#which is in itself a deeply unpleasant sensation | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hannahmanderr · 11 months ago

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HAPPY TRUCE!!! @cattherobot had some amazing prompts, and it was so much fun to get to think about this one! I really hope you enjoy the direction it ended up taking!!

And a HUGE shoutout to @scarletsaphire for helping me figure out all the dream/Nocturne stuff, she is The Person to go to for anything and everything Nocturne!!! Enjoy the Starry Eyed Dreamer propaganda! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Danny woke up.

His breath caught in his throat as his body tried to reorient itself. The sensation of falling was nothing new to him, between flying and getting knocked out of the sky during fights, but waking up to that feeling of being yanked out of sleep was always unpleasant.

Something cold coiled in his mouth and throat.

He was up and sitting in an instant. Or, rather, he tried to sit up.

Because he really was falling.

Panic seized him. He began to flail, trying to gain control over his momentum and steer his body into flight. Those efforts quickly proved fruitless.

What was probably more panic-inducing than his inability to control his fall was the fact that he couldn’t open his eyes. As if someone had glued them shut. He tried desperately to lift his eyelids, but they felt like dead weight.

Darkness swallowed him into its impenetrable folds, refusing to let him go. It was as if he could feel it surrounding him, wrapping him in a cool, heavy weight.

His core, apparently, did not approve. It sparked to life in his chest, sending a jolt through him. Danger, it seemed to whisper at him. Threat. Enemy.

With a yell, he let his core expand and wash over him in his transformation. At least, he thought he changed. He could only just barely see the light of his transformation rings behind his eyelids.

His instincts were screaming at him to fight back against this unseen villain - because it had to be a ghost, he’d felt his ghost sense, right? - and so he did. Ectoplasmic energy coursed through his veins and into his hands, and though he couldn’t see, he could feel its cold pooling in his palms.

He yelled again and unleashed the energy all at once. Kept unleashing it. Fired off blast after blast of as strong an energy as he could muster in his dazed, still half-asleep haze. Anything to ward off the darkness encroaching on him and surround himself in the light.

That darkness sang to him, something he couldn’t understand, something low and subdued. It wasn’t doing his haze any favors. If anything, it made it harder to concentrate. Like it was trying to lull him back into sleep or something.

Now that was a terrifying thought. His core wholeheartedly agreed.

And so he didn’t hold back. In a final fit of desperation to free himself, he allowed the energy to surround not just his hands, but his whole body. He concentrated, drawing on his core to feed into it. It wasn’t long before his entire body felt like he’d shot espresso directly into his veins, if espresso could be ice cold and electrifying.

When his body couldn’t contain it anymore, he didn’t try. It ripped through him in one fell swoop, leaving him feeling breathless.

And he opened his eyes. Sitting in his bed. Still in human form. As if it hadn’t happened.

But his breath betrayed the illusion. He sat there, panting deeply as his blood slowly warmed his body.

“What the heck?” he whispered to himself. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ It happened again a few nights later.

Truth be told, for as strange and frightening as it had been the first time, the experience had somehow slipped his mind. Between a super important history exam, a tumble with Ember, and three - no, four exploded inventions (one of which may or may not have been his fault), he didn’t exactly have the room in his brain to remember properly.

His forgetfulness made the second time around equally as terrifying as the first.

He woke up the same - falling blindly, the remnants of something cold in his mouth and throat, unable to open his eyes. Instinctively, he began flailing his arms and legs. Not that it would do any good, he realized belatedly, but he couldn’t help it.

He opened his mouth to shout and immediately found himself choked by the darkness as it flooded in. It filled his mouth, his throat, his lungs, cutting off his ability to breathe.

Panic began to set in again. His human instincts were going hysterical from the fall and the fact that he was apparently drowning in the darkness. His ghost instincts had already jumped into “fight” mode, screaming at him to fend off the enemy surrounding him.

What enemy though?

It was impossible to tell through the thick darkness. The only thing he knew about this unseen foe was the sweet song being sung to his core, the one that felt like a lullaby, ebbing and flowing like waves on a beach. The part of him still resisting its pull wanted to cry.

How could he fight an enemy he couldn’t see? One that he could only feel?

His lungs began to burn from lack of oxygen. His core needed little more than a single prod to flare into his transformation. This time, though, the light from his transformation was not visible behind his eyelids. The only indication he had that his transformation had actually triggered was the way his core jumped to the surface, nearly overwhelming him with potent energy.

The darkness still suffocated him, but the suffocation was at least somewhat more tolerable now that he didn’t have to breathe. It still seized his core and dormant heart in panic. The conflicting feelings that panic and of the siren song calling to his core stirred into a tumultuous cyclone.

He really didn’t like it.

He began to lash out as he did before, blindly shooting ectoplasmic energy into the abyss. Though he couldn’t see it, he could feel it as the darkness devoured his energy. For every blast he shot, it only hit with half the force he intended. The rest was lost to the void. It only made him panic more.

Why was it harder to push back this time? And why did the song feel like it was worming into his ears, trying to permeate his brain and infect it?

The words, if there were even words, were indecipherable. He could only understand the vague concepts it was apparently trying to communicate to him. Something in his heart leapt at the temptations of…

… safety.

Calm.

Rest.

Of course, all the things that sounded most tempting in that moment. He ached for them. To get as far away from the panic and terror the darkness wrought on him. His heart reached, trying desperately to -

No. This isn’t right. It’s a trap. It has to be.

He gritted his teeth. No. He couldn’t. He would not allow himself to be overpowered like this. He was Danny Phantom. Hero of Amity Park, Pariah’s Bane, vanquisher of some of the most powerful ghosts in the Zone.

(It made him tired just thinking about it.)

And so he prepared an attack like he had before. Letting the energy build up and simmer under his skin. Focusing on surrounding himself with his own, familiar aura. With the darkness pressing up against him, it was considerably harder.

He let it out with a desperate push. It worked - but only marginally. The darkness retreated, but it rebounded quickly, trying to seize him again. Panic creeped back in, and before he could fully process it, he was building up another pulse of energy.

The toll made itself known in his core. Using so much of his strength like this…

Well. He didn’t want to think about that.

It didn’t make it any less painful though, as he forced himself to prepare a third pulse. Fear fueled his overworked core.

The third attack proved successful. The darkness receded, and he could feel it as he slowly floated to the surface, like he had been underwater this whole time.

It was a much slower process than last time. Waking up felt like he was trying to pull himself out of a deep sleep. His brain felt hazier than ever.

When he was finally able to open his eyes, he laid there in his bed for a long moment, drinking in the comforting sight of the glow-in-the-dark stars he’d stuck to the ceiling years ago. They were dim at this point in the night, but the light they gave was still more than welcome.

The remnants of the siren song still echoed in his ears. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The third time it happened, his core nearly gave out on him trying to free himself.

Danny stumbled out of bed and to the bathroom. A quick flash of intangibility left his clothes in a heap on the floor, and he collapsed into the tub, yanking the faucet to the coldest setting.

He didn’t know how long he sat there under the icy cold spray of the shower, trying to rid his mind of the fog in his brain induced by the call of the alluring song. It had been louder than ever this time around.

He had nearly lost himself to it.

Shivering, but not from the cold, he pulled his legs to his chest and wrapped his arms around his knees. The water drenched his bangs and dripped into his eyes, but he couldn’t care less.

He didn’t think he’d be getting back to sleep any time soon. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “Hm.”

“What?” Danny craned his neck, trying to see around Frostbite’s bulky form. “What is it?”

Frostbite hesitated. “I see nothing wrong with your core readings, Great One. Perhaps some possible indicators of overexertion, but your core has certainly been through worse.”

“But…” Danny found himself at a loss for words. That had to be impossible. His core was still aching from the fourth fight to free himself from the void. Two nights in a row of fighting madly for his life…

Normally he would’ve sucked it up and dealt with it, but Jazz, perceptive as she was, saw the bags under his eyes and the weight in his shoulders and ordered him to get checked out.

Frostbite frowned in sympathy. “There could be other reasons for your exhaustion. I suppose it’s difficult to nail down, with your unique hybrid biology.” He tapped a claw on the examination table. “Tell me again what has been happening?”

It was Danny’s turn to hesitate. Part of him wanted to tell Frostbite everything - the darkness, the siren song, the increasing difficulty to fight it off - but another part of him bit his tongue. He couldn’t place his finger on it. It was a nagging feeling in his gut, urging him to keep it to himself. For what reason, he had no idea.

Frostbite noticed his unease. “There is nothing to be embarrassed about, Great One,” he said, kneeling down to look Danny in the eye. “Whatever is troubling you will not leave this room. Patient confidentiality!”

“It’s not embarrassing,” Danny muttered. He kept his gaze averted from Frostbite’s. “It’s - I’m just…”

He tried not to squirm as Frostbite watched him carefully. “Tell me,” the yeti said slowly, “have you been spending much time in your lair?”

“My lair? Like… Amity Park? ‘Cause I literally live there.”

“Your town may be your territory -” Danny pulled a face at that “- but it is not your lair. Do you mean to say you’ve never visited your lair?”

“I dunno,” Danny said with a shrug. “I didn’t really think I had one, I guess? It’s not like I need it, I live in the human world.”

Frostbite smiled. The look was somewhat grotesque, what with all the fur and fangs, but in his eyes, Danny could see care and… was that pity? “It seems you still have much to learn,” he said. Danny was grateful for the lack of condescension in his voice. “Come with me. I think it’s about time you were told about this.”

They left the medical center and began crossing the yeti village, towards Frostbite’s cave. Danny waved shyly at some of the cubs they passed, the ones whose eyes grew wide and ears perked up when they saw him.

He was really glad that the Far Frozen was a place he could go in the Ghost Zone and be safe, but he could do with a little less hero worship.

“A ghost’s lair is connected to their very being,” Frostbite explained as they walked. “It is something that is, in a way, automatically formed when a ghost first forms, whether they’re Dead, Neverborn, or even Formless.”

Danny’s lips twitched upward. “So you mean all those blob ghosts I keep finding around school actually have lairs of their own? Why do they live in my world then?”

“Blob ghosts are a bit unique in that they can feed off of the energy of others around them. They do not necessarily need to return to their lairs to recharge, so to speak.”

“Oh.” Danny’s fingers fiddled with each other. “And… you think I have one of these lairs? And it’s not Amity Park?”

“I suppose given your one-of-a-kind nature, it could be possible your lair formed in the human world,” Frostbite mused. “Though I highly doubt it. A ghost’s lair, you see, is the place where that ghost can go to properly replenish their energy. They are usually akin to little pocket dimensions attached to the Realms. It’s part of the reason the Realms are called Infinite,” he said with a laugh. “They are continuously growing as the population grows.”

“But that’s like… millions of pocket dimensions. How is that even possible?”

“I only said they are like pocket dimensions. True, they do not necessarily take up space in the Realms’ dimension, but unlike pocket dimensions, lairs are directly connected to the Realms. Otherwise they would not be able to get the energy necessary to replenish their host.”

“Oh,” Danny repeated. Then, “Oh! Is that why ghost lairs are behind all the doors and stuff floating around? ‘Cause the doorways are like portals, right? So are they like portals to the lairs?”

“For many, yes,” Frostbite said, beaming at his mentee. “The doors are simple, clear entryways for ghost lairs. They also help to serve as a lair’s marker, to ward off most intruders. Lairs are, after all, very private. It would not be healthy if others could simply wander in and out of a ghost’s lair as they please.”

“Probably not. So one of those doors out there is mine?”

“Quite possibly! With your uniqueness and your power level, however, I imagine yours is of a bit different nature. There are many that do not have such clear doorways. For instance, communal lairs, such as here in the Far Frozen.” Frostbite swept his arms to gesture to the village around them. “We yetis are of the same nature; thus we found it more efficient and more pleasant to reform our individual lairs into one larger, shared one. Of course, each of our members has their own place within the lair that is theirs alone, but they are usually small and contained only to the caves or igloos.”

Danny tried to fight down the unease in his stomach. “You mean I’ve been like, tromping around your lair this whole time?”

Frostbite laughed heartily. “Do not fret, Great One! You are our welcome guest. Though this may not be your home or your lair, we are more than happy to offer our hospitality. It’s the least we can do for Pariah’s Bane himself,” he added with a wink.

The title didn’t help Danny’s unease, but he’d long since learned to roll along with their insistence on using such names.

“So… does that mean my lair is here, in the Far Frozen?” he asked as they entered Frostbite’s cave.

The yeti’s face fell a bit. “I do not think so, Great One. The lair of a powerful ghost such as yourself would not go unnoticed here, and we have not sensed such a presence.”

“Oh.” Danny tried not to be too disappointed. As nice as it would be to have a place that was truly his in the Far Frozen, it probably wouldn’t have been the greatest location. “So then where is my lair? How do I find it?”

“Ah, now that is a task somewhat easier said than done. Have you felt particularly drawn toward any one place within the Ghost Zone? Your core has a connection to your lair. It will instinctively want to find its way there.”

“Um… not - I don’t think so? I mean, I haven’t noticed anything at least.”

Frostbite hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose it’s possible your lair might be farther out than most places you’ve ventured, though I would be surprised if it was too far from your portal.”

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologize, Great One!” Frostbite clapped a hand on Danny’s shoulder, nearly sending him tumbling. “There is no one surefire way to discover one’s lair. Many often involve a personal journey of sorts - recognizing who you are and what makes up your essence.”

“My essence?” Danny repeated weakly. The idea of having to go through some sort of self-discovery thing was not exactly appealing. He shook his head. “Wait, what does my lair have to do with what’s been happening to my core?”

“Everything, of course! Your regenerative biology is nothing short of a true phenomenon, but your human regeneration is only capable of replenishing so much ectoplasm. The ectoplasmic energy in a ghost’s lair is symbiotic to their core specifically. It is far more potent and revitalizing than generic, ambient energy in the Zone. Spending some time in your lair will help you recuperate what your body can’t reproduce.”

“I don’t -”

“A safe, nurturing environment, one that is conformed to you and your specific needs and desires, will also help you on a psychological level. Lairs tend to have that sort of calming effect.”

Danny faltered. He wasn’t completely convinced he needed to visit his lair to restore his ectoplasm, but he couldn’t deny the excited flutter in his core at the idea of someplace safe, secure, unable to be breached by his enemies.

Especially enemies attacking him in his sleep.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to find it,” he finally said, his voice quiet. “I barely have time as is with school and patrols and stuff. I don’t have the time to go gallivanting around the Realms trying to find this place.”

Frostbite’s eyes shone with a tender fondness. “Then allow me to provide you with something that may help you find it sooner rather than later.” He disappeared into one of the offshoots leading deeper into the cave.

Danny shifted his weight, feeling awkward standing in the middle of Frostbite’s cave. He’d been here before, of course, and spent plenty of time hanging out in here, but now that he knew the Far Frozen was one giant lair…

Frostbite may have tried to reassure him that he was more than welcome there, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was intruding.

The yeti returned shortly after. In his icy hand, he held a thin, decorated tube.

Danny’s eyes widened. He recognized it immediately. “The InfiMap? You’d let me use it?”

“Of course!” Frostbite knelt again to meet Danny at eye-level. “Finding your lair is vital to your well-being. I’m more than happy to do what I can to help you find it quickly.”

Danny smiled as he accepted the scroll. Carefully, he removed the cap and took the aging parchment. The shimmery, almost holographic surface of the map seemed to smile back up at him.

“Thanks Frostbite,” he said. Before the yeti could say anything, Danny launched himself up and wrapped his arms as much as he could around Frostbite’s broad shoulders. “I’ll bring it back in a flash, I promise!”

“I know you will,” Frostbite said as he returned the hug. When they pulled away, he kept a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Bear in mind that as I said, finding your lair may involve a bit of ‘soul-searching’, as they say. The InfiMap will hopefully help guide you along the way, but ultimately, the success of your endeavor will rest in you. And,” he added with a grin, “I would love to hear about your lair when you do find it.”

Danny laughed. “I think I can manage that.”

He hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Danny put some distance between him and the Far Frozen before opening the map again. Sure, he could’ve just started from there, but for some reason, he felt weird about embarking on what sounded like a pretty personal quest in front of Frostbite. The yeti had been more than understanding, thankfully.

By the time he found a spot far enough away from prying eyes, he was further out than he’d gone before. He wasn’t too worried; the InfiMap would take him back to the Portal in a literal flash.

His stomach fluttered as he unrolled the scroll again. The longer the idea of a lair of his own stewed in his head, the more exciting it became. Someplace safe that was his and only his? A place where he could even go to recharge or heal in private, without having to worry about anyone - overprotective friends and sisters included - finding him? The idea sang to his heart and core.

But with that excitement came a slew of nerves. He didn’t understand why until he realized…

Right now, this was his only hope of warding off that darkness and whatever foe brought it. In his lair, it wouldn’t be able to get to him. He’d be surrounded by his own energy, his own signature. He’d finally be protected, instead of having to do the protecting.

If he couldn’t find this place, he didn’t know how he was going to keep himself from being swallowed up by that darkness.

He shook his head and forced his fears down. This would work. It had to.

(A little voice in the back of his head refused to believe that.)

He inhaled shakily. A touch to the map lit it up, sending the familiar images of doors soaring into the air. Maybe one of those doors would be his.

“InfiMap -” he pretended not to hear how his voice cracked “- take me to my lair.”

The map shimmered and rippled. A glow began to encase it. Danny watched it earnestly, waiting to see the route magically appear.

Ten seconds passed. Then thirty. Then a whole minute.

All of Danny’s hopes came crashing back down as the glow finally dissipated. He watched the last threads of light fade into nothing, feeling like his heart was doing the same thing.

The InfiMap always knew where to go. Even if it wasn’t a destination you were intending, it would always take you somewhere. For it to fizzle out like this and lay dormant in his hands…

… it had to mean the place didn’t exist.

A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he sagged into a passing cloud of ectoplasm. “C’mon, Map, please,” he begged. “It has to be somewhere, Frostbite said so!”

It remained dormant.

Danny wondered if the echoes of the siren song in his ears were in his imagination or a horrible omen. “Then, can you… I don’t know, take me - take me somewhere where I can stop these attacks? Please?”

Still, it remained dormant.

The parchment cracked as his fingers tightened around it. A tear dripped onto its surface. “Please, there has to be somewhere you can take me!” he cried, desperation evident in his voice.

He thought he saw the map ripple again, over towards an older, more arcane part of the Zone, but when he focused his eyes on it, the image remained stubbornly still.

With a shaky breath, he rolled up the map and secured it in its container. He didn’t know what he was going to tell Frostbite. Especially after he’d been so kind as to lend it to him…

But the storm brewing in his gut spoke of another, much stronger concern.

He exhaled and pulled himself up out of the ectoplasm. It was fine. It was. He’d just force himself to stay awake. Never give the enemy a chance to strike. If he stayed in ghost form, it wouldn’t be too hard… right?

The map’s holder glinted harshly in the light. Keep telling yourself that, it seemed to say. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Danny didn’t remember falling asleep. Last he could remember, he’d been out in the downtown area, trying to occupy himself by weaving in and out of the taller buildings.

At first, when he felt his body falling, he assumed he’d somehow fallen asleep mid-flight, but when he found himself unable to correct his flight and open his eyes, he catapulted head-first into panic.

No, no, not again, please! Like all the times before, Danny instinctively opened his mouth to scream out, but the darkness was too quick. Again, it filled his mouth, his throat, his lungs.

The siren song did not start subtly this time. It flooded him all at once, assaulting his ears with its enchanting melody. He still couldn’t understand what it was saying, or if it even had words, but this time, it was so potent, seeping through the darkness filling his airways and using it to enter his body. With a horrified start, he realized it was making a beeline for his core.

His hands grew cold as ectoplasm sparked to life in his palms, and he began clawing at his mouth. If the darkness was tangible enough to suffocate him, surely it had to be tangible enough for him to grab it and keep that siren song from touching his core.

His efforts quickly proved to be futile.

The effect when it reached his core was instantaneous. He tried (and failed) to gasp from the whiplash of the change.

Though his human brain couldn’t fully understand the song, his ghostly core knew exactly what it was tempting him with. Sensations of security and serenity ambushed him and his defenses. His overworked core froze - almost literally, with the jolt of cold that spiked through him - and the power that had instinctively been building dissolved instantly.

You are safe here, the song whispered to him. You can rest here.

His heart listened eagerly. It wanted so badly to give in to the song. His core…

(It’s a trap, the darkness is an enemy.)

… felt torn. Almost in a literal sense. The exhaustion was catching up to him; his core throbbed painfully in his chest. It was revolting against the darkness pressing up against him and inside him, but it too was beginning to surrender to the siren song. It too was tired of the fight.

Yes. This is a place of respite. The song was growing louder and louder in his ears, resonating against his core. You will be sheltered here. Harm will not befall you.

The ectoplasm in his hands flickered.

Danny wanted to cry, but the darkness evaporated his tears away before he could even let them out. Maybe others would still be raring to go after only five rounds, but not him. He was too weak for this. He was running on only a few hours of sleep and the burnout of the aftermath of drinking too many Monsters.

He was tired.

Then rest.

The song began to wrap itself around his core, and the ectoplasm died away completely in his hands. His fall began to slow, and his body sagged into the air cushioning him.

He knew it was a mistake. That he would most definitely live to regret it, if he ever escaped. But he just… couldn’t.

Tiny pinpricks of dim light, almost invisible, teased the peripheries of his vision. With a start, he felt his eyelids fluttering against his eyes. The pinpricks were there, even when his eyes were closed, but even behind his eyelids he could see them very slowly beginning to brighten. Just a bit at a time, nothing explicitly obvious.

