with wit and words instead of fisticuffs?”

“Congrats, that’s stupid. But… I’m almost positive if anyone or even everyone does try to actually fight him it’ll just end in pain. And the only kind of a pain I like, is the kind that comes from tattooing”.

“Awww, you don’t like getting bodily thrown into walls?”.

“No, Danny, that’s your thing and- hey! Found it! I was right too!”.

Danny fist pumps a little, “nice”, okay okay so Danny is not totally boned here! He’s got something to work with! It’s not much and it’s not great, pretty awful actually, but it’s a thing!

“At least it’s you doing this and not Tucker, because you gotta sing-”. Danny absolutely cringes over that. “-so sing this in a spooky operatic tone, it doesn’t say anyone needs to hear you so count your lucky stars there. Here you go-”. Danny nods along, noting the whole thing dutifully.

Sam says he doesn’t need an audience, but well, Danny never been one to half ass shit and he’s a dramatic mother fucker. Belting out a song from atop the Observatory sounds like a kick ass idea. Besides! Fear guy seems really dramatic and might enjoy said dramatics enough to humour Danny and his shit long enough for Danny to avoid getting stabbed.

So Danny floats his sorry self on top of the Observatory, looking out and nodding to himself in satisfaction. Taking a deep breath and…

“O shadows of the darkened night!

Whisper through the blackened, curs-ed light!

From depths unknown, from lands untamed!

I call thee forth, the fiendish, the dire, the flamed!

From the void! from the void!

Come, O fear, from that deathly abyss!

O unutterable terror, dread minacious!

With trembling breath, thy come pugnacious!

With eyes unseen and hands that freeze!

I summon thee, from haunted seas!

Greet this soul, embrace this mind!

Whisk away the peace any dare find!

Through endless night, through choking flame!

Fear, I speak thee by thy name!

FrightKnight! Dark’s Herold and Fears Blight!

Fear, arise! Fear, descend!

Wrap thy steeds wings around the end!

Shadowed whispers, shrouded skies!

Manifest before mine eyes!

Breathe upon the hope that break!

With every thunder clap thou make!

O ethereal form, O endless night!

Come forth and weave the endless fright!

Thy presence calls the heart to cease!

Unveil thyself, O ancient beast!

With trembling hands and hollow breath!

FrightKnight I summon thee, the herald of death!

From the dark, I call thee near!

Come to me, O personified Fear!

Twist all thought, break all will!

Summon the terror, render hope nil!

Danny’s chest heaves, leaving only the echoes of a whispering ghostly choir, “fear… fear… fear…”.

Whelp…

That was fucking ominous.

And a few seconds later, with wind whipping wildly. “TO A RIGHT OF FEAR, I BEND MINE EAR! ATOP A FRIGHTFUL STEER, NIGHTMARE’S HOOVES DRAW NEAR! THOU HATH SUMMONED NOT CHEER, HORRIFYING WAILS SHALL ONLY HEAR!”. And with a thunderous lightning crack and thunder boom, The FrightKnight lands his steed atop the observatory, and Danny thinks he might have done cocked up just a weep bit.

Danny blinks owlishly and gives a little slightly awkward wave.

The FrughtKnight furrows his eyebrows, “you again, foolish half child”, dismounting off of Nightmare in a single swift and graceful motion, “your… call was respectable this time”, crossing his arms down at Danny, “so speak your peace, though thou must know I shall not dein to request his lordship cease his mighty reign”.

Danny rubs his neck, whelp, what the heck why not? “Honestly man? I just wanted to see if the guy would be down to get coffee and, I don’t know, maybe explain why he’s even doing this? Cause yeah, I’m lost and coffee slaps”, shrugging, “and if I’m gonna bend the knee to his power, or whatever, might as well do it with a bone buzz going”.

The FrightKnight stares at him, possibly baffled, it’s kinda hard to tell. Before huffing an almost laugh, “perhaps, at the least, your peculiarity will provide entertainment”, possibly smirking, “in the likeness of a court jester”.

Danny putting a hand to his chest, feigning offence, “hey I will have you know I am thee most entertaining of fools. I get punched for my mouth all the time”.

And… and The FrightKnight actually laughs a little. Well damn, this might actually mildly work. The FrightKnight turning away, “I shall return here, I suggest you not make me wait”.

Danny blinking as the guy rides off on his alicorn, “so I’m just supposed to stay here and twiddle my thumbs then? Yeah fuck too buddy”. Groaning with his entire body before just laying down on observatory, hands behind his head, he’d star gaze and trace the constellations except they’re in the ghost zone and there’s a goddamn glowing dome over the town, so he can see precisely sweet dick all!

Ugh.

Shit. Danny hasn’t even figured out where to go for coffee. Obviously not the Nasty Burger, he might love the place but it’s coffee kinda… sucked? and the big guy might take offence to being taken to a place that’s name starts with ‘Nasty’. Not Dalvbucks, for obvious reasons; Denny refuses to step a single foot in that place on principle. S&M? Their coffee was… okay but a bit sweet and Pariah goddamn Dark doesn’t seem like a sweets kinda guy. What about Remedy then? After all he was trying to remedy this situation? Oh he’s so funny.

Yeah Remedy it is.

Plus, if this goes to total utter shit then at least their espresso is basically molasses.

Then the FrightKnight just comes slamming down onto the top on the observatory, landing with one fist and one knee on the roof. Danny jumping and flailing in the air a little, “zone what the fuck man! Holy shit!”.

The FrightKnight swings to stand up full with heavy dramatic flair, “his highness demands your presence, your request has peaked his interest. For he knows not this ‘coffee’ you speak of, and desires to know what consumable you hold so dear that a small one such as you would choose to partake of it before their demise”.

Holy…. SUPER CRAP THAT ACTUALLY WORKED????? Wait did… did this fearsome fuck really just say that Pariah DOESN’T KNOW WHAT COFFEE IS???!?!?! How! What does Danny even do with that?!? Danny blinks really harshly, shaking his head out violently, “he’s… never had coffee?!?” Danny gestures at the ground, “how!?! Why!?!”, jerking up and pointing a finger in The FrightKnight’s face, “unacceptable!”.

The FrightKnight just stares, dumbfounded at Danny as he begins pacing, “I honestly can’t even begin to wrap my head around the fact that there are people out there, living, breathing, existing, dead, who somehow don’t know what coffee is. Coffee! C O F F E E! Kaa-fee! The lifeblood of humanity, our crowning achievement of creation! The nectar of the gods! The magic elixir that keeps us from descending into chaos before seven a.m or after it for that matter!”, Danny pausing and staring into the distance in horror, “oh my zone, is this a ghost thing? do ghosts not have coffee? Should I force Vlad to open one of his coffee shops in the zone? Hell! Why hasn’t he already done that! The audacity! The cruelty! The inhumanity!”, pausing and huffing before throwing his hands out to the side again, “but Pariah looks like an adult, how did he make it to adulthood without so much as a random sippy sip of that liquid gold? How did he even function? How did he make it that far in life, going through days without that warm comforting cup that screams, ‘Hey, I’m alive, and I’m ready to conquer the goddamn world’? Especially because world conquering kinda seems to be his thing, you know?

Cappuccino? Americano? Caffe macchiato? Cortado? A basic latte?”, pausing again to stare at The FrightKnight, “oh god, he doesn’t know about espresso”.

“This seems like an over reaction, his highness is waiting”.

No! No! How darn this tit not get the gravity of this situation! Danny sputtering, “but how couldn’t I over react? You’re telling me this guy has never heard of the thing that keeps, like, ninety percent of this planet from crashing face-first into their walls and floors on literally every random ass day? The magical drink that fuels everything from global economies to late-night tv binges? What? Did all he have was water from a stream by some barren-ass cave?”, Danny holding up a hand and waving it back and forth, “wait no, even an idiot would probably still find a way to brew coffee using, like, a pot and some fire or some shit”, dropping his hand and glaring at the ghost, “so, tell me, how? HOW has he avoided this fundamental part of existence? For the love of every barely functioning soul out there, I am getting that man a cup. Then he can watch the magic unfold as that tiny shot of espresso kicks in and everything becomes BEES!”.

The FrightKnight stares at him for a beat before just grabbing Danny by the scruff like a kitten and picking him up, “I shall not entertain this foolish ranting any further, if you have grievances, take them up with his highness”.

“You dishonour him by never bringing him coffee”.

“I do no such thing”.

“So you do bring him coffee and are just a liar”, Danny glances up and down the guy, still being held up in the air by his jumpsuit collar, “I mean I guess your pants are kinda on fire?”. The FrightKnight gives him a look that can only be described as violently murderous due to extreme disgust -repulsion induced murderous intent?- before just flying off with Danny hanging limp from his hand.

The FrightKnight all but tosses Danny in a heap at the foot of the throne, the rug leading up to it is ragged like whoever couldn’t be bothered to spend the effort or energy to fix it. Danny pushing himself up to sit on his heels, the walls are dirty, things are ripped and cracked everywhere; honestly? It was giving exhausted engineering student bachelor pad, just… you know, castle sized. Actually looking at Pariah -fuck the guy is huge- and the throne doesn’t look a whole lot better, scratched to shit and missing whole ass chunks. Pariah has an elbow on one armrest and his chin in a palm, he looks bored honestly and very grumpy. But like, if Danny had never had coffee he’d be pretty damn fucking grumpy too thank you very much gosh.

Danny blinks from his spot on the floor, he’s still a bit miffed but maybe being mildly respectful would be a goodish idea. “Hi?”.

Pariah narrows his eyes and seems to almost sigh, “I was told of how you desired to provide me with a taste of your world I have yet to know-”.

Yeah said ‘maybe I should be respectful’ desire is getting tossed outta the damn window, because again WHAT THE HELL WAS UP WITH THAT?!?! Danny leaning a little forward and pointing up at the guy, “yeah! That! That is so wildly unbelievable. How in the holy hell do you not know what coffee is? THEE drink of drinks!”.

Danny can absolutely feel that Fright guy just… staring at him. In shock? In amusement? In horror perhaps? Whatever. Fuck it.

Danny gesturing around, “the dark elixir that prevents us from becoming mindless zombies in a never-ending pit of despair and exhaustion? Are you a dead of some wild alien species that only consumes things in their most raw state, or some shit? ‘Cause how else do you not know what coffee is? Alien?”, Danny points at Pariah again before nodding confidently to himself, “alien”.

Pariah quirking an eyebrow at him before lifting his head from his palm, “I am not of alien descent, you fool”.

“Well then did you live in a cave raised by, I don’t know, Thylacines?”, gesturing some more and standing up aggressively, “you’re seriously telling me your giant ass woke up every morning like a regular living human, but instead of reaching for the sacred brew of all existence and life, you just stumble around like some kind of caffeine-less monster? Like I know all those other ghost were framing you to be some mass murder psycho monster, but I’d take that over the monster that is a being capable of being a fully awake and functioning caffeineless beast!”, pointing, “if you don't drink coffee, you're not living; you're just surviving”, pointedly glancing up and down Pariah’s form, “and, like dude, I'm not even sure you're doing that much. You look vaguely like shit, is that evil eyeliner I see or exhaustion induced eyebags?!? Who knows! Not I! Not you! Because you’ve never had coffee”, gesturing at random thins and spinning around a little, “and look at this place! Clearly either you don’t care, or you’re too tired to care. Look at that fucking wall! It’s got a hole shaped like a generic dick doodle and I betcha your not grounded in reality enough to have even commented on it!”, putting his hands on hips and turning back to Pariah, “pathetic. Not having coffee is pathetic”.

“I am not pathetic”.

Danny makes faces at the guy, leaning forwards, “bitch check yourself. This place, your broken ass clothes, the fact that you’ve been goddamn comatose for, like, evar, and you still maybe have eye-bags; just screams you need that hot cup of liquid motivation to scrape yourself up into productivity! It’s easy to have the energy to shit kick someone”, putting a hand to his chest and sticking his nose up in the air, “I would know”, looking down and pointing at Pariah again, “but getting the energy to read something you don’t wanna read or clean your damn floors because walking on clean floors just makes you feel better sometimes, now that shit takes real energy. Energy your shit ass clearly doesn’t have”, gesturing around, “case and fucking point”.

Pariah actually growls at him, Danny’s probably gonna get himself killed the rest of the way, “I hardly have interest in wasting time on tasks so far beneath me, that’s a role for worms like you”, Pariah grinning meanly, “far better you simply end”.

Danny snorts, crossing his arms, “a giant-shaped puddle of sleep deprivation, completely unaware that it’s committing some kind of unholy crime against its brain by denying itself the single most beautiful thing humans have ever crafted? Pah! You couldn’t wreck my over caffeinated ass for shit!”. Yeah way to go self, just start actively goading whats basically death god into a fist fight. Fucking brilliant ideal Danny! Whelp, too late, he’s done it now. “I’m a cracked up caffeine boss of wanton energy and these guns”, flexing stupidly, “and you’re just some lost little baby bitch soul in a sea of double-shot caramel lattes, venti vanilla bean macchiatos, and cold brew chaos; somehow missing all of them. Your aim must be absolute ass to miss all that coffee”, throwing his hands up in the air dramatically, “how can you even enjoy wrecking someone else’s shit if you’ve never even experienced the pure bliss of taking that first gulp of piping hot acid and getting gut punched with the feeling of being able to take on a machine gun wielding T-Rex, a tsunami, getting stuck in an elevator with someone you hate, and your entire email inbox that you’ve been ignoring for a month, all at once. You don’t meet the caffeine levels needed to end me, you oversized assclown!”.

Danny huffs a bit, vaguely outta breath but mostly just for the show of it. Pariah just… stares before looking to his Knight, Danny turning his head to follow suit. The FrightKnight has turned away, a hand over his face, head slightly tilted down, and one forearm against a pillar; is he just super disappointed in Danny’s entire existence or is he freaking laughing? How dare! Coffee is no joke!

Danny turning around fully and pointing violently at the ghost, “oh your pointy ass better not be one of those people who genuinely believes in that ‘hydration’ crap like some kinda lunatic. I will wreck your shit”, sticking his arms backwards at Pariah but still facing Teh FrightKnight, “how can you serve a planet wrecker, lair render, realm conquerer; and not be down with that empire-building, soul-empowering elixir! Ancient artifact passed down through the ages by the gods themselves!”.

Pariah… Pariah definitely laughs, and both Danny and The FrightKnight jerk around to eye him, “I am the only god any fools need”.

Danny blinks owlishly, putting on a mock old man mocking tone, “you don’t even know what coffee is, boy, the grown ups are talking”. The FrightKnight looks at him slowly, very slowly, “what… what is wrong with you? Have you no sense of self preservation, pathetic mortal?”.

“Honestly? No”, putting out his hands, “on the scale of things I care about between ‘coffee’ and ‘my life’ the ‘coffee’ side is getting weighed down hard enough to put a crater in the ground, and the ‘my life’ side gets flung up violently into the sun to be obliterate from of all of existence forever more. I stopped giving a damn about SeLf PrEsErVaTiOn a long time ago”, tilting his head, “probably around the time I discovered there wasn’t anything stronger than espresso, except just loading on more espresso”.

Then Pariah stands up -The FrightKnifhr kneeling immediately- and stalks over; glaring down at Danny who crosses his arms and glares right back up. “I have no need for your foolish ‘liquids’ to be a god, I am far beyond a god”.

Danny snorting, rolling his eyes, and moving to inspect his nails, “I don’t know, I think your jealousy looks good on me. I mean, I’m absolutely caffeinated and cranked up, that’s why I be vibin’”. The FrightKnight grabs his ankle and bodily slams him into the floor, making a little dent. “Dude my bone buzz does not need a bone break added in, Frighty”.

“Do not act on my accord when there is no need”.

“Apologies, your highness”, The FrightKnight swallows, “though he was, foolishly, insulting you”.

Pariah huffs, “as if such things bother me, weak fools always insult those they can not best”.

Danny chuckling from the floor, “bitch, I already bested you with my caffeine lubed blood stream. My blood and ecto high-fives my whole being, your shit ass ecto just slug-a-glugs on; uninspired, aimless, senseless”. Pariah moves to be basically stand over Danny, Danny nodding a little, “sup. You realized the greatness of coffee yet? Greatness that far surpasses your own?”; Danny is so totally gonna die and get ended here.

“You are tenacious, I will allow you that much”, huffing gruffly, “and, though, frustrating, you are interesting enough that I will deign to allow you your ending wish. I will try this ‘coffee’ of your, this ‘creation’ you hold up as your own god, and I shall conquer it till nothing remains but ash”, sneering, “you will end knowing a true god”.

“Cool beans, cocoa beans specifically”.

“I will know, and you will fail, if this is merely an attempt to poison me”.

“Ten bucks and a pound of pixie sticks that there actually legit is no poison that would work on you”, Danny pulls an arm out of the floor dent and points up at the guys face, “and I would never put this much effort into a damn attempted poisoning, poison is boring and can’t scratch that destructive itch”.

The FrightKnight looks back at Danny, “now you have the sense to compliment his greatness?”.

“Hey man, I get to introduce someone to coffee, I’m ridin’ high”.

Pariah leans down, grabbing Danny by the arm, and physically yanks him out of the ground before stomp over and chucking him aggressively out of the front doors, “return with your concoction, half flesh-bound fool”; and slams the door shut.

Danny just kinda floats for a bit. Well… he didn’t die die? Cool? Cool. Surprising! But cool. He is so totally getting coffee for that guy though. Danny ain’t no punk ass bitch. Never back down never give up! One problem… from where?!??!?

“What a peculiar creature”.

The FrightKnight nods slightly, standing respectfully behind his lordship, “indeed. In the time that I have been released I have heard a great many tales of his way with words and his… particular skill with verbally bashing all of his surroundings”, humming faintly, “some of the ghosts appear to pick fights with him for purely such a reason. He is… entertaining as much as he seems infuriating, to such a point as that infuriation is, in and of itself, amusing as well”.

Then off in the distance a shout can be heard “ HOW THE FUCK IS THERE NO DAMN COFFEE SHOPS IN THIS FUCKING REALM! VLAD! IM GONNA KICK YOUR ASS! HERE I THOUGHT I KNEW THE ENDS OF YOUR DEPRAVITY! BUT TO DEPRAVE THIS PLACE OF LIQUID ICHOR IS AN UNFORGIVABLE OFFENCE!”.

Pariah moves a hand back and smacks The FrightKnight over his helmet, “go aid that useless fool. Now”. The FrightKnight is off in a flash.

…

Pariah walks over to one of his windows after a beat, staring out at the endless lands and their greens and purples, “I wonder… does that boy speak true. An elixir that cures exhaustion, one that grants weary souls back their energy. A pulse that stirs the mortal realm”, humming thoughtfully, “perhaps a thing like that could grant me more than obliterating these lands can”.

The FrightKnight startles Danny, grabbing him by the scruff again, “you are akin to a needy mewling kit”, and growls a little.

Danny just points at the guys face, “you can make portals right! I!”, sighing dejectedly, “can not”, waving around a hand, “otherwise I woulda gotten my town outta this sitch and told the ghosts that live here to ‘deal with their shit’ already”, pointing again, “make me a portal, slave”.

The FrightKnight glares violently, “only because he orders me, not one such as you”, and makes a portal, aggressively throwing Danny’s sorry ass through it before walking through himself. Crossing his arms down at Danny, who landed face first ass up on a sidewalk, “now do as you’ve been ordered”.

Danny chuckles into the dirt, “yeah yeah”; is he still picking Remedy? Yeah, obviously. They have shops all over the place. Danny’s even more uninterested in getting it from DalvBucks now, because again, what the hell Vlad! He means really? You’d think the guy would, as a business man and billionaire, at least realize a complete massive hole in the market for some coffee shops. Vlad’s immoral ass should have thought of monopolizing that kind of obvious opportunity long before Danny did. Pushing himself up off the ground and transforming human again, “alright! Off we go to Remedy! For a remedy for ghost gods lack of caffeine!”, and starts marching off. The FrightKnight watching for a beat before sighing and following along; very clearly fed up with Danny’s shit.

“Halfa?”. Danny damn near jumps before looking at a door to the back of some building, there’s a blue? Or maybe purple? Ghost guy poking out of it, “what have you done!?!”, the ghost eyeing The FrightKnight faintly worried.

Danny puts a hand to his chest, “I am getting coffee”.

The ghost blinks owlishly, “the bane of the Infinite Realm has abducted your lair and you’re… getting coffee?”.

“Hey I don’t wanna get die-drated, you know. Livin’ la vida mocha before I get beaten black and brew”.

The ghost actually slides down the door and lays on the ground, “by the Ancients, everyone was right. You’re a nightmare”.

Danny putting his hands to his face and mock gasping, “oh my god I’m famous! That must mean everything is going to bean alright, because bad things never happen to famous people! Especially when I’m a latte to handle”.

“You peed in someone’s motorcycle tank”.

“Oh yeah that was great. Eight outta ten piss spot”.

The FrightKnight snarls, making the ghost jerk up with an ‘eep’ and partially hind away in the doorway again, “his highness has demanded this one bring him coffee due to his incessant bolstering and you shall not distract him further”; though The FrightKnight does actually eye Danny slightly respectfully.

The ghost shakes himself off a bit, clearly mustering up some courage and staring at Danny, “you freaking conned Pariah?!? Are you insane”.

Danny holds up a hand, “how dare you insult me so! I don’t joke about coffee! And think about it, put on your thinking cappuccino, the ends justify the beans. And what? you saying I made bad fucky whucky and now I’m gonna go sleep in the forever box?”, Danny tilting his head and tapping his chin, “maybe I’ll take Pariah’s coulda-been-if-Vlad-wasn’t-insane forever box?”. Annnnnd now The FrightKnight is dragging Danny off by his collar, again. This feels like it’s becoming a habit. (It did, in fact, become a habit; much to Danny’s amusement and The FrightKnight’s annoyance).

Danny pulling out his phone and google mapping his way to the nearest Remedy. The FrightKnight watching him, “do you not know where to go…”, and huffs disbelievingly. Danny holding up a finger but not looking away from his phone, “this ain’t Amity, sweet cakes, I don’t have every coffee shop on the planet memorized”.

“If his highness asked it of thee then thou should”.

“He can memorize this ass instead”.

The FrightKnight kicks him into a wall, which Danny peels himself off of unharmed and continues on.

…

Well at least they make it to a Remedy uninterrupted after that. Danny looking from his phone to the building and pointing at the sign, “it has appeared before us! A sign of the gods lands!”, turning to The FrightKnight, “now you, are we going back immediately after this?”.

“Obviously, fool. It is unwise to keep his highness waiting any more than he already has”, and with that The FrightKnight says nothing more as he turns invisible.

Danny nodding curtly, “good because coffee has optimal temperatures, you know”, and then just walks on in and up to the counter.

“Hello and welcome to Remedy, what can I make for you today? We have a special on Red Eye’s today”.

“Sure, two of those. And two double espressos; I’m from Amity don’t question it”. She visibly relaxes at that. “Two Americano Mistos and Two caramel lattes”. She blinks at him so he adds on, “promise I won’t die? Here’s my id”, Danny dutifully handing over said id.

She stares at it, turns her head towards the back, “Amity Parker!”.