This place is yours. What will you make of it?

Barely registering the words of the siren song purring against his core, he reached a hand out, towards the tiny lights, and -

“ -ke up, Phantom!”

A hand was roughly shaking his shoulder. He laid on something hard and uneven. A cloud of hushed, frantic voices swirled above him.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with him…”

“Should we call the Fentons? Or the Huntress?”

“You think ghost hunters would help a ghost? You know how bent on getting their hands on him they are!”

“Well we have to help him somehow.”

“What about 9-1-1?”

“Someone’s already called it, I think, but I dunno what they’d be able to do for him.”

“C’mon, Phantom, wake up bud.”

That last voice was sharper, clearer than the rest. Right above him. The easiest one to understand through the thick haze he still found himself swimming in.

He tried to pull his eyelids open, but they felt weighed down by anvils. A tiny groan escaped his throat, and his head lolled to the side.

“Oh, did you see that?”

“See what?”

“I think he’s waking up!”

The hand shook his shoulder again. “Phantom, you there? We need to know if you’re alright.”

Danny’s mouth felt like it’d been stuffed with cotton balls. Or a mysterious and ominous darkness. Fuzz coated his tongue and mouth. “‘m fine,” he said, trying to work his mouth around the words. “Jus’...”

“It’s okay, don’t try to get up. That was a nasty fall you took.”

“Fall?” Again, he tried to open his eyes. This time he managed to pull them open a bit, enough to see a few blurry figures above him.

“You fell out of the sky!” someone shouted. Danny was too tired to wince, as grating as the sound was against his ears that had been so carefully caught up in the gentle siren song. “Turned around and bam! There you were!”

Danny smacked his lips together as he worked the fuzz out of his mouth. Horrified, he realized he must have somehow fallen asleep mid-flight.

His hands and elbows scrabbled against the ground as he tried to prop himself up, much to the disapproval of the person hovering over him. “I’m - it’s fine,” he muttered. “I think I… just got tired or… something. I dunno.”

“Can ghosts even get tired?”

“Shh!”

“Are you sure you’re alright, kid?” the voice right next to him said. Danny blinked, trying to bring the person’s features into focus. It was someone young, but older than him. College-aged, probably. “We can maybe drive you to the hospital if you need it.”

“You think they have the stuff to fix up a ghost in a human hospital?”

“Well, where else is he supposed to go?” the college kid snapped. “You want to use Zac’s brilliant idea and take him to the Fentons?”

“Guys, seriously,” Danny interrupted, his core pulsing faster at the mention of taking him to his parents. “I’m alright. It was - I just screwed up, alright?” He pressed the heel of his palm into his forehead. “I shouldn’t have been flying around while I’m so tired. I’ll be fine, really.”

The college kid’s eyes bored into his. “You really sure you’ll be fine?” they asked, sounding very much like they didn’t believe him.

Danny wasn’t sure he believed himself either. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ By the time Danny managed to extract himself away from the group of late night clubbers and make his way home, sleep was already tugging on him forcefully. He was only able to tumble through his window and into a heap beside his bed before it completely overtook him again.

The darkness resumed its onslaught not a moment later.

This time, though, he was truly too tired to even attempt to ward it off. The siren song found his core again, far quicker than before, and it began lulling him into its folds.

All you have to do is accept it, it hummed. Relief can be yours. You are safe here.

A little part of his core still protested against it, trying to remind him of the darkness invading him, but Danny couldn’t find it in him to try. Again, he allowed himself to sag as his descent to nowhere slowed.

The pinpricks of light slowly faded into view. He reached forward again, towards the brightest one.

What do you wish this place to be? the song crooned in his ear. Its melody fell in sync with his core and heart. He was almost surprised at how… right it felt.

He cupped his hands under the little light. Under his touch, its glow intensified all at once, nearly blinding him after existing in such a thick darkness. The light washed over him, and his core responded.

He didn’t know if he had the words to describe it. The sudden rush of energy in his core was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Like he’d just injected a dozen doses of Ecto-Dejecto into his veins. The ache in his core faded to nothing, and he felt more energized than he had in weeks. Months, even. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world.

A grin split his face. Eagerly, he reached toward another little light. It reacted similarly, flaring to life and sending a new rush of energy coursing through his veins. He flitted around the void, darting from light to light and bringing each to life. Each light renewed him, filling him with energy and eliciting the feeling of peace within him.

A feeling he’d long since forgotten.

He didn’t know how long he spent, flying around to each of the little lights; there were so many of them, he couldn't keep track of them all. For some reason, that didn't bother him. Just the joy from holding each light and the reward of energy was enough for him. He could hardly remember why he had been so hesitant before.

At some point, he stopped to look back at his handiwork. Much like it had the first time he’d fallen into the darkness, his breath caught in his throat, but this time, it wasn’t from fear. No, it was the sheer beauty and wonder of what the void had become.

The lights were shining, hovering above him, below him, to his sides, stretching out to the point where Danny didn’t know which way was up or which way was down. They illuminated the darkness, creating cloudy hues of purples and reds and greens and blues. Nothing garish, but enough to form visible nebulas that filled the area. Some of the lights shedded tiny, twinkling bits, falling into place amid the nebulas. It all looked like…

… space.

His own, little version of space. A shimmering starscape, as far as he could see.

He felt lighter than air. His heart pounded, his core began to sing the same song that had been tempting him for so long now. It didn’t feel so foreign anymore. He could almost believe it had been his core singing its longings the whole time.

The darkness wasn’t so scary when it looked like this.

A laugh bubbled past his lips, and he took flight, ready to find his place among the stars. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ When he woke, sunlight beamed through his window, bathing the room in a soft golden glow. The sight wasn’t as beautiful as his little space, but it was definitely a lovely sight to wake up to.

Danny yawned and stretched like a cat from his position on the floor. He laid there a moment longer, savoring the last images of the starscape fading from his mind’s eye. His core, still feeling refreshed and renewed, rumbled happily in his chest, right alongside his heart.

He still didn’t understand what it had all been, though. The darkness, for one thing, and that feeling he could never shake of a foreign presence trying to take him over. The memory of his ghost sense coiled in his mouth each time he’d fallen into the darkness still resonated strongly, and his ghost sense did not go off without reason.

But… could he really complain? He felt better than he had in a long time. He hadn’t been able to explore real space, but soaring through the stars he’d helped bring to life was almost more appealing. It had been a place he could simply just… exist, without having to worry.

He just didn’t know what that place was.

The glint of sunlight on something shiny hit his eye. Rubbing it, he lifted his head and saw the InfiMap, still in its container, sitting innocently on his desk.

His head fell back to the floor with a thunk. Right. That had been something he’d been dealing with yesterday.

It was strange, he realized. Yesterday, he’d been so stressed about not being able to find his lair, not being able to find a way to protect himself against that darkness that terrified him. Ironically, surrendering himself to that darkness had offered him a relief like none other.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea, at least for the long run. He didn’t want it to turn into one of those things where he was the fly being lured to the honey.

But until he could find his lair… it wouldn’t hurt to use the place granted to him by the darkness, right?

He sighed. He’d have to ask Frostbite about it when he returned the InfiMap. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Night had fallen once more in the human world, where the boy lived.

Nocturne’s mouth curled into a smile as silvery threads began to unravel themselves from the stars that formed his body. They stretched and snaked through the air. Some wrapped themselves around others. Other strands avoided some like a plague. Some threads were so similar, it was nearly impossible to tell where one began and the other ended.

Nocturne hummed to himself. He raised his hands up and out, over the sea of silver strands in front of him. With little more than a flick of his wrist, the threads began weaving within one another, creating a stunning tapestry of hundreds of thousands of threads.

His web of dreams was easily his most cherished tool. He prided himself in so perfectly and seamlessly weaving human dreams together into something stronger. More beautiful. Worthy of the boundless fantasies and enduring fears that dwelled so deep in the humans’ heads.

It was this web that allowed him to give life to these fantasies and fears, and it was those fantasies and fears that, in turn, revitalized him and provided him with a limitless source of energy.

It was a deal he found more than fair. The humans got to experience the joys and sorrows of his power, and he got the energy he wanted from them. Not stealing, not siphoning. Simply… completing the transaction, so to speak.

All along his web, his dreamscape, tiny sparks lit up. Some died away quickly, others remained. The individual dreams of humans traveled here, through his web. There was something poetic to it, all those dreams coming together to form a bigger picture. Was it the web or the dreams that fueled the other? The answer, like himself, was unclear.

Such was the way of dreams.

A tug from Nocturne’s side pulled his attention away from his beautiful web. He looked down to see another, single thread spiraling from his body, glowing brighter than the rest. Much brighter.

“Ah,” he said, reaching out to stroke the strand lovingly. “There you are, my little Dreamer.”

The thread twirled around his finger, and his smile grew. Normally, he’d be appalled at the sight of one of the strands of his web refusing to weave itself into the larger whole, but he’d long since discovered just how… special this one thread was.

Unlike the other strands, this one had no sparks. In many ways, it was the spark itself, outshining the others by a mile.

He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised when he’d first seen it. The halfling child was abnormally powerful, especially for such a young age. It only made sense that the boy’s strand would take after that power and manifest itself so strongly.

Of course, the idea to… take advantage of such an opportunity had occurred to Nocturne right away. If the child was powerful, if he could create such a tenacious strand, then that meant there was much power to be borrowed. The energy the child could offer him would be more than enough to satisfy him.

Taking it by force, though, had proven to fail miserably. Nocturne’s experiment with the humans in the boy’s city had been evidence enough. The boy, against all odds, somehow managed to find a way to break through the illusions and, quite forcibly, remove Nocturne from the city.

Nocturne hadn’t minded returning to the Infinite Realms. The human world was a place where he had little control, especially over the waking. He much preferred the pocket he’d etched for himself. A place hidden to most other ghosts and spirits. Sleep was, after all, a foreign concept to many ghosts.

The experiment, though it had been a failure, had proven fruitful in different ways. For one, Nocturne had gained a more thorough understanding of just how powerful the halfling child was. For another, he knew he would never weave the boy into his dreamscape through force.

A change of tactics had been required.

In a strange way, Nocturne could relate to the boy. Both existed in the inbetween, a place neither here nor there. A place few other beings could access. A place of possibilities that stretched farther than even a human’s wildest dream.

Life and death could easily be likened to waking and sleeping. And Nocturne took advantage of that.

Taking overt control of the boy’s thread had been simple enough, but the process of luring him in was anything but. The boy’s will was strong, after all, and a strong will often proved itself to be more resistant to Nocturne’s meddling. It didn’t help that said meddling had alerted the boy to Nocturne’s presence, even if he hadn’t been in the same physical space as the boy. The child had immediately rejected him and his presence, even with the coaxing he’d utilized. The boy had needed to fight, though, and that became vital to Nocturne’s plans.

Never before had Nocturne needed to focus such a large portion of his energy into wrangling a dream. He’d poured everything he could into seizing the child’s dreams and calling to him. He knew the boy would be far more willing to relax into a presence more similar to his own than an opponent’s.

What had surprised Nocturne was just how literal that truth was. Something within the boy had… tainted Nocturne’s energy. Not dirtied it, but simply somehow molded the energy to fit him more than Nocturne. For as ancient as he was, Nocturne had never witnessed such a phenomenon. It was a testament to the boy’s strength and power.

It had also proven to make Nocturne’s job much, much easier. The child’s exhaustion coupled with the evolution of the energy had managed to secure him after only a handful of attempts.

Only somehow, impossibly so, Nocturne couldn’t tell if the little dreamscape was his own creation or the boy’s.

The first time the boy had fully allowed himself into that dreamscape, his thread had shined brighter than even the full web of threads, as it shone now. There was something… unique about that dreamscape. Certainly not waking, but still set apart from the dreamscape of the sleeping.

Something… in between.

It had taken only a week longer from that first birth of the dreamscape for him to understand just what had happened, and when he had come to that realization, he couldn’t help but marvel.

Nocturne cradled the shimmery thread in his hand. “A special Dreamer indeed,” he whispered to it.

If the halfling wanted to use the little dreamscape for that, Nocturne would allow it. He supposed it was only fitting for a child of the inbetween to form his own pocket of the Realms in a place of the inbetween.

And Nocturne knew he’d get what he wanted. It was, after all, a simple transaction.

#danny phantom #phandom truce 2023 #danny fenton #frostbite #nocturne #danny phantom fanfic #fanfic #hannah writes #does it make any sense?#probably not #bUT HOPEFULLY ITS STILL GOOD I HOPE YOU ENJOY CATTHEROBOT

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willowskyfeather · 2 years ago

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i write now! i’m currently writing a 4 book series called guardians of greenhaven and just published a new chapter of the latest book :) here’s a small chunk of it

Pandora was shrouded in a myriad of negative emotions. She was entirely clueless regarding her whereabouts. The feeling of vulnerability was not one that she enjoyed, and right now she was drowning in it. The helpless girl was terrified to a severe degree.

Pandora didn’t know how just long she was out for, but the sight that she awoke to was deeply unnerving. Pandora fought arduously to salvage her energy, though her body was experiencing a severe level exhaustion. Her consciousness was unhurriedly dragging itself back to her, and the process was taking longer than she would have liked.

All she could make out while struggling to stay awake was a dim environment around her. Her body also felt cold, alerting her that the temperature in this unknown location was low. The smells that creeped into her nose hinted of old moss, slight mildew, and rain- an odd array of scents to take in at once. The product that the scent concoction created was nothing short of unpleasant and equally unwelcoming.

The entirety of her body felt weak, and her heart beat swiftly- almost violently. Her hairs were erect, all standing on end, and the goosebumps attacking her appendages were uncomfortable. There was a faint stinging sensation in her neck, reminding her of where she’d been punctured by the needle.

Despite having been drugged, Pandora impressively had a vivid memory of what had happened to her. She recalled sitting on the stairs, alone at Cornelius’ home. There was a party, and then a needle was poked into her neck.. And then..

Nothing.

Pandora could only remember that far, which was frustrating. Even if she did manage to escape this anguish-inducing location, her police statement would be useless. She could hardly remember a thing about the assault. Any information she would be able to provide would ultimately be futile.

Pandora gritted her teeth as she forced her weary eyes to open fully. The thin veils of flesh protecting her optics felt as though they weighed a pound each. The dryness of her eyes wasn’t doing her any justice, either.

As her hickory colored eyes slowly fluttered open with enough force, her surroundings subsequently came into focus. They were ominous, as expected. The walls consisted solely of thick concrete. This concrete certainly wasn’t new, as the majority of the surface was cracked and showed signs of weathering. The floor to the room was almost identical, but was much more dirty. Various stains were scattered across its surface area.

Across from Pandora, there was a medium sized torch propped on the wall, which appeared to be the one and only source of light for the room. On the floor, there were chains across from her in front of the wall, which made her swallow hard.

Due to the full concrete construction of the room, this indicated that the location was likely underground. There was no other visible furniture in the medium sized room. The only promising thing that Pandora could spot was the heavy wooden door to Pandora’s right. The light barely reached the door, but she could see the torch’s sparks reflecting off of something metallic around the door. With a heavy squint of the eyes, Pandora was able to see what it was. They seemed to be heavy chains fastened together with a thick padlock. This room was well secured, clearly.

There wasn’t much else to inspect regarding this uncomfortably disturbing place, but as more if the girl’s senses returned, Pandora realized her own posture throughout all of this; she was sitting upright. She could feel that she was sitting down on a wooden chair. There were tight binds around her wrist, locking her hands against the armrests of the wooden seat. Tied down, moving was clearly out of the question.

Anxiety and realization soon crept into her system, and her heart began to beat even faster than before. Sweat formed on her caramel coloured skin from utter nervousness despite being in the frigid room. Her mind began to race as she felt her eyes get wider with fear. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know.. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know anything. I need help, please. Help from anywhere. Help from anyone. I cant do this. Please, someone. I don’t know where I am, I don’t know where I am. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me and I.. I cant.. Pandora’s messy and frantic thoughts were accompanied by severe hyperventilation. Her breathing was shaky and heavy as she awaited her inevitable doom.

As much as she wanted to cry every tear that her body could form and scream until her vocal cords were swollen, she fought all of it. She kbew, deep down, that such acts would only make things worse. She had no idea where or when she was, but panicking like this would do her no good. She needed to preserve her remaining sanity and save her voice. As much as her mind told her to scream for help, she ignored her instincts.

The girl shut her eyes tightly, bawling her hands into fist as she struggled to get her composure back. After a series of deep breaths, her her rate slowed back down to its not dl pace, and jt mind began to clear. Het body slouched slightly as her body finally relaxed. The girl sighed, keeping her eyes shut. Having her eyes closed enabled her to slip into her own royals, even if it was just darkness. There was some sort of comfort in shutting her eyes, only being to gaze upon darkness. The only one in allowed in the infinite darkness was her as she wallowed in her own mind. The silence of the room was eerie, but that would change soon.

oh, you’re still wanting to read? here’s a link to the book :) https://archiveofourown.org/works/44390446/chapters/111644944#workskin

i would recommend starting at the first book, or you’ll just be confused

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mergeman · 4 years ago

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My New Ride

Five more months, that’s all I have left as Jack. He’s been such a delicious host; his spectral energy has sated me for the last four years. Now what was once a spectrum has diluted into muted primary colors that no longer satisfy my hunger. Don’t get me wrong I also give something back, not all the energy I consume is used; the shit leftover can be used to physically influence the host.

Take Jacky boy here, when I first met him, he was a senior in college. Just another average evangelical, toss a penny anywhere south of the Mason-Dixon line and it will hit one. To the outsider Jacky presented as a timid, underweight, nerd, but I saw the kaleidoscope of energies that infused his being. So, I took him, fed on those scrumptious auroras, then used the waste to build his body. The consumption of his empathy, patience and humility causes massive changes to the psyche. Now Jack is a narcissistic but charming asshole willing to screw anyone over just to advance his lot.

I couldn’t be any prouder of the man I created, but all good things must end. If I corrupt his essence any further, it will intertwine with mine causing us to become one. So, to keep living I started to scope out my options. Unfortunately, not much is available in the business world, the humans here are naturally corrupt themselves without any undue influence. As a passenger searching was difficult, Jack only hung out with petty sycophants who boosted his already enormous ego. I was getting despondent with each passing day, every person Jack encountered was woefully inept and would not be able to sustain me for long. I was so depressed that I almost missed the new neighbor that bought a condo in the same building as my penthouse. He was perfect! A full prism of colors radiated off this specimen, and to top it off he was easy on the mortal eyes as well.

Starvation was overwhelming me; I hadn’t fed in seven weeks and I knew that this new subject would be my next host. My hunger even affected Jack; he had become infatuated with this new tenant to the point of stalking him. Jack used his influence to dig up information on the new tenant, soon he had his name (Xylon), age (32), career (Charity Organizer), and even which gym he frequented. With this material he started to integrate himself into Xylon’s life, first ‘casually’ meeting him at the gym and becoming buddies, then later he got Xylon a contract to work with the charity division of his firm. My time with Jack was soon to expire, to make the jump both subjects should be naked and ideally in physical contact. The one big hurdle was that Xylon came with a long-term boyfriend, Jack though was not deterred by this, he wanted Xylon, and Jack always gets his way. After pulling a few strings, Xylon showed up at our penthouse bemoaning that he had found evidence of his boyfriends’ infidelity. I could feel Jack’s malicious glee that the anonymous texts had worked. Seizing the unexpected opportunity, he invited Xylon inside and offered him a drink, then another, then another. Jack was taken aback when Xylon looked into his eyes and started to kiss him deeply without any prompting.

Sexual energy infused Jack as Xlyon’s hand unbuckled his pants, slipped past his underwear to grab Jack’s hardening cock. Clothing became a burden to both men as they stumbled to the master suit. Xylon took dominance of Jack as he flipped the smaller man on his back, I could feel the steel like appendage enter through my hosts ass. I began the unpleasant process of unlinking my essence and prepping the transference. Slowly I send a tendril of myself to Xylon reaching for his nourishing spectrum. The tendril developed tiny barbs so I could hook into my newest host. My anticipation had so overwhelmed me that I didn’t notice the other presence.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Both I and Them quickly tried to retreat into our original hosts. Only it was to late, our energies had already stared to intermingle. Memories from my counterpart were bombarding me, I could feel myself loose definition as They and I were becoming one entity. I didn’t want to cease, I wanted to live, I wanted to feed, I wanted my new host. A rush of power came upon me and I channeled it into separating us. I could feel them also trying to retreat, our molecules started to unbind one by one as they and I went back to the safety of our original hosts. I was almost completely free when a new horror presented itself, in my panic I had consumed more of Jack’s corrupted soul, but I had taken to much. I was out of time with nowhere to go, Jack’s spectrum was now consuming me, and in my lapsed attention the linking to my counterpart regained strength.

Xylon was still pounding Jack’s ass, both were consumed with orgasmic bliss that they didn’t notice the physical ramifications of the internal struggle. It started at the feet where each man’s ankles were touching, the skin liquefied and started to swirl together. Sinew and cartilage detached as bones broke apart two masses of distorted flesh now supported the unaware men. The tissue started to twist and bloat as broken pieces of bone fused together to create a new more powerful appendage. The process crept up their legs, the fibers of the calves weaving together into a more robust muscle.

As the knee joint disintegrated and the nerves laid bare, They and I were using the last of our conscious effort to take our host’s excruciating pain and turn it towards pleasure. Neither man had yet to notice that from the thigh down they were one. More flesh melted as their pelvises were pulverized, Xylon’s cock pushed through the molten tissue and into Jack’s cock, stretching the sensitive gland like an overused condom. With each thrust of their fused hips the cock grew longer and girthier until the swollen, purple, mushroom head burst forth from the newly created foreskin.

A line of angry pink skin arose on Xylon, starting just above his merged cock and traveled upwards to the base of his neck. The flesh started to part opening wider as his abs and pectorals were bisected. Knowing the panic that the sight would cause We/They/I increased Xylon’s pleasure centers while simultaneously turning off his ocular nerve. The chest split through the sternum and the rib bones could be seen, as the cavity opened up like a giant maw. Jack’s arms were supporting him on the bed as the jaw like flesh wrapped around his torso enclosing them together. The internal organs made sickening squelching noises as each one found its companion. Jack’s spine detached itself wormed its way around the confusion of biofluids until it found its other half. Vertebrae unlinked with the sound of breaking branches as the two exposed nervous clusters found each other and became one. A singular spine reforged stronger and longer than what came before.

Where the shoulders met a bubbling mass of epidermis, muscle tissue and bone were coalescing into broad boulders that could support any weight. Four hands found the newly created cock and started to tug in tandem as the biceps and triceps lacerated and rejoined their strength. Fingers and thumbs melted into one another, the liquid state not lasting as new sturdier digits replaced them. Lastly their heads became like viscous slime becoming featureless as they flowed into one another. I could feel the moment that their minds touched, Jack and Xylon were suddenly thrust back into the reality of the situation. Awareness of I/They/We flooded them as they realized that these were the last few moments. I could feel Jack’s Anger/Regret/Sadness as recognition of what I had done invaded his mind. I also felt Xylon’s innate Hostility/Sorrow/Grief as what They had taken dawned on him. In their last precious moments both men were having identity crises as the WE pulled us all into ONE.

My first sensation was that of my hands gently stroking the giant shaft between my legs. Opening my eyes, I surveyed the damage, unused blood, bone, and strips of flesh covered the bedroom. Not perturbed at the grizzly sight I kept pleasuring myself with one hand while the other inspected my new nipples by giving each a slight pinch. A deep moan escaped my lips, sexual energy coursed through my new body. Abs tensed and my cock shuddered before releasing a torrent of cum that merged with the other fluids staining the room.

Satiated for the moment I became aware of a chime that indicated someone was at the door. I grabbed a towel to clean myself off then headed down the hall. Looking through the peephole I saw Xylon’s boyfriend Fitz standing there with a worried expression. Slightly annoyed I decided to open the door before Fitz could ring again. The poor twink of man started to say something but stopped as he took in the sight of my naked visage. I was shocked as well, for without the glass impediment I was able to see Fitz’s spectrum. A deep need filled me, not the hunger of the entities but something just as primal. Acting on instinct I grabbed the slack jawed younger man and pulled him into my lair. He started to protest but my mouth sealed him shut, picking him up I shoved him face first against the wall with one hand while the other pulled down his pants and underwear. My cock was hard and leaking pre as I began to spread his cheeks. With one swift movement I lifted the slight man up and impaled him on my throbbing member. I grunted as my cock took on most of his weight thrusting him up and down. I could hear him whimper as his face scraped against the wall, anything Xylon had felt had died with him, now all I wanted was fulfill this gnawing need. My balls churned and tensed, and I let out an animalistic roar as my seed shot out of me and flooded his intestines.

Lowering the hapless simpering man to the ground I could see a dark spot of corruption sprout within his spectrum. The darkness branched out touching each color while the living semen inside of Fritz entered his blood stream and spread throughout his body. The metaphysical and physical corruption reached his head at the same time, it was like a new room opened inside my mind. Suddenly I was connected to Fitz and he to me, he became an extension of myself. I looked into his eyes and found myself staring back in wonder. He/me slowly got to his feet only for another surprise to become apparent. My seed had not only connected us but had upgraded his body type from “twink” to twunk. The newly minted man approached me as He/I started to worship my body, Fitz/me asked only one question.

“What should I call you?”

“In public call me Jaxon. In private call me Master”

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readyplayerhobi · 4 years ago

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Jung Hoseok and the Magic to Happiness | 05

; Hufflepuff Teacher!Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst, future smut

; Word Count: 3.5k

; Synopsis: An unexpected issue with your Ministry of Magic job leads to you taking the role of Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts. It’s here that you meet your best friend’s younger brother for the first time in years, the Hufflepuff Head of House, Jung Hoseok. While you contend with seeing him once again, Hoseok tries to show you that he’s very much a man and no longer the gangly teenager you once knew.

; A/N: Not as much of an ‘interesting’ chapter as the last one, but hopefully you’ll enjoy it all the same! I know some of you have been hoping to see this character and what their thoughts are all about what’s going on. This chapter is more of one that’s just self-assessing!

Last Chapter ; Next Chapter

You don’t go to breakfast the next morning. Not because you’re trying to avoid Hoseok or anything, but because you didn’t fall asleep until the early hours of the morning and so slept through the morning meal. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had kept your mind occupied instead of letting you drift off.

Thankfully, no one questions your absence. It might be because most of the castle is likely sleeping in today or is packing for the Hogwarts Express. You don’t have to be present when the students begin their journey back to London and you feel that’s probably a good thing at the moment.

The awkwardness between Hoseok and you would be excruciating for anyone to be around, particularly yourself. So you’d burrowed into your duvet when the usual alarm went off and only woke up properly around noon.

You’re still in bed though, the covers pulled up to your chin and helping you to feel snug and warm against the constant coolness of your stone room. Which means that you’re staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom intently, brows furrowed as you think over the night before once more.

As if you haven’t already replayed every moment in excruciating detail, latching onto the most ridiculous things. For instance, you couldn’t stop thinking of what Hoseok’s lips looked like up close or the heady scent of him that no longer inspired only safety and friendship in you. How hot his hands had felt against you.

It was embarrassing how often that thought morphed into you imagining the same scenario but minus any clothes. Would his hands be warmer? Would they be as gentle as they’d been on your back last night? Would his hands feel soft on your bare skin or would you be able to feel the subtle callouses formed from years of caring for magical animals?

Groaning out loud, you roll onto your side and bury your face into your pillow. How are you meant to face him when all you can think about is the taste of him on your lips?

A delicate chiming causes you to peek at your bedside cabinet, eyes narrowing as the noise repeats itself. You don’t even need to check to see who it is; you know already. So you reach out and blindly grasp for the magic mirror, eventually feeling your fingertips pressing against the smooth, reflective surface.

Now your grimace is more because you know that you’ve just smeared fingerprints all over. But you don’t get a chance to clean it because as soon as you look at the hand-sized surface, it activates with a gentle tinkling. The silver mirror shimmers slightly and you’re left looking at the image of Jisoo’s pretty face, smiling at you.

For a moment, you forget that you’ve not even bothered to get out of bed yet. You’ve not been able to shower, and the crustiness of your eyes tells you that your makeup wasn’t removed either. You’d obviously been in more of a fugue state than you’d realised when you’d gotten back to your quarters.

Normally it wouldn’t bother you as Jisoo has seen you in much worse states. But this had been caused by Hoseok, her brother. Her little brother. Her little brother who was incredibly attractive, a great kisser and had looked at you like you’d hung the stars when you’d pulled away from him.

As you think that, you immediately remember his annoyance at any topic relating to age and feel like hitting your forehead. Chaeyoung was right; he did like you. Merlin, how stupid were you to miss all those obvious signs he’d been giving? The poor guy had been practically shouting it from the rooftop for weeks now.

“I’m so stupid!” You curse, spitting out a few more severe swear words after that to the surprise of Jisoo. It’s not helped when you notice how similar they look, maturity making the familial genes even more prominent between the two. Just your luck.

“Hi...are you okay?” She asks, her brow furrowing in concern and you sigh deeply. Ignoring her question for a few seconds, you take the time to push yourself up the bed and fluff up the pillows, letting them act as a backrest for you to prop yourself up. A quick spell cleans your face and mouth, studiously ignoring the fact that it’s considered lazy to use magic for these kinds of tasks.

Still, you feel a little more refreshed and not like one of those zombies from muggle television shows.

Taking a deep breath, alongside a few swallows of water from the glass you always keep by your bed, you pick up the mirror once more and smile at Jisoo. It’s pretty obvious that she doesn’t buy it though and you didn’t expect her to. She’s known you too long to let you get away with pretending, so you drop it quickly.

“I’m...okay, I promise. I just...I’m a little confused about something.” You’re not entirely sure that you want to admit the fact that you might fancy her little brother just yet. Jisoo is very open-minded and she’d always thought Hoseok’s obvious feelings when he was younger had been cute. But the unrequited emotions of your teenage brother are very different from the mutual attraction between your adult brother and your adult best friend.

“Oh? Did something happen last night? Hoseok was acting a little strange as well when I talked to him earlier.” The urge to sink under the covers is very strong when you hear that, but you use pure will to remain in place.

Of course, they’d already talked.

Scanning Jisoo’s face closely, you try to use your own best friend's sixth sense to see if she already knows that you’d kissed him last night. But she’s either a master of acting or she has no idea because there’s only genuine concern in her expression.

You feel the need to talk though and you want to do that with your best friend, even if she is Hoseok’s sister. The feelings you have are confused and you just want to try to sort through them all.

“I kissed Hoseok last night.” The words rush out in a breath, almost mumbling with how quiet they are. Still, Jisoo hears them perfectly thanks to the spell on the mirror. From the way her eyes widen in shock, you know that Hoseok hasn’t revealed that little tidbit to her. Part of you wonder if that’s to protect your privacy, but you don’t get a chance to consider it further.

“Merlin...so that’s why you’re both being odd! What happened? It was the Winter Solstice Ball, right?” Relaxing back, you nod and make an affirmative noise while chewing on your lips.

“Yeah, it was. It was all going fine, the students were having a good time and all that but then Hoseok finally arrived and-” Pausing, you frown before groaning out and running a hand across your face. “You don’t want to hear this! This is your brother.”

“Ignore that. As long as you don’t give me...descriptive details then it’s fine. This is one time that I have no interest in hearing about how well he kisses or what he’s like in bed, so keep that to yourself. Otherwise, keep talking.” Mortification runs through you at Jisoo’s mischievous smile and she laughs in delight.

“We didn’t do that! I swear.” Muttering, you reach for your glass and take another swig in an attempt to give yourself time to get yourself under control. Partially because you’re embarrassed about Jisoo thinking you’d slept with her brother so quickly but also because you’re feeling a little warm at the thought of sex with him.

A thought that you’d likely come back to at a later time but isn’t something to consider right now.

“I didn’t think you had. Firstly, you’ve never been the kind of person to shag someone on the first date. Or before the first date, I guess, as you’ve not even had a date. Secondly, neither is Hoseok. Don’t ask how I know, I’m surprised he didn’t blurt this news out this morning.” One of your eyes narrows in contemplation at that and you realise that you don’t want to ask.

The idea of Hoseok sleeping with someone else causes an unpleasant sensation to bubble in your stomach. Something else you don’t feel like analysing at the moment.

“Okay...well...firstly, I hate the word ‘shag’ and you know it. Secondly, I’m really confused right now. I mean, objectively I’ve known Hoseok is hot. Like, I’m not stupid. I have eyes and he’s well...yeah. But I think I’d always managed to have some kind of barrier between us, you know? Like...he was your little brother and he was just my friend here. But then last night he came into the hall and Merlin. It was like something switched in my mind, and I finally realised that he’s not just attractive, but he’s...he’s my kind of attractive.” You realise halfway through talking that you’re just telling Jisoo your thought process as you go through it.

She doesn’t respond though, just gives a considerate look with her lips slightly pursed before taking a sip of her drink. You don’t know what she’s drinking as it’s a mug, the image on the front just a generic cat. The fact it’s not moving gives away that it’s a muggle creation.

“And then we just kept talking, all night. Even when we had duties, we kept meeting back up and it felt so natural and normal. It’s like I’ve known him for all my life or something, our conversation is so easy and I don’t feel uncomfortable around him. You ever have that with someone?”

“Once or twice. It’s a good sign though. I know you’ve become pretty good friends over the last few months so maybe that’s why it’s all clicking now. Relationships that start from a solid friendship usually end up being some of the best. Maybe that’s why it’s all feeling a little more natural than normal. You’ve found someone that makes you feel comfortable and safe.” You wonder how many times you’d told Jisoo that her brother inspired those feelings within you since being here at Hogwarts.

As that runs through your mind, you suddenly become distracted with an entirely different thought.

“Hang on, did you suspect that I might like him? You’ve always been very accepting of my friendship with him and if I remember right, you’ve been the one encouraging me to spend time with him. Is that why you’re not surprised at this?” Jisoo’s cheeks blush a pretty pink, so like her brother that you can’t help but smile.

“I may have suspected something. I am your best friend, after all. And his sister. When you’re close to both sides, you notice things.” Her voice is teasing and you wonder if other people have been suspecting this as well.

Suddenly, all the times your fellow professors had arranged for events and Hoseok had happened to just be attending as well began running through your mind. Was everyone scheming?!

You’d never considered yourself a suspicious person before but you certainly were now. Seokjin and Chaeyoung, in particular, were going to be at the end of a very serious set of questions whenever you next saw them.

“In all seriousness, I didn’t think that you might like him. I just thought you were enjoying having a good friend at Hogwarts as Hoseok is someone you already know, so you at least had a link with him. You finding him nice to look at was expected; I’m not stupid, I know he’s pretty. He’s my brother and I’m gorgeous,” There’s a slight smirk to her smile, and you roll your eyes at her ego, fully recognising that she’s trying to cheer you up. “But you never really gave the inclination that you wanted anything romantic with him, so I didn’t suspect too much with you.”

Humming, your nose wrinkles as you look away from the mirror and contemplate her words. She’s not wrong, mainly because you hadn’t considered that with him until last night. Hoseok had been firmly in the friend box in your mind. It’s only now that you realise he’d been subtly creeping into the romantic box without you noticing.

“That’s because I didn’t realise I wanted that. I feel like I missed something really obvious, and everyone around me knew. I’m pretty sure Chaeyoung and Seokjin knew; there’s no way that they wouldn’t try to interfere. They’re those kinds of people, you know?” Jisoo giggles lightly, running her hand through long, silky black hair.

“Sounds like my kinda folk. Seriously though, don’t stress over it. All you’re going to do by over analysing things is get yourself tied up into knots. I know you and you’ll just talk yourself out of anything that could potentially happen. There’s nothing wrong with going for what you want if it’s going to be good for you. As his big sister, I can safely say that Hoseok will be very good for you and to you. He’s a good guy and I don’t want you to throw away a chance at happiness.”

You groan yet again, pulling one of your spare pillows to stuff your face into. Even if you’re feeling completely confused about what to think or do, you’re glad that you get to talk it through with Jisoo. She always knows just what to say and how to help you come to decisions that felt right.

Shifting, you sit up straight and look at Jisoo’s image in the mirror, feeling even more thankful that she’s willing to talk about this particular subject. At that thought you frown, knowing that she’s close with her brother.

“Did you suspect anything with Hoseok? You said that you got to notice things from both sides…” Trailing off, your eyes narrow as you watch the way she bites her lip in an almost coy way. It wouldn’t surprise you as she knows her brother far better than she knows you.

“Yes, I did with him. He fancied you so much when he was a teenager and I thought he’d just...grown out of it, you know? Neither of you saw each other for ages so I just assumed his hormones had finally settled down. But then he practically jumped at the chance to help you apply for the job and...well, he’s being very obvious lately. I swear, every conversation has to include you in some way and he gets this look on his face.” Jisoo says, brow creasing as she thinks back.

“What look? Does he get a look? What kind of look?” The questions pepper her but she doesn’t look annoyed by them. Instead, she just smiles before laughing lightly, taking another sip from her mug before taking her time nibbling on a milk chocolate covered digestive biscuit. It makes you scowl, realising you’d given yourself away once more.

“Yes, he gets a look. I don’t know how to describe it to you but it’s like...he gets this smile and I swear his eyes get all shiny. He’d be appalled to know I’d noticed this as he’s never come out and said anything but I know what he looks like when he likes something. Hoseok talks about you the same way he talks about anything else he loves.” The last word makes your eyes widen and you’re thankful Jisoo doesn’t comment on it.

She’s noticed though, you know that she has.

“Oh, okay. Well...I haven’t noticed.” What a stupid thing to say, but you don’t have anything else.

“Obviously.” Jisoo gives you a droll look, causing you to glare at her. It’s probably not as effective as you’d like given the two of you are hundreds of miles away and only visible through a reflective surface. Still, it makes her laugh at least.

Not the reaction you wanted but you’ll take it.

The conversation between you both falls into a lull, the silence of your room almost deafening. It lets you start to think once more and you don’t think that’s a good idea. Jisoo is right in that you tend to talk yourself out of things that might have a big impact on your life.

You’d taken a whole month to finally apply for the job here at Hogwarts and even then, you’d had to have Jisoo convince you that you should accept the offer when they made it. A good choice now, but you had a constant fear that big change might have negative effects on you.

The possibility of beginning something romantic with Hoseok was perhaps the biggest change you could do and it had the potential for so many repercussions if it went wrong. He was your work colleague, your friend and your best friend’s brother. It wasn’t like if you tried dating him then you could just never see him again.

Hoseok was likely to always be a part of your life in some way.

But he was such a good person and he could be something positive in your life, too. You found him to be charming and kind, funny and thoughtful, intelligent and attractive. There were a lot of reasons against trying a relationship with him, but there were so many more reasons for it.

“Would it not bother you? If anything happened then you’d be stuck between us, and he’s your brother so you’d have to take his side.” Your words are quiet, almost reluctant. Jisoo doesn’t respond immediately though, giving you the benefit of thinking seriously about your question before shaking her head.

“I would be stuck between you both if it ended badly. But I don’t either of you are the kinds of people to make me choose something like that. More importantly, I have high hopes that kind of scenario won’t even happen. I have a good feeling about this, for both of you. You both have to decide what’s right for you but...I don’t have any issue with it. If anything, it’d be great. My best friend and my brother getting together? If you married him then you’d be my sister-in-law and your kids would be my nieces and nephews!” There’s palpable excitement in her voice now, matched by the way she almost vibrates as her imagination runs wild.

You, on the other hand, feel your cheeks going warm with embarrassment as you try to follow where her mind is running. It feels a little overwhelming if you’re being honest, but you just push those thoughts away.

The last thing you needed was to start fantasising about marriage when you’d only kissed the man once.

“Jisoo!” You scold.

“What? I don’t get to live this life of romance so let me have my dreams. I’d rather you marry him than anyone else. Your babies would be so cute.” She wriggles in her seat, hands clapping and you’re reminded once more how similar the siblings are.

“Jisoo,” Whining, you pout at her before rubbing at your temple. “Don’t marry us off before we’ve even talked after last night.”

“Fine, fine, spoilsport. Anyway, it’s your decision. Yours and his. But just know that I think you’d both be good together. Don’t push him away because you’re scared, he’s a good guy. Not saying that just because he’s my brother, either. If you decide no, then don’t be afraid of that either. I know him, he’ll be a gentleman and will accept it.” You know she’s right and it makes you feel a little better as you take a deep breath.

Nodding slowly, you give her a weak smile before wincing when your stomach gurgles almost painfully. A glance at the clock shows that it’s been a very, very long time since you last ate and your stomach is not happy with that.

“I’ll think it through, I promise. I won’t make any rash decisions. For now, I need to just analyse my feelings and thoughts regarding him before thinking about anything else. But I’ll admit that I’m not opposed to the idea. As much as I’d like to continue this conversation though, I need to go get something to eat or my stomach might eat itself. I’ll talk to you again later, okay?” It’s only a few minutes later before you’re ending the spell on the mirror, watching as it turns into a reflective surface once more.

Placing it onto your bedside table carefully, you let yourself fall back onto the mound of pillows and simply stare up at the ceiling.

Of all the decisions you’ve made in your life, this one seemed to be the most daunting. Yet just the thought of his bright smile makes your lips quirk automatically, causing you to let out a breathy laugh.

Yes, he’d be good for you.

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bailey-reaper · 3 years ago

Note

A drabble where Barok finally asks his crush out on a date but everything goes wrong? with a happy end? :)

A Comedy of Errors... (but Barok's not laughing)

Notes: 😂 Even though I love Barok having happiness and love and kindness to counterbalance all the suffering and turmoil he's endured... I do also love it when he loses his rag at people / things go wrong and irk him. I *love* everything that goes on in his office during the 3rd case in the 2nd game... it's my favourite part of the whole thing! He gets so angry and it's glorious!

S/O is gender neutral (they/them pronouns). Barok refers to them using petnames.

Content Warnings: schadenfreude; cringe; things going wrong; frog mention...

"It's a date!" they said with a big smile and a rosy blush on their cheeks. It almost felt like a dream – Barok had said he was 'deeply fond of them' and invited them out to dinner with him; a date.

"Yes..." Barok nodded, similarly blushing but trying not to acknowledge it, "I'm... looking forward to it," and he was. Deeply.

"Me too!"

The two agreed to meet a week later at a restaurant that Barok was familiar with; he explained it was not because he thought his taste was better, but rather because he was on good terms with the proprietor and, thus, far less likely to be poisoned...

──────≪⊰✥⊱≫───────

At last, after a week in which the two of them thought of little else, the day of their date arrived. Despite a few annoying things going awry prior to him leaving the home, such as a button popping off his shirt when he accidentally rolled his shoulders back with a little too much gusto and his favourite cravat still being too wet to wear, he was determined not to let himself be downhearted.