Someone shouting back, “a teenager!?!”.

“Yeah!”.

“Oh god”.

Danny is just snickering to himself as the lady finishes writing his heart attack inducing order on paper and gets to work with her fellow employees. This was one of the nice things about all towns vaguely close to Amity Park, they all wound up hosting sport game things with the Casperhigh Ravens, meaning they all had to interact with Amity Parker’s.

One of the employees eyeing Danny, “what are you doing here anyway?”.

“Town got sucked into the void”.

“Right…”.

“I am the only who is free”.

“Okay then… I’m going to help them with the… insane amount of espresso that needs to be brewed now”.

That’s fair, Danny thinks, he did order, what, twelve? shots of espresso basically?

...

Yeah this is gonna take a while.

…

Like. A really long while.

Fuck.

He’s so totally just going to dick around on his phone for now. He can absolutely feel The FrightKnight’s invisible judgment.

:Chap. 2:

The Worlds Best Tasting ‘Wine’

Buy the time Danny gets his drinks he’s plows through a few levels of unpacking. Thankfully this place is great and knows what order to brew what shit in -and has many espresso machines because it knows its clientele base- and Danny’s got his drinks at optimal temperatures.

Meaning he’s now heading out to have coffee.

In a giant fuck off dilapidated castle.

With basically death god.

Pretty sure he did not sign up for this when he kicked the bucket.

But hey, coffee, with god, on a Sunday, that’s his fate now.

He’s not remotely surprised when The FrightKinight picks him up by the neck again, Danny pulling a face and trying to balance his trays, “don’t you dare spill the nectar! This stuff’s gonna be the start of a brew-tiful friendship”.

“Highly unlikely”.

“Oh you never know, Frighty, this stuff might just give his core the shit kicking it needs for him to not suck. Granted, this shit would straight kill the living if they drunk this much so… sucks to suck”, Danny snorting as The FrightKnights lifts his hand to make a portal, “imagine being alive enough to be killed by coffee? Pah! I could never”.

The FrightKnight sticking Danny through the portal and, actually gently, setting him down on his feet on the ground. Danny blinking up at the once again seated Pariah while The FrightKnight walks through his portal and closes it, walking towards Pariah and bowing, “we hath return, my liege”.

Danny blinks at The FrightKnight once before looking to Pariah, “heyya! Again”, lifting his trays, “behold thee ambrosial, gifted upon us by the earth itself. Its rich aroma rises like incense, filling the air with a promise of clarity and might. Each sip is a divine communion, a ritual that stirs the spirit and invigorates the weary soul. The dark, velvety liquid shall flow through us like a sacred nectar, bestowing upon us a true sense of purpose and vitality. In its depths, we shall find not only warmth but transcendence, as if we are partaking in the liquid of the philosophers stone itself. Come! Consume with me a drink so great you’d never wanna eat human flesh again”, Danny snorting and laughing a little, starting to walk over, “pardon my French roast ‘bout that last bit, it’s a song reference and I just had to do it ‘em”. Though… it does give him an idea…

The FrightKnight actually sighs as Pariah stands, the two following the massive ghost into a suitably massive dinning hall.

Danny tenderly putting the trays down and pulling out the respective cups. Danny nodding at everything when he’s done before rounding on Pariah, if this guy turns out to hate coffee then he’s gonna lose his shit… and probably also die die… especially with how much he’s hyped this stuff up. “So the tiny cups, the pure straight espresso is last because some people find it tastes like absolute ass by itself but ho boy is enough energy to fight the sun worth it”, pushing one of the caramel lattes at the guy. Danny taking his own and sipping happily while the larger ghost lifts up the cup -that looks comically tiny in his fingers- and eyes it curiously.

The man drinks.

The man… smiles. He likes it.

Danny has won.

Now time to get him absolutely fucked up on caffeine, because Danny? Yeah Danny’s tolerance is impressive. This guy might have been uncaffinated for years and comatose for more and built like a goddamn mountain, but Danny’s been slamming this shit back practically his whole life. Mom and dad even gave him the stuff as a toddler to ‘make sure he could out waddle those darn ghosties’.

Danny pushes the Americano Misto at the guy next, Danny pointing at The FrightKnight, “you! Fetch one of my friends to get more, he likes it and has so many centuries of coffee to make up for!”. The FrightKnight looks at him like he is insane but -and this is a big but- Pariah actually waves him off to do as Danny’s told him to. This Pariah guy might just make Danny go on a power trip.

Danny looking at Pariah as The FrightKnight flies off, “you're pretty ‘ight”.

“Do not push your luck, puny child”, Pariah takes another sip, “tell me, what is your name”.

Fuck that’s a good set up but no, nope, Danny’s holding out on bursting into song till this guy is well and truly FUCKED. “Phantom. Danny, Phantom”. It’s kinda funny because Danny can literally see the metaphorical life and light come back into the guys eyes, caffeine rejuvenating his very being in immeseaurable ways.

Danny watching Pariah take the Red Eye and sip it, blink harshly, but still go in for more. Nice. Very nice. Danny decides to power move on the guy and chugs his own Red Eye. Finally Danny gets that mild look of horror from Pariah mother fucking Dark. Ha. This is great. Danny lifting his empty cup up some, “coffee is not just some lowly simple drink, it is an invitation to step into the divine. When one sip it’s greatness, one partakes in an ancient ritual of renewal. The essence of the earth, mingled with the fire of our spirits, flowing through us. Each drop is a whisper of vitality, a reminder of the spark of existence that courses through our forms!”.

And then The FrightKnight gets back, with an obscene amount of coffee. Mostly espresso shots. Nice guys, nice. His two friends knew well when Danny was pulling a drinking competition out of his ass. Danny grabbing up the last of the drinks he bought, the little double espresso, and holds it up in a cheer, “coffee is a stacker, the more you drink, the more energy you get”; and pounds it back.

Pariah eyes his own tiny double espresso, “is that so”; he chugs the thing to and, maybe because he’s got this weird ‘I’m better and stronger than everyone’ thing he holds down his wince at the bitter taste.

Danny chuckles, grabbing another drink, “you look like a Viking kinda guy, yeah”, and fucking winks, downing the drink.

Pariah takes the goddamn bait. Not surprising since there’s no way he has never had alcohol… right? Yeah that’s gotta be right. Norse and Viking and shit. Wine or beer at least? Anyway, drinking competition is a go.

Danny drinking deeply, savouring every drop. While Pariah, wanting to prove his superiority, seemingly makes a point to match cup for cup; but Danny does not flinch, his eyes and form always steady and full of amusement.

Though… Pariah looks like he’s having fun too honestly. Maybe at this point Danny will manage to just befriend the damn guy instead?

But as the hours stretch on, The FrightKnight almost pitifully coming back with yet more espresso and lattes and Red Eye’s and so ons.

And…

Pariah has begun to slow, Danny can almost hear the guys core, surely his vision must be blurring just as his form was fizzing slightly, but still, the High Ghost King carries on, unwilling to admit his clear defeat.

Meanwhile Danny’s ass is still grinning, smile never fading, his skin and core not giving a single hint of jittering. He’d asked both The FrightKnight and Pariah himself to recount their stories and share their victories during all this shit, but at this point Pariah clearly can barely focus on his own words nonetheless the stories told.

Apparently the guy forced someone to eat their own fingers once? Ew and why honestly…

Danny watching the man’s fingers twitching spastically, out of his own control ever so slightly, as he eyes another cup almost with disgust.

“Your highness-”.

“Silence”.

Danny has to force himself not to grin evilly at The FrightKnight, since the frightening guy has clearly realized what was going on here; Pariah is way too buzzed to have noticed the same though. He doesn’t even try to keep the grin out of his voice though, “how ‘bout you get us another round, Frighty”.

The FrightKnight eyes actually genuinely widen in horror, even more so when Pariah waves him off, “sire, I must object-”.

“Go”.

The FrightKnight flinches and does as he’s told, the look his gives Danny is absolutely furious, Danny winks back like a jackass.

Danny, turning back to the table, downs another -he’s probably had at least sixty-seven espressos by now, he’s kinda impressed actually- before standing with a smirk. Pariah eyeing his cup and then Danny with disgust and caution, while Danny floats up over his shoulder, “you really thought you could out caffeine the guy who was practically singing its praises huh? Silly silly man”, floating over the other shoulder as the guys brows furrow, “prideful folks and their habit to fuck around and find out”, snickering and breaking out into song, Polyphemus from Epic The Musical was exceptionally fitting right now, “don’t you know that pain you sow is pain you reap?”, floating back to his other shoulder, “time to drink your blood over where you stand. Your life now is in my hand”, floating again to the other shoulder as Pariah struggles to stand, obviously now getting the, ahem, ‘danger’ he was in. “Before I'm done, you will learn that it's not so fun to take”. Danny easily and energetically zipping away from Pariah’s hand swipe, still hovering over the guys shoulder, “you came to my home to steal. But now you'll become my meal”. Pariah tries to lunge at him but his form won’t move right, then trying to summon a weapon to him but all it does it shake. Danny laughing, “a trade, you see? Take from you like you took from meEeEeE”.

Look. Okay. Danny’s not actually gonna off the guy or whatever. Even with this guy fucked up on an energy overload Danny’s still not winning shit dick all. Also combine that with the fact that Danny does absolutely feel like vomiting a little. Meaning he cuts the act out, laughing merrily and zipping around to give the guy a back pat, “relax, it’s a song and I’m just fucking with you. But yeah no, your bitch ass lost”.

Danny floating himself back into a chair and happily, stupidly sipping another Red Eye, it’s a little gross cold now. Pariah’s squinting at him as The FrightKnight portals back in… with nothing. The FrightKnight narrows his eyes at the scene, speaking slowly at Danny, “I was informed you’d be done”.

Danny snorting, nice guys, “oh yeah, I’m, like, one and a half drinks away from violently vomiting a Jackson Pollock painting all over this busted up table”, jabbing a thumb at Pariah, “and he’s a few past almost destabilizing himself and seeing the hat-man”.

Pariah huffs but doesn’t deny the statement, “there is a man wearing an hat in the corner, yes”.

Danny snorts, “yeah that’ll happen if consume a metric fuckton of any mind altering shit. I just have a lot of tolerance. He is not real, do not approach”.

Pariah stares at him, “aren’t you at the least tired by now?".

"I'll rest when I'm dead dead. Like you!”.

"No, you will certainly not."

Danny eyes Pariah, oh fuck he screwed up didn’t he? “what do you mean?”.

Pariah smirks at him as he sits down again very slowly and carefully, “I will enjoy your new title of court jester immensely”. Danny screams internally. “I have not felt this energized since teen hood”.

The FrightKnight blinks, Danny blinks, Danny bursting out, “holy shit! I knew it! You were just a fucking energy deprived shit head!”. Pariah crushes a cup, making Danny chuckle awkwardly, “who’s now not energy deprived and is totally definitely going to stop terrorizing an entire realm and my town? Please?”, grinning nervously, which vibrates a little from pure raw energy, “I’m your only good access to coffee? And apparently your court jester now?”. Danny glances at The FrightKnight when the guy pointedly crosses his arms and seems to raise an eyebrow, “oh nothing out of you, do you even know anything about coffee?”, taking Pariah’s cup off of the table, “like this espresso? Cold af now, definitely horrifically bitter and practically not even worth drinking now”, then whispering, “may it rest in splendour”, looking back to The FrightKnight, “you’d probably go and order him fucking Timmies decaf! And that stuff is god awful ever since they got bought out or whatever”, snorting, “that stuff gives humans the shits, I wouldn’t even want to know what that would do to a ghost”.

And Pariah? Pariah laughs, it’s a bit unstable-sounding but still, “the child has you there”. The FrightKnight looks to be in shock.

Danny nodding firmly, leaning back and crossing his arms, twitchy, “and everyone hates his ass, no way anyone else would actually go get him the good stuff or not actually poison it”, putting a hand to his chest, “I think I’ve proven I would never insult coffee like that!”.

The FrightKnight responding flatly, “if you’ve established anything, it would be that”; and eyes the numerous cups pointedly.

…

“Sooooo?”.

Pariah shakes his head, amused, and the air seems to shift or perhaps only Danny feels it shift, “your lair is returned from whence it came, foolish one who dared challenge and mock his god”.

Danny throws his arms up in the air, exclaiming, “HAHA! I WIN!”.

Pariah’s eyes narrow slightly, “you will put on a show for me and mine, fool. You will entertain me till you waste away to nothingness”.

“Haha! I lose!”.

The FrightKnight and Pariah seem to struggle not to laugh at him. Probably would have been mean laughs but still!

…

It would probably be pushing it if he tried to ditch Pariah and his giant castle immediately, wouldn’t it? Yeah yeah, probably. At least his friends probably know he’s fine, since him deciding to get the goddamn ghost of fear to ask them to get him an absolutely absurd amount of coffee orders while he’s in the middle of a fight, would be unhinged and stupid even for him. Though wait a minute… there’s no way Sam and Tuck would actually inform any of the ghosts of that… and just abandoning their homes especially when they all thought Danny was going to confront the guy, wouldn’t really make sense for ghosts… The ghosts did trap him once so them retrying that would make sense… Plus what about Vlad? That man’s ego was big enough that he legit might try to fight Pariah.

Danny snapping his fingers and pointing at Pariah, “let me sit on the throne”.

“How dare-”

“No no, listen, I’ll be sitting there all smug and shit when ghosts come bardging in to try defeating you. And they’ll be all like”, putting up his hands and putting on a mock whiney voice, “oh my zone! He beat Pariah! This noodle limbed smarmy shit’s our king now! NoOoOoOoO!”, dropping his hands and pointing at Pariah, “and then you can pop out from behind the throne, that thing’s fucking huge, and just ominously scare the ever loving shit out of everyone”. Pariah looks contemplative, like he might actually do this. So Danny carries on, “and they’ll all be like”, putting on the whiney tone again, “NoOoOoO! Pariah’s not ended! The halfa teamed up with him! We’re DoOoOoOmed! He might be a stupid shit but he can fight! Our last hope! NoOoOoOoOoOoO!”.

Pariah hums in consideration, “I shall grant you such an honour only once, and if only to terrify all those fools who dare oppose me or dare to entrap me”, standing slowly and marching back to his thrown room.

The FrightKnight staring at Danny, “I do not know whether to say you have tainted his highness, or to claim you’ve saved him”.

“Well considering he probably won’t get resealed now, kinda no point in sealing someone who isn’t so energy deprived that they bring wanton destruction everywhere they go just to feel something; the latter”.

The FrightKnight merely huffs at that as him and Danny follow after Pariah.

Okay so Pariah’s throne thing is supremely not comfortable and Danny is legit relieved -and somewhat filled with regret- by the time the ghosts do arrive. Barging in the door like they mean business and full of fake bravado.

“We’ll do what we must!”.

“Face us Pariah!”.

“The dark must fall!”.

“We are prepared to met our ends!”.

“Arghhhgghh!”.

“END!”.

Danny has his legs crossed, one elbrow on a knee, and face in palm; much like what Pariah had been doing when he first showed up in the rundown shithole. He smirks as they all fall silent, then giving a little wave, “little late, are we?”.

Skulker tilts his head, “Halfa?”.

Technus throwing up his hands, “I KNEW IT! I TOLD YOU THE GHOST CHILD WAS POWERFUL!”, then two seconds later, “OH NO HE’S POWERFUL!”.

Johnny throwing out his hands, “what the Hell man! Have you just been waiting here for us to do this!?! You jackass!”. Danny makes a point to laugh meanly at that.

Some random ghost muttering, “does this mean that one is king now?”.

Some weird cloaked eyeball ghost floats forward aggressively, “this does not make sense! We will not allow such a thing!”.

It just descends into utter chaos from there.

“How is this even possible!”.

“You mean to tell me he has the power of multiple Ancients!”.

“I can not be ruled by a guy that attempts to eat lamp posts!”.

“He’s not even entirely dead!”.

“That freak!?! Zone no!”.

“The HORROR!”.

“This is a sin! A sin I say!”.

“Oh zone is he gonna command us all speak in freaking rhyme or PUNS”.

It just becomes a mess of shrieking after that. The FrightKnight’s mouth is actually hanging open, shiny black teeth illuminated by his glowing green eyes. Danny can hear Pariah mutter, “unbelievable”, before stepping out and making his grand entrance.

Pariah stands there, slowly crossing his arms and glaring at ‘his people’, and everything goes silent until…

The crowd erupts in cries filled with pure terror, their voices trembling with disbelief as they witness the horrifying ’reality before them! Danny Phantom! With! Pariah! Dark!

One woman he doesn’t recognize screaming, “no! No, this can’t be real!”, her voice cracking with panic.

Technus damn near stammering, “HE’S… HE’S NOT ONE OF US ANYMORE!” , eyes wide with terror.

Someone in the background shouting,“please, someone stop this horror!”.

The Box Ghost shouting, “THIS IS MADNESS! We’re all DOOOOOMED!”, his hands shaking as he points at Danny very very dramatically.

Ember covering her mouth in horror, her voice barely a whisper, “he’s gone… Pariah has taken him. He’s lost”.

Someone else yelling, “everyone scatter! There’s nothing we can do now!”, as they grab others by the arm and try to flee, though the scene is apparently so horrifying that it seems like they can barely tear their eyes away.

This… this is a touch more over the top than Danny expected actually, go him and his funny man ideas. He absolutely can not help but burst out laughing, actually pitching out of the chair, spinning in the air cackling enough to make him tear up, “oh my zone! This- this was great! Hahahaha! He he he!”.

Pariah shakes his head almost in disbelief, reclaiming his throne, “to think such a simple trick would rile you creatures up to such a degree, your kind have gotten weak in my absence”.

The Lunch Lady is the one with the guts to stick her head back in through the doors, “that one, is a menace, WITH A TERRIBLE DIET!”.

Then Skulker all but storms in, “whelp stop laughing!”, gesturing at Pariah, “what the zone happened!”.

Danny floats to the ground, wheeze laughing a little, before calming down enough to respond, “I- I told you! We had coffee, man!”.

And then, because of course, Vlad’s smarmy ass shows up, “absolutely not”, flying aggressively at Danny, grabbing his shoulders, and shakes him violently, “I refuse to believe you ruined my plans like this! What sort of absurd insanity is taking a fabled Ghost King to get bloody coffee! Gouda Daniel! You are a fool! An imbecile!”.

“You will unhand my jester this instant, thief”, Pariah has his eyes narrowed threateningly at Vlad.

Vlad stares back, “ah, ahem”, and actually does let go of a smirking Danny. Vlad swallowing, “your? jester?”.

Danny finger-gunning at the guy from the ground, “apparently I’m funny, who knew”. Vlad gives Danny a look of genuine disgust before jolting from Pariah snarling, “begone with you”; Vlad, smartly, flees immediately.

Then the cloak eyeball guy floats back in at a slow and steady pace, staring -maybe? It’s really hard to tell- at Danny, “you are an unnatural walking disaster of a creature. Nothing good can come of you”. Which, rude!

Danny putting a hand to his chest, “thanks for the compliment, babe”. The eyeball ghost clenches Its fists at that, fucking good honestly. Danny doesn’t even know this ghost and they’re being a massive dick.

“Observant”, Pariah full on snarling, “you have no place to question me, to limit me with your pathetic rules and laws. Your feeble desires and so-called visions. You, too, will get out of my sight and never return”. The apparently named ‘Observant’ faintly flinches back and leaves. Meaning Danny doesn’t have to fist fight some random newbie today! Hooray! Then the guy turns on Danny, “you, come hither fool”.

Danny chuckles awkwardly, “I would jingle miserably across the floor if I had any jingle to give”.

Pariah’s mouth moves in that way people’s mouths do when they’re trying not to laugh; dude is definitely more chill now. “That is exactly the point, boy”, gesturing dismissively at the forming crowd, “prove my point to these far lesser fools”, then throwing a glare at The FrightKnight who hurries off.

Danny getting the jist, floating in front of Pariah, when frightful returns with a stick pole thing with a goddamn head on it and one of those jingle collar things that legit actual jesters wore. Oh fuck Pariah was not messing with him, note to self: Pariah doesn’t fuck around. That probably should have been obvious from all the mass slaughter and destruction, but nobody ever said Danny wasn’t dense.

The FrightKnight offering the stick thing to Danny with a kneel, which Danny takes because he’s not actually suicidal; it jingles very obnoxiously. Suiting honestly. The thing… does something? He’s not sure what, but it feels… kinda like his jumpsuit does, like it’s part of him or whatever.

Some huge ass four-armed blue warrior lady crossing one set of arms, shakes her head, and turns to leave; most other ghosts seemingly following suit.

Ember shakes her head at Danny specifically, “dipstick, how did you wind up this unlucky?”.

Danny shrugging, “eh, I slam dunked a basketball into gods halo immediately after being born”. Which actually makes her cover her mouth and snicker, her grabbing Skulker by the arm and dragging him out.

Danny nodding at the now empty area, holding his stick thing, the head’s face looks like it’s mocking him. Looking to Pariah, “so…. I’m gonna go make a bone necklace outta my sorta uncle now? That’s the guy who stole from you, by the by”.

The FrightKnight almost sighs, “and why are you doing that?”. But Pariah actually chuckles darkly, “to mock and harass is a jesters job, is it not”.

Danny snickering, “pretty sure he’s right, you know”, holding up a finger, pole thing now in one hand, “but if you need a reason-”, huffing, “-that fucker owns a coffee chain and hasn’t opened a single damn one in the entire zone. The audacity!”. The FrightKnight looks almost a bit offended that that’s Danny’s reasoning. Danny nodding curtly, “and I guess I’ll figure out what this stick does”.

The FrightKnight shakes his head but, with a nod of approval from his king, makes Danny a portal, “that is a marotte”.

“Fancy name for fancy stick, gotcha”. Danny zipping through the portal with plans of torment brewing, you know, in the same way that the desire to open up coffee shops in the ghost zone should have brewed in Vladdie’s sorry mind.

Pariah shaking his head before shaking his arms out a little, it was gonna be a while before that guy came down off of his Danny-induced caffeine buzz.

Danny finds Vlad rather quickly, in his huge fuck off castle of a house, getting a bit sloshed on whiskey. Vlad speaking his name with disdain, “Daniel”.

“It’s Danny, bitch!”, and with that Danny basically shoves the stick things face into Vlad’s own, making the guy jerk drunkenly before Danny full on bashes the guy with it.

…

Vlad’s hair and clothing turns head to toe an ugly mess of pinks and purples, Vlad glancing down while rubbing his head as Danny’s cackling and pointing mockingly. Vlad snarling at him, “Daniel! You turn me back this instance!”.

Danny wheezing, “get wrecked, cheesehead!”; laughing even harder when Vlad transforms and the colour changes stays. It’s like his horn hair is made outta moldy cotton candy! Danny, smartly, flees; forcing colour fucked drunken Plasmius to chase after him in public. Public shaming for the win! Danny is so totally doing this to ghosts at random all the time.

(He does indeed do it somewhat often, intentionally inconsistent with it to keep them guessing of course. Meaning Danny immediately becomes a complete menace about it, chasing folks around with the thing waving its startling face around wildly, it’s bells jingling ominously all the while. The Box Ghost strangely found being orange fun, till Danny figured out he could change things shapes a bit and started just making unholy amounts of circles around good ol’ Boxy).