He arrived at the venue promptly and waited outside for his beloved to arrive. Much to his frustration, a pigeon decided to relieve itself from its perch just above him -- leaving an unpleasant stain on the shoulder of his dinner jacket. Thankfully, he spotted it before his beloved arrived and was able to remedy it with a handkerchief before they saw it.

That didn't stop him scowling up at the pigeon, who flew off in a hurry as it clearly sensed danger.

"Barok!" their voice drew his attention, and took his breath away as they approached looking as radiant as ever. They were clearly dressed for the occasion.

"You look lovely," he remarked as he took their hand and kissed the back of it, "Thank you for coming."

They giggled, "The devil himself couldn't have stopped me."

He smiled at that, "I'm glad..." before offering them his hand, "Shall we?" they nodded, accepting his hand, and allowed him to lead them inside. Barok regarded the maître d and frowned slightly. Something was niggling in the back of his mind; déjà vu but not in a pleasant way, "Good evening," he pushed the feeling away. It would not spoil this date, "I arranged a table for two, name van Zieks."

"Ah yes!" the head waiter said, smiling, "Good evening, Lord van Zieks, allow me to show you to your table."

They were led to a lovely little table that offered a wonderful view of the inner courtyard and the fountain that was situated in the centre of it; it was an appropriately intimate space for a date. Barok pulled the chair out for his beloved and tucked them in, before sitting down himself. The head waiter handed them both menus and set a wine list down on the table, leaving them to look over the fare on offer.

"Wow," his beloved breathed, "This place is amazing."

Barok smiled, "I'm glad you like it... it's a fitting venue for one as beautiful as you."

They blushed and buried their nose in the menu, "T-...Thank you..."

"What wine would you like?" he picked up the menu to inspect the selection on offer.

"I think you're best suited to choosing that!"

"Hmh... very well."

Finally, the maître d came over, "Can I take the order of the two lovebirds~?"

Barok peered at him once more, cocking his head slightly as he studied the grinning man; there was definitely something... odd about him. It gave rise to the most curious irked sensation in the pit of his stomach, "Ahem... We'll have a bottle of the House Sauvignon--"

"Oh do forgive me, sir, we're fresh out of the Sauvignon Blanc..." the waiter said, vaguely apologetically.

"I see," Barok sighed, "Never mind... we'll have a bottle of the Moselle..."

"Mmmm... we're out of that one, too...."

"How about a bottle of Hock?"

"Sorry... none of that, either..."

"Well, in that case... a Burgundy?"

"... Ah... I regret to inform you...."

He grimaced in disbelief, "What the devil is going on... has your cellar dried up or some such? What wines are on offer, then?"

"Well... actually we're fresh out of wine, sir."

"Then why didn't you say that at the start?! More to the point, why bother bringing the wine menu over?"

"Well... on the other side are a number of other drinks that are available..."

"....." he sighed and turned the double-sided drinks menu over to peruse the other beverages on offer, "Fine. A bottle of Moët & Chandon. Black label."

"My, my! Someone has expensive tastes!" the head waiter remarked with a jovial laugh.

"..." The seething glare Barok offered in reply seemed to have the effect of making the man wither somewhat, "Just... tell me you have the damned thing in stock."

"Yes! We do indeed."

"Well that's a relief. Now, before we even bother with food, is there anything not on the menu?" he wasn't going through that... ordeal again.

"No, no!" the annoying man said with a shake of his head, "The kitchen is fully stocked!"

"A small mercy," Barok observed, before looking over at his beloved, "I'm... sorry about that rigmarole regarding the wine... what would you like to eat?"

They smiled and shook their head, "Oh, no, no, don't be!" then, they gave their order to the maître d before folding over their menu and returning it to him.

"Excellent taste!" the waiter said, before looking to the dour reaper, "And what can I get to delight you, sir?"

"Frogs legs to start," he said, "Followed by the steak, rare, with seasonal vegetables."

"Very good, very good!" he made a careful note, then took both the food and drinks menus, "I shall bring over your champagne in a moment and your food will be ready shortly. Do enjoy the wonderfully ambient surroundings, perfect for a date like this!"

Barok peered at the waiter as if he were more than overstaying his welcome; finally, he left them in peace.

"Gods..." he shook his head and sighed, "I do not remember the head waiter ever being that... vexatious. What has gotten into him?"

His beloved smiled, "Oh it really doesn't matter, I'm just happy to be here with you."

"Yes..." he nodded, "You're right, I'm delighted to finally have a chance to spend time with you... like this," it was a blessing that they'd reciprocated his feelings and were amenable to a date with him. No doubt most would be intimidated by his pseudonym and the general way in which he carried himself. But not them, not his beloved. They seemed to accept him as he was, and that was greatly welcomed.

They talked, mostly about how their weeks had been and about shared interests, such as the books that had taken their fancy of late. It was surprisingly easy to converse with them, which was a welcomed change from Barok's perspective. His beloved made for far more enjoyable company than the wooden aristocrats who drove him to the depths of boredom with their inane nattering and inconsequential opinions.

"This champagne is really lovely," they remarked, after taking another sip from their flute, "I'm not normally that fond of bubbles... but this has such a nice, fruity after taste."

"I'm glad you like it," he said with a nod; relieved that the beverage had a) materialised and b) wasn't corked or in some other way undrinkable. The way this date had been going thus far, outside of the interaction with his beloved, had left him wondering what else might go wrong.

Sadly, he didn't have to wait long...

"Your starters!" the waiter announced as he came over with two plates, their contents concealed by silver cloches. He set the two plates down, one in front of each of the diners, then lifted the first cloche, before turning to Barok's, "And, for the gentleman, frog's legs..."

Only, it was not frogs legs. It was a whole, live frog. After a few blinks of its beady black eyes and inflations of its vocal sac, the amphibian launched itself off the plate and into Barok's hair.

"What?!" he reached up in a bid to grab the creature, but his unwelcome passenger hopped out of the way and on to the floor, before disappearing in the direction of the kitchen. Barok glared at the waiter, "What is the meaning of this?!"

"Gracious me! I do apologise! I must have written 'raw frogs legs' by mistake!" the maître d said with a look of shock that was strangely disingenuous, "Do forgive me! I shall put in your order immediately--"

"Don't bother," Barok snapped, "Just make sure the main course isn't an entire living, breathing cow."

"Now, now, don't be ridiculous, sir...."

Once more he levelled the waiter with a withering glare.

"Please," Barok said to his beloved, "Don't let your food go cold."

They smiled, "Shall we share it, perhaps?"

"Oh..." that brought a blush to his cheeks, "No... I... couldn't possibly take from your plate..." but, to his surprise, a piece was already being presented to him. He decided against continued declining, and leaned forward to accept the mouthful, "Thank you..." he said, once he'd finished chewing and swallowing.

"It's good, isn't it?" his beloved said.

"Yes..." perhaps all the more so, having come from their plate.

──────≪⊰✥⊱≫───────

Thankfully, the rest of the date seemed to go surprisingly well -- in so far as there were no more frogs or similar cock ups (though his steak was medium, much to his disappointment, he decided against complaining as the mere fact the thing was edible was relief enough).

"I've had a lovely time," his beloved said to him as they finished off their dessert course.

"So have I," Barok replied, smiling softly, "Thank you, for agreeing to join me."

"Oh.... no... it's my pleasure... I've enjoyed myself a great deal in your company, Lord van Zieks."

"I'm glad to hear it... this has certainly been an... eventful date. I'm sorry, again, about all the oddities that have occurred."

"Oh, no, don't be! It's been a wonderful and memorable date, I loved every minute!"

"Oh ho! It seems this date has been a marvelous success, dear fellow!" announced a familiar voice. Barok knew that voice. It brought a scowl to his lips and a furrow to his brow almost instantly; as if the very muscles in his face were conditioned to respond in this manner.

"Herlock... Sholmes?!"

The maître d tore off his disguise and grinned happily, "Yes! It is I! You never suspected a thing!"

"... What are you doing here?!"

"Why! I had heard rumours that the Reaper was going on a date, so Iris and I took bets on whether that was the truth or not. Alas, it seems I now owe her five pounds..." he looked momentarily crestfallen, "But who can be glum when such a lovely couple is here before them? Truly, you two are as sweet as syrup together!"

"Hehe, thank you," his beloved smiled happily at the compliment.

". . . . . . . So you came to sabotage my date?" Barok hissed.

"What?! No! I came to ensure that you had a most memorable and eventful night, and I think I've exceeded expectations on all fronts!"

"You have indeed!" they said, nodding.

"Well," Barok folded his arms, "In that case, I shall leave the bill to you," he stood up smoothly and took his beloved by the arm.

Sholmes fell over, arms flailing, "Wait... WHAT?!"

"Farewell, 'detective'," Barok called over his shoulder as he escorted his beloved out the door. It brought him no end of delight to think that the man would be washing pots until the early hours.

(Let that be a lesson to you, you second-rate crime scene botherer!) he thought, smirking to himself. This was a most pleasing end to what had been a wonderful date, despite Herlock's meddling.

"You have some truly interesting and intriguing friends, Barok," his beloved observed as he walked them home.

"I'm not certain that 'friend' is the correct word here, my dear," he replied, though he was still smiling to himself as he held their hand and squeezed it fondly. It seemed that despite the ... characters that plagued him, they were not enough to deter his beloved.

That was certainly a huge relief.

#barok van zieks #Barok x Ors #request #silliness #fluff #cw: frogs

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aquilacraft · 3 years ago

Text

Hermitcraft Minesona-Insert Fanfic - Chapter 1 - Untitled

I never came up with a good title for the first chapter so I'll just call it "Untitled"

Word count: 3,154

Content Warnings: Brief needle mention, fire

Season: 6

Hermits: Goodtimewithscar, DocM77, Grian

Please let me know if there any content warnings you want me to add and what tags you'd like me to use for proper filtering.

The main character for this story is my minesona Forrest, a half-fox-half-blaze. They/Them pronouns, about 2.5 blocks tall. The fires on their body flare up for die down in response to their emotions.

The whooshing, swishing sounds of the Nether portal rung loudly in my ears, enveloping all of my senses and nearly suffocating me. The first time I had entered a portal, I had been so horrified by the experience that the only thing that convinced me to go back through was that otherwise I would have been stuck in the Nether for the rest of my life. Which most blazes would consider ideal, but being part fox kind of threw that out the window.

At this point, however, I was almost completely used to the sensation. Sure, it was unpleasant, maybe a little painful, but manageable - like getting a blood test.

Soon enough, I could feel the obsidian beneath my feet again and I took a step forwards - immediately falling down a block and landing on my face. That was weird, I thought, hadn’t I built my portal into the floor? And why was I feeling grass beneath me instead of yet more netherrack and obsidian which I had used to decorate my portal room? I lifted myself up carefully - rubbing my snout as a dull pain set in - and squinted against the sun shining directly in my eyes.

“Freeze in the name of self-proclaimed base security!” A commanding, American voice startled me out of my confusion and - having pushed myself up to be half-standing - I fell down once again, this time landing on my behind. I levered myself up on my arm and lifted a hand to shield my eyes against the cubed sun’s rays as two figures stepped in front of me. The light silhouetted them, but even so I could see they were adorned in diamond armour and elytra. One held a sword and the other brandished a trident over his head.

“Who are you?” One of the figures asked in a rather thick German accent. I didn’t respond - what was I supposed to say? Since entering my world, I’d been completely alone - give or take the odd wandering trader - so one can imagine the utter shock I felt upon meeting other people. I mean sure, I could talk with other foxes and blazes, but they were never really much for conversation. Foxes talked about nothing but berries and trees and conversations with a blaze typically went nowhere beyond “fire good.”

My mind went blank and my mouth opened and closed, trying and failing to form words. As I stared (or rather, squinted - the sun was very bright) in shocked silence, I almost didn’t register the figures talking to each other until the one with the trident threw it at my head, almost knocking me out.

The previous shock jolted out of me and now replaced with fear, I scrambled to my feet and sprinted away as fast as my long legs could carry me, stumbling slightly at first as I recovered from the knock to my head. I could hear the figures yelling at me to stop, to surrender, and I felt the breeze of the trident as it whizzed past me, embedding itself deeply in a block of grass. Had I been able to form a coherent thought at the time, I probably would have thought myself a little lucky - that it would take forever to pry that weapon from the ground - but almost immediately, it sprung from the grass and flew back to its owner as if by it’s own will.

Driven on by sheer panic and adrenaline, I raced into the woods, narrowly avoiding multiple collisions with trees, and soon found myself bounding up multiple blocks as the ground inclined into a hill.

The voices were getting quieter - thank goodness for my long legs - and the adrenaline slowly ebbed, leaving me exhausted and shivering. I slowed to a stop and rested my hands on my knees, my lungs burning and my whole body trembling uncontrollably. I fought the overwhelming urge to sit and rest - knowing that if I did, I would be found.

Just great - after years alone, the first other people I find want to kill me. Which, in hindsight, shouldn’t have been much of a surprise. I mean, I was half-aggressive mob after all. But come on, it wasn’t like I wanted to burn everything to the ground like a regular blaze, or kill any chickens I saw like a normal fox. Well….. Okay, maybe I did enjoy killing chickens, but at least I was able to control myself, unlike the wild foxes I had seen who seemed to go into a berserker mode every time they saw one. Heck, I’d raised a chicken from an egg as a pet without killing it. So I was definitely beyond my arsonist, poultry-murdering relatives.

My breath slowed and my trembles relaxed, though I still shook slightly, and I was finally able to take in the world around me. Not that there was currently much to take in, having ran into a dense forest with nothing but trees in every direction.

My sensitive ears pricked at the sound of a cow meandering casually nearby, followed by the soft munching of a sheep helping itself to a grass block. These familiar sounds soothed me somewhat, until I was met with one that was not so familiar. Not too far away, in the direction I had been running towards, I could faintly hear pop music playing. Curious, and not knowing what else to do, I wandered in the direction of the music until the forest ended and opened into a clearing through which I could see a large wooden fence with an even larger wooden archway entrance, leading the way into a - dare I say - stunningly beautiful crop garden.

Now even more curious, I began to make my way towards it, until a thought struck me. There would certainly be more people here, and considering the last ones to see me had tried to kill me, I doubted I would be welcomed with open arms.

But my curiosity was eating away at my brain - I had to see what was beyond that garden where the music was coming from. And so I turned to the nearest tree and began punching blocks. Soon enough, I had a small tree trunk in my hand, which I began placing directly beneath me between jumps, until I was able to leap onto another tree.

From there, I jumped to another, and another, until I had found my way past the wall, past the garden and was now overlooking what seemed to be… a hippie camp?

Three RVs were parked in the clearing near a campfire. One sported some rather flashy peace signs, one seemed only to hold flowers, and one… didn’t really have any defining features. A wooden jukebox stood upon wooden stilts near the nondescript RV, blasting out tunes which almost made me want to tap my foot along to the beat.

A few minutes passed before I realised I had been zoning out, listening to the music, and I was jolted back to reality when the odd RV’s door swung open and a person strolled out. He was a little hard to see at first - thanks to my lack of a right eye - but I could see that he wore a red jumper, black trousers, sandals and was decorated with a rainbow bead necklace and flowers in his hair. I smiled a little at his appearance - he almost looked like he’d only half-assed this whole hippie thing and had just decided to throw the necklace and flowers over his regular clothes.

He stood for a moment with his head held up and his eyes closed, probably warming himself in the sun. I watched him for a little while, but he didn’t move, so I turned my attention to elsewhere. Or at least I tried to as I was almost immediately interrupted by a shout.

My head snapped back to the man in front of the RV who was now looking directly at me and waving his arms.

Stricken with panic for the second time that day, I turned to flee but immediately lost my footing and tumbled to the ground, landing on my right shoulder and causing a jolt of a pain to shoot through it. I lay where I was, winded and unable to move, still struggling as I heard footsteps approaching. Driven on once more by my fear, I managed to roll myself over until I was on my back and gasped for air. I didn’t have time to figure out my next move, as a figure rounded the tree in front of me and stared down at me in surprise.

It was the same man from the RV. Up close, I could now see the flowers in his hair wilting slightly, and his skin and clothes were smudged all over with dirt as though he had been digging.

“Hey, are you alright?” He asked, taking a step closer. Still running on fear, I shifted backwards, causing him to stop in his tracks. We stared at each other in surprised, afraid and confused silence for a while as my shivers gradually returned.

“Do you need help?” He asked hesitantly. I didn’t move or speak, and I hardly blinked, not daring to take my eye off him in case he tried something. He held his arms up as though surrendering. “I’m not armed.” He stated, and slowly began to move towards me. My mind was racing, hints of words and ghosts of questions racing through my head. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t move. But I found myself being helped up from where I lay.

I moved almost in a trance - my fear clouding any other emotion or thought - until a sharp pain in my arm broke the spell. I cried out quietly and hunched over, clutching my injured shoulder.

The pain caused me to stumble, but this strange hippie man threw his arm in front of me and caught me before I toppled over again.

Wordlessly, I allowed myself to be led through the trees into the RV camp, and sat down in front of an open fire pit. Once again, I was moving almost in a half-trance, having exhausted myself with the unexpected rushes of fear and adrenaline. I didn’t fully trust this man, but I was almost asleep, and he certainly hadn’t tried to kill me like the last two.

I heard him speaking - at least I think I did - but I don’t recall any of the words he said before finally blacking out.

I groaned against the sunlight stabbing at my eyelid. I swore I built the windows so they wouldn’t let the morning sun shine in my face like that. Why were the bed sheets so rough and scratchy? And why could I hear a small fire crackling? Other than the one I was made of, of course.

Ever so slowly, I forced myself into a sitting position, some awareness thrown at me in the form of yet another pain in my shoulder, which I was forced to sit through as my free arm felt stiff and protested painfully when I tried to move it. Oh yeah, I fell out of a tree. While spying on an RV camp. In a place that definitely wasn’t my home. I opened my eye to find that I had passed out on the grass in front of the campfire, and a thin blanket had been draped over me. What I had thought were scratchy bedsheets was actually well-trodden grass, which probably would have bothered me had I not been half-wild animal.

A small groan drew my attention and I turned to find a strange man in a red jumper also waking up only a few feet away. I was confused for a second until the events of the previous evening finally came back to me.

He stretched and yawned before turning around and noticing me. He gave me a friendly smile.

“Morning,” he greeted in a voice as cheery as one can manage immediately after waking up. I managed a small smile in response. He finished stretching and sat facing me, an expecting smile on his face. Unsure of what to do or say, I looked down at my lap to avoid his gaze and remained silent. An uncomfortable silence stretched between us for a few seconds before he cleared his throat and began to speak.

“How’s your shoulder?” He asked, “I noticed it seemed to be in a bit of pain yesterday.” I subconsciously pulled my injured arm closer to my chest, wincing slightly at the dull pain the movement caused.

“No better,” I admitted quietly. He seemed to relax a little now that I was talking, so he continued to push for another response.

“I haven’t seen you before,” he said in a matter-of-fact manner, “you’re the second newcomer around here recently.”

“Second?” I echoed.

“Yeah, Keralis joined the other week,” he continued, “although he has been here before. Way before I showed up. You, on the other hand, I don’t think have ever been here before, have you?” I shook my head. We sat in silence for a few more seconds before he spoke again. “What’s your name?” I hesitated, still not sure if I could trust him. On the one hand, the only other people I’d met in this place had immediately tried to kill me. On the other hand… he hadn’t.

“Forrest,” I finally answered. He gave a small hum, as though mildly surprised, but pleased that I had answered.

“I’m Grian,” he introduced himself. “If you don’t mind my asking, I couldn’t help but notice that you were in a bit of a panic last night, and not just because of me. What happened?” I hesitated again. Was he friends with them? Was he going to attack me if I told him that others had? Would he hand me over to them? I didn’t get a chance to decide what to say before he spoke again. “Let me guess,” he said, “you ended up in Area 77 and Doc and Scar tried to stop you.” I stared at him in confusion.

“W-well…” I stammered, caught off-guard and suddenly finding my brain go blank - a common and very frustrating occurrence. “I don’t know who they were, they were silhouetted against the sun, but yes they were trying to catch me, although at the time it felt more like they were trying to kill me.” Grian smiled, half amused, half sympathetic.

“Yup, that’s Doc and Scar,” he said, as though this was typical, “They’ve been alien hunting lately, locking up anything they think is dangerous. They also stole my time machine.” I frowned.

“You… have a time machine?” I asked. Grain nodded.

“I made it because my diamonds got stolen, so I went back in time to grab them before they could be stolen.” He explained. I thought for a moment.

“But… doesn’t that mean that you-” I trailed off.

“Yeah, I stole from myself,” Grian grinned, “I can be a bit of a goof sometimes.” I found myself smiling. “Can I trust you with a secret?” He asked. I thought for a moment. He seemed genuinely nice. He had helped me, explained what was going on and why I was attacked. It also sounded like he was a victim of Area 77’s actions too. I nodded.

Grian stood up and beckoned for me to follow him towards the RV I had seen him come out of the previous night. He let us both in - I had to crouch to fit - and removed a quartz slab from the floor, revealing a hole stretching down multiple blocks, with a ladder leading down it. He started climbing, gesturing once more for me to follow - so I did.

Climbing ladders becomes considerably harder when the space you’re climbing in is one block in diameter and you have a large tail made of fire. Sure, the tail helped me to balance, but I also risked stepping on it a lot, and I had to be careful not to set the ladders on fire. Well, the fire wasn’t always dangerous - I’d learned to control it a long time ago to avoid burning down my house - which was primarily made of wood. If I stayed calm the fire was perfectly harmless and anyone could touch it if they wanted to, but I had to keep a lid on my emotions to avoid it flaring up. Frustration, excitement and anger could cause quite the nasty blaze, which never bothered me much outside of accidentally burning a few things down. But now that I was around other people, I’d have to keep a closer eye on it so I didn’t hurt anyone.

I eventually found an angle to hold my tail at so that I wasn’t constantly stepping on it, which was a relief as constant tail-stepping could get quite frustrating. And I’ve already explained why that’s a bad thing.

Grian was clearly trying and failing to hide the massive grin on his face as I turned around and took in the massive cave in front of me. The walls and floor were lined with dirt - both coarse and regular - and a couple of diggers sat positioned, ready to keep working. Grian giggled.

“Wait ‘till you see the best part!” He practically skipped over to the wall on my left and hoed a single piece of dirt. I hardly had time to be confused before a four by four hole in the wall split open, revealing a hidden tunnel. I walked towards it, my mouth hanging open slightly as I observed. Grian was still grinning from ear to ear.

“What is all this?” I managed to ask.

“It’s a massive secret,” Grian replied, “a tunnel into Area 77 where hopefully I’ll be able to get my time machine back.”

Laughter echoed through the cave, but it wasn’t Grian’s. It was mine. I didn’t know why I was laughing, but something about this whole situation amused me. Grian chuckled along with me.

“This is crazy!” I giggled.

“Yup,” Grian agreed, “but I’ve come up with crazier schemes.” I raised an eyebrow disbelievingly until I saw his smile. That was absolutely the smile of a man who would gladly cause all kinds of havoc. I found myself laughing again.

“So, why did you show me this?” I asked, finally composing myself.

“Well, the hippie commune right now is less of a commune than it is two blokes in RVs,” he replied, making me chuckle again, “we could always do with another member.”

What a crazy experience. Having expected to arrive home as normal, I was now in a new world where I immediately got chased, fell out of a tree and got recruited by a trouble-making hippie. I looked at Grian again, who was still waiting for me to answer him with a big grin still on his face.

“What the heck?” I replied, “let’s do it.”

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft 6 #hermitcraft season 6 #hermitcraft s6 #minesona #hermitblr #grian #goodtimewithscar #goodtimeswithscar #docm77 #minecraft blaze #minecraft fox #fanfiction #hermitcraft fanfic #hermitcraft fanfiction #aquila thinks #aquila writes #area 77 #hermitcraft area 77

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undertalethingems · 4 years ago

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Unexpected Guests Fic Extra: Feeling Spine

I finally have another fic extra to share! We’re long overdue for some blaster shenanigans, and this chapter focuses almost entirely on our favorite skeletal beasts! 1.8k and taking place between Chapter 5 and 6 of the comic, it’s something of a flashback to simpler times...

Sans’ blaster basks on a warm summer day, but the peace is soon disturbed... by a simple chunk of wood lodging itself in places it doesn’t belong.

It was a beautiful day outside.

Birds were singing...

Flowers were blooming...

A giant skeletal creature stretched, its bones scraping against one another as it shifted. It yawned widely, then flopped heavily on its side. Oh yeah. This was great. The sun was warm, the grass was cool... It drew a deep, contented sigh.

Everything was okay. There was no fear coming from its caster today, only a low current of fatigue and mild amusement. The casters and their human friend were away somewhere to have fun. They didn't need protecting right now.

Sans' blaster stretched again, talons stretching wide before it curled them up to its chest and wriggled in the overgrown grass, brushing it against its bones, scratching and scraping. With a huff, it rolled to its other side and wriggled again, uttering contented clucks as it kicked and writhed comically before flopping with limbs outstretched. It heaved another deep breath, and closed its eyes.

A twinge.

The blaster opened its eyes. Something wasn't right. The twinge came again--a prod in its spine. It lifted its head to inspect--no, there was nothing touching it. But it still felt... bad. The blaster grumbled, laying its head back down. But ignoring the sensation did nothing--it just kept pinging again and again. Unable to stand it any longer, the blaster rolled onto its belly and stood, then shook itself with an almighty clatter to dislodge whatever was causing the issue. Mid-shake, the blaster spasmed, then froze, uttering a distressed whine.

The feeling was worse.

A sharp pressure had wedged itself into the blaster's back. Panting, it tried to turn and arch its neck to see what was bothering it--but could only just make out something dark caught between its vertebrae. It strained to reach with its neck, then its hand, then scratching at it with a foot, all to no avail. It wasn't flexible enough. With a rasp, it flopped back to the ground, rolling and scratching to dislodge the debris caught in its back. It got up and tried to shake--only to shudder.

Its efforts hadn’t worked, and the thing was still there.

It uttered a frustrated groan, eyes darting as it thought. There! It shuffled to the nearest tree and rubbed against it, scraping and scratching and sending a hail of bark showering down. But the thing wouldn't budge. The blaster growled, and gingerly shook itself again before ambling off. It needed help.

Stumbling sideways, it made its way closer to the house and called. In an instant, Papyrus' blaster had come trotting, distracted from chewing apart one of the remaining spare tires it had been given to play with. It tilted its head and trilled curiously, and Sans' attack replied with a mournful hoot as it laid down. It tossed its head over its back and made small nibbling motions, showing where it wanted to be preened and made little whiny noises. Papyrus blaster looked it over, then ambled closer, sniffing and inspecting for what didn't belong. It found it--a small chunk of wood was jammed into it's sibling's spine. It clucked, and tried to pull the debris out with its teeth, but couldn't get a grip--the wood wedged too deeply, its teeth too imprecise. It huffed, and clumsily raised a claw to dig at the offending particle. Sans' blaster watched nervously, wincing occasionally as the other tried its best to remove what ailed it.

But no matter how much Papyrus' blaster poked and prodded, the scrap stayed. It gave Sans' attack an apologetic warble and laid down next to it, fussing. Sans' blaster sighed, trying to ignore the sensation for a while before getting up once more. It had to get rid of that thing.

It scraped up against more trees, rolled in the brush, shook and rattled its bones. But no matter what it did, the wood fragment remained, and it was now caked in torn grass and bark from the attempts to remove it. Nothing had worked.

Sans' attack threw its head to the sky and gave an anguished howl, then flopped to the ground. It had been defeated. There was nothing left to do but accept its miserable fate.

Papyrus' attack circled it nervously a few times, then searched around before finding a sizable stick to toss at it. But Sans' attack wasn't interested in fetch, only huffing a sigh as the stick clattered down in front of it. Papyrus' attack wouldn't be dissuaded so quickly--yipping, it bounced and danced comically, trying to catch the other blaster's attention and take its mind off its troubles.

But Sans' attack could only give it a sad look before closing its eyes. This was the end...

Papyrus' wouldn't stand for this! It nudged and bumped against its companion, to no avail. There had to be something it could do... Perhaps...

A hum rose, and Sans' attack snapped its eyes open. It sprung up, darting out of the way as a beam of light seared into the ground it had just been laying on. It gave a questioning look to Papyrus' as it huffed lingering steam from its jaws, and only got an annoyed rumble in reply. It stepped forward, and extended a talon to press it to the ground. The meaning was clear: hold still.

Papryus' blaster braced itself, and light gathered in its jaws again.

Sans' attack wasn't entirely sure blasting the debris was a good solution.

It rolled again, scrambling up to run. Every step sent a pang down the blaster's spine, but it was even less willing to find out what getting blasted felt like. Papyrus' attack coughed with surprise, its beam fizzling out as its concentration broke--but it quickly gave chase, determined to help.

Sans' blaster was good at moving quickly in short bursts. Papyrus' attack was far better at running long distances over open ground. And so, having laid in the middle of a large, open yard, Sans' attack soon found whatever lead it had vanished. Papyrus' attack had caught up and was galloping alongside it. Sans' attack managed to dodge a swipe meant to knock it over, but Papyrus' flapped, using the force to propel itself forward and tackle its target. They tumbled together with a yelp, only for Sans' attack to break free once more and lunge for the trees. Maybe it could hide and wallow in misery there.

But Papyrus' attack wasn't giving up and dove into the underbrush after it, even as it had to duck and weave through increasingly thick forest. Focused on the pursuit, it misjudged a leap and tripped over a fallen log--but, undaunted, it shook the debris off and vaulted skyward. Sans' looked back, and saw it was no longer being chased--

Only for the trees above it to explode as Papyrus' struck from above. It tumbled with a surprised yelp, only just managing to wriggle free and dart out of the other blaster's reach. Scrambling, it surged forward, breathing in ragged gasps. It couldn't run forever--it had to find a place to hide.

But the forest had other ideas. As the blaster ran, the ground fell away into a deep ravine, and it yelped as its footing vanished. It sailed, plunging down--and stopped with a thud. The blaster blinked. It hadn't hit the ground, which still lay in front of it. Its back spines had wedged into the close-growing fork of a tree, and it hung, suspended some ten feet high.

This was weird. It wasn't equipped to handle a situation like this.

The whipping of giant wings sounded overhead, and the canopy cracked again as Papyrus' blaster descended through it. It touched down, shook and folded its wings--then yelped when it noticed its companion's predicament. It circled, trying to understand the situation; apparently coming to a solution, it finally reared up and placed its forelimbs higher on the tree's main branches, pushing them apart. Sans' blaster tumbled free, landing unceremoniously with a giant thud. It twitched, then groaned, and made no further effort to move. Completely exhausted, it was done.

Papyrus' blaster tilted its head from side to side, then grasped the other by the nape and began the lengthy process of dragging it back home. When they finally broke from the trees, Papyrus was in the backyard looking for them. His blaster dropped Sans' and called, and he broke into a run to see what had happened.

"What in the name of bones have you two gotten into?!" he scolded as he reached them, and the blaster whined. It pawed at Sans', who still lay on the ground, half-dazed and tangled in a variety of plant debris. Papyrus shook his head. "And what's the matter with you? Too lazy to walk? Geez, you really are like Sans."

Sans' attack whined--but it was a small, sad sound unlike Papyrus had ever heard it utter before. He frowned, and looked up when his own blaster nudged him, worry in its eyes. It left his side to begin picking off some of the debris, then seemed to remember something and begin fussing and pulling at one particular spot on the other's spine. Papyrus felt his own back twinge in sympathy, and hurried closer. He shooed his blaster away and knelt to get a better look--and discovered the problem.

"That looks extraordinarily unpleasant, my big, bony companion! How did you manage that?"

It uttered a miserable groan.

"Well, no matter! Your ever-reliable and dexterous friend Papyrus is on the case!"

He tugged at the chunk of wood, but it was well and truly stuck, jammed in deep and caked with dirt and grass. He drew back to consider his options, tapping his chin with a finger--but after only a moment more of consideration, he summoned a pair of tiny bones on either end of the chunk and smashed them inward. The wood finally splintered and fell free, and the blaster visibly relaxed, sinking into the ground with a relieved sigh. Papyrus patted it and stood, pleased with himself.

"There you go! Perhaps I should go into chiropractory for dragons! My intimate knowledge of bones and personal, hands-on experience will surely be useful. It's foolproof!"

Sans' blaster rolled onto its belly stiffly, then got up just enough to push its skull into Papyrus' chest gratefully. He returned the gesture by hugging it, and brushed off some of the junk that still clung to its crests. Having given its thanks, the worn-out blaster flopped back down. Papyrus slipped out of the way, narrowly avoiding getting his feet trapped under the blaster's jaw.

"Oh, come now! You look like you need a full spa day--both of you! I don't think I can get limes big enough to cover your eyes... which is fine, because I guess it's not limes anyway. I wonder if they make giant cucumber slices... Well, I'll just use a lot of them! Nyeh heh! Let's go to the house so we can get started!"

His blaster picked Sans' up again, and Papyrus hurried off to gather his supplies. Finally free of the object that had tormented it, Sans' blaster merely went along with the activities. It dozed off as Papyrus scrubbed and soaked the grime it had collected away, and the sun warmed and dried its weary bones. Despite everything...

It was still a beautiful day.

#undertalethingem writes #unexpected guests extras #gaster blasters #papyrus (undertale)#finally posting this =u=; it's been done for a while but today's a good day for it #not sure what genre it is--fluff? hurt/comfort? both maybe????#idk you tell me if i need to tag anything either way =u=;;

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pride-moth · 3 years ago

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Here Comes The Rain Again - Stolitz Week Day 1 (Rain)

Ao3 Link

Even Info Link

Stolas doesn’t like hell’s rain. It’s sulfur and acid and blood and it burns the skin like fire. It doesn’t hurt him, not really, he’s from here after all. His body is anything but sensitive to hell’s tortures. But it’s still deeply unpleasant, so he usually tries to avoid it.

Unfortunately, you can’t always avoid bad things. Especially not if your dearly-hated wife decides to have a lavish birthday party in the palace garden, the elements be damned. So, he’s standing in the pouring hell rain, his body uneasily prickling from the droplets. And there’s no escape from it all either because even though he and Stella haven’t spoken a word to each other in months that wasn’t a scream or a death threat, he’s still expected to come to these things. “Good optics” they call it. He calls it socially acceptable torture. Required torture even.

Via is having a good time at least, mingling with the servers more than the other royals, but at least she’s mingling at all, and smiling and laughing. It makes his heart sing, seeing her laugh despite it all. Despite the constant fighting in the house, the constant shouting, the constant arguments about who she’ll live with if push comes to shove. It makes everything a little less difficult, a little less painful, a little less horrible.

Nobody but him seems to mind the rain. They dance and eat and drink like it isn’t even there. They don’t even have to be outside here, but Stella insisted and she always gets what she wants, doesn’t she?

Well, she gets everything she wants except for him, Stolas supposes. He still remembers her standing in front of him as a teenager with wide eyes and a timid smile, more beautiful than any woman he had ever seen in real life or in a magazine, but he had already been secure in the knowledge that no matter how beautiful she was, he didn’t want a woman at all. He still hurts for her in that way, even if the feeling fades with every piece of china she throws at him.

He sighs, it’s no use. He turns on his heel and goes inside, the acid rain dripping from his clothes.

“You look like you need a break.”

Stolas snaps his head around towards the voice next to him in the hallway. “What are you doing here, Blitzy?” he asks, startled but undeniably happy to see him.

“It’s the full moon? I’m here to bring you the book? And do kinky shit to take it back home with me?” Blitz says and waves Stolas’ grimoire around and pauses for a moment. “Did you actually forget?”

“No, no, I just… There’s a party happening outside as you’ve probably noticed.”

“Yeah in that piss weather, I was wondering what kind of weird cult shit is going on there.”

“Oh, nothing of the sort, just… royal things, I suppose.”

“Same difference.”

Stolas sighs. “I’m simply not a big fan of rain, I suppose.”

Blitz’ face lights up with a gleeful grin. “I know exactly what you need to see!”

Stolas wants to ask what he’s talking about but before he can open his mouth, Blitz has started drawing circles on the ground and opened a portal to the living world.

“Let’s go!” Blitz exclaims and holds his hand out towards Stolas.

Stolas takes it and feels the little burst of excitement flow through his body that has long become the familiar feeling every time he touches Blitz. It’s pleasant, he can’t pretend it isn’t. If he ever tried to in the first place. It’s warm and kind and good and he wants to savor the sensation uncritically whenever he can.

They step through the portal together and end up in a dark forest, the wind howling around them in, whirling up leaves and dirt and making the bird chirp excitedly. It’s warm, though, like a summer day coming to an end. Stolas hugs himself and looks at Blitz in mild distress. “Where are we?!”

Blitz laughs. “Oh Canada or something, I wouldn’t know, I was just aiming for ‘forest where it’s going to rain soon.”

“Why?! I just told you I don’t like the rain!”

“Well, you haven’t seen earth rain yet!”

“How is that different?!”

“You’ll see, just calm down and enjoy yourself!”

Blitz hesitates for a moment, but then he reaches out to Stolas again, grabbing his hand and massaging it slightly. Stolas can’t help but smile.

And then it begins. One drop at first, then more and more until it is pouring down on them. The wind throws the rain in every direction until they’re drenched from head to toe.

But it’s different than in hell. It’s warm and soft and it feels cleansing like the gentle embrace of a loved one. The unpleasant sting of the hell rain is washed away with every drop of soft earthly rain which wraps itself gently around Stolas like a warm blanket.

He feels elated just from standing there, Blitz holding his hand, looking into the unending darkness of the forest. He turns around without thinking, leans down without thinking and he kisses Blitz hungrily and passionately and with all the tenderness he can muster.

Blitz freezes for a moment before reciprocating, placing a firm hand in Stolas’ neck, pulling him closer.

And so they just stand there, soaking wet somewhere in the middle of nowhere on earth, kissing like it’s the only thing that matters. Kissing like they’re the only two people in the entire universe. Like a kiss of this caliber won’t make it impossible to pretend to dislike each other the next day. Like a kiss of this caliber won’t make it impossible to pretend they aren’t painfully, soul-crushingly in love with each other.

#stolas x blitzo #stolas x blitz #stolitz #stolitz week #fanfic #mywriting #Helluva Boss

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kindahoping4forever · 4 years ago

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Watch Me Bloom: A Few Months Ago // Ashton Irwin

I’m so excited to finally share this with everyone! As I mentioned, the week leading up to Superbloom really inspired me. It was so hard to believe that just seven months prior, we were living the ups and downs of CALM’s release while this was a essentially a never ending parade of self-reflection and joy. My fic Release explored a relationship dealing with CALM and I thought it’d be fun to see what the Superbloom experience might look like thru the lens of a relationship. (I wouldn’t say it’s a sequel - in my mind, they’re different relationships- but you could call it a thematic companion.)

As always (but honestly even more so this time because omg this section especially changed again and again), my eternal love and gratitude to @cal-puddies for always offering direction, notes, encouragement and a good roast when I need it.

Warnings: What a surprise, it’s Boyfriend!Ash. Brief quarantine mention. So much fluffy smut you’ll wonder if I’m alright. Oral sex performed on a female. Unprotected sex within an established relationship. This is the tame chapter, folks. The calm before the smutty storm, if you will.

Word Count: 3319

Watch Me Bloom Masterlist

Masterlist // Taglist // Ko-Fi

Let me know what you think!

You sleepily roll over to snuggle your boyfriend but instead of being surrounded by the warm firmness of Ashton’s back, you feel cool air and the beginnings of a falling sensation. Your body jolts awake to catch itself, your brain making the unpleasant discovery that there’s no one laying next to you and you’re about to tumble off the couch. You shake your head upon realizing you once again fell asleep in the living room, watching TV.

It was a bad habit you fell into once Ashton got busy with his new project. You still hadn’t gotten used to falling asleep without him and a part of you can’t help but long for the early days of quarantine, when you spent the majority of your time lazily wrapped up in sheets and each other.

But as time went on, you started waking up alone and finding him sitting outside with a coffee, scribbling away on a notepad. Other days you’d wake up to the sounds of him already in the shower, singing gibberish words to fill out gorgeous melodies he dreamt of and is trying to perfect while he gets ready to take on the day.

He eventually showed those scribbles and shower songs to his housemate, Matt, who helped him shape them into demos, which they then decided to make into fully produced tracks. After weeks of rearranged furniture, strewn about instruments and dodging cables running through the hall, Ash gleefully shared that he planned to release these songs as his own album. You’d kissed him happily, shared in his joy and teased him relentlessly that it took him this long to tell you. You couldn’t have been happier for him and you loved seeing him excited about work again, especially after the frustration surrounding the band's album release earlier this year, but every night when you go to bed alone, you just miss him.

You shuffle into the kitchen and dump the rest of your long forgotten tea in the sink, turning on the tap to wash the cup. While you wait for the water to warm up, you cartoonishly stretch your arms over your head and loudly yawn.

“Long day?” A voice asks from across the room.

You chuckle and turn to greet Matt, who’s headed towards the sink with an armful of various mugs he and Ashton must’ve used for tea, coffee and water over the course of the day.

“Well, I got up earlier than usual and Ash had already made his side of the bed, so I’m sure it was nowhere near as long as yours,” you comment, reaching out to take the dishes from him.

He silently thanks you with a kind smile. “Yeah he was up and at it even before me today,” he admits, shaking his head. “Had quite the breakthrough today, though. I’m sure he’d love to tell you about it if you wanna pay him a visit.”

You lightheartedly scoff as you quickly wash the cups. “And also he’s just moved from your studio down to his and you think I can talk him into actually getting some rest?”

He laughs at how well you know your boyfriend. “I told him I was gonna call it a night but I don’t think he’s taking the hint,” he admits.

“Sounds like our guy,” you shrug, setting the clean mugs on the rack to dry. “I’ll pop by and check on him before I turn in.”

You head for the bathroom and quickly go through your routine; you mentally cheer when you turn on the light and see Ash’s green henley draped haphazardly over the bathtub. It smells like him so he must have just tossed it aside when he showered earlier; you inhale deeply as you slip it over your head and throw on a pair of sleep shorts before heading down to the basement where he’s working.

You tentatively make your way down the stairs, not wanting to startle him. As you suspected, he’s intently focused on his computer screen, dragging and dropping components of a track, trying to layer the elements just the way he wants, something he was recently so proud to tell you he had learned to do.

You knock quietly on the wall when you reach the bottom. He turns around to investigate and exclaims your name with far too much enthusiasm for the late hour. He opens his arms, which you know means he wants you to come sit on his lap. He greets you with a sweet kiss as soon as you sit down and hums when he recognizes the scent of your nighttime skin products. “Bedtime already?” He asks, sounding slightly disappointed.