Plasmius’s ’new look’ doesn’t last super long, just goes away on its own even, but it does make it into the paper. Danny stapling a copy to his wall immediately, it was pure gold. Danny admiring his handy work before looking back at Sam and Tuck, “so do you think I could convince Pariah to do crack? Just get coked up and do a coke twirl?”.

“DANNY NO!”.

Heh. He loves his half life so damn much.

(And if his first time ‘playing court jester’ outside of goddamn Pariah Dark’s Keep for the masses involved him sticking a cello in/on a golden toilet bowl, standing on said cello barefoot and in an oversized jingly fools cap/hat, playing it ominously, all the while making guttural growling sounds, and occasionally blowing a ‘here comes the king’ tune on a kazoo he taped to the cello; then that’s his business and everyone else’s horror. But hey? at least Pariah’s calmed the fuck down after waking the fuck up, thanks to the thing that wakes everyone else up properly; and Danny didn’t even have to fight him!

Fuck overthrowing death god king, a toilet bowl was enough of a throne for him, thank you very much).

End.

Prompts: There's more than one way to control a ghost Instead of fighting Pariah Dark, Danny invites him to get coffee "Aren't you tired by now?" "I'll rest when I'm dead." "No, you won't."

#phic phight #phic phight 2025 #danny phantom #phandom #pariah dark #fright knight #other characters for short times #coffee #excessive coffee #danny phantom is not the ghost king #Danny's a little shit #fanfic #my writing #have a fic suck my dick #gothmoth #phantomphangphucker #rants #reign storm

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inkandpaintsnowleopard · 1 year ago

Text

Look at that, an Introduction Post!

Good morning! And in case you’re staying up late like I am, good afternoon, good evening, and good night.

I am ████████, I draw so much I have a wrist brace now.

As anyone could tell from one quick look at my blog, I love Spooky Month. It being my main fandom on here was not the plan, but I’d be surprised to see something change that now. However, any piece of media, be it shows, movies, games, books, or anything else, that I even so much as mention, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO ASK ME ABOUT IT. If I bring it up at all that indicates that I am willing to talk about it, bordering on desperate to, please I’ve been alone for so long-

Old Things

Anything I have ever done, anything I have ever drawn, any idea I have ever had is totally up for grabs as long as I’m credited. You can go into my old archives, please go into my archives, please reblog my age old posts, PLEASE build on my ancient ideas. I give my thoughts specifically to be built upon, to spark new concepts, to one day be turned into drawings, and if you can do any of that, DO IT. It’s not like once it’s old it’s gone, that’s what an archive is for. It’s still there, use it.

Also,

I’m gonna say that you can use my stuff for anything. Again, as long as I’m credited; but even if I’m not, what’s mostly important to me is that something I made is out there being enjoyed by someone. Also, please put my posts on Pinterest if you want because I didn’t even know it was its own social media until like a few months ago and I sure as hell won’t be doing it myself.

Is There An Age Rating?

(Sad lil edit:)

Idk man. I’m in a weird spot where I would rather say Sex than the f-word. I never say or reblog suggestive stuff, but I LOVE blood and seeing adorable things face unfathomable traumas. I barely even draw characters kissing but I’ll draw them being ripped open from the inside out (Hehe Inside Out reference)

Don’t be afraid to show me things, but I will say that I don’t like gross stuff. I would also rather watch someone vomit their guts out than like. Throwing up actual vomit

DNI

As for a DNI list, I don’t really have one. If you do identify with anything on a standard list (proshippers, looking at you mostly), let’s just agree to exist around each other as Minecraft wolves, ok? As long as neither of us attack each other for no reason, everything should be fine. This is a blog run by a child and is mostly about children and children’s media, keep that in mind. Honestly even if you are problematic, I likely won’t care unless you do something bad to me personally.

Don’t betray me or you’ll be integrated into all my stories through allegory characters and when you die I’ll search your grave for cool stuff.

I try to remain as neutral as I can on most touchy subjects and am generally pretty sympathetic, which may or may not be my downfall one day, but for now you can rely on me to just be your funny little art poster and AU flesher-outer.

Asks N’ Stuff

I look at every single notification/ask I get and I love receiving them. If you send an ask and I don’t answer it, chances are:

I just can’t think of a response (may be answered when I do, could be insanely old by then but eh)

It sprouted an idea in my mind that made me go “Ooo, I should draw that!” and then I never did

I am specifically keeping it in my inbox for quick access

I did have a response and I just. Forgot. I think about it constantly but only when I can’t actually post anything

I may have legitimately just missed it. Trust that I’ll eventually look in my inbox, go “Oh BRUH I NEVER SAW THAT ONE,” and then one of the above will occur

Sometimes I also just look at ‘em and smile cause they’re nice

Now Me, Personally,

One may call me Ink. When I was a baby, I decided I never wanted to grow up. Nothing has affected me (for better and worse) more than that. I have spent about [age]-3= years zoned out and thinking of stories to tell. I’ve been very existential my whole life, like more than is normal for the average 8 year old. I enjoy talking to people, but often don’t do it unless approached first, and I don’t click with everyone. I have a hard time knowing how to talk in ways other than in jokes, but I’ll try. I also have the wildest thought process, so loads of things I say/think are contradictory, but it makes sense in my head trust.

Lowkey waiting to dox myself; I will tell my life story at the drop of a hat, just ask.

So Uh, Yeah

Interested in characters, interested in people, interested in the future, and interested in the past. Too much is on my mind at any given time. You need fandom stuff? I got it. Something drawn? I got it. Someone to talk to? Sure, I’ll try. But for now, I’m going to bed man.

#intro post #FINALLY

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444m777 · 10 months ago

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MJ BOOK CLUB: The HIStorians is LIVE!

Based on the voting results we’ll be reading a book on Michael! 55.6% voted for a book about Michael and 44.4% on a book he’s read.

By joining the group you get full access to:

—(bi)monthly meetings

—the chance to select the next book (everyone who joins gets a chance ofc but we’ll make use of a random selector)

—seasonal giveaway (more deets will follow soon)

—FREE seasonal digital MJ bookmark which you can print or just collect (and I just might make special physical ones if y’all like ‘em and I’ll ship it to you)

The meetings will take place monthly. However, life gets in the way sometimes that’s why I want everyone to update how far they are with reading. I’ll do a reader check-in every week so I know if the meeting is still doable for everyone or we might need more time (depending on the length of the book/personal time constraints). But for the most part if you didn’t finish it on time but would still like to join the discussion (and not mind spoilers) then that’s also ok! There’ll be space to just chat and discuss but the main group meeting will encompass the book we all read and the question(s) I posed in the group (and if anyone else has any prompts/questions). No pressure ofc! This is all supposed to be fun and a safe space to spill our thoughts and feels about these books.

I’d love to kick off everything during Michael’s birthday month. So, I’m keeping it simple with these **7 titles. We’re open to title suggestions and we’ll have a list in the group so everyone can keep track of what was read and what’s been added to the list. This list will include both books on/about Michael and books Michael has read. The man had a personal library of over 10.000 books! So, the next member that gets selected will reveal the following book title at the end of the meeting and it’ll be highlighted in the group and on tumblr.

For those who do not wish to join the group/can’t but still want to read along, I’ll be posting updates here on tumblr on what book we’re currently reading. You just won’t have full access to all the options members would have.

I don’t want to make this any longer than it needs to be. The official schedule for reading will be decided once the title is chosen. We kick off reading by last week of July/1st of August 2024

**This book club is about accessibility and I want everyone to be able to read regardless of financial circumstances. I will do my best in providing you with digital copy and if possible a physical copy as a keepsake :) If you cannot afford any of these books and you’re a member of the group please contact me directly (if you’re a minor and the adults in your unit can’t afford it, I’d still need one of them to reach out to me about that so then I can discuss/get their permission). If anyone else is interested in helping let me know.

#mj book club #MJ book club the historians #michael jackson #mjfam #mjforever #king of pop #mjj #MJ books #Michael Jackson books #moonwalk #mjinnocent #moonwalker #mjjinnocent #soldier of love #michael joseph jackson #books about Michael Jackson #mjtag #mj bookworms

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maetheartist · 11 months ago

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RESIDENT EVIL 4 REMAKE ROLEPLAY CALLOUT: REWRITTEN!

Hi I copy and pasted my last rp callout for Resident Evil 4, if you noticed, no you didn’t

Hi there! My name is Mae, pleasure to meet anyone who happens to come across this post- I am a young artist, hopping right back into Resident Evil 4 after the hype died down- yes, I joined last minute, I know… but I may or may have not gotten attached to a certain someone and am down horribly for- Major Krauser - AHEM. BUT ANYWAYS, I am looking for some people to rp with for the drama, romance and ships alike! I am dying to find fellow people who share my interests and are willing to hear me out on the concept ideas I made for Resident Evil 4! But nonetheless, let’s get right into it, ladies and gentlemen! :DD and yes, I rewrote my shit, new rules!

So here are the rules

Lets start off with requirements and rules!

Self-inserts are welcome!

Have a semiliterate writing style, proper grammar, and use quotations marks.

I roleplay on discord, I will not be role playing anywhere else.

Do not try and convince me to do anything that goes against what I have as my personal rules… if you are a decent human being, I humbly ask of you to please respect my boundaries, and I’ll respect yours!

If you want to have an rp… please send me a writing sample of yours so I can get an understanding of how you write, and see if I wanna work with it. It’s not required! But highly preferred and appreciated!

No…

No Mary Sues or Gary Sues, please, it is literally not any fun if your OC is too OP and has no weaknesses, just no, I will point it out in the RP if it Happens.

No Incest or Sexual Assault themes in role plays, a hard no.

No smut. If there is to be a smut scene in an rp, there will be a time skip to after the scene, no during it, no nada, only before and after scenes, I will NOT be writing two of our characters doing the nasty baby making ritual. 😭

No… but…

No Smut, definitely not… but suggestive and flirtatious dialogue is allowed! If there are to be any sexual scenes to happen, there will be time skips.

No controlling my OCs! but I can understand describing things like rain on their skin and certain pains they feel on their body.

No one sentence or very short replies… but I understand a small sentence or two, but don't do it the whole RP.

Do not keep the whole spotlight only to your character and their ship Partner, it is not Fair.

My writing style is Semi-literate, I prefer semi-literate writers over text talk writers unless it’s OCC.

Don’t what that is? Here!

Semi-Literate example:

The Moon goddess her lake from the bridge, sighing in contentment as she turned her attention to the moonlight reflecting the water’s surface with a soft gaze. "The best place to be for the silence is here..."

Text-talk example:

*Suijin looked at her confused* what do you mean? *She raised a brow*

Stuff I do and prefer!

I enjoy roleplaying fluff, romance, platonic relationships, action, and or comedic stuff!

I accept OC x Cannon, OC x OC and Cannon x Cannon ships! I also heavily encourage self-serts!

AUs are welcome! Though when I say AUs, I mean the fairly common ones like Yandere AU, Enemies to lovers AU, etc, etc. BUT! I’ll always be open to hearing out whatever you bring to the table!

Paragraphs? WHERE?!? Paragraphs are something I am absolutely down for, and I love them in roleplays! Especially when they are very detailed! I do em too and I would love it if someone else did as well!

If you know what Resident Evil 4 is all about… then you already know, violence and gore is definitely allowed, lol. Dark elements too, as long as they fit under the resident evil dark category.

Characters I’m able to play!

Leon S. Kennedy

Ashley Graham

Jack Krauser

Ramon Salazar

Luis Sierra

Bitores Mendez

Lord Saddler

Ada Wong

Ingrid Hunnigan

The Merchant

Characters I’d like you to play, if possible!

Jack Krauser (Top of my list because I’d very much would like to do an OC x Jack Krauser ship, lol)

Lord Saddler

Bitores Mendez

Ingrid Hunnigan

Ada Wong

The roles can be negotiated before an rp, we can switch stuff up depending n what you’d like to rp, I am flexible with who I play as! but I fear the only ship I will not be doing is Jack Krauser x Leon S Kennedy, I don’t know, it makes me uncomfortable as I see them with a Jim Hawkins and John Silver relationship, sorry! (I hope someone out there knows treasure planet to know what I mean.)

If you worry about getting responses back to me late- don’t get too worked up over it, we all have lives outside of the internet, and we just have to accept the fact that we can’t always be available! But do keep in mind that it’s good to let your friends online know that you may have to disappear for it bit, it also lets me know you’ll be busy for a bit! :D

If you want to RP with me, that’s great! I rp in Discord as it helps to organize everything, and if you’re interested and would like more questions- shoot me a dm, and I’ll answer when I can, thank you, and a have a wonderful day!

#fyp #foryoupage #ocs #ada wong #jack krauser #leon kennedy #resident evil roleplay #resident evil 4 role play #re4 remake #resident evil rp #resident evil 4 #re4 #resident evil 4 rp

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noxexistant · 2 years ago

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For your consideration:

Blink is regularly trying to upstage Jack and prove he can be a good enough leader (he stepped up when Jack was in the Refuge, why did he have to step back down?). He gets angry at times and can't always make rational decisions under pressure. There's a reason he's not usually leader.

But Jack starts asking his thoughts on things, getting his opinion when he's in a headspace when he can think clearly. Letting Blink feel like his thoughts finally matter. And Blink starts to feel like maybe he doesn't need to be leader, because Jack still values him.

oh i loooove this

blink is constantly chasing after the position of leader because he feels like he has to - sometimes because he wholeheartedly believes (when delusional) he deserves it or is meant for it - but when he’s clear-headed he’s not entirely sure he even wants it. he just…wants to have it, wants to be worth that, wants to prove that he’s just as good as jack. he’s not worth anything if he’s stuck behind him, below him. he wants to be worth something.

but he also knows that he’s not a good leader. not a consistent one, at least. he has moments of being good, and he really does try, and he sincerely loves everyone else in the gang, but then he gets stressed or angry or overwhelmed. he starts getting paranoid that the others are talking about him, resenting him, because he’s different - not one of them - when he’s leader. he makes impulsive decisions that put himself and the others at risk, he gets aggressive when any of them challenge him or even just don’t do as he says immediately, he sees anyone - but especially racer and crutchie, jack’s favourites - as competition. he starts hating jack, and he doesn’t like that. he doesn’t want to be like that, feel that way about his friends, be stuck between this overwhelming pressure or absolute worthlessness.

it helps so much when jack starts asking for his input. at first, blink doesn’t really understand it. he thinks maybe jack’s mocking him, maybe trying to use him, but if blink makes a suggestion and jack likes it he’ll announce it to the room just like that - “‘ey, blink’s got a good idea! he says—“

and the others, like they always do, start to follow jack’s lead. blink knows some of them are a little afraid of him, especially since his few stints as leader and the outbursts he’d had during that time, but steadily they start trusting him and coming to him for advice. jack won’t finalise decisions until himself, race, and crutchie (and davey) are all in agreement, and suddenly blink finds himself on that committee too. if he doesn’t like something, the whole thing gets put on hold until jack can work something out with him. suddenly, blink doesn’t feel like he has to overcompensate for not being jack, and that in itself helps him keep a clearer head.

“why’re you askin’ me?” he asks gruffly, on a rougher day, when jack asks him what they should do about something. “you’re here. you’re the leader, jack. you don’ need me.”

jack scoffs. “‘course i need you. i needs all’a youse. ain’t any use tryin’ to be a leader all by myself. i don’t got many good ideas, you guys gotta fill in the gaps.”

blink doesn’t really know what to say to that, doesn’t know how to rationalise jack so openly admitting as their leader that he doesn’t always know what to do - that he relies on them too. jack must notice it, because he steps a little closer and claps a hand on blink’s shoulder - on his far side from his bad eye - and squeezes. “‘ey, we all got each other’s backs, blink. you back me up, i back you up. i trust you.”

blink swallows the urge to tell him that he shouldn’t. that blink’s dangerous at best. instead, he manages a tight, lopsided sort of smile.

“so, if i says we should soak ‘em?”

jack grins back at him, amused. “i’d at least hear you out.”

#answered #whistlingstarlight #kid blink #jack kelly #my writing #my headcanons

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brokenmusicboxwolfe · 2 years ago

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Good grief, what the hell was I thinking??

There I was shopping and this guy I’m friendly with at Walmart comes up and asks if I can tale a pot belly pig.

Now I DID tell him I have more than enough animals. But then he starts telling me how a woman he knows might be moving to another state, and can’t take her pet pig. She doesn’t know where to find a home for it, and he knows I have a pet pig and a ton of other beasties, so one more shouldn’t be a problem…

I actually felt guilty for saying no! Me, who sometimes skips on food for me to feed the menagerie I already have!

So I say, well, the pig would have to move in with Ryoga and that might not go at all well. I mean, sure, I’ve always wished he had company, but for a full grown hog with tusks to have a much smaller pot belly pig move in might be dangerous. Ryoga has NEVER had to share anything but my attention. He’s had his own house, his own food, and when I’ve been by his lot he gets 100% of the petting. Ryoga is happy with me sharing oranges or bananas or (currently) grapes with him, but I’m outside the lot and literally the hand that feeds him. For all I know sweet Ryoga might want to kill someone, ahem, “hogging” things!

So I explain I’d be very worried about it working out. And what does the guy say? “Oh, I’m sure he will adjust.” Yeah, YOU are sure! Easy to say when you don’t even have a pig!

But then it’s the sob story, the whole “nowhere to turn” thing, suggesting the very life of the pig is at stake if a home can’t be found, etc.

And I can’t stand it.

I am such a fucking sucker! Why do I have a pet hog? Why do I have five dogs? Why do have about twenty cats on the farm that I take care of? Why did my family have almost every single pet we ever had? Because we are suckers!!! A stray shows up or someone turns to us in desperation because they need to get rid of a pet, and we can’t just say “ Not our problem. Let ‘em die if the shelter can’t find them a home. Or let ‘em fend for themselves. Not our responsibility to save them”

Hell, we once ended up with a rabbit because the owner got sick of them and threatened to make them into stew if we wouldn’t. Seriously, all they had to do was threaten the furball’s life and we went “FINE! We’ll take them!”

But damn it, this time I do NOT have the money to feed another mouth, and I can NOT build another lot just for a new beastie, and NO the pig can NOT move into my house!

**sigh**

Like I said. I’m a sucker.

I let the guy have my phone number so the woman can call me about it if she does end up moving.

I just couldn’t stand the thought of the poor homeless pig in this area where people so casually joke about killing any animal that isn’t a dog (cats included). I mean, they might not threaten to cook him like they do ALL the time about my Ryoga, but I don’t trust people around here to actually love pet pig. Since I’ve had Ryoga I’ve had too many casual chats in stores with people that had a beloved pet pig when they were little that their parents had killed.

But DAMN, this is a BAD idea!

Oh, PLEASE let this woman not move!!!!! ‘Cause if she calls and starts telling me she can’t find anyone else I might find myself with major snouted problem!!

I hate being a sucker for anyone, regardless of number of legs, that seems to meed help….

#my day #pets #pig

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scyllas-revenge · 2 years ago

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Hi there! I was reading your Burn Like Cold Iron fic and so far it’s AMAZING!!!! 😁✨ I was wondering if you could tell me, if you’re able, how you were able to figure out your story with the language difference with Beatrice and her only speaking English and being in Middle Earth where they speak literally like, everything else? (I’ve only gotten up to chapter 4 so far.)

I know you were able to use Saruman’s mind using his translation method thingy XD Which was so seamless and cool! I’m wondering what was your process for figuring it out? Did you look into lore or anything? Rn, I’m writing smth with a similar plot of someone modern being thrown into Middle Earth (miraculously, I ran into your fic, which has helped me a ton!) but they’re thrown into Mirkwood instead. I’m stumped on how can I believably have my character communicate with elves? Any ideas, suggestions or somewhere you could point me?

I’d appreciate it a ton and sorry if this question is convoluted!

- Mithril Anon

Oh my gosh thank you so much! I'm so glad you like the fic so far and I'm flattered you reached out to me about yours.

I definitely took the easy way out with the language gap! I wasn't personally very interested in writing extensive translation/language learning scenes, so if I hadn't run into the convenient wizard-needs-her-to-speak-Westron-asap loophole, I probably wouldn't have distinguished them at all.

(Slight spoilers but not really) I did consider later on in my fic that maybe once Saruman loses his powers and Gandalf takes his staff, maybe Bee would lose her innate ability to understand Westron- but again, I didn't really want to go there in my fic, I'm lazy, so that plot twist never came to be.

I can try to offer some advice for how to go about it in your fic- and I know there are people who follow me who read modern-OC-in-middle-earth fics, so if any of y'all read through this enormous answer and have anything to add, please do!

The main ways I've seen authors go about it are

You can have some magical explanation hand-wave it away (what I did). For instance, I've seen authors have the Valar grant the OC language skills to translate between their native language and Westron as they hop over to Middle Earth. Maybe they have a magical amulet or something. Go crazy XD

You can have your character learn Westron from scratch- it's an entirely new Tolkien-approved language and your poor OC knows none of it. Of course that's super time consuming and can slow down a lot of other aspects of your plot (your OC can't rush off to go adventuring or fall in love when they can't communicate with anyone!). But if it's done right, you can develop characters, worldbuilding, and relationships in those scenes. I vaguely remember the fic Home with the Fairies doing this really well.

You can just ignore that Tolkien wrote Westron/Common to be different from English, and just have them be interchangeable. Frankly I like this just fine, I know a lot of other readers who do too- and what Tolkien doesn't know won't hurt him ;) I doubt you'd get any complaints about it from readers (and if you do, you can tell them ol' scylla wants to speak to em)

Since your OC will be interacting with elves, that adds a whole second language into the mix, which is a LOT to deal with. So I'd lean toward option 3, so your OC can at least speak to any of the elves who know Westron (Thranduil and Legolas definitely do, and I'm guessing a lot of other well-educated elves or anyone who has to travel, trade, or go near their borders do too).

So at that point you could have your OC learn elvish at a more comfortable pace, and the plot doesn't have to be on hold while they learn.

If not a lot of the Mirkwood elves your OC meets know Westron or speak it very well, maybe there are resources in Thranduil's library that could help them (you just know he's got a fancy library in those caves). Or maybe an elf your OC befriended could take them to speak to other characters who do know more Westron, like prisoners in the dungeons, border guards, tradesmen in Dale, etc. You could get some good plot development out of that, depending on where you want your fic to go and who you want your OC to interact with.

And of course the way they teach your OC elvish can also help drive the plot forward- I've read tons of fics that have the love interest confess their love knowing that the OC won't understand, or translate a romantic song or tragic poem and oh there's so many parallels between us and the song, isn't it sad?? Maybe the language gap could be used to keep or learn secrets, or give your OC a leg up in Mirkwood society since they'll be able to communicate better with the men of Dale than a lot of the elves can.

Sorry this answer is so long and rambly, but I hope it helps a bit! You'll have to tag me when you start posting your fic so I can read it!!