You jab his side playfully. “Already? It’s pretty fucking late, dude,” you tease. “I fell asleep on the couch again.”

“Aww, baby, no,” he commiserates, stroking your arm empathetically. "You weren’t waiting up for me again, were you?”

“Maybe subconsciously,” you shrug. “Missed you a lot today. Dreamt about you last night. Dreamt about you while I was asleep right now. I dunno, it’s weird.” He hugs you tighter to him and you rest your head in the crook of his neck. “Matt said you had a good day, though?” You say in a bright voice, trying to compensate for your sad admission.

Ashton softly smiles and squeezes your leg, indicating he knows you wish you hadn’t told him what you did. “Yeah, it was crazy, I woke up with this song in my head and I had to rush down here before it went away,” he explains. “It was so clear in my mind - every instrument, every aspect of the production - and it took all day but we’ve almost got it exactly how I imagined it.”

You rest against him while he clicks around on the computer, playing you different files and explaining each step they took in their process that day. You watch him, instead of the screen, admiring the way he lights up when he talks about his art, the way his dimples just keep sinking deeper and deeper as he delights in telling you the inventive tactic they came up with to get the guitars to sound a certain way.

You peck at his cheek, enjoying the scratch from his light beard. “I’m so glad you had a good day,” you coo. “Think you might want to head up to bed with me now, though? I love seeing how happy this makes you but you’ve still gotta take care of yourself, babe. Still working when I go to bed and getting back at it before I wake up? It’s happening a lot and I get worried sometimes.”

He plays with the hem of your - his - shirt while he listens to your concern. “I know. It’s just easy to get caught up when it’s going good. And it’s all been going so good!” His wide smile turns to an understanding nod when he sees you lovingly shake your head at his excited excuse. “But I know you’re right, baby, I promise I have been trying to be mindful. Today was just the perfect storm.”

“OK,” you murmur, believing him for now, knowing you’ll surely be having this conversation again in a few days’ time. He tilts your chin up to him and moves in for a soft kiss. You sigh as his lips gently move over yours and you reach up to run your fingers through his hair; because of the lockdown, he’d been letting it grow and you were loving it. You’d convinced him to let you trim it a few times to keep it healthy and now you were obsessed with getting your hands on it all the time.

He starts to pull away but you let out a slight whine and bring him back in, deepening the kiss while you’re at it. He lets you lead the makeout as he wraps his arms around you, holding your body against his. You shift yourself in his lap so that you’re straddling him in the chair.

“Is this your plan to tire me out so I’ll come to bed?” Ash grins.

"Thought this was your plan," you tease, tugging his lip between your teeth. "You asked me to sit in your lap, I know your style."

He giggles as you start nipping at his jawline before making your way down his neck and settling in to kiss up and down his collarbones. He sits back and lets you work, running his hands up and down the back of your top, occasionally letting his hands wander down to appreciate how tight your sleep shorts fit over your ass.

“You’re markin’ me up, baby,” he laughs, attempting to detach your mouth from his chest.

You allow him to bring your mouth back up to his, darting your tongue across his bottom lip before saying with a smirk, “Something to help you remember me while you’re locked away working.”

Before he can respond, you move in to kiss him again and as you feel him growing hard underneath you, you lazily begin grinding on him. He groans and moves against you a few times before running a hand up the leg of your shorts.

He raises his eyebrows when he feels how wet you already are for him. “Aww, you really have been missin’ me, huh?” He teases, eyes shining in the dimly lit room. “You know you can always just tell me when you need me, that’s part of the fun of working at home.”

“Don’t wanna interrupt the artistic genius process,” you tease back, sitting further back on his thighs so you can palm him through his shorts. “Plus, I don’t think Matt would appreciate that very much.”

“I’d love it if we didn’t talk about Matt while your hand is on my dick,” he jokes, lifting his hand out of your shorts and up to his lips to lick. You roll your hips impatiently as you watch his lips suck your essence off his fingertips. “Mmm, sweet tonight, baby,” he murmurs. “Think I’m gonna need more.”

Ashton grips the backs of your thighs and suddenly he’s standing to lift you off of his lap and onto the desk in front of him. He deftly uses one hand to move his laptop and various hard drives to the side and uses the other to start tugging your shorts and panties down.

He drops to his knees and the surprise of that sight gets a low moan out of you. When he licks a stripe up your center, you take on a much whinier tone. “Babyyyy,” you try to reason with him, tugging on the collar of his white t-shirt. “I don’t wanna keep you awake any later than you need to be, let’s just fuck and get some sleep.”

He sits back on his heels, peeling off his shirt, flinging it behind him. “Heard my girl was missing me,” he counters, dragging a finger slowly through your wetness. “Gotta make sure you can make it through the day tomorrow.” His thumb plays gently at your clit while he runs his beard along your inner thigh - he’s learned you love the scratch - before fixing his mouth on your skin, clearly intent on leaving a large hickey.

You shiver when without much fanfare, Ash starts softly licking at your clit with just the tip of his tongue. “That’s my needy girl,” he says in a low voice that gives you almost as much of a chill as his mouth just did. Your brain constructs a witty reply but you’re not entirely sure the mumble that came out of your mouth made sense; his tongue is fluttering against your clit now and his hands are forcefully spreading your legs wider while somehow also tenderly massaging your skin.

You pry your hands off the edge of the desk where you’ve been bracing yourself and wrap them in his hair while his mouth works you, loving how his eyes dart up to thank you every time you brush a wayward curl off his forehead. It’s a great juxtaposition to the warning look you get when you start bucking your hips against his face. You didn’t mean to start getting rowdy but he slipped his fingers inside you at just the right angle and at the same time his beard dragged across your skin and his lips finally enveloped your clit - you couldn’t help yourself.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he soothes, sliding his hand underneath your shirt and laying his palm flat across your stomach to settle your movements. “Need it that bad? Could’ve sworn I had you the other night, you’re acting like I haven’t touched you in weeks.” His tone is the perfect blend of condescension and care and his words tease you almost as intensely as his fingers curling inside you.

Your reply is interrupted with a surprised moan when he fits his lips over your clit once again and starts sucking rapidly. “Maybe… having you… just makes… Jesus… makes me want you… mmm-more… fuck, babe, I’m cumming.”

You’re shocked by how fast and strong your orgasm hits you - maybe Ashton’s teasing wasn’t too far off and you are just that needy. You lay back on the desk, tugging at his hair, biting your lip to keep from crying out too loudly; try as you might, you can’t ignore the urge to grind against his mouth and the vibration from his groaning only adds to your pleasure.

He keeps at it until you push him away and you whine when he withdraws his fingers from you; you’ve just barely caught your breath when you squeeze his arm to get his attention, craving him near. He, of course, knows what you need and stands to tend to you. He brushes his fingers across your lips before cleaning the rest of your wetness off of them with his own mouth.

You’re pretty sure you see his cock jump in his basketball shorts as your tongue peeks out of your mouth to sample what he’s shared with you. “Taste good, baby?” He asks with heavy breath.

“Tastes better when I’m mixed with you,” you counter, pulling him in.

He moans into your passionate kiss, one hand trying to lean you back on the desk and the other yanking his shorts down. You resist his attempt, catching him off guard by pushing on his shoulders, guiding him back to his abandoned office chair; you climb in his lap to straddle him again, explaining, “Been wanting you like this all day.”

You take his cock in your hand and give it a few strokes before lifting yourself up and tapping your clit with the tip; you play like this for a minute, using him to tease yourself, rubbing your pussy on him, coating him in your wetness until he grabs your hips and sighs your name in a soft plea.

Smiling to yourself, you think maybe you should rib him about being as needy as you, except you don’t want to wait any longer to get him inside you; he watches intently as you balance yourself on the arms of the chair to line up and sink down on him. You groan together in lustful harmony at the feeling and you begin tentatively rocking your hips, enjoying the familiar stretch of him filling you.

You’ve got a moderate rhythm going when Ash starts playing with your nipples through your shirt; you slow your pace a bit and reach to pull the henley off when he stops you. “Leave it on,” he requests with a glint in his eye, fingers swiftly undoing a few buttons to expose more of your chest. “Now whenever I wear it, I won’t be able to stop picturing you riding me.”

You grin at him and lean back on his thighs, grinding slowly on his cock, trying to find that perfect angle. His hands are all over you, under and over the shirt, running over the tops and inside of your thighs; his grip eventually settles on your ass, kneading it and helping you bounce yourself on him.

You ride him at varying speeds, paying attention to the sounds he’s making and the way his body responds to your movements; you can’t get enough of seeing his jaw clench as he struggles not to fuck up into you, trying to let you have your moment.

He squeezes your ass so hard you know there’s bound to be finger shaped bruises in the morning. “Fuck, Ash,” you whisper, mouth against his ear. Your tongue flicks out to toy with his earring and the gasp you get in response is as satisfying as you’d hoped.

“Gettin’ close,” he strains, lifting his hips against yours slowly, thinking if he’s subtle enough maybe you won’t mind.

“God… same,” you tell him, speeding up and bringing a hand between your legs. “Wanna cum with you, babe.”

Ashton takes that as permission to be more blatant with his thrusting and as your breath starts stuttering, he even throws in a few slaps across your ass cheeks; his instincts are correct and within seconds you’re pulsing around him. Your eyes squeeze shut and flashes of white are all you see; you can tell by the tone of his voice he’s praising you as you orgasm but you can’t process what he’s saying.

His arms wrap around you and he holds you close as you squeeze his cock. You rock against him, working yourself through it when he buries his face in your chest to muffle an exhausted grunt as he cums inside you. You stroke his hair, murmuring how good he feels; he catches his breath and his embrace tightens around you as he pulls you into a soft yet sloppy kiss.

“Love you,” he says quietly, resting his head between your breasts again, beard prickling your skin.

You play with the thin chain he’s wearing, admiring the way the silver contrasts with the dark ink on the back of his neck. You’ve seen this side of Ash more in the past few months than you had the entire time you’d been together and it still takes you aback every time it comes out. “Love you too,” you whisper in reply.

He helps you off of him and you excuse yourself to the adjoining bathroom. When you return a few minutes later, he’s redressed, the desk is back in order and all his equipment is shut off.

“Bedtime?” You ask, pleasantly surprised.

He grins. “Like I’d be able to think about anything else tonight,” he reaches for your hand. There’s a comfortable silence as he starts to lead you out of the room before pausing at the foot of the stairs and turning to you. “You know I miss you too, right? When I’m working all the time like this? I think about you a lot.”

You lift your joined hands, kissing his knuckles. “I know, babe, I’m sorry if I made you feel bad when I said all that, I was just tired,” you frown slightly.

Ash slings his arm around you, kissing the top of your head. “Can I tell you a secret? This shirt was actually clean, I sprayed it with cologne and left it out for you,” he laughs, tugging at your collar. “Wanted to wear tomorrow and spend the day having you close to me.”

“Ashhhh, that’s so sweet it’s almost gross,” you aww. He chuckles as you hop onto the step in front of him and peck rapidly at his lips. “Bold of you to assume I’d let you have it back, though.”

He snorts and follows you up the stairs. You turn to him at the top. “Make you a deal: if you’re still in bed with me when I wake up tomorrow, the shirt’s yours.”

He spins you around and gives you a gentle swat, directing you to the bedroom. “Deal.”

————-

@mymindwide @suchalonelysunflower @pxrxmoore @loveroflrh @ghostofmashton @sexgodashton @spookydaddycal

@castaway-cashton @ashtonlftv @cashtonasfuck @megz1985 @ashdork-irwin @angelicfluffs @findingliam-o @abadaftertaste @youngbloodchild @irwinsbetch @ashsun @everyscarisahealingplace

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@mfartzzz @babyoria @saphseoul @petunias-pet @youngblood199456 @notinthesameguey @seanna313 @calumftduke @zhangyixingxing1 @stardust-galaxies @zackoid

@queenalienscherrypie @lovelybonesetc @Obey-Kaylin @xsongxbirdx @justhereforcalum

@laura66sos @calumrose @karajaynetoday @pilunb @jazzyangel242 @babylon-corgis @heyheyhaleyd @calmsweetcreature

@spicycal @talkfastromance4 @holystxne @myloverboyash

@meetmedowntown @ashtonangst

@irwindoll @cheekysos @carrielfisher @lukedorkyhemmings @creampiecashton @lovelywordsblog

@trix-arent-for-kids @uh-huhh-honey @tobefalling @aladyofalbion

@likehuhdude @curlycalums @cxddlyash @reddesert-healourblues

#5sos smut #5 seconds of summer smut #ashton irwin smut #ashton smut #ashton irwin fic #Kindahoping4forever #smut #kh4f fic #Watch Me Bloom #WMB: A Few Months Ago #For real I cannot tell you how much help Cass was - I rewrote this from scratch at least twice #Please let me know what you think #Feedback is appreciated #and apologies for it being so long in between fics - ya gettin 3 this week (and i have at least one more ready to go at some point) so #you'll be sick of me soon enough 😂#Part 2 on Wednesday!

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shotosprincess · 4 years ago

Text

Altruistic. — oikawa tooru ♡︎

ALTRUISTIC: showing a disinterested and selfless concern for the well-being of others; unselfish.

⤷ pairing: oikawa tooru ♥︎ fem! reader

⤷ summary: you accidentally get hit by the ball during one of oikawa,, your childhood best friend’s ,, practice games ,, and he immediately leaves to take care of you 🥺🤌

⤷ genre(s): super short one shot w lots of fluff ,, fluff ,, FLUFF!!

⤷ length: 1.7k

⤷ a/n: PLS i stayed up till 6am last night writing this purely bc i absolutely could not sleep without writing a soft moment w oikawa into existence (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃

“ Oi! Oikawa! Pass it here! “ The holler echoed through the gym, roaring solidly over the squeak of worn out sneakers twisting against glossy floors.

“ Iwa-chan! “ Oikawa’s smile scintillates with an undeniable anticipation as he pushes against the ball, hands flicking outwards as his toss to the teammate in question proved to be, in fact, successful. He spikes it down, the tremendous force exerted from both parties sending the dull sphere of ivory driving into the ground, leaving their opponents in the blatant, dirty dust.

It smacks right in front of their libero, who was far too stunned to even do so much as react in time. The shrill of a whistle ripples through the air. Seijoh’s side cheers, little praises and compliments slipping out from one teammate to another as back pats and playful head slaps were shared within their brief moment of celebration. The boys prepare themselves for another point to be won, bending their knees in a ‘ ready ‘ stance. Your heart melted. Oikawa’s earthy eyes glinted with a familiar sense of hunger, of true passion. You loved seeing him like this; buzzing and thrumming with such a raw, precise determination. You adored it.

Your hand reaches into the shallow depths of your sweater’s pocket, findling with its contents before finally pulling out your phone to check the time. The serve is hit, and just as your finger sides across the side of the case to actually turn your phone on—

A blinding pain stuns you, striking sharply at the side of your head. You see white, passing out due to the sudden unpleasant sensation. Your body falls limp, lolling to the side of your chair upon impact.

Oikawa’s head snaps in your direction, and his heart stops. He waves a hand dismissively, aggressively, in fact, through the air, signalling some sort of time out for obvious reasons. His stare burned right through the spiker responsible for your unprecedented injury. A dark aura seemed to even envelope him as he did. And in a low, threatening tone:

“ You’ll pay for this. “

Rushedly sprinting to your side, he kneels beside you, cupping your neck with one hand for support and wrapping his other arm beneath your legs. He lifts you up gently, gaze frantically darting from side to side, only to realize that no paramedics of any sort were currently present. A scoff leaves him, sending one last protective glare towards the hazel-haired player.

“ Continue the game without me. I’m taking her home. “

There is a prolonged beat of silence until he leaves, and the gym slowly begins to erupt with laughter and boisterous comments once again. He carefully places you in his car, tucking your bag of belongings in the empty space beneath your feet. The jangling key turns and clicks, the engine booms to life.

And he’s off.

“ Are you...Are you ok? “

Your eyes flutter open, lids still heavy, to the blurred sight of a very pretty boy with a very pretty smile. Chestnut swoops of hair frame his face in a fluffy frame. There is a certain kindness in his eyes. That’s when everything comes rushing back to you, and you realize the pretty boy before you is none other than the man who has put up with you ever since the first grade, Oikawa Tooru. And judging by your surroundings, you were in...his room?

“ O-Oikawa? “

“ Hey, you’re awake. Just in time too. I need to clean your wound. “

The skin near his eyes creases ever so slightly as his lips form one of the warmest smiles you had ever seen. He seemed...relieved. By an almost-unnatural amount.

His fingers move to tuck a straying tendril of hair behind your ears, letting the back of his hand delicately brush against the side of your face.

“ What...what happened exactly? “

Your memory is hazy, all you remembered was a sudden searing sting, which only evolved into a copiously throbbing ache. And then nothing.

“ Yahaba was being an idiot and accidentally hit you in the head with his serve. “

He pushes the heel of his palm against his head, groaning into it in annoyance and frustration. You say nothing, simply making a little “ oh “ face. His eyes close, a deep inhale clearing his thoughts.

For some reason, your eyes were immediately drawn to the abundant rise of his chest. You did not know why.

He puts his hand down, flashing you a half smile.

“ Well. It can’t be helped. You were passed out on the ride back. You’re in my house right now, but don’t worry. I’ll take care of you, ok? No flying objects can hurt you here. “

The lighthearted laugh which follows is accompanied by an odd longing to keep looking into his eyes. He pulls out a small medical kit from the drawer behind him, presenting a ball of slightly frayed cotton. It clumps together as he saturates it with the contents of an alcohol agent, the blue liquid quickly bleeding into the white.

You instinctively wince as his tweezers take the ball between its thin metal prongs, gently pressing it against your head. A harsh sting pricks through your skin. Your eyes tightly squeeze shut, and your head drops down to hide your face, embarrassed. The pressure immediately ceases.

“ Sorry. I forgot to warn you when I was going to put it. “

“ No, no that’s alright! It just...took me by surprise, that’s all. “

You will yourself to muster up a reassuring smile, though the subtle quivering at the ends of your lips didn’t exactly make it very convincing.

Despite noticing this, his lips pursed together in an emphasized tightness and he nods, continuing the process. But this time around he’s more gentle with his movements, soft and cautious, so as to make it as painless as possible. His brows furrowed together in deep concentration, one almost comparable to the kind which he lost himself so many times in, whilst analyzing videos of volleyball games with that unmatched meticulous which you had always admired so.

Oikawa Tooru had rarely ever been one to be gentle, tender. Yet alas here he was, being as gentle with you as was humanly possible for him. It was confusing and addicting all the same. And if you thought about it enough, one could probably say that it was nothing short of a miracle, that very miracle being the cheesy, yet insatiable concept of love.

Once he finally lifts the cotton from your face, he disposes of the remains, chucking them casually into a nearby dustbin as it teeters back and forth a little with the force. He then takes out a small bandage, unfolding it with care. The precision he had acquired through volleyball was blatantly evident as he carefully spreads the sticky fabric atop your wound, effectively patching it up. A cool, almost healing, feeling hits said wound, and you couldn’t quite tell if it was purely because of the bandaid, or if it was because of the hands which placed it. His hands. Swept up completely in the dazed state he had you in, you decided on the latter.

Those same hands, which were whirling through the dreaminess of your thoughts, then cupped your face, turning your gaze towards him. A comforting, rather than cauterizing, warmth floods to your cheeks, flushing them with a vivid rose as your heart flutters vigorously with the sparks of a forming hearth. His eyes, brown as chestnuts stored away in hollowed trees, bore deeply into yours, with a sentiment you had never known. Without another thought, his lips silently press against your forehead. The top of his head rests against yours, careful not to touch the wound, neither one willing to let go of this moment.

Admittedly, you hadn’t ever quite expected Oikawa to be someone capable of such sentiment, nor had you ever thought that he would be the type of person to give up his game, and especially not for you. Sure, you were close, best friends even. But you knew better than anyone just how much he put into volleyball. He loved that game more than anything and anyone. That included you. Or at least that was what you had thought before now. It was almost shameful for you, in a way. You had always attached such a perception onto him, and sometimes it even made you envy him and his love for the sport.

Sometimes...sometimes you wished he loved you even half as much as he did volleyball.

But now...you didn’t know what changed, if something even had. Either way, you were seeing this completely different side to him which you had never even thought existed until now—a caring, altruistic Oikawa. Not the “ great king “, nor Seijoh’s number one. Just Oikawa. And though he most definitely was both of those things, he was also, apparently, selfless. Or at least as selfless as Oikawa could get. You knew how much gravity his games hold to him, so the fact that he gave it all up today just to take care of you...it truly was a shock.

His skin against yours was a salve within itself, yet it was the intrinsic tenderness in which he held you that really struck you as odd. Well, not necessarily odd, per say, but rather, different. And not in a bad way either. The absolute and utter timidness of the very gesture held something so...intimate between the two of you. It fanned the embers awakening in your heart, urging the orange specks to roar with breath. You’d only ever seen his rough, callous-littered hands hit roughly against the volleyball. It was always hit, hit, hit. When you were just little kids in elementary, you vividly remember walking by his nearby house everyday as you came home from school, only to hear the thumping of volleyballs against a wall as he practiced tirelessly to fulfill the dreams which he yearned so longingly for. Sometimes it would even stretch out into the late hours of the night. It astonished you, how one could commit so fervently to a sport.