Omg I just remembered as I was about to hit send that canonically, the spiders in Mirkwood do in fact speak Westron, so if all else fails, your OC can talk with them XD (I'd read the hell out of that fic)

#answered!

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beritybaker · 20 hours ago

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Cookie Boat Island

I'm trying something new. So, I've been trying to publish some short original fiction on Substack once a month, but since I've started using tumblr again, I think it might be a better place for it! I'll still publish over there, but from now on I'm putting a post here, too. 💜

Also note that this is just the first part of this story. The rest will come next month!

DD is tired of life on the tiny island she calls home. She needs something new. Genre: Rom-Com | Word Count: 5,998 | Substack

I requested a phone interview. But, even though you wouldn’t know it by my surroundings or the people who occupy them, it’s the twenty-first century, so the publication insisted on using video.

“Are y—still—ere?” the interviewer asks, and I almost shut my laptop right then and there.

Instead, I put on my brightest fake smile and muster, “Yes, sorry. My signal is still having trouble.” I resist adding That’s why I suggested just using the audio in what my brother would call my Killer Sunshine voice.

“Miss Gree—? I thi—we’ve got—ad signal. Ar—sti—ere?” she repeats.

“Yes, I’m—”

“I—sorr—ink—might need to—other time.”

“Wait, I’m—!”

It’s too late. The screen has gone from pixelated blotches of a woman in her comfortable Nashville office to my home screen before I have the chance to protest. I sigh and slam the laptop, then shed my blazer and chuck it on the floor in the hall closet, where it joins the rest of my outdated businesswear.

The T-shirt I’ve been wearing underneath probably wouldn’t be appropriate for a job interview if my ISP was capable of a higher-definition picture, but I knew from the beginning that there was no chance of that. All I have to do is put on my sneakers and shove my house key into my pocket before I’m out the door.

It’s not a long walk to Harry’s Cod House, but the way I drag my feet, it may as well be the Green Mile. It’s a full ten minutes of self pity littered across the island by the time I slump over the threshold.

Deacon greets me in his familiar manner. “Welcome to—! Oh, it’s just you.”

I respond as I always do. “Gee, thanks.”

Deacon’s my brother, a year older than me, and has worked at the Cod House for longer than anyone else on the payroll. It’s not a busy place, even though it’s the only restaurant on the island. Deac’s one of three servers, and one of them—our oldest friend, Jack—doubles as a bartender.

“You want a sandwich?” Deacon asks. As usual.

“Nah. Gimme some fries,” I reply. As usual.

He shouts the order to Mike back in the kitchen and sits across from me at my usual table. “How’d the interview go?”

“How’s the bandwidth at the house?” I say, eyebrows raised.

He grimaces. “That bad, huh?”

I rest my forehead in my hands and speak down to the laminated placemat, with its decades-old menu. “It lasted two minutes, and all she seemed to understand was that I’m a photographer.”

“Didn’t she already—?” He cuts himself off when I give him a look. “Oh. Right.”

“That’s strike three, I guess,” I say. “Maybe I can sell the nudes I took for that ‘Outlook of the Model’ class.”

Deacon makes a face. “They’re not your best work.”

I blink at him. “How the hell would you know that?”

He unconsciously glances at the closed, empty bar, and I remember the time I lent Jack my laptop a few weeks ago.

My eyes go wide. “You guys didn’t—he’s—you’re my brother!” I hiss at him, aghast.

“It wasn’t on purpose!” He waves his arms in front of him like he thinks I’ll hit him. He might be right; I haven’t decided.

“I’m gonna have a talk with that asshole.”

“I swear it wasn’t on purpose,” Deacon repeats, insistent. “The thumbnail looked kind of like the picture he’d just downloaded, and I—”

“Oh my god,” I mutter. “My brother and his boyfriend have seen my nudes. This day can’t get any worse.”

“Shh!” He nearly leaps across the table at me as Mike, a balding thirtysomething with perpetual dark eye-circles, approaches with my fries.

“Just thought I’d bring these over since nobody bothered to pick ’em up at the window,” he says.

His glare has no effect on Deacon, who winks. “Thanks, bud. I’ll put you in my will.”

Mike turns and walks back to the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron and still grumbling.

“When are you gonna start telling people?” I ask as soon as the door swings shut behind him. “Everybody on this island loves you and Jack to death. They’re not gonna care if you’re gay, especially if you’re gay for each other.”

“I’ll tell them when they stop talking to Uncle Dave.”

I snort. “So when he’s dead.”

“Pretty much.”

As ridiculous as I think he’s being, I get it. It’s a cliché, but everybody knows everybody on Cookie Boat—and it would probably put a damper on family stuff if Dave suddenly had a target to vent all his unresolved issues towards.

“Just…don’t sell your nudes,” Deacon says, steering the conversation back to me. “You may be good at taking pictures of other people and shit, but you do not know your own angles, girl.”

“It was a joke,” I groan. A bad one, but a joke.

“What are you gonna do?”

I sigh. “I don’t know. Keep working at the store, I guess. Keep freelancing when I can. But I’ve gotta get out of here for good, Deac. I have to.”

“Why?” he asks, but he knows the answer, so I don’t bother giving it.

I pick at the edge of the menu, where it’s splitting into two separate pieces of plastic and exposing the corner of the dessert selection.

“DD, can I be real with you for a minute?”

I look up at him, kind of surprised. Deacon’s one of the goofiest people on the planet. If he’s got something serious to talk about, it really is serious.

“I don’t think either one of us is ever gonna get out of here,” he goes on. “But I don’t really think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re Cookie Boat’s special boy.”

“As if everybody doesn’t adore you, too,” he scoffs. “I’m just saying. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing, being on Cookie Boat for the rest of our lives.”

I don’t know how to respond. I want to tell him there’s no way I’m staying on this godforsaken island for more than five years, tops. Instead, I nod. “I guess not.”

Deacon smiles. “Wanna go to the Festival with us later?”

I squint at him, finally grinning, myself. “What a dumb question. Of course.”

Around fifty years ago, Cookie Boat Island didn’t have a name. There were families who’d lived here for generations, but nobody had bothered to give the place a proper christening.

There were attempts at naming it. One time Mom took Deac and me to the museum in City Hall to see all those documents. But none of the old names had stuck. Then, one day in the 70s, a cargo ship carrying supplies for Byrd’s cookies in Savannah ran aground on the southern coast. It was the island’s claim to fame for about five minutes, and in the midst of all that glory, the city council voted that very week to make its new nickname official. The Cookie Boat Festival is held every September to commemorate the event.

I can’t help but enjoy myself when I walk through the fairgrounds at the park. Deacon walks beside me, munching on kettle corn and glancing around.

“Why don’t you just text him?” I suggest after a while.

“I already did. He didn’t answer. He’s been trying to leave his phone at home more often.”

“Jack and his hippie soul,” I murmur, unconsciously searching for him, too. It’s not so much that I want to find him, even if he is my best friend. I just want to be prepared for when Deacon inevitably abandons me.

When we pass Max Walton in the dunk tank, Deacon averts his eyes. “I don’t wanna see that.”

“Why? Max is cute.”

“Exactly. He’s cute, but he’s the worst kind of dude. I don’t want to know if he’s got abs, it’ll make me like him more.”

“God, you’re shallow.” I don’t bother mentioning the hour he spends at the bathroom vanity every morning.

Right on cue, Deacon pulls out a compact mirror and starts fussing with his hair. “Your point?”

He’s a pretty guy, my brother. Much prettier than me, I’ll be the first to admit. Not feminine—just gorgeous, with these green eyes that feel like they’re looking right into your soul without seeing anything interesting, and an almost eerily symmetrical face. Meanwhile, I’m stuck with the crooked version of his very same nose and twice the number of freckles dotted across it. As all these thoughts spin through my head for the millionth time, I think, Maybe I’m just as shallow as he is.

Behind us, a voice mumbles, “Your hair’s fine.” We turn to see Jack making his way toward us, and I automatically take a step back so he can stand between us. “Hey, DD.”

“Settle something for us, Jack,” Deacon says without preamble. “Is it worth knowing whether Max Walton has a six-pack?”

Jack purses his lips. “Depends on whether you like a six-pack.”

Deacon narrows his eyes. “You do, right?” When Jack smirks and shrugs, Deacon starts messing with his hair again.

“Y’all wanna go to the concert?” Jack says.

“Jimmy’s back this year, huh?” I ask facetiously, because I know full well he’ll be back for the Cookie Boat Festival every year until he’s dead and buried. There’s been a rumor going around that he refuses to sign any contract that ties him up at the end of the summer.

Jim Gordon, who I grew up knowing as just Jack’s mild-mannered older brother Jimmy, is the only person in the history of Cookie Boat, before or after it was known as such, to make a name for himself. As one of those rare frontman bassists, he became a heartthrob in his twenties and now, at thirty-five, he’s a bona fide rockstar, on the path to legendary status.

Every year, though, he comes back to his humble beginnings at the Cookie Boat Festival for a sort of secret concert. It’s an open secret, of course—there’s no keeping the fact of his absence away from his more diehard fans—but the fact is, Cookie Boat is such a tiny place that even when people find out about it, they usually still have a really hard time actually finding it. So Jimmy flies his band into Atlanta, then they drive to Savannah, down through Tybee, and take the unsanctioned ferry that Mr. Patterson runs for five dollars a head. Then they play the biggest show Cookie Boat’s dinky little beachside amphitheater has ever seen.

We walk to the show together, Deacon and me still on either side of Jack. He’s careful to keep the same distance from each of us, but I can tell he just wants to reach out and take Deac’s hand. I puff out my cheeks and sigh.

“Jack, what are you doing later?” Deacon asks casually, as if he doesn’t know exactly what they’ll both be doing.

Jack, just as casually, says, “Probably just going home and watching TV. I started Parks and Rec from the beginning again.”

“That’s my favorite show,” Deacon says. His aloof tone is starting to crack. I roll my eyes.

“Why don’t you come watch it with me, then?” Jack murmurs, and the sudden shift to sultry in his tone makes me wrinkle my nose.

“Goddammit, you two. Get a room,” I mutter, and they both glare at me. They don’t have a lot of time to act offended, though, because there’s a heavy guitar chord, and the lights between where we stand at the edge of the grass and the open-air stage on the sand start to flash psychedelic colors. A joyful scream erupts from the crowd in front of it, which mostly consists of my old friends’ moms and some of the teenagers who were too young to have known Jimmy before he was Jim.

We hang back on the grass, taking a seat on a beach towel Jack brought, and watch the first two songs in the set without speaking. Then, with hardly any warning even to myself, I nudge Jack with my shoulder and say, “How’d he get out of here?”

Jack and Deacon both turn to look at me—Jack like I’ve got two heads, Deac like a concerned mother. “I don’t know. Talent, I guess. And hard work,” Jack replies.

I scoff. “Hard work and talent, huh? Is that all it takes?”

Jack nudges me back. “What’s up?” he says, and it’s a pretty heavy question, coming from him. He doesn’t believe in small talk; never has.

Jack’s a writer, and he’s one of those writers who thinks everything you say and do needs to have some kind of special meaning. Even when we were kids, he was always the quietest kid in class, the one who sat in the corner reading at recess because he didn’t see any real purpose in gossiping about Katie kissing Tyler by the monkey bars. As he got older, he developed a way of talking that makes small talk feel important, so that you end up talking about your parents’ divorce instead of the weather. When he says What’s up? it means something more like What’s wrong, and how can I help?

“She feels stuck on Cookie Boat,” Deacon cuts in.

“So leave,” Jack says. That’s more classic Jack Gordin: simplifying the most complicated things by cutting to the heart of them and ignoring the rest.

“I can’t just leave. I’ve got Mom, and you guys, and I’m not really in a position financially to—”

“Then don’t leave,” he interrupts, and I feel like punching him.

“Jack,” Deacon warns, seeing the signs.

“Listen, Dallon,” Jack goes on, and I know he’s more than serious, because people barely ever use my full first name, including him. “Sometimes you gotta just stick it out. As much as I hate to say it, I don’t have all the answers. All I know is I’m here on Cookie Boat Island, and I’m here for as long as I want to be. And so are you.”

I look down, the urge to hit him subsiding. “I just…want something else. But I feel like I’ll never find it here.”

“Plus you hate it,” Deacon puts in, and his tone snaps my head up to look at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

“No, tell me what it’s supposed to mean,” I demand.

He sighs. “You’ve always hated Cookie Boat. The beach, the people—all of it.”

“That’s not true.”

“Fine. Sure.”

Jack, seeing a fight coming on, leans forward to physically separate us. “Whatever,” he says. “Point is, maybe you are stuck, D. But it won’t be forever.”

It’s not an awful thought, but not exactly a comforting one, either. What does it mean to be stuck on Cookie Boat Island, especially if it’s just for now? What’s the end point of that? Will it be when I finally get enough of this place and abandon everyone? When I finally save up enough money to get a shitty apartment in Atlanta? When Mom dies?

I look over at the two of them, their pinkies surreptitiously touching where they’re spread out on the towel between them, and it hits me: they don’t get it.

How could they? They’ve got all they need on the island. Jack can write his poetry from anywhere, and even with Deacon’s acting dreams, it’s not like he’s far from the Georgia TV boom. Plus, they’ve got each other—the adventure of being in love and constantly sneaking off together that’s so second-nature and taken for granted, because they’ve had it for such a long time.

Something new. That’s what I’m missing. I know this town backwards and forwards. I’ve taken pictures of every inch of it in every season, and I’ve had my fill of it. There’s only so much you can do on a little rock out in the ocean when it only takes forty-five minutes to cross the whole thing on foot.

After a while, Jack gets bored of watching his brother play, and he and Deacon disappear. I roll up his towel and tuck it under my arm, then head over to the little booth where Ms. Thompson has sold homemade candy apples for a dollar each since the Festival started. When I approach, I don’t even have to say anything. She holds out an apple on a stick, smothered with her signature chocolate-caramel sauce and rolled in crushed peanut butter cookies.

“Here ya go, honey,” she says. “On the house.” She gives everyone their first apple on the house. The only reason she charges anything at all after that is to keep the parents of Cookie Boat from coming after her with their children’s dental bills.

“Thanks, Ms. Thompson. You’re the best,” I say, and I take a bite with no regard for how sticky my face will be later, just to show her how much I mean it.

I walk down the path between rows of similar booths for a minute, then plop down on the first empty bench I see. It happens to be right across from the booth with the duck pond, which is really just one of the tables from the church basement with a big steel trough in front of it, plastic ducks bobbing up and down and floating in a gentle whirlpool. There’s a swarm of kids in a rough but respectable line, murmuring among themselves and pointing at the things they can see on the very top of the loot buckets behind the table.

Yet another thing that’s stayed the same since the Festival’s conception, Father Percy stands next to the buckets, a kind old man performing a robotic dance: bending down to take the latest duck drawn by the kid at the front of the line, standing up straight to see the number in the light from the carousel behind him, and bending down again to retrieve something from the proper bucket. The first prize I ever remember winning was a Powerpuff Girls baseball cap from the Cookie Boat Festival duck pond. Father Percy, a mere forty-eight years old then, had placed it snugly on my head with a grin and turned to the next kid in line, just like he does now.

That was twenty years ago. Yet he with his duck pond, and Ms. Thompson with her candy apples, and Mr. Vally with his hot dog stand, and Mrs. Vally with her adjacent flower booth for teenagers to buy a peony or a daffodil for their date, and the fifty other booths that line the outer edges of the park and create corridors between them, remain. Not a single one has changed in my entire lifetime. Once, Mr. Harper tried to get his jerky booth moved away from Miss Perkins’s booth hawking preserves because “she fills people up with jelly and then they don’t have any room for my stuff!” but that caused an uproar, and a year later the two of them were married. Even the booths whose attendants have died since the first Festival are kept up by their kids, whether willingly or out of a sense of obligation, I wouldn’t know.

Maybe some of them find it comforting, having a specific place they know they’ll be for a weekend every summer. Why they need that when the rest of the island doesn’t change at all either is another question I couldn’t answer if I tried.

I watch the kids at the duck pond while I eat my candy apple, little siblings and even some offspring of the people I went to school with, in what looks like a line that never ends. But it will end; there’s only so many people on Cookie Boat Island to have kids and keep that line going.

At least there are any people to keep the line going at all. It’s incredible to me how many families have stayed here for so long. Even the transplants—tourists who found the island by accident the same way the Cookie Boat did and fell in love with it—are a total mystery to me. It’s just sandy enough to be a beach town, even though the weather turns it into a swamp sometimes. When you’re not wading through marshland that wasn’t there the night before to get to work, you’re rinsing stray sand from your ankles at one of the foot faucets placed strategically every twenty feet.

I can forgive the stagnant culture, but if there’s anything I really, truly hate in this world, it’s sand. I’ve got such an aversion to the stuff that I can’t bear to see it and think of it at the same time, so without even meaning to, I look up.

Over Father Percy’s head, I spot my favorite thing about the island. It’s the one thing I really love, in fact. As much as I despise the sand, I love the Ferris wheel. The Big Cookie.

Putting the cheesy name aside, it’s the most beautiful thing. It runs every weekend, though there aren’t a ton of people who use it that often. But you can find me at the top right at sunset, every Saturday night.

When Mom first got sick, I was a sophomore in high school. Deacon and I each got a job for spending money, since all the medical bills and trips to the mainland meant we wouldn’t get an allowance. That was when Deac started at the Cod House, and that was when I fell in love with the Big Cookie. I was its keeper, just one link in a chain of teenagers who have run the thing. I earned three dollars an hour, but I would’ve done it for two bucks a shift.

Running the Big Cookie was nothing compared to riding it. It only costs a dime, because it’s supposed to be one of those rustic charm deals, with a turn-of-the-century feel and paint wearing away in several places. A couple years ago the town council decided to make the ten cent ticket price permanent, because it wasn’t like ten cents was even all that much in the 80s, when it was first brought to the island from a defunct fun fair in Alabama.

Almost without a thought, I reach into my pocket and fiddle with the dime I stowed there before leaving the house. Then I stare at the flashing lights, illuminating the old-fashioned benches swinging gently with the wheel’s movement and the cookies of every variety—tiny from a distance, but much larger up close—that were affixed to its steel beams by the high school’s senior council when Mom was vice president.

I stand up so quickly and suddenly that I seem to startle the McCarrins at their arts and crafts booth, but I don’t pay them any mind. I’ve got the Big Cookie in my sights, and there’s nothing that can stand between me and the love of my small, boring life.

As I round the corner to the Midway and get closer, still thumbing the dime in my pocket, I see something I’m not used to at the base of the Big Cookie. There’s a line of people waiting to get on. Granted, it’s not a very long line, but it’s a line, nonetheless. I’m torn between resentment at the invasion of my favorite place and pure joy that it’s getting the recognition it deserves.

The teenagers in front of me joke with the operator as he brings the wheel to a stop and lets some of them on, then it starts back up to bring the next two benches into the loading zone. A few more people line up behind me, including a couple having a playful argument. Their discussion continues all the way to the front of the line, and they only stop when the kid running the wheel turns to those of us left and says, “There are four spots left…” He looks nervously at me, obviously alone, then at the three people behind me.

I shrug and wave my hand toward the nearest empty bench. “Y’all go ahead.”

“You sure?” the girl behind me says.

“Yeah, it’s no problem.” I smirk at the guy behind the couple, the last in line. “You don’t mind the single riders’ line, do you?”

“The what?” he says, looking a little bewildered. His vowels bubble up and his consonants take on a gentle lilt, and I think he must not be from around here, or the South in general. He’s a little too pasty for it, to start with.

“You don’t mind riding with a stranger?” I clarify.

“Oh. Sure.”

“Sure you mind, or sure you don’t?” I tease.

“I don’t mind,” he says quickly, with that same hard-to-place accent.

I have to say, I’m intrigued. If it wasn’t clear already, strangers on Cookie Boat are few and far between, and his is a face I’ve never seen before. We board the last bench together, pull the safety bar down in front of us, and the teen in charge starts the wheel up.

I let it make a full rotation before I make any conversation. When I do, I try to make it simple, but it’s hard not to sound eager. “You’re not from around here,” I say, as casually as I can.

“Nope,” he says. It’s short, but not unfriendly.

“Where are you from?”

“‘Across the pond,’ I think ye lot say.”

I stare at him. “As in England?”

“Galway.”

“As in Ireland?” I sputter. The casual pretense is lost.

He laughs a little. “Yeah, as in Ireland. Ye know your geography, eh?”

I can hear it now, the little tongue flips and vowel variants that confirm it. Either that, or he’s just puling my leg. He’s ridiculously good at faking if he is.

“Seán,” he says, and he holds his far hand across his chest so I can shake it.

“Dallon,” I reply, accepting it.

“Irish name. Nice.”

There’s no stopping the flush that creeps into my cheeks. “People call me DD.”

He seems to consider it for a minute. “I like Dallon.”

We’ve done another rotation by now, and I notice we’re about to lose our view of the evening ocean just before we do. “Shit.”

He furrows his brow. “What?”

“We missed the view.”

He grins, still confused. “Won’t we go ’round again?”

“Of course. There’s just only so many times you get to see it.”

“You live here, right?”

I stare blankly at him yet again. Of course I live here; no one vacations at Cookie Boat.

He must get the message just from the look on my face. “Okay, I’ll stop distractin’ ya. We’re almost at the top again.”

We watch the waves roll over each other, continuously dousing the blaze created by the moon and the Festival lights on the ocean’s surface, until we’re on the backside again.

I look at Seán again and notice his hands—thin fingers, nails trimmed neatly but caked with reddish dirt or dye or paint, and gripping the safety bar across his lap like a vise. I notice it on his face, too; he’d been pale before we got on, but now he’s almost green. There’s a look of awe in his eyes that I expected, but it’s hiding right behind a dusty film of terror.

“Are you okay?” I ask cautiously.

“What?” he says, his head turning so quickly it looks painful. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

It’s impossible to believe him. The gray pallor and white-knuckled grasp on the bar are one thing, but the shake in his voice doesn’t do him any favors, either.

We’re silent for another two rotations, and he finally allows, “Okay, I’m mostly fine.” He still looks like he’s going to vomit.

The wheel stops, with us near the top. His knuckles turn impossibly whiter.

“Not fine anymore,” he breathes.

I look away from his hands and up at his face, alarmed. His eyes are wide, staring at the steel frame of the Big Cookie, or perhaps beyond them to the horizon. Or, hell, maybe he’s not looking at either one of them at all, instead simply seeing the horror of being on a low-thrill, family-friendly amusement park ride.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, automatically scooting to the very end of the bench in case he does throw up.

“Don’t move!” he barks, and it’s just desperate enough to make me freeze without thinking about it. He seems to realize he shouted and sheepishly mumbles, “Please.”

I squint at him, suspicious. “Are you…afraid of the Big Cookie?”

It’s enough for him to snap out of his daze, if only a little bit. He glares. “Yes. It’s a Ferris wheel.”

“And…you’re afraid of Ferris wheels.” The words are halfway between a question and a statement, because I know the answer, but I don’t mean for it to sound as condescending as it comes out.

“Well, I tought I grew out of—”

He’s cut off by the lurch of the Cookie starting up again, rounding another couple benches into the loading bay. It seems to take him a moment to realize he’s leapt clear across ours to clutch my shoulders. His arms are curled around us both, his legs pulled almost all the way in, like he’s a mystery-solving stoner and I’m his unwitting Great Dane.

He quickly withdraws himself, once again gripping the safety bar, and now blushing furiously under the pallor. He still doesn’t slide to his side of the bench, though, instead crowding me against the metal siding.

I raise my eyebrows, but don’t say anything.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and I can see he really means it, but he’s still not moving. “This was a mistake.”

We stop again, at double the height than before.

He closes his eyes and starts to mutter, “It’s fine. I’m fine. You’re fine! You’re gonna be fine.” Barely-audible variants of the same sentiment cross his lips over and over until the wheel starts again, and this time I’m ready—I don’t jump at all when he throws his arms around me.

Again, he redirects his hands to the bar, this time with the determination of a man gluing a broken ceramic pot back together. I’m helpless to the smirk that tips up the corners of my mouth. “You’re gonna be fine,” I parrot back to him, not mocking, but not exactly pure comfort either.

The process repeats itself twice more before we round the last bend into the station, and he tries to shove me out before I’ve even had the chance to open the safety door. When I manage to get it unlatched, he vaults out like it’s an Olympic event and he’s going for a world record. It would be pretty damn impressive if he didn’t also trip over his own feet and fall flat on his face.

I curse under my breath, because blood immediately starts gushing all over the wooden platform. A toddler standing nearby starts screaming, and the kid at the controls looks mortified.

Seán tires to repeat his mantra yet again, to the strangers this time. “I’m fine,” he says, but it comes out more like “I’b fide” as he tries to stem the flow of blood from his nose with his shirt collar. “I’b just clumbsy,” he tells the crowd that has started to gather.

I take hold of his arm and mutter, “C’mon,” before dragging him down the steps to the grass and over to the first aid tent in the middle of the park.

“Lordy be, what happened to you?” Lindsay McNeal—the only certified medical professional on Cookie Boat Island—says in amazement as we approach.

“Trib’t an’ fell,” Seán explains.

“On his face,” I confirm.

Lindsay reels. “Yikes. You’re tall, too. That’s a nasty fall.”

“What’ve you got for him, Linz?” Lindsay and I were pretty good friends in high school, mostly because we were two of the few Cookie Boaters who didn’t want to spend our entire lives here.

“The works, D,” she replies, and I remember again how little nursing school actually changed her. Sure, she willingly came back to Cookie Boat, and she constantly tries to make me see it isn’t as bad as we thought it was when we were fifteen, but we still have a lot in common. Particularly the easy way we speak with each other.

“The works? He fell on his face, not on a pizza.”

“With all this tomato sauce, you coulda fooled me,” she remarks, already wiping the blood away from his face. His nose has stopped bleeding, but it’s swollen to twice the size it was ten minutes ago.

“Need some ice?” I ask him, but Lindsay’s the one who nods.

“There’s a ton in the cooler. Bags next to it.”

“Theks, you guys,” he says, still not quite ready to hum his Ms and Ns the way most people do.

“Don’t you think it’s kind of ironic?” I say as I fill a plastic bag with half-melted ice from Lindsay’s cooler.

“What?” she asks, but I shake my head.

“Have this one tell you.” I hand the ice pack to Seán.

He takes it and grudgingly addresses her puzzled look. “I paddicked when I couddit get off the Ferris wheel fast eduff.”

She pulls her rag away from his cheek, looking even more confused. “The Big Cookie?”

“He’s scared of it,” I stage-whisper.

“Scared of the Big Cookie,” she repeats, as if she finally understands, but she still doesn’t believe it.

Seán nods solemnly, daring her to say it again.

True to form, she obliges. “You fell on your face because you were scared of the Big Cookie.”

“It’s not just the Big Cookie!” he whines. “Ferris wheels are fookin’ dangerous. Kids fall out of ’em.”

“And you’re, what…twenty-five?” Lindsay says, and I can tell she’s incredibly amused.

“Twenty-four, beggin’ your pardon.”

“So what are you worried about?” I ask, and he sighs like he’s trying to exorcise a demon from his lungs.

“I don’t know why I’m so scared of ’em. I just am.”

“Why’d you get on the Cookie in the first place, then?”

It seems like every ounce of blood that didn’t escape from his nose is in his cheeks and his forehead now. It takes him a while to answer. “A friend from SCAD told me I should.”

“Do you happen to have a crush on this friend?” Lindsay asks, and I almost slap my own forehead. She’s always been a little too direct. I know she sees the look on my face when she adds, “What?” and I just shake my head.

His blush deepens. “No.”

“Lies,” she hisses good-naturedly. And right in his face, too, since she’s now inspecting the swelling on either side of his nose.

“Is it broken, doc?” I cut in, sparing him the pain of having to fend off her ridicule.

“Nope. Just a balloon, I think,” she replies, leaning back against a heavy tent pole and tossing her gloves into a nearby trash can. “It’ll be fine as long as you keep that ice on it for a while. And keep an eye on it in case I’m wrong.”

“Thanks, Linz.”

“Don’t mention it, Double-D.”

Not entirely knowing why, I follow Seán away from the first aid tent, and he says, “Double-D?” The ice bag is blocking his mouth, but I can still hear his wry smirk.

“Don’t you dare call me that. Ever. Only Linz can call me that.”

“Does she call you that because…?”

“My name is Dallon Daisy. Fuck off.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Alright, then.” He starts to walk away.

Again, without the slightest clue why I would, I jog to catch up with his long strides and fall into step with him. “Listen—I’m sorry you fell on your face.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Okay, sure. But at least let me buy you something. A beer? You like ice cream?”

He looks genuinely insulted. “Who the feck don’t like ice cream?”

#original fiction #short story #short fiction #romcom #author stuff

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murkrowsrevenge · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter 2 - Tom

I take a deep breath and let out an even deeper sigh as the winds of fall rush through me. Another winter, but this one feels different. Change is coming.

I leave my jacket open, feeling the breeze cut through the layers. It’s been a tough few months, and the chill is invigorating. Between Hannah breaking up with me in August, the hockey league folding in September, putting Garfield down in October, and having the flu for my birthday earlier this month…

Anything to feel alive and well.

I start to head over to Jack’s for what’s become a weekly coffee date with Evelyn. We don’t hang out or even talk much otherwise, but I treasure the comfort we share in our friendship’s routine. On the short walk, I see a couple of the familiar faces… the middle-aged couple that always wears matching hats… an old classmate from college… Hannah’s friend, Molly… Molly’s ex, Brandon… a pair of local bartenders… all characters in the tapestry of our quaint, little city.

I get to Jack’s and see that Evelyn already got her coffee and is seated at our favorite table, directly in front of the plant wall and next to one of the massive windows. I put my backpack down and greet her. “Well, I’ll be damned. This might be the first time you’re up and at ‘em before I am.”

“I’d make a habit out of it if sleep wasn’t the better choice by a long shot. Why did you drag me here so early again?”

I set my backpack and taunt Evelyn as I walk toward the counter. “No no no. Don’t you dare put this on me. You’re the one who suggested we come early since your yoga class got cancelled. I was more than willing to meet you at our regular time.” I give a smart-assed grin to remind her that my rage is completely unserious. I order my usual and feel a sense of townie pride as I literally order “the usual” with Hayden the barista. It feels good to be a regular. I wait, get my drink, and join Evelyn for some updates and work.

“I have some news,” she begins. “Ravi and I are official now.” Evelyn and Ravi have been in a friends-with-benefits type situation for the past year, and she’s offered him a lot of time to figure out what he wants.

“That’s great. I know you two have been working that out for a while. What changed?”

“I think he was held back by some pretty standard commitment issues. He knows he likes me, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to open the door to settling down, as if that was what anyone was expecting of him. We talked about it. We haven’t been seeing anyone else. We’re doing more than just hooking up. He’s met my friends and I’ve spent a lot of time with his friends and family. It just sort of hit him that he was ready.”

I shrug. “Hey, if it works it works. How are you feeling about it?”

“Well, like I said… the difference is in name only, but I definitely feel more at ease. How has dating been for you?”

I lean back in my chair, stretch my legs out, and lace my fingers together to rest on top of my head. “It sucks, Evelyn. I think I’m finally over Hannah and able to get back out there, but then I remember that I’m awful at all of this.”

I wait for Evelyn to respond, but she just takes a sip of her coffee, eyeing me up and down from the lid of her cup with raised eyebrows.

Sensing the silence, I continue, “I don’t want to be that guy who bothers women when they would rather be left alone. When I bludgeon myself enough to actually say hello to someone, I almost always put my foot in my mouth… and when I actually dredge up enough charm to actually get someone to like me, I get way too ahead of myself and screw things up.”

Evelyn stops me. “You have to stop thinking about all this so much. You’re not creepy. You’re a good-looking man. You’re emotionally intelligent, and you have stuff going on in your life.” She chuckles, “the bar is so low for men, that you literally have to do nothing more than get out of your way and you become the area’s most eligible bachelor.”

I take a deep breath and let out a sigh. “If only we could figure out a way to do that.”

Evelyn and I drop the topic and talk about work, neighborhood events, plans for the upcoming winter, some local gossip, personal projects, and all the spaces in between. I find my eyes wandering the various women coming into the shop during the moments of silence. It doesn’t feel like I’m leering, but the conversation about dating and connection has me feeling this gross combination of motivated, inspired, and lonely… “romantically horny” as we’ve dubbed it.

This woman’s married. That one’s married. One with her boyfriend. One tuning out the world with her headphones. One with her wife and kids. One picking up a mobile order. Married. Unavailable. Married. Unavailable.

I nearly roll my eyes at myself over the futility. Even if the girl of my dreams could walk in, I probably wouldn’t say anything to her anyway.

Be careful what you wish for I suppose.

No sooner did I snap out of this fugue state than I see her. She enters with some woman I’ve seen around town before, but have never put a name to. She has a slight wave to the reddish-brown hair cascading over her shoulders as it tussles with the breeze that follows her inside. As she wanders around Jack’s, I’m able to make out an absolute splendor of soft, gentle, and modest features, emphasized by her fawning over the space within the coffee shop. She’s a bit shorter than average, with the poise of a dancer and the curves of a lover.

I don’t realize I’m gawking until she looks directly at me. My mind reels within a nanosecond, “oh shit, oh fuck, oh shit, oh fuck, oh shit, oh fuck – LOOK AWAY”.

I feel a jolt throughout my body and look away. Evelyn, who was talking about the new and – tragically – mediocre ramen shop, taunts me, “Come on, Tom. It wasn’t anything special, but the food wasn’t that bad. So you wouldn’t go back, you big baby?”

“Sorry I got distracted for a moment. What were you saying? Something about ramen?” Evelyn senses that I wasn’t distracted by my own thoughts and begins to turn around. “Wait! Don’t look,” I basically scream it under my breath. “Don’t look now, but there’s this woman waiting over at the drink counter. Do you know her?”

Evelyn makes her patented fake-stretch-to-turn-around move and turns back to me. “I haven’t seen her before.” She stalls after seeing me deflate. “But she’s really pretty and over by herself. You should go say hello.”

I look back over at her and now she’s looking at me. I see her avert her gaze as I avert mine. “Oh yeah. No can do. Not going to do that.”

“Dude, come on. What do you have to lose?”

“Everything.” We keep exchanging glances as my mind is playing through every possible outcome – most of them terrible, of course – of me approaching this woman. Maybe she has a boyfriend. Maybe she’s just creeped out at me. Maybe she’s interested?

Couldn’t be. Not her.

Then our eyes lock. It feels like an eternity, like I’m strapped down and locked on a la Clockwork Orange. I’m paralyzed, peering directly into her eyes. They’re a lovely hazel. In them, I see something different now. Her eyes are filled with curiosity, warmth, ease, patience, interest.

After maybe the fifth hour of this madness, I feel myself warm up and a smile comes across my face. I feel like I’m beaming, but who knows. Then we have sweet relief as her companion returns. I return to Evelyn and let out the biggest sigh of my life.

“So… ramen? Me, you, and Ravi?”

“Yeah sure thing,” only partially aware of what I’ve agreed to.

The two women leave and as they do, I can’t take my eyes off of her as she appears to move effortlessly throughout space. As she reaches the door, she turns and gives me one last look, this time with a smile.

I melt, and she’s gone.

I come back to the conversation with Evelyn, recount the whirlwind I experienced over these few minutes, receive an appropriate amount of clowning, and go back to our quality time. I leave and take my weekly tour of the Farmer’s Market. I go back Albany, go for a run, take a nap, get ready for friend’s birthday, go out, come home, and go to sleep. I wake up, tidy my apartment, run my errands, make lunch for the week, and go to hockey.

The entire time, some part of me keeps drifting to her.

And I go to sleep, ready for the week ahead, it hits me.

I haven’t thought of Hanah at all. I’m ready.

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poisonvdhonvy · 3 months ago

Text

Sterling hears her words, and they land like a proper kick in the gut, but not in a bad way. It’s the sort of truth he’s been legging it from for years, and now it’s staring him right in the face, no dodging it. “Yeah, you’re bang on,” he says, his voice quieter now, less sharp round the edges. “Didn’t know what I was missin’ ‘cause they never gave me the chance to see it. It’s mental, innit? Growin’ up thinkin’ that’s just how it is. Like every kid’s dad’s got ‘em marching about the garden, treating playtime like it’s some bloody boot camp. I remember this one time, I must’ve been seven or eight, and I asked if I could have a birthday party. Just a little one, you know? Few kids from school, bit of cake, maybe a balloon if I was lucky. He looked at me like I’d just asked for a trip to the moon. Said birthdays were for ‘soft lads’ and I needed to toughen up. That was that. Never asked again.”

He shakes his head, the bitterness still there but dulled a bit by her being there. “And the thing is, I believed him. Thought he was doin’ me a favour, makin’ me strong or whatever. But lookin’ back now, it’s like…nah, he wasn’t makin’ me strong. He was just nickin’ all the stuff that makes bein’ a kid worth it. Like, who does that? Who looks at a kid and thinks, ‘Nah, you don’t need fun or mates or any of that. You need discipline.’” His jaw tightens again, but this time he doesn’t try to laugh it off. “It’s not just the big stuff either. It’s the little things. Never had a proper Christmas morning, you know? No legging it downstairs to see what Santa left. Just another day, another chance to ‘train.’ Never went trick-or-treating. Never had a sleepover. Never even had a bloody pet. Said they were a distraction. Who doesn’t let their kid have a goldfish?”

He hesitates when she suggests releasing it. He knows she’s right, but it’s not exactly a walk in the park, dragging all this up. If anyone’s earned the right to hear it, it’s her. “Yeah, maybe you’ve got a point. Keeping it all bottled up hasn’t exactly done me any favours, has it? But it’s hard, you know? Feels like if I start talking about it, I won’t be able to stop. Like it’ll all come pouring out, and then what? What if it’s too much? What if it’s too grim?” He glances at her, and there’s something in her eyes that makes him feel like maybe it won’t be. Maybe she can hack it. “But you’re right. It festers. And I don’t want that. Don’t want it poisoning what we’ve got.”

Her fierceness makes him laugh, a proper one this time, not the bitter kind. “You? Fightin’ for me? That’s a laugh. You cry when you break your nail." he smiles," Really, I do.” He leans into her a bit more, letting her hold him up in a way he’s never let anyone do before. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that? You say I deserve someone in my corner, but I reckon I’ve hit the bloody jackpot with you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, love. You’re my family now. And I don’t take that lightly.” Inside, he knows this is why he has to protect her. Why he has to keep her safe from all the mess he’s tangled up in. She’s given him something he didn’t even know he needed, and he won't let anything take that away.

His attempt at brushing off the trauma with humor only made her anger burn hotter—not at him, but at every adult who'd twisted his childhood into some sick training ground. Hearing him talk about guns and drills instead of playing with friends really broke her heart. "You didn't know any different because they never gave you the chance. But that's exactly what makes it worse, they stole all those normal childhood moments from you without you even knowing what you were missing." She wanted to track down every person who'd robbed him of normal childhood experiences and make them answer for it. His Pandora's Box comment resonated deeply; the image of pain rising to the surface was something almost everyone has felt before. His was deeper, however.

"Sometimes letting it out is exactly what we need. The festering only stops when we drag it into the light." She was heartbroken to hear him admit he'd never experienced acceptance without conditions or demands. When he wondered what he did to deserve her, she wanted to shake him—how could he not see that he deserved every bit of kindness after surviving all that? "You deserve someone in your corner because you're you, Sterling. Not because of anything you did or didn't do." The slight lean into her embrace told her volumes about his trust, about how far they'd come from those first careful conversations. When he called it her magic, she knew it wasn't magic at all—just pure, simple love for this man who'd survived so much and still managed to keep his heart open. She turned to face him, meeting his gaze with fierce protectiveness. "That's right, and if anyone ever tries to hurt you again, I'll fight them." She knew she didn't have such power compared to him, but she still wanted to protect him. They were each other’s to love and protect.

#𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙥𝙝𝙨; silence speaks deadliest truths.#𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙨; sahana rai 002 #/waiting on your scream lmfao

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fanimesenseiwrites · 4 years ago

Text

The Brothers React To Other Demons Wanting a Pact With MC:

Mammon overhears (was totally eavesdropping) MC talking with another demon one day and the demon asks MC for a pact. MC does not outright refuse the demon and instead tells them that they'll think about it.

Mammon freaks out and goes and tells all his brothers, who all have very interesting reactions...

Lucifer:

"It's nothing to worry about, calm down."

He definitely tries to seem chill about it, pride and all that, but on the inside he's seething

The thought of someone else asking MC for a pact is almost laughable

Like, who does this demon think they are?

Who do they think he is? That they think he would allow this to happen? That he would allow a lesser demon to ruin the prestige of what MC has with him and his brothers.

He won't say anything outright, but make no mistake, MC will not be forging a new pact.

Mammon:

Sharing MC with his brothers is bad enough, but with some other lesser demon who he doesn't know or like?? Out of the question.

He wants MC all to himself and he's not going to share, and he plans on telling them that!

Then he starts to feel a little insecure...

Did he do something wrong? Does MC not like him anymore?

Maybe he'll wait and see what MC does first...

Leviathan:

He's a little surprised at first to hear what Mammon has to say.

He's actually a little jealous, who is this demon who thinks he can just ask MC for a pact?

Then he gets in his own head...

I mean, of course he's not good enough for MC. Why would he be?

He's just some gross otaku shut-in, MC probably wants some normie demon who actually leaves their room and participates in society.

This is just more of a reason to stay in his room forever.

Satan:

"Certainly, there's more to this story than meets the eye," he tries to rationalize what his brother has told him.

But on the inside, he's kinda freaking out.

He's also pretty insulted.

And kind of amazed at the audacity of this lesser demon (not in a good way).

What could this demon possibly offer MC that he or his brothers could not? Why is MC even considering this?

He is not happy at all, and will be very grumpy until he learns of the outcome.

Asmodeus:

What is MC thinking? This demon asking for a pact isn't even that cute!

Who else could you want when you have a pact with the most beautiful demon ever?

Asmo is, of course, the one to blab the rumor to MC.

"MC! What are you thinking??? Why would you possibly want a pact with anyone else? I mean, you making a pact after you made one with me was already mind-boggling, but at least it was with my brothers..."

MC: "Wait, what...?"

The Twins:

They have a pretty similar reaction when Mammon tells them.

Belphie: "Why do I care who MC makes a pact with?"

Beel: "We can't tell them what to do."

Mammon: "Ya really aren't worried?"

Beel and Belphie: "No."

Except that they totally are.

When Mammon leaves them, they'll try to ignore it but after a while the anxiety wells up in the both of them to the point that they feel sick.

Belphie goes to his twin to demand cuddles.

Beel gladly obliges him and asks what they're both thinking: "Is MC not happy with us?"

Belphie doesn't respond, afraid of the true answer.

The twins will console each other until they figure out what the MC has planned.

The brothers will all go to confront MC together (after Asmo spills the beans, of course) about them supposedly forging a new pact.

"Hey MC! What's this I hear about you forging another pact?" Mammon is all too happy to confront MC.

"Where did you hear that from?" MC asked slyly.

"Oh. Well, I... uh..." Mammon hesitated.

"Maybe you talk to me first before you start assuming things," MC suggested.

"But he did hear it from you," Lucifer interjected.

"What?"

"I heard you talkin' to another demon and they asked you for a pact," Mammon told them.

"Yeah, and what did you hear me say?" MC asked with crossed arms.

"That you'd think about it! What do you even have to think about?!" Mammon sounded really upset.

"Are we not enough for you?" Asmo asked pitifully.

MC frowned. "Hold on now, calm down. I told him that I'd 'think about it.' That's just a nice way of saying 'no.' Don't you guys know that?"

The brothers all just stared at the MC.

"... humans are weird," Belphie declared quietly.

"That is not a euphemism we use down here in the Devildom," Satan informed MC politely.

"Oh... So I have to actually go tell him 'no,' don't I?" MC asked them.

"That would be best," Lucifer advised.

MC nodded. "I'll do that at school tomorrow then."

"So... you're not going to make another pact?" Beel asked.

"No. I have no intentions of making another pact right now, probably not ever," MC assured them.

"Oh good!" Asmo cried as he threw his arms around MC.

MC chuckled and hugged back.

"Asmo, would ya get off of 'em?!" Mammon cried.

"You get in on the hug too, Mammon," MC goaded. "In fact, group hug!"

The rest of the brothers willingly went in to hug MC, save for Lucifer who was pulled into the hug by Beel.

MC hummed happily. "I love you guys."

"We love you too!" Asmo was more than happy to tell how they all felt, knowing that most of his brothers were unwilling to share their true feelings in front of others.

And for just a few minutes, things were peaceful in the House of Lamentation.

#kinda angst?#but mostly cute and a little funny #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me levi #obey me scenarios #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me Satan #obey me Asmo #obey me Beel #obey me Belphie

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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years ago

Text

It’s A Match Chapter One

Masterlist

Disclaimer

Summary: Filming is over and Henry returns home to and empty house. And he doesn't like it, things are getting to him and he doesn't want to be alone anymore. Then his brother suggests online dating, it sounds mad but henry decides to give it a shot. If worst comes to worst he just deletes the profile. He has nothing to loose right?

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Cheese, Self Indulgent Fic, Rpf, Plus sized reader.

A/N: so I wrote this before the whole 'girlfriend' shock and everything that has followed. I was of two minds whether to ever post it but honestly, this is my blog and I've clearly stated that i am going to continue writing Rpf. I want to do a little ficlet/mini fic and well here we go. It wont be smutty just somewhat angsty then fluffy. Enjoy~

Taglist: In Reblogs.

Henry slumped back on the seat in his conservatory and sighed, from here he could see his brothers and their wives outside, each snuggled up on the out door wicker sectional he had got to have the family over. It was the first family get together for over a year. He was happy, god it was amazing to see them but... He couldn't help being a tad envious.

They all had a family, wife and kids to go through this shitstorm in. He had no one, well he ha Kal. But that was it he sighed and looked away sipping from his cup slowly takeing a moment for himself. He needed to just chill, but it was getting hard... This year had really knocked him back he was at an all time low he hadn't felt like this for a long time. He knew he was depressed, he felt stupid there was no reason to be but there we go.