And now here those same hands were, encasing your face within the unanticipated serenity of their touch, holding you with a rare tenderness. Tears of relief, of hope and of some other strong unknown feeling, gloss thickly over your eyes. He moves his thumb to wipe them away.

You liked this Oikawa. Sure, you loved the Oikawa who played rough and strategized with his team in such a laudable manner, but you also liked this side to him. The new, gentle side. This was an Oikawa you had never met before, and yet you already felt yourself falling in love, never to return.

And why would you?

#oikawa x reader #haikyuu fluff #oikawa x you #oikawa fic #oikawa scenarios #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa hcs #oikawa oneshot #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fic #oneshots #oikawa tooru #he’s so pretty

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victoria-daydreams · 4 years ago

Text

Of Vices and Virtues

Chapter Seven: Specialty

AN: I meant to post this earlier, but I had errands to run and then I got sidetracked after that. Anyways, enjoy the chapter.

Word Count: 4.6k

Trigger Warnings: none

Taglist: @azayamari

Chapter Eight: Fun & Games

"You are nothing but a freak!"

"You would be nothing without me!"

"No one wants you!"

I sat up abruptly in my bed, a gasp loudly escaping my mouth as my eyes shot open, sweat caking my hair to my forehead and my clothes to my body. I threw the covers off of me, stumbling out of the bed as I went into a little state of panic before I registered where I was. I was in my cozy bedroom in Charles' mansion, illuminated by the outside sun that shone through the large window.

"He can't hurt you anymore, remember," I whispered to myself.

I slid to the floor, wiping the stray tears off my cheeks and took a couple of deep breaths, my shoulders no longer shaking as violently. I drew my legs up to my chest, arms hugging my knees and face resting on top of my arms. A hiccup escaped me from the hysteria that had seized my body momentarily as I felt the world right itself. I was okay. I was safe.

Ever so slowly, I came back.

I unwrapped my arms from my legs and slowly pushed myself up from the wooden floor and went to my bathroom. Along with the cold sweat, the remnants of my nightmare seemed to cling to my skin like particles of dirt. The sensation of warm water on my skin would hopefully wash away the memories.

Before entering the shower I stared at my reflection, my hand slightly trembling as my fingers grazed over the discoloration around my eye I had received two nights prior. Shaking off my stupor, I quickly went into the shower, shedding my night clothes as if they were on fire. The water stung where it hit the small cuts on my back, but I ignored the pain, blissfully soaking up the warmth it offered the rest of my aching muscles. I scrubbed myself down with soaps and oils, I washed myself at least five times, trying to rid myself of the unpleasant sensation plaguing me.

Five minutes later, I wiped the steam off that fogged the mirror and I found myself looking at a completely different person. Her eyes were bright and she looked comfortable and clean and...Happy. Very happy. She was smiling. I liked when she smiled.

It was my best defense to mask that I was not slowly, painfully slowly, beginning to lose my mind.

~~~x~~~

"I think today is going to well," Charles beamed, after breakfast, everyone had left the kitchen and the two of us cleared the table while everyone changed into their training gear. Ever the gentleman, after collecting all the dishes, he ushered me into the kitchen. "Ladies first," he gestured with his free hand.

"Is that so?" I asked, grabbing the pitcher of syrup and tray of butter. "Thank you kind sir," I returned with a slight curtsy, and a flirtatious smile thrown over my shoulder, as I proceeded towards the fridge. "What's the lesson plan today, Professor?" I joked, sticking the syrup and butter back in the refrigerator.

"Ha ha ha, very funny," Charles drawled, placing the dishes down on the counter and turned the knob to the sink and water streamed out, he placed his hand underneath the water waiting for it to warm up. He squirted soap into the dish filled sink.

I reached out to the dishes on the counter, and with a telekinetic tug floated the dishes over to the sink. The moving dishes startled Charles a bit and I laughed as I walked over to him, rolling my sleeves up.

I scrubbed the first dish, "I'll wash, and you dry," I instructed, handed him the first cleaned dish and a towel. We made skin-to-skin contact, the touch was electric and both of us flinched involuntarily. Charles almost dropped the dish. He looked over at me, just as I turned my head to look at him as well. A smile pulled at his lips and I laughed softly, shaking my head before turning my attention back to the task at hand.

I continued to soap the dishes and Charles dried them in silence. Tension hung in the still air. The only sound came from the running tap. After the eighth dish, Charles finally broke the silence.

"You know, I could set up a course for your telekinesis. It looked like you were struggling there to lift the dishes," Charles gibed with a smile, as he dried off the last dish.

I blinked at him, "Charles, if you weren't such a great masseuse, I would break each and every one of your fingers to show how wrong you are," I leaned back on the counter with a grin. "You are so lucky you have magic hands," I commented, shaking my head.

"Is that all I am to you?" Charles countered with a smile, "Just a pair of magic, telepathic hands that make you putty over my treatment of your feet?"

"Yeah," I answered bluntly. "Face it, pretty boy, this is all you're good for," I shrugged, his blue eyes amused as I raised an eyebrow at the telepath.

"Oh Claudia, love, how you wound me," Charles grinned, placing his hands over his chest where his heart is.

"Would you like a kiss to make it better?" I asked, a smile making its way on my lips.

Charles had a smirk on his lips as well as he moved closer to me, "Is that an offer?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

I bit my lip and smiled as I sauntered up to him, "It could be a promise," I whispered into his ear. "The world may never know," I added, backing away from him with a grin on my face.

~~~x~~~

Closing my eyes, I leaned against the railing, breathing in the cool air. A gentle wind started up and I welcomed it, leaning my face into the soft breeze. It wasn't until I felt another warm body near mine that I turned my head with a raised an eyebrow at the mutant next to me.

"Something I can help you with?" I questioned, focusing my gaze to Erik.

"Is that your favorite line to say?" Erik asked back, and I just smiled, quirking an eyebrow that expressed the answer of 'maybe'. "I want to try something, help me warm up my powers you could say," he began.

"Shouldn't you be discussing this with Charles?" I quizzed, my smile falling slightly as my eyebrows came together, confusion in my eyes.

"Charles, wouldn't exactly agree with what I have in mind. But I think you would," Erik answered vaguely.

"Erik, why do I feel I'll be the guinea pig of this experiment?" I replied wearily a small smile on my face.

"For what I want to try I will need you to trust me," Erik stated, staring deeply into my eyes.

"Trust," I repeated, lazily stretching out my arms in front of me. "That's the foundation of a friendship," I stated, mirroring his eyes. "Are we friends Erik?" I questioned, all joking aside my gaze sincere and intense.

A soft grin appeared on Erik's face and his hand appeared before my abdomen, "Claudia Walker, I would be honored to call you my friend, if you'll have me," Erik affirmed, I mimicked his motion and firmly shook his hand. "Even if you can be a royal pain," he finished smiling at me, as he let go of my hand and I lightly punched his arm. "Come on, follow me," Erik motioned leading us down the balcony steps and towards the back lawns.

"Alright Erik, color me intrigued. What is so special about this training that you needed to give me a disclaimer?" I questioned, crossing my arms against my chest as we came to a stop. Erik reached into his pocket and slowly pulled out a sleek gun and my eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Are you insane?" I exclaimed, my eyes bouncing from the gun to Erik.

"You have nothing to fear, I promise," Erik assured, as the unmistakable click of the safety being turned off was deafening to my ears.

"Easy for you to say, you're not facing the barrel," I quipped, moving my hands to my hips.

He aimed the gun towards me his eyes boring into mine, "Do you trust me?"

I lifted one hand from my hip and pinched the brim of my nose, "This feels like one of those moments where I know I should go with my gut feeling and say 'no', but I have this strange feeling in my heart..." I trailed off, taking a deep breath closing my eyes before opening them again to face Erik. Staring determinedly at him, I repeated his words. "I trust you Erik," his lips quirked up into a smile momentarily, and he nodded his head.

The tension in the air was monumental, his finger slid to the trigger. I knew he could stop it, hell, I could stop it, yet my heart still raced and my hands trembled. BANG! The bullet soared through the air stopping right in front of my heart. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. We both looked towards each other laughter flowing freely from our lips.

"I have to say Erik you sure know how to treat a girl shooting at her with a gun after proclaiming we're friends! I can't imagine what your wedding day would be like with your wife!" I teased smirking.

"Very funny! Don't you forget I could have easily let that bullet hit you!" Erik reminded smiling.

"No, I don't think you'd do that, you see I think I'm growing on you," I challenged, mirroring his smile. "Which is why I want you to shoot me again," I requested, a plan formulating in my mind.

"What?"

"And don't stop the bullet,"

Erik looked at me doubtfully, "You're not serious?" he asked, I could hear the doubt in his voice that matched his expression.

I returned his gaze, a smile lifted the corners of my mouth, "What's wrong? Scared?" I asked smiling, because now the tables were slightly turned. "It's not like you didn't just shoot at me only a minute ago," I reminded smirking, placing my hands on my hips.

Erik regained his stance, "Okay, but you asked for it. Ready?"

I nodded and braced myself. This worked almost every time, hopefully it would not fail now, or I would be dead. That would be unfortunate. The gunshot cracked through the the silence and flew towards me and I heard Erik hold his breath in anticipation. Just before the bullet hit me, I stuck my hand, a violet barrier formed in front of me, and the bullet bounced off of it and onto to the ground

Erik smiled, "Well, I know now not to get any ideas," he noted cheekily.

I dropped my hand and placed it on my hip, "Honestly Erik, I would be offended if you didn't attempt to try at least another time," I quipped, as the barrier vanished into thin air.

Just then I heard quick, light footsteps pounding on the gravel approaching us, Charles emerged from around the corner of the mansion.

"What are you two doing?" Charles asked, gasping for breath.

I quickly glanced at Erik before returning my stare to Charles, "Trusting each other," I answered simply, with a shrug.

~~~x~~~

Five minutes later, the three of us had entered the mansion. Erik and Charles went to the library to play a match of chess and plan out new training's for the younger mutants and I found myself in the kitchen facing the back of Moira, she was doing dishes, obviously just having finished eating lunch herself. I hadn't eaten since my time spent with Erik, and I could feel my stomach rumbling painfully.

"Afternoon Moira," I greeted, stepping forward to a cupboard and grabbed a cup.

Moira greeted me in return with a smile, "You gave Charles and I quite the scare when we heard gunshots," she stated still smiling, as she dried her hands on the towel next to the sink.

"Oh, come now, I can't take all the credit. Erik was the one that actually fired the gun," I quipped returning her smile, as I poured myself a glass of water from the sink.

I set the glass down on the island and moved over to the fridge, opening the door I stared at the array of food available, still partly overwhelmed by the sheer amount of choices I had. Grinning, I grabbed a jar of mayo and slices of ham proceeded to make a sandwich. As I prepared my meal Moira turned her back to me, focusing on her dishes. Which gave me time to observe her and the burning question that had been in my mind since we arrived at the mansion.

"Why is Moira still here?" I thought. "After everything she has seen I expected her to turn on us the way most humans do when they're scared,"

I decided to voice the thoughts that had been floating through my mind, "Moira...why are you still here?" I asked curiously, screwing the lid back onto the mayo and Moira's body stilled at my question. "I mean after what you saw with Shaw and the Hellfire Club, not to mention the destruction of the CIA facility, why did you decide to trust us and still want to work with us?" I clarified, as Moira turned to face me.

Moira looked at me like the answer was obvious. "I was being realistic, I mean there's good and bad in all of us. Mutant, not mutant, Black, White, man, woman–it doesn't matter," she answered.

"If you were realistic you would have picked up and left. No one in their right mind would stay and help us," I said bluntly, though my intention was not to be rude. "Hell, if I were a normal human, I'd probably wouldn't if we're being honest," I confessed, before going back inside the fridge, placing the mayo down.

Moira leaned back against the sink, The reason I trust you, the reason I trust all of you is because you're you," she answered sincerely, and I didn't detect any dishonesty in her statement.

"You know what? I respect that," I stated, nodding my head. "Thank you for your honesty Moira," I smiled.

She returned a smile of her own, "No problem. I just hope the feeling is mutual," Moira had said it jokingly, but it sounded more like a question.

"Of course I respect you Moira," I addressed her, flashing a smile. "Just as long as you don't get the romantic idea of you being able to help us will somehow make you the savior of mutants," I explained, and arched a challenging eyebrow.

Moira shook her head side to side vehemently, "Oh no, never!" she concurred.

"Good," I answered, and flashed Moira another smile.

~~~x~~~

I was bored. So very bored. I could envision what the other occupants of the mansion would be doing right now. Alex was probably storming around the mansion aimlessly, taking his anger out on whatever objects happened to be within kicking distance. Raven was staring at herself in a mirror, Hank locking himself up in the lab, Sean running off to probably get stoned. I could see Charles curled up in a chair reading a novel with a cup of tea and Erik was probably in his room plotting multiple ways to kill Shaw. And who knows what Moira does, maybe she reads files in her spare time?

I watched from the window as the rain fell, clouds had rolled in and the sky darkened making the once bright, sunny day, dreary. Then came the rain, the sky had opened up about an hour of ago and showed no signs of stopping. The rain fell steadily, drops running down the windowpane I was in front of. Music from the radio played softly in the background and it reverberated throughout the living room.

"So why exactly are we here?" Sean asked from behind me.

I twirled around lowering my knuckle from my mouth and faced the four mutants behind me, "I wanted to have some fun since the rain has canceled training for today," I explained, shrugging my shoulders. "Speaking of training, I've been wanting to practice an ability of mine," I added, walking closer to them.

"And what would that be?" the redhead boy questioned curiously.

"My ability to create illusions," I answered smiling. "I can change how something looks, I can make people see what I want them to, make them believe or feel something that not there or that's not true. I can make things appear out of thin air, although somethings are harder than others," I finished, interlocking my arms behind my back.

"Awesome! Show us!" Sean cried in delight, I smirked, this was gonna be fun.

"Who wants to be my guinea pig?" I asked grinning wickedly, and tented my fingertips together, tapping them lightly. I was met with silence. It wasn't surprising from my smile and sinister finger tapping that no one would want to volunteer. "Fine I'll pick," Hmm. Who shall I pick on? I looked at them until my eyes landed on my favorite red head and smirked. "Sean, get up," I ordered, pointing at him.

"Aw! What! Why me?" he groaned getting up as everyone else laughed.

"Because you were the one who was so eager to see my power," I responded to him. "Don't worry. You won't be the only one who's going to be my victim," I carried on still with a grin on my face.

"Victim?" he balked as everyone else shouted out a, "What!" or "Come on!"

I focused on Sean and trapped him in my stare and watched the blank look manifest in his eyes. I closed my eyes and thought about I wanted him to do for the next minute or so and implanted it into his mind. My eyes snapped open and he burst into motion. Sean quickly crouched down, placing his hands on the floor and began panting as if he were a dog. Everyone burst out laughing and I joined. He started spinning around as if he were chasing his imaginary tail. He then turned his attention to Raven. She let out a firm "No" before Sean pounced on her, grabbed her hand and started repeatedly licking it.

"EWWWWW! GET HIM OFF! GET HIM OFF!" Raven started screaming in a mix of disgust and humor as the rest of us carried on laughing.

Sean then whipped around to Alex, quickly crawling over before he started to hump his leg.

"OH MY-! CLAUDIA GET HIM OFF!" Alex yelled at me whilst he attempted to keep Sean at bay. By now Raven, Hank, and I were hysterically laughing, Raven even had tears streaming down her face.

Finally Sean backed away and sat back on his chair, the blank look coming over him before he was released from my illusion and he looked around at all of us.

"That was awesome!" he laughed. "Apart from the humping, obviously. Sorry man,"he apologized looking at Alex who looked traumatized, whilst everyone still laughed. "It was weird like I knew what I was doing but I couldn't stop it. And there was a purple tint over my vision. Does that happen every time you do that?" He asked.

"Yep," I told him as I sat back down. "Anyone up for another game?" I asked smirking, looking around.

"NO!" the four of them yelled in unison.

"Oh come on," I began. "I was thinking about a harmless game of hide and go seek," I stated, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. "What do you say?" I asked.

"I'm in!" Raven cheered.

"Me too!" Sean agreed.

"Why not," Hank murmured.

"No powers!" Alex demanded, and I raised my hands in surrender.

"No powers," I repeated, nodding my head in agreement. "Not it!" I called quickly, standing up from my seat. Everyone followed my lead except for Alex because he called 'not it' too slowly. "All right Alex, you know the rules. Cover your eyes and count to fifteen since this place is so huge," I said, slowly backing away from him.

Alex grumbled under his breath and covered his face with his hands

"One," Alex began, and everyone in the living scattered in different directions.

"Two," As quietly as possible I bounded up the grand staircase and swiveled my head from left to right, looking down at each side.

"Three," I moved down the hallway and decided to hide in the last place that Alex would like. Feeling quite proud of myself I reached the door to my hiding spot. I opened the door without even bothering to knock, and spun around closing the door both quietly and quickly at the same time.

I leaned my head against the door momentarily and smiled, lifting my head from the door I turned and quickly glanced around the room. It was a lot like mine, the only difference being the strong masculine cologne that floated in the air. I spotted a cozy chair arranged near the fireplace and made my over to it sit down in the chair, only to be startled out of doing so by a familiar voice.

"Please don't," whipping around and looking down at the chair, I found one Charles Xavier sitting with his left leg over the right, where he had not been just seconds ago and grinning like a loon. "Sorry for the deception, love, but I was curious to see who was quickly approaching my door,"

I crossed my arms against my chest, "But why hide yourself?"

"You're playing hide and seek with the children, are you not?" Charles asked grinning.

"I was thinking of it as more of a training exercise," I replied, my lips forming into a smirk, "They don't know it, but I'm teaching them to think outside of the box," I explained. "Although, I think making yourself invisible is cheating Charles. No powers remember?" I pointed out.

Charles' lips upturned into a smile, "Out of all of the rooms in this house, why did you choose my room, Claudia?"

"Because I knew no one would be bold enough to try," I retorted.

"No one except you," Charles smirked.

"No one except me," I repeated grinning.

"I shouldn't have expected less," the telepath chuckled, his eyes sparkled with mirth. I opened my mouth to respond, but he just put his finger to his lips. "You'll thank me in a moment," he whispered, and almost simultaneously his bedroom door was opened by two familiar blonde headed mutants.

Alex and Raven both looked directly at me, but yet made no comment, it was like...I was invisible. I felt a small smile begin to work at my mouth and I looked back at Charles who mirrored my expression as he had two fingers on his temple.

"I thought you said you heard talking," Alex stated, slight frustration in his tone. "Because there is no one in here," he added, stepping in the room and checking the most obvious spots to hide like the closet, bathroom, and underneath the bed.

"I swear I did!" Raven exclaimed. "Maybe it was just the music I heard," she suggested, as Alex walked back to door.

"Maybe," he agreed, closing the door behind him.

Charles and I waited for about thirty seconds before erupting in soft laughter, "This house is enormous, this is hardly a fair fight," Charles pointed out, and I merely shrugged. "There's never been a dull moment in this house since you got here Claudia," he smiled, brandishing a book that had previously escaped my notice. "Can I assume you're the one responsible for the mayhem downstairs about five minutes ago?" Charles inquired.

"I wanted to further explore my abilities," I answered smiling. "Do you mind a companion?" I asked.

"Not at all, provided you don't try to sit on me again," Charles quipped, before looking back down at his book.

I glanced around the room seeing there wasn't another chair for me to sit.

"I might have to," I thought.

And so, it was with a small smirk that I sidled up the handsome man before me, and slid down into his lap just as Lena Horne cooed ‘Stormy Weather’ from the record player in the corner of the room.

Charles nearly jumped out of the chair, "Claudia! Wha-What are you-"

I looked up at him, "There were no other chairs, so I'd figure we could share," I explained, before raising my brows at him and watching a red flush crawl up his neck.

He swallowed thickly but managed a cool smirk of his own, "Is that so?" Charles asked, cocking his head to the side. His book slowly slipping out of his grasp and onto the floor with a soft thud.

My fingers moved to his shirt, straightening it out and brushing the strands of hair from his face, "Very much so," I smirked, flipping my hair over my shoulder. I leaned closer to Charles, my lips close to his ear, "Stormy weather. Just can't get my poor self together. I'm weary all the time, the time. Yes, weary all the time," I sung, slowly raising my knee until it brushed his crotch, my teasing, mischievous nature coming into play.

This harmless flirting had to peak eventually right?

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, "T-This is inappropriate," Charles' breathing hitched.

"How so?" I breathed out. "You're surely weren't thinking that this morning," I reminded.

"Well, I'm not going to deny that you are the most amazingly beautiful woman I have ever met-" Charles began.

"Oh how you flatter me Charles," I smiled.

"I've also been thinking about how I'm much older than you," Charles continued, and I rolled my eyes before pulling my head back to face Charles.

"I've been with old men before Charles," I drawled.

"Are you calling me old, Claudia?" he questioned, his lips quirking into a small smile.

"I never did such a thing, you called yourself old, Charles," I retorted, tilting my head slightly.

He chuckled and looked at me, his intense blue gaze that was fixed upon my own. I glance down at his lips and back to this eyes and he did the same as I leaned forward, our lips barely touching.

Charles lifted one of his hands and caressed my cheek softly, "While I want nothing more to claim your lips with my own," he sighed, pulling away from me. "Let's not rush into things, love," Charles suggested gently, a small smile gracing his features.

I recognized the look in his eye as he smiled at me. Charles Xavier may have been abnormal in almost every other aspect of his life, but when it came to attraction and women, he was exceedingly normal. And for the first time in years the thought of a man being attracted to me suited me just fine, especially one who said there was no need to rush.