Henry had been getting himself all twisted for a while now, filming the Witcher helped but now that was over and he was home alone. Left with his thoughts in a big empty house.

"Sooo little brother want to tell me what's going on or am I gonna have to get mum in here?" Henry jumped at the voice and spun around to face his brother who was keeping a safe distance at the door. Wiping his hands down clearly just having washed them again.

"I ah its nothing, you know me I'm a worry wart" he said waving off his older brother he didn't want to bring down the mood of the small gathering, it was why he had come in here to take a breather.

"You called us all here for a visit hen, out of the blue when lockdown is still being eased out. Its clear you don't want to be alone, yet your sitting in here alone." His older brother said leaning on the door frame folding his arms trying to figure out what was really going on. He could see his little brother was hurting he wanted to help.

"I've got Kal" Henry said with a chuckle and looked about for the bear only to frown and sigh seeing the room was empty apart fro him and his brother.

"Kal's outside with the kids hen, what's up? You can tell me you know" henry sided as his sibling moved sitting in the small seat across from him. He knew that his family would listen but he felt so... spoilt like he was asking too much and was being selfish. It wasn't like him.

He grunted leaning back choosing not to look at his brother instead focusing on the cup in his hand. He spun it slightly then heaved a sigh. He wasn't getting away with not speaking about it, he was going to air out his worries one way or another. With his brother or his mother, and he loved his mother but this was? He wanted to keep this issues close to his chest. So far only Kal knew about his problems.

"I... I've had enough... just had enough of fucking covid and being alone... i felt isolated before all this shit kicked off and now?" He vented releasing all the fears he had. It was tough, he was a family man without his own little family, he hadn't managed to find anyone to share his life with and it got to him. He tried being sincere and polite, he took care of himself and tried staying true to himself but... something was missing it had to be! On paper he was a safe bet a good man! Yet his relationships never worked. There were different opinions or his other half couldn't handle the life style or they tried changing him or they couldn't put up with the way he loved so furiously- so openly wanting to always hold and kiss them. It just never quite worked.

"Its- fuck everything has just caught up with me...worries I've had for a few years now I could ignore them you know? I had other stuff going on, was always out and about meetings and press tours I was busy! But now?" He tried putting his feeling into words but he was conscious, he didn't want to whine or bitch about his life. He loved his work and the life he had made for himself he just? Wanted someone to share it with.

"Now after covid you've got all the time in the world to think?" Henry nodded agreeing with his brother. Covid had made him face these fears head on. He has been alone for the best part of a year with the uncertainty of his work and filming quarantines and isolations.

"Yeah, it hurts I'm... I'm in deep and I? I don't know how I'm getting out of this slump" henry finally said outloud, his brother dipped his head listening to him as he ranted. Started letting out all the frustration and anxiety out but stopped short with another growl closeing his hand around the cup tightly hissing in frustration then looked away.

"And what's caused it? I know you hate being alone but?" Henry sighed shaking his head as his brother tried coaxing more out of him. He drew in a shaky breath wanting to cry, he was just so lost and upset over being upset and alone.

"Two lock downs... Two alone- I? If this carries on for the next few years I don't... I don't want to be alone anymore! I want to settle down, I want an actual personal life! A relationship a family and? How? How am I gonna find all that? They want fame or money or something! Women never seem to want me for me, they say the do then judge me for my hobbies- I'm a geek I like tech and games and fantasy! And women don't like that" he spewed the words like they were venom, half ashamed of being so dramatic but the fear was real. Henry was scared, he wanted love. He wanted a family of his own, and it seemed impossible, now more then ever.

"I want to meet someone who will take me as I am, for me and I just I'm giving up. I'm giving up on it I can feel it, almost forty and look, alone unmarried no kids-I have no one to share my life with, it hurts am I not good enough for that?" He hung his head as he spoke the final words put loud. He felt so vain and full of himself when he said them out loud, his skin crawled.

But it was how he felt, being the muscular decent looking man he was didn't go with his personality. He was a geek and the woman who were drawn to him didn't want that. And the woman that shared his hobbies normally weren't confident enough to even speak to him. Society's views on acceptable couples had put Henry in no mans land.

"What about online dating?" His brother spoke up but Henry just grunted rolling his eyes frustrated.

"What? No I cant do that I'd be fucking swamped" he hissed in irritation frustrated at the mere suggestion of him trying to date online.

"Whoa hold your horses let me finish I mean come on Hen there's bound to be hundreds of shy sweet women on there, I mean girls that are into your hobbies and stuff aren't usually the ones out and about partying and stuff, so its more likely they will be online" his brother quickly explained before Henry could pop off on one and shut him down.

Henry opened his mouth and stopped himself. That was a good point. Many of the women he would click with weren't going to be in bars or fancy parties. They were normally shy and at home most of the time reading or playing games.

"I... You really think i could meet someone? Meet the one online?" He asked in a small voice warming to the idea. His sibling smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes little brother, your a down to earth guy, just make a profile and have a look, if you don't like what you see you can delete the profile" henry nodded slowly thinking it over. There'd be no harm if he failed well he'd be no worse off, a little disheartened but that's about it.

"Look write down a few things you want in your dream girl, have a pseudo name like fucking I don't know Hank! Or something and say your a runner on set or something" his brother spoke up quickly as Henry sat back and actually thought about it seriously. He was right, henry could tweak things and be careful about what he shared and if he did meet the one then she'd understand... He could explain the predicament he was in. That he just wanted someone who liked him for him. And he would only reveal himself to her if she was the one and he was sure she would understand. As long as he was himself and honest about everything else in his life then there was no harm... and if he used proper photos of himself just... half cropped out then? It wasn't catfishing? Because he was being himself just using the nickname his mother used to call him.

"O-okay so be myself but... Just tweak a few things? So they don't know its me?" He reiterated to his brother still trying to figure out the morality of this whole idea.

"Yes! No full on pictures, no photos of Kal either new photos henry not old, maybe of your eyes up or something? Girls love blue eyed boy- not your right that brown will give you away... you could even fuck em up with a behind the scenes character photo? I mean come on how many men use a superman photo for their profile these days?" He encouraged wanting more then anything to cheer up his little brother.

"I yeah... That could work ,thank you- I'm sorry I got so worked up it... Its just getting to me now" henry apologised but his brother shook his head and chuckled standing up to go back outside to the others that were all happily chatting in the garden.

"I know Hen, look just give it a go, you might be surprized... come on lets get back out there, after all you are the host~ you cant just run off and hide" henry grinned standing and following his brother. It was decided, he'd give online dating a go!

A week later Henry sat at the computer everything was ready, he'd taken some precise photos and had spent the last half hour writing a profile up. He had felt a little guilty about this... Was he lying? Technically it was him, he was going by Hank which was a nickname his parents gave him as a child, luckily this site didn't require a surname because honestly? He had no clue! To fend off some guilt he had thrown in a behind the scenes photo of himself as superman it wasn't much but it helped take the edge off. The other photos were cropped and there were a good few just so that the women knew he wasn't technically a catfish; he even did one with him covering half of his face with a piece of paper with Hank scrawled across it. At the time he felt silly but it helped with his anxiety over the whole thing.

He paused for a second eyeing the screen rereading the profile over and over trying to make sure it was alright and honest. And it was, he had explained a little about himself, his hobbies and interests and his job... Only brushing over he worked for the film and tv industry recently working for Netflix he hadn't exactly explained what he did but there was enough information.

With a deep breath he clicked the button his mouse hovered over going live with the profile. Now all he had to do was wait and hope he caught a good womans eye. Within moments a few profiles popped up, matches. He scanned them flicking through some of the profiles and felt his heart crack. They were all full of badly filtered photos and used slang that to be honest he didn't even understand. What was so hard about using plain English?

He growled growing frustrated clicking through what were clearly a bunch of wannabe sugar babies. Each profile had a main photo a little bit of info then a few more pictures added to them. He scanned each one quickly going through the motions judging each one. 'Too far away... Your clearly not even eighteen?... Oh you like dc? Really hate to break it to you but thor is not a dc character' Henry grunted as he bypassed what felt like hundreds of women each with their own 'duck face' selfie most advertising their Instagram pages some even ballsy enough to add their only fans pages.

'Wait a second who was that?' He paused and scrolled back up and eyed the image on screen. It was a face on photo a cute woman smiling uncomfortably. Unlike everyone else's there was no distorting blur or heavy editing, the only make up was in the form of eyeliner in a set of black slightly uneven cat eyes. A slightly skewed black flicks making a point of no editing on the photo.

She was a full figured woman with proper kissable round cheeks and a sweet nervous grin. Her eyes were what got him, they were kind and genuine he could see she was uneasy about the photo but she was beautiful. She lived about half hour away which wasn't to bad.

Henry clicked the profile and scrolled down she didn't smoke, drunk occasionally and had no children. She did however have a college education in animal care and ran a small business. Centred on dogs by the looks of it. He moved further down reading the profile.

Y/n, 30, business owner, e/c, 5'4, curvy

I'm shy so will take a while to warm up to you. A honest woman, sometimes to honest I don't seem to have a filter 🤗 I'm laid back and tend to be sarcastic and I love animals I'm a kc certified dog breeder as well as run a small successful business that caters to dogs. So if you are allergic or don't like dogs then leave now but thank you for clicking🙃

I spend most of my free time gaming or reading. I enjoy the fantasy genre and love dc and marvel (though I love dc just a tad more🤫)

I have one fur baby in the form of my lovely girl Amii who is a three year old malamute. Yes malamute not a husky or Akita so again if you don't like dogs or big dogs I'm not the girl for you.

I'm looking for someone to have fun and maybe build a life with. Covid has been tough being single and decided that it was about time I tried this whole online dating thing. If you want to chat pop me a message 🥰

I do not have a personal Instagram, snapchat or only fans! Stop asking for pictures!😠😠

Henry's face split into a huge grin. She seemed to good to be true. She was wholesome, successful in her own right and looked fun. She didn't seem to be full of kale and bullshit. Just genuine and? Henry couldn't put his finger on it but there was something drawing him to this woman.

True to her word there was no Instagram link, no only fans or snap chat or anything. He scrolled further seeing photos of her and the biggest fluffiest dog he had ever seen in his life. She was sitting down next to who he assumed was Amii her dog and he melted. Y/n looked happy and content, living her best life.

There was nothing that sent alarm bells ringing, no racey photos or 'Netflix and chill' innuendos. The profile was clean and genuine. He was right the woman was a little chunky but extraordinarily beautiful. The curves suited her and made her look more... cheerful and he could tell she was strong aswell, you had to be to have a huge dog like that about you.

There were photos of her walking a large pack of dogs in the wood; that he recognised! They were the very same he took Kal to only ten minuets down the road, he even recognised the small logo of her company on the jacket she wore. He had seen dog walkers wearing the same jacket so he knew of her brand. I he remembered correctly the company offered dog walking, grooming and kennel facilities as well as offering Breeding services helping stud dogs and stuff. They also helped advertise registered breeders and took in rescues for rehoming. It was a brilliant little company that he had even used for Kal once or twice to get his teeth cleaned and nails clipped, because Kal was a bugger for his pedicures!

He moved further down seeing more photos of the woman a small section with the games and tv she liked. Witcher was in both the tv and games category aswell as peaky blinders, Vikings and a few other shows.

Henry paused as he saw the chat button. Should he? He but his lip twisting on the spot in he chair rocking from side to side. What harm is there? He could just send a message she looked like a fun loving woman, he shared the same interests and stuff... so why not?

His fingers hovered over the keys ready to type out the words. But he choked. His mind ran blank what does he say? Hi? I saw your profile? Does he ask for a date? What does he do?

He let his hands fall and growled. Then scanned over the side of the message bar seeing a few pre-typed responses.

'It's a match!' 'You look fun, lets chat' 'I like your profile picture'

He winced they all seemed... wrong? Somehow they were polite and all but it- they wasn't personal or anything just... not quite right. He looked down as Kal came padding over and slumped next to him resting his chin on his foot with a loud sigh. With that Henry had an idea typing away a little message and hitting send before he could really think.

You sighed typing away the latest wage slips and added up all the various overtime, you really needed some more staff on now that lockdown was coming to an end. Thankfully animal care was essential so you hadn't been hit too hard a few staff were on furlough as they were extreme high risk and shielding but you were going out of your way to make the premises covid safe. Luckily it wasn't too hard as much of the business was just a few staff and lots of dogs.

You frowned when a chat icon popped up in to corner of your screen. 'Hank?' You though trying to remember if you knew a Hank? Maybe a client or some old friend... but you honestly couldn't recall. You l saved your document and clicked the small icon bringing up a chat and frowned a you read the little message.

'I call my dog bear but he has nothing on Amii, Shes the fluffiest dog I've ever seen in my life she looks perfect for bear hugs😅'

'what the hell?' You cursed scrunching your nose up at the screen rereading the words. That's a bit random... you clicked his icon a small photo of half of his face then froze as a dating profile opened up. 'Oh... shit' you said seeing that your own profile you'd set up a few days ago out of curiosity had garnered the attention of the handsome blue eyed stranger. You swallowed biting you lip thoughts of finishing updating your records now gone as you scanned Hanks profile and a small smile crossed your face.

Hank, 37, works in the film industry. Blue eyes, 6ft, muscular.

Decided to finally try this online dating, unsure what to say other then I'm looking for a life partner. I like to think I'm funny and laid back. I'm fit and active but that doesn't mean you have to be, but maybe my lady could come for walks with me and my four legged son? I promise he's my best freind and a good boy.

My job is tough and I'm away for long periods of time, but when I'm home I like to play games and am into warcraft. I paint miniatures when I can. Fantasy and superheroes are a big part of my hobbies so if you don't like all things geek then I'm probably not for you.

But if they are? Then feel free to message me, I will reply when I can.

You read and re-read the profile And your hands hovered over your chicklet keyboard. Biting your lip, do you respond? He seemed sweet and real... if that made sense. You took a deep breath. What was the worst that could happen? Asking for a plane ticket? You decided to take a chance and typed back a reply hitting send whilst you had your nerve and then flushed.

"And they say fluffy dogs only lure in women~" You giggled to yourself moving a hand over the huge fluffy girl beside you giving her pets whislt thinking of a reply.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #rpf #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill imagine

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wheatley-imagine-scenarios · 4 years ago

Note

I just saw this blog, and ooooohhhh my heart my boyyyy whom I loooooove could I pretty PRETTY please ask for but a SMIDGE, a CRUMB, of romantic headcanons for Wheatley and his S/O? Who's not Chell. Don't get me wrong, nothing against the ship, at least for me, I just feel we have enough Chelley and not enough X Reader stuff ^^; Anywho, whether it's just pet names he has for em, fluffy, spicy, go wild ! (Oh, also gender neutral if you could.) Thank you so much for your time !

Of course you can! I'm a sucker for romantic Wheatley headcanons, no matter who he's with. As someone who ships Chelley, i still definitely understand that it often overshadows any X reader ideas, and I'd be glad to give you some gender neutral partner headcanons. Thank you for the ask, let's get right to it!

Wheatley loves his partner and makes sure they know it

He loves any kind of physical touch, from playing with each others' hair, to cuddling, to full-on sex. He just likes to be able to feel his partner next to him in some way, feel their warmth and soft breaths. Especially Android! or Core!Wheatley, as he'd be much more intrigued with how humans and their bodies work and feel.

Big cuddler, always in the mood for a good snuggle

When cuddling, he likes to be big spoon (although not opposed to swapping), He likes to feel like he's protecting them and keeping them safe. He also knows how nice it feels to be in someone's embrace like that from when he was a core and humans (probable his partner included) would wrap their arms around him while they'd sleep or take a rest.

He watches them do ordinary things. Wheatley is an observer of anyone, really, as it fascinates him. But he tends to be much more captivated with his partner's actions. Because of this, he's caught many of their little habits and and routines.

Likes having his hair played with. It's just a really comforting feeling to him

His hugs are everything. He loves hugging his partner to show them how much he cares, embracing them tightly, and almost hesitant to let go. Even though he's not the strongest, they always feel safe and secure in his arms.

He often worries about losing them. He's not possessive or anything, but he's scared of somehow messing up someday and losing what they have. Of course, Wheatley wants them to be happy, but he also can't imagine life without them if they, one day, chose to leave.

Speaking of wanting his partner to be happy, he has a bad habit of forgetting to take care of his own needs and feelings, instead focusing all of his energy on their happiness.

So he sometimes needs to be reminded to take care of himself

Early on in the relationship, he was really shy about showing romantic affection. He'd be worried about making them uncomfortable, but they assure him they're fine.

Wheatley asks for consent. Be like Wheatley.

He now showers them in verbal and physical affection whenever he can, it's really sweet.

Gets excited when his partner comes home from somewhere (work, with friends, etc.). He'll hear the front door open and run out like an excited dog, sometimes stumbling down the stairs, to greet them.

Usually ends in a big hug once he gets there

Wheatley loves spending time with them. Even just being in the same room as his partner is time well spent

That could also have to do with the fact he hates being alone

They probably end up getting a pet, let's be honest

Idk what animal, but whatever it is, they both love it so much. It doesn't take long for Wheatley to get emotionally attached.

A happy family :)

Alright that was fun, thank you for the suggestion! If anyone else has a request/prompt, feel free to send it in as an ask, and I'll respond to it!

#wheatley x reader #wheatley #human wheatley #android wheatley #portal 2 #headcanons #x reader #requests open

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

You Cut A Mean Rug, Doll Face

Bucky Barnes One Shot

Summary: It’s no secret that Bucky Barnes has women falling at his feet, but it’s very rarely the other way round. He’s the love ‘em and leave ‘em type, well according to Steve anyway. So, when you find him hiding to avoid a certain Private’s advances, it amuses you no end…until she shows up and you find yourself offering to be his ‘Fake Date’ for Stark’s upcoming USO Gala Dance.

Fake Dating in the middle of a war…what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: Bad language words. Smut. (NSFW 18+)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: So this is written as part of @anika-ann’s 1111 Follower Challenge. Congratulations darling! My prompt was Fake Dating.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

**********

“Hey, Steve.” You greeted the blonde super soldier as you walked into the little make-shift kitchen, deep in the underground London SSR HQ.

“Afternoon, Agent.” He nodded and you rolled your eyes, picking a piece of fluff off your khaki green uniform jacket.

“Seriously, after everything we’ve pulled together we’re still at agent?” You raised an eyebrow drawing a soft chuckle from the man in front of you as he poured a coffee into one of the tin mugs on offer, holding it out to you.

“Sorry, force of habit. Y/N. That better?”

“Much.” You nodded, taking the mug with a thanks, pulling a face as you took a sip. “God, all the technology we have and I still can’t get a decent cup of Joe.”

“Maybe you should have a word with Stark.” Steve shrugged. “He seems to be able to lay his hands on most things, rationing be dammed.”

“Well, you’re the man with the plan and he’s the man that can.” A smirk pulled at your face as you watched Steve fight the urge to roll his eyes. “Anyway, where’s Barnes? Colonel Phillips is riding my ass about a report he hasn’t filed. Keeps moaning on about us being unable to run strategic operations if we don’t actually do any strategizing.”

At that Steve’s face broke into a grin. “He’s hiding.”

“Hiding?” You frowned. “Chester isn’t that scary, he’s a pussy cat if you figure out how to make him purr.”

“Okay there are so many things wrong with what you just said that I’m not even going to go into.” Steve snorted and you flashed him a grin as he continued. “He ain’t hiding from Phillips, he’s hiding from Private Lorraine.”

“Why?” You paused, mug hovering an inch or so from your mouth.

“Well according to Stark who heard from Jones who heard from-“

“Yeah, yeah, skip to the interesting bit about why Barnes his hiding like the cowardly lion” You cut him off and he raised his eyebrows, his smirk growing wider.

“She wants him to ask her to that USO dance gala thing Stark is hosting.”

At that you felt the heat in your neck, jealousy, at the thought of the blue-eyed solider you’d been harbouring a crush on for months, like some love sick teenager, dancing with someone else. You carefully held Steve’s eyes and licked your lips, hoping you hadn’t given yourself away too much.

“Of course she does.” You shrugged, clearing your throat. “But that doesn’t answer my question. Why is he hiding?”

“He doesn’t want to go with her.” Steve shrugged, taking another sip of his drink and this time you did absolutely nothing to stop the grin that spread across your face.

“How come?”

At that Steve hesitated for a moment before he popped a shoulder again, slightly avoiding your eye line. "No idea."

You knew he was lying, he was notoriously bad at it, but before you could call him out, a deep voice spoke from the doorway.

"Sure your Ma told you it was rude to talk about people behind their backs, Stevie." Bucky grumbled as he walked into the room.

"Yeah, and I'm sure yours told you it was rude to do a lot of things that you still do anyway." Steve shot back and Bucky merely rolled his eyes, walking to the coffee pot and helping himself.

"Well, I’m astounded." You looked at Bucky as he turned around, leaning slightly against the small units that lined the room. "James Buchanan Barnes is fanning a woman away."

"Yeah, I don’t make a habit of it, Doll Face." He eyed you shrewdly over his mug.

"Still, never thought I'd see the day." You hummed, sipping your drink.

Bucky rolled his eyes and gestured with his mug towards Steve. "Now you sound like him."

"So, humour me, Barnes. What is it about her that’s making you run for the hills?"

Bucky hesitated for a moment before he winkled his nose and answered you. "She’s not my type."

"Really? I thought every woman was your type."

At that, Steve gave a chuckle. "She's got you there, Buck. I don't think I saw you without one before you shipped off."

"Shut up, Steve." Bucky bit back before he gave a low groan. "She's just..."

"Just what?" You scoffed. "Tall, blonde with big, come-to-bed eyes and pouty red lips? What's not to fall over? Dum Dum follows her around like a dog."

"Sweetheart, Dum Dum would probably chase a pig wearing lipstick if he thought he had a chance." Bucky looked at you his eyebrow raised and you heard Steve give a little snort of laughter. You turned slowly to him, and his eyes widened a little as you narrowed your eyes.

"What's your excuse?"

"His excuse?" Bucky paused, mug poised at his lips as Steve began to flounder over his words, a pink flush spreading into his cheeks.

“Yeah, he kissed her.” You informed and Buck gave a loud groan, placing his mug down on the side. "Peggy caught them, big time."

"She kissed me." Steve protested and at that Bucky sighed.

"What has my life become? Seriously?" He shook his head, his eyes flicking between you and Steve. "I’m hiding because I don’t wanna go dancing with some broad whilst this punks beating ‘em off with a stick."

"Shield." You corrected as Steve made an exasperated noise in his throat.

"I’m in a nightmare, right?" Bucky finished.

"’Fraid not, Buckaroo." You placed your now empty mug besides his on the wooden counter. "But I suggest that you get your report to me on the Dresden raid or you really will be in a bad dream. Colonel Phillips wants them pronto and I'm not taking the flack because you're too lazy to do it."

Bucky groaned. "How am I supposed to think about that with all this other shit going on?"

"Nice to see you have your priorities straight." Steve scoffed and Bucky glared at him but before he could reply, a loud girly laugh filled the kitchen and you saw Bucky still.

"There you are!" Private Lorraine spoke and you exchanged a glance with Steve, a look of utter glee spreading across his face at his friend's discomfort. "I was beginning to think you were avoiding me, Sergeant Barnes."

"Now what on Earth would give you that idea?" You quipped. As usual, she completely ignored you and watched as Bucky turned to look at her.

"Well, you found me." He nodded, a false smile spreading across his face.

"Yeah, I did. So, err, this dance, do you have a date or..."

Bucky took a deep breath, "well, the thing is..."

"Yes, he does." You blurted out, before you could stop yourself. You stepped forward and slipped your hand into his, ignoring the shocked look he gave you as you stood by his side. "He's going with me."

"You?" Lorraine looked at you, her eyebrows shooting up so high they almost disappeared into her hairline.

"Yes, me." You smiled. "So, you'll have to find someone else to go with. I think Duggan might be free."

"Well, suppose there's no accounting for taste." The blonde woman in front of you looked you up and down and you bristled under her glare, your nostrils flaring angrily. Sure, you might not have her model looks, hell, you might not even be conventionally pretty in some eyes, but you sure weren’t going to make her let you feel like shit. You'd been brought up by a loving family who made you realise your worth and that despite what anyone else said, you were just as good as them. You continued to hold her gaze and eventually she licked her lips and looked away.

"Well, erm, that's..." she clicked her tongue against her cheek, before deciding to cut her losses and she left the room.

The three of you stood in silence before Bucky turned to look at you, a smirk spreading across his face. "You, are a genius!" He pressed a kiss to your cheek and you swallowed slightly, feeling the heat in your neck. "I owe you, big time."

"Yeah, you do." You shrugged. "You can start by doing that damned report. And then you’re buying me a drink at the Gala, seeing as we're, you know, fake dating."

"You got it, Doll." Bucky saluted, flashing you a wink.

"Fake dating?" Steve muttered, and you turned to look at him as he shook his head, looking up at the ceiling. "I've heard it all now."

You cleared you throat, and removed your hand from where it was still in Bucky’s and swallowed. "I need to get going. That report, Barnes. Don’t forget."

"Anything for you, Darlin'." Bucky grinned.

You gave him a last little smile, and then turned leaving the room letting out an inward groan.

What the hell had you just got yourself into?

****

“Why did I do this?” You sighed, looking at your reflection in the mirror, shaking your head.

“Because you’re sweet on him.” Peggy matter of factly replied and you shot her a look in the mirror. She gave you a knowing smirk and you sighed.

“I just felt sorry for him, okay?”

“Sorry for him?”

“Yeah, you know what she’s like, she wouldn’t leave him alone.”

“Admirable.” Peggy nodded, stepping forward so she was behind you, reaching up to fix another pin into your up do. “So what’s your master plan? Act the part tonight and break up tomorrow?”

You shrugged. “Haven’t thought that far.”

“I doubt you’ve thought at all.” The brunette looked at you, her perfectly shaped eyebrow raising slightly.

“You know, you and Steve really are a match made in heaven.” You scoffed, stepping to the side as you smoothed down the dress you were wearing. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it traced your curves perfectly and made a nice change from the uniform you spent every day wearing. “Go take your righteous indignation and discuss it with him. That is if you’re speaking to him this week, I can never keep up.”

At that Peggy pursed her lips. “We’re not discussing me and Steve, we’re discussing you and how you’re going to get through the next however long pretending to date someone you actually want to date.”

“Well, it could be worse.” You shrugged.

“How?”

“I could be about to spend however long pretending to date someone I don’t like.”

Peggy looked at you for a second and you held her gaze, challenging her to say anything more on the matter. Eventually she merely raised her eyebrows before she turned and looked at the clock.

“We should go.”

With a deep breath you took one last glance at your reflection, grabbed the small clutch from the cot in your room and followed her out.

*****

The small dancehall in London's Soho District was packed with soldiers and civilian staff alike, and you accepted the drink offered to you by a waiter as you entered the main room, the Big Band already playing a bluesy-jazz number as background music, whilst people stood around the room, chatting. It didn’t take you long to locate Bucky. He was stood with Steve and the rest of the Howlies by the bar, all of them dressed in their best uniforms. Taking a deep breath, those pesky butterflies fluttering away in your stomach, you made your way over with Peggy and she let out an annoyed sigh as the men all blatantly looked the pair of you up and down.

“You’d think they’d never seen a woman before.” She mumbled and you scoffed out a laugh.

“Well, we’ve been running missions with them for that long maybe they’ve forgotten that we actually have boobs and a vagina.”

At that Peggy stopped to look at you, and the pair of you started to laugh.

“You are so uncouth.” She shook her head at you, as you linked your arm through hers and continued your path towards your team.

“Like I said, I’ve been in the field with these bozos for over a year, guess their bad habits are rubbing off on me.”

“Well, as long as that’s all that’s rubbing off on you.”

“Agent Carter!” Your mouth fell open in mock horror, turning to look at her as she continued facing forward, her lips quirked up at one side in a barely there smirk. “Now who’s being uncouth?”

“Ladies.” Dum-Dum greeted you with a tip of his bowler as you approached and you nodded to him, smiling before you turned to look at Bucky.

“Wow.” His eyes flicked up and down your form again, and you swallowed, a warm feeling spreading over you as his eyes took in your outfit and when his eyes finally met yours he cleared his throat and you gave him a small smile. “You err, look great. I mean, compared to how you usually look.”

At that Falsworth, Dum-Dum, Dernier, Jones and Morita all snorted as Steve let out a groan.

“Thanks. I think.” You frowned.

“No, I err…I didn’t mean it like that.” Bucky hastily began to back track as Dernier mumbled something in French, of which you caught the words ‘stupid idiot’, Jones hastily agreeing. “I just, well, it’s different to how I’ve seen you before.”

“Well a tight dress and courts ain’t exactly practical for hiking through woods and mounting stealth operations.” You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink. “But for the record, you look exactly the same as you usually do.”

At that the men all roared with laughter as Bucky sighed, dropping his head. “Guess I asked for that.”

Bucky watched as you gave him a small grin, before you turned to talk to Jones, and he took the chance to observe you properly. You looked good. You always did in his eyes but tonight, you were a knock out. Your dress hugged the curves of your thighs and hips, nipping in at the waist with a neckline that showed him just enough skin to leave him imagining what it would feel like to pepper your collarbone with kisses. Your hair was set in a perfect style, your lips rouged, you looked effortlessly stylish. He swallowed, sliding his finger in between the collar of his shirt and neck in an attempt to loosen the starched material as he suddenly flushed very, very warm. He felt timid, awkward, and that in itself made him feel a strange juxtaposition of irritated and amused. Bucky Barnes didn’t get nervous around women, that was Steve’s speciality. But here he was, flapping over how best to ask you if you wanted to get a drink whilst that punk was laughing away with Agent Carter hanging off his every word.

No, this wouldn’t do.

With a small cough, Bucky cleared his throat and dropped his hand to the base of your back. “You want a drink, Doll Face?”

You smiled up at him, blinking and nodded. “Yeah, thanks Buck. A gin would be great.”

Bucky waved over the bartender, placed your orders and had just turned back to you when he spotted the woman who’d thrown him into this mess in the first place, Private Lorraine arriving with some other poor, unsuspecting soldier from the unit. Bucky didn’t know his name, not that he cared.

“Hey,” he nudged you and you turned to face him and he jerked his head, “guess this fake date worked.”

You followed his eye-line and visibly bristled a little bit before you shook your head and shrugged. “Poor bastard.”

“You really don’t like her, do you?”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Just a hunch.” Bucky smirked, passing you your drink, before he gestured with his arm for you to follow the group who were now moving away from the bar to find a table. “After you, Darlin’.”

*****

You had to admit, you’d had your reservations but as it turned out, the night was pretty fun. Whilst you’d been hyper aware of Bucky besides you, you felt reasonably relaxed. His arm had dropped round your shoulder at one point, pulling you in for a friendly hug, the way he often did out in the field, and you’d simply enjoyed being as close to him as you were.

Because, fake or not, a chance to date Bucky Barnes didn’t come along that often.

It was a couple of hours later when you both found yourself at the table with Steve who made an excuse he needed the bathroom and left. Bucky snorted as Steve headed across the room and shook his head.

“Bathroom, he must think we’re stupid. He’s gone to find Peggy.”

“Aww, don’t. I think it’s cute.” You smiled, turning to look at Bucky. “Don’t you? I mean we’re fighting a war and in the middle of all this bloodshed and horror, he’s found someone who…” you trailed off as Bucky was watching you, a strange expression on his face. “Or not…am I talking nonsense?”

“No, it’s not that.” Bucky shook his head. “I just, guess I never thought about it that way. But you’re right. Suppose none of us know how long we have left, especially at the moment.”

He trailed off, his eyes scanning yours for something, but what you weren’t sure. You felt your cheeks warm and you glanced down at your hands, before you turned to watch the dancing going on around you. It was crazy when you stopped to contemplate that, in the midst of all the devastation and destruction, life was still going on. Bucky was right, your time could be up in a flash at any point.

“Well, seeing as you put it so eloquently,” you looked at Bucky, jerking your head to the dance floor. “Wanna show me how it’s done in Brooklyn?”

“Do you mind if we don’t?” Bucky shook his head and your heart sank. “I just…well, I…”

“No, you don’t need to explain.” You hastily back tracked. “I just thought it might keep up appearances, that’s all.”

There was an awkward silence, Bucky studying you for a moment with an expression you really couldn’t place and then, well, it all became too much.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” You made the same excuse Steve had given moments ago, and before Bucky could say anything, you rose from your seat and walked away, as dignified as you could, trying not to let the tears that were stinging your eyes fall down your face.

*****

Bucky watched you walk away from him, your movements graceful as you headed round the tables placed around the edge of the dance floor, taking care to avoid the groups of guests as you went. He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. This was a mess. It had started out as a bit of fun, you helping him out, because that's what you did, but he'd been a wreck all night. Frankly, being in such close proximity to you was making his head swim.

He'd wanted to dance with you, he'd really wanted to dance with you, but he didn’t trust himself because the truth was he liked you. A lot and he had done��so for a while. He wasn’t sure he could trust himself to hold you on the dance floor without trying to kiss the life out of you. So he’d said no, and let you walk away, and the look of hurt on your face was now burnt into his mind. With an angry snort he stood up and stalked to the bar, signalling for another drink.

He stood there, nursing his glass for what felt like an age, seething at his own stupidity until a familiar voice cut through his murderous thoughts.

"Did HYDRA scramble your brain or something, Buck?"

"What?" Bucky's brow furrowed as he turned to look at Steve.

"You’re missing a girl's signals."

"Signals, what are you..."

"Y/N, you dolt." Steve rolled his eyes.

"What about her?"

"She likes you, has for ages."

"I don’t think so, Steve" Bucky snorted.

Steve sighed and leaned against the bar as Bucky necked his scotch. "So explain the look she had on her face as she stalked passed me before.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. "She wanted a dance, dames love dancing. I said no.”

“And why did you do that?”

Bucky took a deep breath and didn’t answer. But he knew Steve could see right through him, the punk always could.

“Buck, what exactly did you think I meant that night at the bar when we first came to England a couple of months back? About Peggy having a friend? I meant Y/N."

Bucky blinked, his mouth dropping open. "What?"

"She's sweet on you. Falsworth told me. I was trying to give you a hint."

Utter frustration lanced through Bucky's entire body and he shook his head. "How in the name of Hitler’s left ball was I supposed to understand that?"

"Well, I thought it was obvious."

"No, no it wasn't, Steve!" Bucky groaned, his eyes flicking around, trying to locate you in the crowd but he felt his heart sink as there was no sign. "Oh, I fucked up, big time."

"Suggest you go fix it then." Steve shrugged, his voice a little slow as he himself was busy looking at Peggy as she walked towards him, smiling. He stood up straight and clapped Bucky on the shoulder, before he walked off, leaving his sergeant alone.

Bucky anxiously continued to search the room with his eyes, and felt his heart jump as he saw a flash of colour the same as your dress, and your familiar profile as you walked onto the dance floor, your hand in Howard’s as the man smiled at you, pulling you into a hold.

Oh, fuck you, Stark!

Without wasting another second, Bucky necked his scotch and moved, striding around the dancehall towards you, not watching where he was going which was why he collided straight into Dum-Dum.

"Woah, Barnes, where's the fire?"

"On the dance floor, I hope.” Bucky sidestepped round the broad man quickly, his eyes entirely fixed on you as he weaved his way round the various couples all in the middle of a reasonable slow dance until he reached the pair of you.

He cleared his throat, gently tapping Howard on the shoulder as your eyes fixed onto his, surprise etched across your face.

“Mind if I cut in?”

xxxx

“Did it work?” Peggy asked Steve as the pair of them stood to the side of the hall. Steve glanced over the dancefloor, just as Howard stepped away from you, kissing your hand in an over-the-top gesture before he turned and walked away. Bucky approached you tentatively, and Steve saw you give the faintest of nods, before his friend took you in a close dancing hold.

Grinning, Steve turned back to Peggy, jerking his head to the floor. “See for yourself.”

As the pair of them watched you and Bucky for a second, Steve’s eyes then fell on Howard who had paused to talk to someone. Almost as if he could sense the Captain’s eyes on him, Stark glanced over, a smug grin crossed his face, and he gave Steve the thumbs up sign.

Steve smiled into his glass, the irony at the fact that Bucky had tried and failed many times to fix him up with gals in the past yet he’d managed to turn the tables in a single try, wasn’t wasted on the Captain.

xxxx

“Funny looking bathroom.” Bucky cleared his throat as he steered the pair of you round in a gentle dance.

“Oh, well I got waylaid a little.” You replied. “And seeing as we’re not actually dating, I didn’t think it was an issue.”

“It’s not, I just…” He was quick to reply as he drew in another deep breath before he shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Before, saying no the way I did. It was rude.”

You took a deep breath, your heart racing as you glanced up at him. “So, is that the only reason you’ve come to dance now? To apologise?”

“Yes, I mean, no.” Bucky stumbled over his words as he shook his head. “No, I wanted to dance. More specifically I wanted to dance with you.”

His admission settled like a bubbling brook in your belly. You wondered why, so you asked, "why?"

Your mind began quickly doing the math, adding up the moments and signals between the two of you, wondering if what you dared to think was actually what he was thinking too. You were nervous but you remained close in your dance, your eyes flicking between his and his lips as he spoke, the words drowning in your ears, his voice sounding like your head was under water.

“Because I like you, Doll Face.”

Then, you felt it, your body leaning in just a smidge as you tilted your head upward as his moved just a pinch to look down at you. Your lips brushed his and the electricity took off as he pulled you in for a deeper, slightly less modest kiss, the hand that had been curled around your waist moved upwards at the same time his other released yours from his hold, and calloused palms and fingers cupped your jaw and cheeks. Despite the roughness of his skin, his warm hands felt soft against your face like the finest silk whilst his tongue dipped into your mouth, kissing you in a way that your Pappy certainly wouldn’t approve of.

But you approved, boy did you approve.

The sounds of the big band drowned out the mewl that bubbled from your delicate throat to those around you, but not to Bucky. He heard the elicit sound clear as day, and that was enough. He wanted to get you alone, away from prying eyes.

He pulled back, casting a quick glance around before he looked down at you, "let's get out of here."

It was a suggestion as much as an instruction, and he waited as you blinked, before you gave the slightest nod and he took your hand, turned, and led you from the dancefloor.

****

How the pair of you made it back to your quarters, you had no idea, but here you were, stumbling into the small room, heated kisses being shared as Bucky kicked the door shut, his lips still fiercely on yours. Your fingers were now deftly undoing the buttons of his jacket before you pulled it open with a flourish, shoving it down over his shoulders and arms as Bucky was quickly pulling off his tie and opening the collar of his shirt. Before long, that was also discarded somewhere on the floor and your hands slid up his strong biceps, down his chest, tracing the taught muscle before your fingers hooked into the front of his uniform pants and you turned your attention to his belt, breaking the kiss a little so you could look down.

“Eager, Doll?” Bucky mumbled as his nose nudged at your chin, pushing your head up. His lips trailed across your jaw line, and then down your neck and you tipped your head back, your eyes fluttered shut at the feel of his lips on your skin, relishing the feel of his soft mouth and the delectable gentle scratching of his five-o-clock shadow.

His hands slowly slid up your sides, before they moved round the back, his lips pressing to yours as you felt his fingers gently guiding the zip of your dress down. Once it was undone, you stepped back and allowed it to fall into a pool at your feet. Bucky glanced down and groaned as his blue eyes scanned the stockings, garter belt, lace panties and matching bra.

“Fuck, Sweetheart.” His lips crashed back to yours as he backed you towards the cot at the side of the room. As the back of your knees hit the metal side of the frame, he gently lowered you down, positioning himself over you, caging you with his arms and his legs as his mouth continued trailing soft kisses down your neck and her jawline.

You were powerless to stop the soft noises of pleasure you were making, try as you might, conscious of the fact the walls in the Quarter-Hall were thin, something you cursed on a daily basis as you could hear the squeak of the cot which belonged to the neighbour to your right as she turned over at night. Luckily for you, your springs were untested so to speak, therefore didn’t make a sound, unlike you at that moment in time.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Bucky suddenly stopped, his mouth hovering by your ear and you stilled, tilting your head to look at him. “I mean, this…well, it aint proper really, but…”

“Since when did you give a damned about being proper with a Dame?” You teased, fingers wrapping in the chain of his dog-tags, but there wasn’t a shred of humour in Bucky’s tone or on his face when he answered.

“When that dame was you.”

You blinked, and looked at his face, finding nothing there but a genuine softness and you were overcome with the emotions and sensations you were feeling and you yanked on the chain in your hands, pulling his head back down as you crashed your lips back to his.

“Yes, yes I do. I want this Bucky, I want it so much.” You mumbled against his mouth and he gave a groan, before he stood up, quickly, reaching for his wallet. He pulled out the small condom packet, one you recognised as the standard issued to all soldiers to avoid them catching anything when they were putting it about during furlough, so to speak, and he sat back down on the edge of the bed, bending down to unlace his boots.

Bucky was mentally cursing the damned things as he felt you stir behind him, the hard mattress of your bed dipping slightly, and he stilled as he felt your fingers gently brushing over the back of his shoulders. Your touch was feather light as your hands gently felt across his broad back and he gave a sigh, tipping his head back slightly to catch your lips in a deep kiss.

“Doll, if you want me to do anything to you tonight, I gotta get these boots off.”

“So take ‘em off.”

“Stop distractin’ me then.” His accent dripped from his tongue as he chuckled, and your lips curled into a smile against his.

“You saying you can’t handle a job with a little distraction?” You gave a tut, but pulled away a little to allow him to finally get the damned things off. “And Steve says you’re our best marksman.”

“Well, what does that Punk know?” Bucky tossed the boots to the floor with a thud, before he quickly raised his hips enough to allow him to slide off his pants. Then, in a flash he turned, pinning you back to the cot, smirking at the giggle that burst from your mouth. His hands trailed down your body, flicking open the clips on your garter straps without so much as a fumble, before the reached up and snapped the hooks at the front of your bra.

He took a moment to appreciate you, the soft, supple lines of your breasts a complete contrast to your toned shoulders and taught stomach, both the result of an extensive training regime.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He leaned over, kissing you softly, his lips tracing a track down your sternum before he softly took a nipple in his mouth, his tongue gently teasing, eyes flicking to your face to watch your reaction.

You groaned at the sensation, rolling your head back on the pillow, hips bucking upwards as you let yourself go, barely daring to believe that his was happening, but just as you were questioning if you were in some elaborate dream, a low moan from above you caused your fluttering eyelids to jerk wide open. You could feel him hard, pushing against you and your hands moved round to his back. You dragged your fingers up his spine, as his hand moved down, sliding into the waistband of your panties making your gasp as his fingers slipped into your folds. As he teased you, your hips began to move in time with his motions, groans falling from your lips as the heat began to build in between your legs, deep in your belly.

“Good?” Bucky’s voice was a rasp, and it was all you could do to do whimper softly, your head falling back further as your mouth dropped open, your entire body shuddering as the pleasure lanced through you. You reached down, grabbing his wrist and his eyes moved to yours, waiting.

“Want you.” You whispered softly. Almost as if he’d been waiting for that final bit of permission, Bucky’s fingers hooked into the top of your panties, gently sliding them down your legs, gathering your stockings as he went, a movement he had clearly perfected through goodness knows however many other clandestine liaisons. Discarding them to the floor, he wriggled his way out of his own underwear before he sat back on his heels and you moved, grabbing the packet he’d placed on the small bedside unit before.

Bucky groaned softly as your hands gently wrapped around his cock, sliding the condom down. It really shouldn’t have been as arousing as it was but he was almost ready to blow before he’d even started. Once it was on, he crawled back over you, his thighs gently parting yours a little further and with a steady, slow motion he slid into you, the sensation caused both of you to groan, your head falling back against the pillows as Bucky stretched you, his girth and length filling you completely.

"Fuuucckkk.” Bucky breathed out as your tight heat gripped him, his word little more than a whisper. He moved his hands to snake his fingers through yours, gently pinning your hands by the side of your head as he began to move his hips. He went slowly at first, picking up the speed slightly as you keened underneath him, his dog tags sliding in the valley between your breasts, the metal cold against your heated skin.

Your hips bumped together with every thrust he made and, with each rock into you, he was rubbing against that soft spot deep inside you. Your soft cries stuck in your throat, your senses completely overwhelmed as the fire in your body was raging white hot.

“James,” you whispered his name, and Bucky let out a low groan, his fingers tightened around yours as he gave a particularly deep thrust, making you purr in delight. He raised his head to capture your lips, plunging his tongue into your mouth before he released your hands, his own cupping your face as he continued to move.

In that moment, you could have been anywhere. In a hotel, surrounded by the finest silk sheets that money could buy or on some far away beach in the corner of the world, but instead you were led on a hard mattress in a military base, knowing full well you were in for some serious reprimand if you were caught, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was the man who was currently undoing you piece by piece as the two of you were tangled in your own private dance.

The more Bucky gave, the more you wanted, and as he hiked your leg up round his waist, his fingers curling round the back of your knee you choked out another pant of his name, “James,” as you felt yourself nearing that point where you’d drop over that oh-so-steep cliff edge. The tips of your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders, causing him to groan loudly, his head tipping backwards.

“You feel so good.” His voice was nothing but a whine, and at his praise you gave another low, sultry gasp, your breath now coming in ragged gasps. “God, Y/N,” he moaned loudly as you titled your hips, pushing back up against him, his head dropping slightly. “You close?” he gasped and you nodded softly, your lips falling open and once again he kissed you, hard, his movements speeding up ever so slightly.

“Don’t stop.” You begged, shaking your head as you grasped at his back, “please, so good.”

Bucky felt you shudder underneath him and a few thrusts later your back arched and a soft cry escaped your mouth as your eyes fluttered shut and your head tilted back, mouth open in a now silent scream. He could feel you tightening, pulsing around him as you came and that was it, enough to tip him straight over the edge behind you, the surge and ecstasy of his relief causing his whole body to stiffen as his hips faltered. A groan burst from his mouth as he gave a few final, sloppy thrusts before he collapsed forward, his head burrowing into your neck.

You both lay still for a moment, before Bucky regained enough composure to prop himself up, placing a soft kiss to your lips and as he pulled away slightly, he found you looking up at him, lips swollen from his kisses, heavy lidded eyes blinking slowly in your sated state, and he smiled at the fact you wore that just fucked look so damned well.

“You okay?” He asked softly and you nodded, a smile playing on your lips before you kissed him again.

“More than okay.” You grinned, your nails gently scratching at the nape of his neck. “You got moves, Sergeant.”

Bucky let out a chuckle as he kissed you again, his lips hovering over yours. “Well you weren’t so bad yourself, Agent.”

*****

“Nice of you to show up.” Colonel Phillips looked at you as you walked into the briefing room. “Late night, was it?”

“Sorry, Sir. I didn’t get much sleep.” You mumbled, avoiding Bucky’s eyes as he looked down at the table, a grin on his face.

“Huh, I could have sworn I saw you leaving the dance early.” Dum-Dum quipped and you shot him a glare as you took up a seat next to Peggy who licked her lips, fighting a smirk.

“Whatever, I’m not interested.” Phillips sniffed before he tossed a file down on the table in front of Steve who reached over to take it. “We have word that HYDRA are intending to move Arnim Zola.”

“Do we know where to?” Steve asked, looking at the file before he glanced up and Peggy shook her head.

“No, this is hot off the press so to speak. Stark’s team intercepted their encrypted broadcast. All we know is that they’re nervous about moving, and that the route has been carefully planned to avoid any long, open distances.”

“They’re going through the Alps.” Phillips moved to a map at the side of the room. “Trying to maintain a cover so to speak. Our surveillance team still has Zola at his current location, but that could change at any time. Captain, I need you to co-ordinate and mount an operation to intercept that train and apprehend him.”

“If you know where he is why can’t we just bust in and get him now?” Bucky asked.

“Because you’ll never get there in time.” Phillips replied. “As we understand he’ll be moving out in a couple of hours. So we’re up against it. The window of opportunity lies about six hours into his trip where there’s a slight break in the mountain cover.”

“How do we know this is kosher?” Falsworth took the file from Steve. “They could be leaving a false trail.”

“We hacked a number of broadcasts, each saying a different thing.” Peggy answered. “But this one held the code words we know HYDRA are using today.”

“And our codebreakers have never let us down before, so I’m willing to take a punt.” Phillips nodded. “Get to it, we don’t have much time.”

There was a flurry of movement around the table as you all stood up, Steve barking instructions at you all to collect what you needed and head to the transportation hub immediately as Dum-Dum mentioned something about zip wires and ambushing the train from above. As you all sidled out of the room, a hand gently closed over your arm and you turned to see Bucky as he fell into step besides you.

“Just so you know, I don’t normally make habit of splitting before breakfast.”

“Oh, you normally eat first?”

“In a manner of speaking.” He smirked and you gave a chuckle. “I just didn’t want you thinking-“

“It’s okay, I get it.” You assured him, and you did. He’d left in a flurry that morning before he could get caught sneaking out of the small room you had in the female quarters and you didn’t hold it against him at all.

“But, I’d really like to take you out, properly, I mean. When we get chance.”

“You asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah.” Bucky stopped, turning to face you. “A real one this time.”

You smiled and nodded. “I’d like that. Oh, but just so you know, I don’t put out on a first date.”

“No? Then what was last night?”

You hesitated, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. In all honesty, you had no idea what had come over you last night. You’d never behaved in a reckless manner with a man like that before and taken him home so easily, for fear of getting yourself a bad reputation. That said, you didn’t really care either. You were in the middle of a war, running dangerous missions, any of which could be your last. Life was for living, and as long as you were breathing, you intended on making the most of it.

You opened your mouth to explain this to Bucky, but you stopped yourself and instead you simply smiled at him, your eyes looking straight into those steel-blues which were sparkling with mischief.

“Doesn’t count, it wasn’t a real date.”

“Oh, that’s how it is?” Bucky arched an eyebrow and you nodded.

“Yup, that’s how it is.”

“Well,” He took a deep breath as the pair of you continued walking, “guess I’ll just have to show you a real good time when I get the chance.”

You snorted and shook your head. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

“It’s been said.” He grinned as you reached the end of the corridor. “But, first we’ve got a German scientist to catch. Think you can contain yourself around me long enough to run a mission?”

“Okay, first off he’s Swiss.”

“What?”

“Zola, he’s Swiss. I don’t know why you all think differently, it’s in all the briefings and his file-“

“Yeah, I don’t read those.”

“Well you should, you might learn something. And second -“ you held your hand up, finger extended, instructing him to keep whatever wise crack he was about to make to himself, “-you’re not that irresistible.”

Bucky blinked before he gave a laugh and shook his head. “You know, I actually learned a fair bit last night.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I learned that you cut a mean rug, Doll-Face.” He glanced around, before he leaned closer, his breath hot on your neck as he whispered into your ear. “And that you look even better with your clothes off.”

With that he turned and headed off towards the equipment store, leaving you staring after him, blinking with shock, but feeling an overwhelming sense of smugness that, even in the middle of all this bloodshed and fighting, you had something to look forward to when you got back.

#ann1111fc #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #reader insert #captain america fanfiction #mcu fanfic

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lyranova · 3 years ago

Text

Children of the Future:

Chapter 23: Battles and Breakdowns

Hi guys! Here’s chapter 23 I’m sorry it took so long to get this one out, I’m trying to get better at updating 😅. This one is a long one and it’s mostly OC centered (the next couple of chapters will be but it’ll be more 50/50 split). There are a couple of revelations in this chapter too, so I hope you all enjoy 🥰!

Taglist: @eme-eleff @thoughtfullyrainynightmare @simpingforthisonedeer @bowandcurtsey @elysianluv @vwdxwnsk @luminouslion @flow3rbudz @crazyclownthanos (if anyone else wants to be added please let me know!)

Word Count: 3,366

Warnings: Mild language, and mental break towards the end

———

The children blinked at Yami’s words. A versus battle? They looked at each other with a mixture of excitement, confusion, and a bit of fear.

“ Alright! This is awesome!” Hikari and Brielle shouted excitedly, their eyes lit up as though it were christmas morning. Josslyn snorted slightly.

“ This is going to be a bloodbath,” Josslyn said with a shake of her head, then she turned to look at Ezio. “ Rest in Peace Pinky.” Ezio suddenly looked at her eyes wide in disbelief.

“ ‘P-Pinky’?! Your hair’s pink too, Joss!” Ezio shouted, his voice slightly high pitched. Josslyn couldn’t help but laugh a bit.

Yami watched as all the kids had a mixture of responses, but his eyes landed on Alistar. The white haired man continued to have a calm look on his face, but when he looked at his Ki he noticed a slight nervousness in it. Yami almost laughed, the kid was probably afraid he’d have to go up against Yami.

“ Captain, I think you need to go into further explanation before the kids get too ahead of themselves.” Vanessa said with a small giggle, Yami sighed and rubbed the back of his head.

“ Yeah you’re right. Listen up!” Yami suddenly shouted, causing everyone to stand at attention. “ You’re not fighting against us.”

“ Aw really? That sucks!” Hikari and Brielle said in unison, both looking disappointed. Ezio let out a sigh of relief.

“ Well I did suggest that, but your ‘parents’ all felt it would be unfair to have you guys fight against us. Especially since most of you are kids.” Yami said as he looked at the ‘parents’ behind him, he felt that they were maybe underestimating the kids a little bit, but he did agree that having them fight against 3 Captains plus some other really strong mages was a bit unfair.

“ So, pretty much it’s just us fighting against each other?” Alistar asked as he placed a thoughtful hand under his chin, Charlotte nodded in confirmation.

The kids all looked at each other, they would be fighting against each other? That didn’t seem too bad, but considering they were all at various levels, was this really fair either?

“ Since there’s an odd number of you, someone will have to go twice.” William said as he pulled out what appeared to be lots. “ I’m sure you know how this goes but just in case we’ll all explain. Each lot has a name on it, we’ll pull out two names from the bag, and whoevers names are on them will be fighting against one another. Alright?” William asked, the kids nodded.

“ Actually,” Ace suddenly said with a raised hand. “ I’d actually like to take myself out of the mock battles if that’s okay?”

“ Why? You did really well when we were training yesterday.” Zora asked with a raised brow, Ace just shrugged.

“ There’s an uneven amount of us, which means someone would have to go twice, and to be honest I don’t think I’m ready to do a versus battle. I want to train a little more before I try this.” Ace said softly, Josslyn sighed before walking over to her brother and ruffling his red hair.

“ Let him watch for now, then he can participate next time.” Josslyn said, Zora frowned but nodded. He would try and talk to Ace later and see why he decided to back out of it.

“ Alright then, the first person is; Hikari and,” Charlotte pulled out another lot. “ Ezio.”

“ I repeat. Rest in Peace Pinky.” Josslyn said, turning towards the pink haired boy, this time putting her hands together in mock prayer. Ezio could do nothing as he gaped like a fish out of water, but Hikari smiled brightly at him.

“ This’ll be fun! Do your best out there Ezio!” Hikari said, Ezio just stared at her as his face paled. As Charlotte began to draw more lots Ezio muttered under his breath how he was too young to die.

“ Next will be; Maelie and Aloys.” Charlotte announced as she looked at the lots in her hands, Aloys immediately stepped forward.

“ No way. I’m not fighting against my sister.” Aloys said, Maelie walked over to Aloys and gently grabbed his hand.

“ It’ll be okay big brother,” She told him softly. “ I promise!” She added with a small smile, Aloys’s face turned a bright red.

“ F-Fine, I guess.” He muttered softly, but there was a very apprehensive look on his face.

Charlotte continued through the lots; Miku and Kaiyo, Mizuki and Brielle, then finally.

“ Alistar and Josslyn will be our final battle for the day.” Charlotte announced, Josslyn smirked and pumped her fist into the air excitedly.

“ Alright! I hope you’re ready to get your ass kicked Pretty Boy!” Alistar nearly snorted but he smirked as well.

“ I don’t think I’ll need to worry about that. Instead I’ll make sure your grave is right next to Ezio’s.” Alistar said in a light hearted manner, Josslyn glared.

“ What did you say-?!” Josslyn started but Yami cut her off.

“ Alright enough with the chit chat. Let’s get started!” He announced.

All the kids and their ‘parents’ began to move and create a border around a small area in the front of the house. The adults looked at each other, this wasn’t just to see how strong each child was, but they also wanted to see how they would strategize and how they’d handle fighting against different power types.

Hikari and Ezio walked into the center of the circle. Hikari was still smiling brightly, while Ezio looked so nervous that everyone was waiting for him to just port himself somewhere else. He looked over at his ‘parents’, Finral looked almost as nervous as Ezio while Vanessa just cheered him on.

“ Begin!” Yami suddenly shouted, signaling the beginning of the match.

Hikari pulled out her katana and began to use her Dark Spatial magic to attack Ezio, who used his Spatial magic to try and block or send her attacks somewhere else.

“ Ezio isn’t really an attack mage,” Aloys explained to Finral and Vanessa. “ he’s better for transportation or for defensive stuff like this. Luckily he’s pretty fast so he’ll be able to keep up with Hikari’s attacks for a little bit, but he’s pretty outmatched. She’s the strongest in the group.” Aloys finished and as he did, Ezio was suddenly knocked back and landed on the ground with a loud ‘thud’.

“ He lasted longer than I expected.” Josslyn said as she watched Finral and Vanessa walk over to their ‘son’ and gently pick him up off the ground. Yami and Charlotte walked over to Hikari.

“ That’s my girl! You did pretty good out there kid!” Yami said with a cheerful laugh as he placed a gentle hand on her head. Hikari felt her cheeks turn a bright red but she smiled at her ‘fathers’ praise.

“ Thanks, but is Ezio okay?” She asked as she looked towards where the pink haired boy was lying.

“ He’ll be alright, don't worry!” Vanessa said as she helped Finral pick their ‘son’ up and they carried him over to the side.

Yami, Charlotte, and Hikari walked out of the center. Charlotte couldn’t help but chuckle as Yami walked with his chest slightly puffed out, he was a proud papa that was for sure. They stood around the circle and watched as Maelie walked into the center.

“ Big brother? Aren’t you coming?” Maelie asked softly as she waited for Aloys.

Aloys stood off to the side, he really didn’t want to go in there and fight his sister. He knew how it would end and he wasn’t looking forward to it at all. He looked over as he saw Gauche and Grey approach him.

“ Aren’t you going in there?” Grey asked softly, the young boy nodded as his face turned slightly red, Gauche scoffed a bit.

“ What? You don’t want to fight against your sister in front of everyone?” Gauche asked, Aloys glared.

“ Would you want to fight against Marie old man?” Aloys asked, Gauche rubbed the back of his head. “ Yeah I didn’t think so. Besides, it’s not just because she’s my little sister that I don’t want to fight against her.” Aloys muttered before walking out into the center, Gauche and Grey looked at each other with a confused frown.

Shortly after that, everyone found out why he didn’t want to fight Maelie.

As the siblings battled the sweet, shy, and innocent Maelie that everyone came to know and love seemed to completely change. Her eyes grew cold and harsh, she mercilessly attacked her older brother.

“ Pathetic.” She muttered, her voice and mannerisms almost mirroring Gauches. Meanwhile Aloys’s began to mirror Grey as he transformed himself and items around him into various things to try and deflect his sisters attacks.

“ N-Now I see why Aloys didn’t want to fight her,” Finral said with a nervous laugh. “ She’s just like Gauche when she’s fighting, but when she isn’t she’s like Grey and vice versa with Aloys.” He added as they all watched the older Adlai sibling steadily try to dodge his sister's attacks.

Until finally Maelie had her brother surrounded by mirrors and effectively ended the battle.

“ Aloys! I’m sorry, are you okay?” Maelie asked as she rushed to her brother with Gauche and Grey, Aloys nodded as he sat up.

“ I-I’m fine Maelie.” Aloys assured as he stood up with a little help from Gauche. As the Adlai ‘family’ walked out of the center the others stood there shocked that Maelie, a 9 year old, had beaten her 16 year old brother.

——

The other battles went on smoothly, Miku was able to defeat Kaiyo with slight ease. Kaiyo had gotten better at controlling her Mercury Magic but still wasn’t a match for Miku’s wind magic, the next battle between Mizuki and Brielle was a little more challenging. But Brielle, with the help of her devil Herz, was able to counter Mizuki’s water magic and send it back twice as strong. Which ensured her victory.

Now, it was time for the final battle between Josslyn and Alistar.

“ How do you think this is going to go?” Yami asked William curiously, who only shrugged in response.

“ I’m not sure. Alistar’s plant magic is pretty strong, and Josslyn is pretty strong as well. So it’ll be interesting. But the problem is, Josslyn seems to be a bit hot headed, as opposed to Alistar which could either be her greatest strength, or her eventual downfall.” He said thoughtfully, Yami nodded in agreement.

Josslyn and Alistar both walked to the center of the circle. She held her head up high, she knew Alistar was strong, but she was stronger. She was even close to being the Captain of the Purple Orcas, there was only one thing holding her back from achieving that dream, but that was a thought for another time.

“ Don’t go crying to your daddy when you lose Pretty boy.” Josslyn taunted with a smirk, Alistar laughed softly, his calm smile still in place. Josslyn couldn’t help but feel slightly annoyed by it.

“ Oh I don’t plan too, because I’m not going to lose.” Alistar said simply, Josslyn rolled her eyes at him. She really had no idea how Hikari could be friends with him, especially with how arrogant he was.

“ Whatever.” Josslyn didn’t even wait for Yami to yell ‘begin’ before she began to use her steam magic.

“ Ah, so we’re starting this battle off by cheating,” Alistar said with a nod before using his magic to block her spell. “ How very ‘on brand’ of you.” He added, Josslyn rolled her eyes.

“ All’s fair in war.” She pointed out, which Alistar nodded in agreement.

“ You’re right. So, I don’t think you’ll mind if I just do this real quick.” Alistar then snapped his fingers and vines popped up from the ground into sharp spikes, suddenly a bunch of runes appeared on the grounds. Josslyn growled, he had set off her traps.

“ Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to sense your traps?” Alistar said, his same smile in place.

Josslyn began to run quickly in the circle, curse words flying out of her mouth as she quickly tried to think of another plan. Alistar hadn’t moved an inch from where he had been standing, he used multiple plants and vines to either chase Josslyn or block her spells. She stopped for a moment as she tried to think of how to get around him.

“ Let’s try this!” She shouted before creating multiple illusions of herself, just like Nebra would. She then began to use them to help her attack him.

“ Really? I thought you were smarter than this Josslyn.” Alistar tsked as he blocked her attacks again and immediately dispatched all her illusions, Josslyn tried to move out of the way but felt something wrap tightly around her ankle. She swore again as she looked down. One of Alistar’s vines had wrapped itself around her leg and was beginning to wrap around the other.

“ Seriously?!” She shouted as she tried to use her magic to kill the plant, she frowned as it appeared to do nothing. She looked up, Alistar’s smile seemed to have widened slightly.

“ That is an Air Plant. They’re resistant to steam, humidity, and mist. So your magic won’t be able to do anything to it.” He stated matter of factly. “ This is why your Captain won’t promote you to Vice Captain, you could have easily dodged the plant, and while you did have some good ideas and traps, you got a little ahead of yourself by underestimating me. You need to control your ego and your temper, otherwise you’ll stay stuck forever.”

As the white haired man spoke, all Josslyn could do was glare. These were words she had heard from everyone; Hikari, Her Captain, members of her squad. All it did was annoy her, and right now she wanted to wipe that irritatingly calm smile off his face. A smirk grew onto her face, since she couldn’t beat him in ‘actual’ warfare she decided to give ‘psychological’ warfare a shot.

“ Seriously? You’re going to lecture me?” Josslyn then laughed humorlessly before continuing. “ The man who's only been Captain of the Golden Dawn for a few months is going to lecture me?!” She shouted loud enough for everyone to hear. She couldn’t help but smirk in slight satisfaction as Alistar’s eyes widened.

The adults all looked at Alistar, he was the Captain of the Golden Dawn? Then why didn’t he say anything? Suddenly things began to click into place with all of them. Him knowing the reason the kids were sent back, the scouts, him keeping all those secrets. It was because he was a Captain, and was probably well informed of everything because of the meetings he had attended.

“ Josslyn!” Hikari shouted, she had been trying to keep Alistar’s secret up until this point. He hadn’t wanted the adults to know, because it would lead to nothing but questions, and currently his title was a touchy subject for him.

“ We all know how you earned your title Pretty boy!” Josslyn continued, ignoring Hikari. “ whereas everyone else earned their Captain or Vice Captain titles through hard work and dedication. Meanwhile, the only reason you earned yours is because of your dear sweet daddy and his favoritism towards you!” She added and suddenly, she felt two more vines wrap around her arms and bind them to her body.

As Josslyn finished shouting she noticed Alistar kept his head down, she watched as he shoulders shook. Was he…laughing?

“ You really are hot headed,” Alistar said, his voice eerily calm. “ You just shoot off at the mouth without thinking. Like everyone else you’d rather assume it was favoritism instead of actually thinking it could be because of my abilities.” He said, his voice becoming colder as he spoke.

“ I guess I did bring this on myself, I’ve been going easy on you all day. How about I show you what a real Captain’s abilities are?” He suggested, suddenly raising his head. As Alistar did, everyone noticed he no longer had a calm smile on his face, it was replaced by a serious one, and he had an almost wild look in his eyes.

As Josslyn began to ask what he was talking about she felt the vines on her arms and legs tighten and watched the sky above them darken. She saw a slight green tint appear and suddenly vines and plants began to rain down like rain drops. The adults and children tried to block and dodge the best they could, but as they did, the ground also began to turn a similar shade of green. More vines popped up from the ground and began to capture everyone one by one. The only ones that had managed to evade them were Yami, William, and Hikari.

“ Alistar stop!” Hikari shouted as she, Yami, and William began to hack and slash at the plants. A very faint sense of deja vú struck her at that moment, but she shook it away. She ran towards the white haired boy, but as she did more vines and plants tried to stop her.

“ Do you finally get it?” He asked Josslyn, his voice still eerily calm. “ I got to where I am today because of me, not my father! It isn’t favoritism, it’s because I’m strong enough to do this job!” He added, Josslyn just stared at him, her eyes wide in fear as she barely recognized the person before her.

“ Hikari! You need to get Golden Boy before he covers the whole area in freaking plants!” Yami shouted, him and William still hacking away at Alistars magic. Hikari nodded and ran towards him again. But suddenly more and more plants began to pop up, she had seen this once before years ago, and as she looked at Alistar she noticed he suddenly frowned.

“ It isn’t favoritism right? It’s because I’m one of the strongest in the squad, not because I’m his son.” He began to insist, more to himself than anyone else.

‘Are you sure about that?’ A little voice suddenly spoke in Alistar’s head. ‘I mean think about it; you’re a 19 year old kid who loses control of his powers on a whim, just like right now, when there are lots of other qualified people to take control of the squad. Who in their right mind would make such a decision? Ah but that’s right, your father isn’t in his right mind is he? I mean, he is dying after all right?’

Alistar suddenly snapped.

“ No! Nono it wasn’t favoritism! It’s because my father believed in me when no one else did, it’s not because he’s dying! That’s not the reason why!” Alistar suddenly screamed, falling to his knees while clutching his head. That wasn’t it…that couldn’t be it!

Suddenly, a katana made of dark spatial magic was pointed towards him.

“ Alistar! You need to get a hold of yourself or you’re going to kill everyone!” Hikari shouted, this scene was all too familiar. A memory that had been buried began to creep to the surface. A memory where Alistar was in this exact same position, losing control of his powers and muttering to himself, she shook her head again.

“ I-It wasn’t favoritism! I earned my place, it wasn’t a decision he made just because he was dying…that’s not it!” Alistar muttered to himself, his hands shaking. Hikari put her katana away and grabbed him roughly by the shoulders.

“ Alistar! Snap out of it please! You’re hurting everyone!” She shouted as she shook him, Alistar suddenly blinked before looking up at her.

“ You’re a Captain right? You’re supposed to help people, not hurt them. So please pull yourself together Alistar!” Hikari begged, Alistar blinked a few more times as he processed her words. His eyes became clearer and clearer, as the plants began to stop and slowly disappear is when she realized she had brought him back.

“ H-Hikari…?” Alistar asked softly, he began to look around and saw the destruction he had caused. Yami began to release Josslyn from the vines that trapped her, while William began to try and release the others.

“ W-What did I do?”

———

Thank you all so much for reading, I’ll have the next chapter out soon! I hope you all have a good day/night 🥰!

#black clover fanfiction #black clover oc fanfiction #children of the future #black clover oc #oc; alistar #oc; josslyn #josslyn is not my oc #oc; hikari #hikari is not my oc #oc; aloys #oc; ezio #yami sukehiro #william vangeance

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