I exhaled deeply and nodded my head, "If that's what you want," I conceded, pulling my head back as well. "Well, guess I was right," I mused, and Charles furrowed his brow. "The world may never really know when you're going to get that kiss," I smirked.

Charles grinned and I contented myself with him wrapping an arm around my waist as he read to me, all the while watching in amusement every time one of the children came in and searched the room over, each more frustrated than the last.

Chapter Nine: Challenges

#x-men fanfiction #black fanfiction #x-men fanfic #charles xavier fanfiction #charles xavier x oc #black!oc #magneto x oc #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #erik lehnsherr fanfiction #erik lehnsherr x oc #black!reader #x men fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine

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cherryeol04 · 4 years ago

Text

Magical Hands (M)

Genre: Smut Pairing: Felix x Reader Word Count: 3.1K Summary: All you wanted was a massage from your boyfriend. Instead, he decides to play with you.

You came home rotating your shoulder despite the sharp stab of pain you felt every time you moved your neck in certain directions. After swallowing three different types of pills throughout the day, you were 100% sure that you had a pinched nerve. Somehow you did something that your shoulder and neck absolutely hated and now you were paying the price for it. But for the life of you, you couldn’t remember doing anything out of the ordinary.

Groaning deeply, you dropped your purse onto the kitchen counter as you headed for the pantry where you kept the over the counter medication, ready to pop 3 more pain relievers with a prayer that maybe this time they’ll work. You didn’t think they would, but what else could you do? What you really wanted was to feel the magical fingers that your boyfriend, Felix, possessed. He was a masseuse, both as a hobby and by trade and you had seen him in action plenty of times. You could practically hear the relieved grunts and groans of Chan every time he came over to get his weekly massage. It was absolutely the most erotic thing that you had witnessed between the two. And yet you had never thought of asking Felix for a massage before.

Granted, you’ve never had a massage period, so it was never a thought that crossed your mind. But right now, that’s all you wanted. A hard massage, a glass of wine and your bed. Sighing, you placed the bottle of pills back in the cabinet and closed it, resting your head against the cool wood. “Fu~ck.” You whined out loudly, closing your eyes as you debated on what to do. You weren’t sure if Felix was home yet from work and you didn’t want to bother him if he was with a client. But you were so sore and in pain. Maybe you should just drink some wine and call it a night? Hopefully, the alcohol will numb the pain enough for you to get some sleep.

Pushing off the cabinet, you headed for the fridge and pulled it open, looking through the several bottles of wine you had stored in there. White? Red? Or Pink? What were you in the absolute mood for? It honestly didn’t matter what you picked, you were such a lightweight with any sort of alcohol that you were gonna get drunk by the time you went to bed, but what mattered was the taste. You decided after a few moments that you were in the mood for something fruity and picked your favorite pink Moscato. Closing the door to the fridge, you rummaged around the kitchen, looking for a wine glass when you felt a hand slid over your right shoulder and you nearly dropped everything in your hands as the touch aggravated the pain while simultaneously scaring the shit out of you. “Ow.”

“Y/n, you alright?” Felix asked, removing his hand quickly. He wrapped his arm around your waist quickly as your knees buckled and you slumped back against his chest. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes and you honestly just wanted to die. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“My shoulder.” You whimpered. “And neck. It’s so sore and nothing is helping.”

“So you figured you’d numb it away?” Felix asked as he glanced down at the wine in your grasp. He carefully took the bottle from your hand and sat it down on the kitchen counter, followed shortly by the glass.

“Felix, let me drink the pain away.” You all but pouted, your frown deepening as the only response you received was a kiss to your forehead.

“Come on baby, let’s go to bed. I’ll help ease that pain.” You smiled at him and nodded, letting Felix gently guide you back to the bedroom, ready for whatever it is he was going to do because any sort of relief would be worth it.

“Strip for me.” Looking back at him, you cocked your head at his demand, watching as he made his way to his bag in the corner of the room and started pulling out different massaging oils. Oh... so maybe you didn’t have to ask him for a massage after all. Humming lightly, you started stripping, careful with each movement so as not to make the pain any worse. Though you had a sneaky suspicion that the massage you were gonna receive might end up being a tad bit painful. You just hoped Felix would go easy on you.

Naked, you climbed onto the bed and sat there, watching as Felix brought his oils over. He paused, giving you a once over and smirking. It sent a shiver through you and you subconsciously lifted your arms to cover your exposed chest. He chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t know why you’re doing that.” He teased. “I’ve seen it all before.” His words didn’t help and you huffed as you clutched are your sides harder to keep yourself covered out of spite.

With another laugh, Felix climbed onto the bed behind you, dropping the bottles of oil next to you as he situated himself. "So tell me again, where is the pain?"

"Neck and shoulder. Like it starts at the base of my neck and just curves right down into my right shoulder. I've tried everything to get it to stop hurting and it won't go away." You whined, arms falling to your sides as you wait patiently for the other.

"Here?" Felix asked as he pressed his fingers along your neck and shoulder. The pain was almost instantaneous and you jolted to get away from his touch. "I'm sorry." he quickly apologized as you whined out, lowering your head as you tried to breathe through the pain until it subsided. Once it gradually dulled, you raised your head carefully and looked back at him.

"This is going to hurt, isn't it?" you asked softly. Felix flashed a sad smile and nodded. "Okay, just be gentle."

"I'll be as gentle as I possibly can." he assured you. Reaching over, he grabbed one of the bottles and opened it. The scent of Eucalyptus and Menthol filled the air and it reminded you of your favorite body wash, which coincidentally you also had as a candle that you burned every now and then. It calmed you, relieving whatever stress you had from the day and this oil was no different. Your muscles were already relaxing before anything was even done. Maybe you just needed to inhale the smell for half an hour or something? It couldn't hurt, but a part of you knew you needed the actual massage to release whatever tension your neck and shoulder might have. You could hear the light squelch as Felix rubbed the oil between his hands - warming it up - before gently placing them on both of your shoulders. He worked in unison, both hands gently caressing your skin to smooth the oil over it.

The oil itself gave off a cooling sensation for the briefest of moments before it gave way to a tingling sensation that wasn't all unpleasant as it warmed up. It was very nice and you let out a soft sigh of contentment as Felix worked over your muscles lightly. The pressure was never too much, and you could tell he was trying to be as careful as possible. Yet, you weren't at all surprised that he managed to hit a sore spot in his exploration. In fact, it was probably the sorest spot and most likely the area the was causing the radiating pain. You jerked and Felix's left hand gripped your shoulder to keep you in place. He pressed again, even lighter than last time, and yet you could still feel the pain as he rolled his thumb back and forth over the spot. "F-Felix." you choked out.

"You got a nasty knot right there." His left hand moved and started rubbing small circles over your lower back and left shoulder as he continued to focus on the spot on the left. Each touch sent electric sparks through your body and you just wanted to cry. And you did. The soft sound had Felix pausing and he retracted his hand almost instantly. "Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?"

It was a relief when the touches stopped, allowing your mind to clear as you focused briefly on your breathing. The pain dulled away and you heaved a heavy sigh - debating if you should continue this massage or not. It was more painful than you originally thought and you weren't entirely sure you would be able to handle the pain. "I-I don't know." you whispered. "It hurts a lot. But I feel like the massage will help. I just can't take the pain." you confessed. Silence enveloped you and you felt so disappointed in yourself for not being able to handle this. You felt weak and you hated it, especially since you were in front of your boyfriend. He must think so poorly of you now.

"Baby." Felix's voice was deep, yet soft and like a melody, you would always listen to over and over. His voice was one of the many reasons you fell in love with him. "I think I might have a solution to your problem." he said carefully and you turned your body to face him since turning your neck hurt even more now. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course." Felix's smile was absolutely beautiful. He was so pleased with your answer and how quickly you gave it. It was the truth - you trusted him with your life. The way his eyes crinkled and his nose scrunched up slightly was heartwarming. It only seemed to accentuate the gorgeous galaxy of freckles that adorned his face. It always amazed you how he could be so handsome and mature, yet cute and boyish at the same time. His duality was shocking, but you wouldn't have him any other way.

"Good, turn back around."

You hesitated for a moment before turning back around. You rolled your shoulders back to try and help relax yourself, but it only reminded you of the pain that was dully throbbing. You felt the bed shift as Felix grabbed another bottle and opened it. This time the scent of citrus filled the air and you felt like you had been transported to a tropical island. Those were always your favorite scents - the ones that reminded you of being on an island getaway. Nothing but the sun and the sea beckoning you. The familiar squelch of liquid filled your ears as Felix warmed the oil before placing his hand back against your shoulder and slowly started rubbing the sore knot. The pain wasn't as intense before, but it was there and you were very mindful of how Felix's fingers were working over the tender flesh.

It was strange, however, how the oil this time started off as warm and was increasingly getting hotter. It didn't get too hot where it burned you, but it was a pleasant heat, almost as if you had a heating pad on your shoulder or taking a nice relaxing hot bath. You knew warming oils existed, but you had never tried them before. This was interesting and you had to admit, you really liked it.

Felix's free hand wrapped around your waist suddenly, and he pulled you back against him. Your oily back was pressed against his chest and you were briefly worried that you were going to ruin his nice dress shirt, but when you tried to pull away you couldn't, his grip tightening around you. "Just relax." he whispered, a shiver running down your spine at how deep and husky his voice was. His left hand slowly crept lower, fingers walking across your stomach teasingly, making the muscles tense and spams at the wonderfully horribly feeling. You wanted to both laugh and moan at the touch and you absolutely hated it.

His fingers dipped down further and you bit your bottom lip as they grazed your folds, sliding almost effortlessly against them - leaving a tingling warm sensation in their wake. It was at that moment you realized that this had was also covered in the oil. For a terrifying moment you were worried about how the oil would interact with such a sensitive part of your body, but the more Felix touched you, the warmer the oil made you feel and not in a bad way.

Your body relaxed against him, your legs parting to give him better access to you. His hole hand moved and cupped your pussy, coating it liberally with the remaining oil on his hand. The heat started off slight, slowly growing in intensity that was nearly indescribable. It didn't hurt, but tingled in the best sort of way. It reminded you of the many times when you sat wrong and your pussy actually went numb. Strange but pleasurable. And when Felix shifted his hand back, two fingers slipping between your folds and rub against your clit, you couldn't stop the gasp that fell from your lips, thighs jerking at the sudden spark of pleasure swirling within your gut.

Felix chuckled and rubbed your clit again and you whined, letting your head fall back and eyes close as you basked in the pleasure the other was giving you. "Felix." Titling his head, Felix pressed a gentle kiss to your neck, nipping lightly as his fingers continued to move, drawing little shapes and driving you absolutely mad with want and desire. Your thighs continued to tremble with the direct stimulation to your clit and it was starting to become too much for you. You reached down, gripping his wrist tightly, but making no move to stop him. You just needed him to know and realize. And he did, moving his fingers to rest just above the little nub to pressed and rub there. It wasn't as intense, but just as pleasurable and you found your hips lifting, trying to get more.

"God, please." you begged out, yet Felix made no move to give you anything more than his teasing touches. His lips found your ear, pressing light kisses to it, drawing your attention away from the mounting pleasure in you and you hated it. Hate that your brain betrayed your body so much, focusing on something that wasn't going to cause your immediate orgasm. Felix called it orgasm control, you called it just being plain mean.

"You like this baby? Being spread out for me, letting me play with your pretty pussy like this." You moaned, a shudder wracking your body as you wiggled your hips, rubbing yourself against his slowly moving fingers. "So desperate, what do you want?"

"M-more." you struggled to get out, breaths coming out in quick pants. Felix gave another chuckle and slipped his fingers back down over your clit, drawing figure eights against it that had your back arching. "Fuck Felix, please!"

"Tell me what you want, sweetheart."

"Your fingers." you whined out and jerked as he flicked his finger against the tip of your clit.

"You already have my fingers baby. Is this not enough?"

"Want them inside." It was a pathetic plea, and you hoped your boyfriend would take mercy on you. You had one hell of a day, gone through such pain and now all you wanted to do was get off. "Please Felix?"

Felix hummed lightly, pausing in his movements and you wanted to cry. You could feel your body slowly unwinding and you didn't want that. You had been so worked up - so close - and now it was waning. Felix gave a firm tap against your clit and whimpered with need. It seemed your boyfriend was willing to take pity on you as his fingers trailed down, pressing lightly against your dripping hole. "You want this?"

"Yes." gasped out, hips rocking down in hopes of pushing those fingers inside you. You weren't sure if it actually worked or if Felix was just being kind. Regardless, he slipped his two fingers inside you, stretching you and felt like such a relief. Your hand squeezed around his wrist as you bit your bottom lip, deep moans leaving you as Felix moved his fingers. They pressed and rubbed against your walls, sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through you. You felt full, but it still wasn't enough and you were about to voice your complaints when he curled his fingers upwards and pressed repeatedly.

"Oh Felix!" You cried out, hips bucking as you trembled against his body. You feel the sweat rolling down your thighs and hips as the pleasure intensified. His fingers alternated between pressing and rubbing against your g-spot, your high mounting faster than before. Your chest heaved with every pant, the coil of arousal tightening in your gut. You could feel it coming - so close to the edge. "Yes, gonna cum. Felix I'm going to cum." You whined out, a loud cry being pulled from you as Felix's thumb started rubbing your clit once more. Your walls tightened around his fingers, thighs closing tightly around his hand as you came - mouth open as heady whines fell from your lips.

As your spasms slowly eased up, your legs parted as you fell limp against him. He laughed and carefully removed his fingers from your sensitive core and wiped them against the covers of the bed. "That was so good." you whispered and Felix laughed again.

"Glad I could help baby." he cooed, running his fingers through your hair gently. "How does your shoulder feel?" he asked. You looked up at him confused for a moment. It dawned on you what you two had actually been doing - forgotten by your own need to cum - and you sat up. You rolled your shoulder, turned your head, and gasped.

"Oh my god! It doesn't hurt anymore!" You were shocked, because you certainly didn't think an orgasm would help with the pain. But then again, maybe Felix had been working your shoulder the whole time he was getting you off, you couldn't be sure. "Babe, you're fucking amazing!" Reaching out, you cupped his face and pulled him into a kiss. "God I love you." He laughed against your lips, returning the kiss before pulling back.

"I love you too babe. I'm glad my magical hands could help your pain."

"Me too." You smiled, letting out a soft sigh. "Now I'm ready for a nice shower and bed."

"Go shower and I'll clean up the mess." Felix chuckled as he moved from behind you and grabbed his massaging oils to put them away. You watched him with a fond smile before getting up and making your way to the bathroom. Now that your pain was gone, all that was left was to get ready for bed and cuddle your wonderful boyfriend

Tags: @starryseung @channiesmixtape @lordseochangbin @jisungsjheekies @felixsanxchatbot

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everlastingdreams · 4 years ago

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Weeping Monk x Reader : Playing With Fire chapter 3

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Story Summary: The Huntsman, that is what they called your brother. A name he had earned by hunting down the fey for coin. Coin that is given by Father Carden for his services. You refuse to stand aside and watch how your brother hunts down those who are fey. When you start to warn the fey camps your brother wishes to attack, you find yourself behind enemy lines. But when the Weeping Monk becomes suspicious of you, you realise you are playing with fire.

Chapter Summary: You are less then pleased with the situation you find yourself in and find yourself unable to resist the urge to pester the Monk. The Monk tries to figure out who he is dealing with and what he should do.

Warnings: None in this one I think.

Word count: 1669 words in this chapter.

Chapter: 3/ 30+ something (buckle up, it’s a wild ride.)

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After what felt like you had circled the whole damn forest, the Monk finally stopped. The sun was going down when he descended from his horse and walked towards you. He grabbed the rope and started to bundle it in his hands as he approached. You thought about your options. Running ? Not without the boy and he had a horse. Fighting ? Without a weapon you had little chance. He took hold of your upper arm and started to pull you along “Don't try to escape. I will capture you again, and I will not be this polite. Understood ?” You glared at him “What is your plan, Monk ? Why have you dragged me and this boy through the forest ?” He stopped next to a tree and started to bind the rope around it, and you realised he was keeping you at a distance from the boy. Which would make escaping near impossible as you could not reach the boy to untie him. “I will tell you mine if you tell me yours.” He looked at you and you knew he must suspect something about you. You ignored him, something he expected. “No ? Then I will let you resume your speculations.” The Monk seemed almost entertained. He let go off your arm after he finished tying the rope to the tree. By the way he had tied your hands together it would prove impossible to break free. You had little to no room to move far from the tree. He then walked over to the boy, Squirrel, to tie his ropes in a 'safe' spot as well. You watched as he collected some fallen branches to make a fire, all while he kept a watchfull eye on you and the boy. After a while you slid down against the tree, you couldn't deny that you were tired after walking for so long and the boy looked tired as well. The cursing had stopped minutes ago and you saw how Squirrel struggled to stay awake before he ended up falling asleep. You wondered if this were your last hours alive. Considering the Monk had not killed you yet, the only other thing you could think of was that he was taking you to Father Carden to be judged for trying to save a fey boy. Moments passed and now you struggled to stay awake, you saw the Monk sit down and lean against a tree not far from you. His eyes focusing on the fire in front of him. You still couldn't believe how calm he looked. As if this was something that happened daily. Still, you were glad he didn't seem to be interested in torturing you on the way to Father Carden. You hated to admit that he was almost polite, you doubted the his red brothers would be this 'polite'. He had not even scolded the boy for all the cursing aimed at him, not even once. You struggled against the tight ropes, trying to get them a little looser. The Monk must have noticed your attempts "Did you need a hand ?" He looked uninterested but you noted a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Was he seriously joking right now ?? You glared over at him and sarcastically answered "Why, yes. But unfortunately some madman tied them up !" He ignored you again and after a while you felt like pestering him out of spite. If he was going to keep you captive, you would make this situation as unpleasant for him as it was for you “How's the shoulder ?” He had closed his eyes but opened them slightly when he heard the mocking question “How are the wrists ?” he shot back. You rolled your eyes, they felt sore and were a little swollen "Perfectly fine." "Excellent, then I won't have to loosen the ropes a little for you. I had assumed they were swollen." He deadpanned. Gods, you hated the smug bastard. "Smug bastard." You said through your teeth. He leaned his head back against the tree, letting out a disgruntled noise and then suddenly got up. You were instantly alarmed as he walked towards you. Shit, did you push it too far ? His hand reached out near your face and out of habit you flinched and closed your eyes. Living with Draegan all these years had caused that reflex. However the impact of pain never came. You opened your eyes again and saw he had halted his movement at your reaction. Then he gingerly reached for the rope and loosened it just a little so it no longer cut into your skin. You looked at him bewildered. He looked over at the boy who still slept before moving away from you and sitting down against the tree again. He rested his head against it, closing his eyes to rest. You looked at your wrists and then back to him. That was.. strange ? You had insulted him and he did something...nice ? You studied the Monk curiously. Not only did he not look like the Red Paladins, he also did not act like one of them.

After staring at him for a bit you spoke "Is this what you do then ? Drag people behind your horse through the forest. Are you that desperate for some human interaction ?" The Monk sighed deeply at your rambling "I've heard it is what your brother does. But there is less talking when he does it." With less talking he meant there was screaming or worse. You casted your eyes down, another reminder of how cruel your brother truly was. You didn't comment on it anymore, instead you turned to lay against the tree. The last thing you wanted to think about was your brother. If Father Carden didn't have you killed for interferring, you doubted your brother would do the same. You felt your eyes get heavy and felt the alluring sensation of sleep carry you away.

The Monk had noticed your sudden silence at the mention of the Huntsman's actions. After some time had passed he had looked over at you from the corner of his eye and saw that you had fallen asleep. Not suprising after the long walk, and it had also been what he had hoped for. You and the boy were the perfect bait. Yet, there was something plaguing him. It was the moment he had pulled you towards him while he was sitting on Goliath. It had taken him a moment to realise what you had suggested. At first he wasn't sure if he was drawing the correct conclusion but one look at you, looking down at the ground, confirmed it. He knew you helped the fey, but to sacrifice yourself like this for the life of one fey boy was something that left him aghast. There were few lines he would not cross and taking advantage of a woman who was his captive and bound by ropes was one of them. Not just because of his faith but the idea itself made him sick to the stomach. He'd heard about Paladins abusing their authority to take advantage of others, and he made sure none of them would even attempt it if he was around. The thought that you suspected him to be capable of such behaviour, that you feared it could be his intention, made him feel terrible. You had never looked afraid before, not at your village, not even when he had held his sword against you. No. But when he had looked down at you from his horse, he knew you were afraid. The rest of the ride it kept gnawing at him, and he wondered what he was going to do with you after he had succeeded in his plan in lurring the fey. Which had been his plan all along, you and the boy were just bait that is why you were useful to him. A defenceless woman and child would work like a magnet on the fey hiding in this forest. He was positive that you were giving information to the fey to warn them. He had no hard evidence, and to just accuse the sister of the Huntsman would be foolish. But he would have to decide wether or not to kill you soon, a decission he was struggling with.

He watched as you slept, uncertain if it was out of fear you would break free and kill him if he slept as well, or of it was because you looked far less intimidating while you slept. The angry frown was gone, no clenched jaw. Just sleeping almost peacefully under the less then ideal circumstances. You moved a little while you slept and then he noticed something. It would be hard to spot for most in the dark, but he had spend many nights like this and his eyes had adjusted well to it. Your sleeve had moved up somewhat, revealing a rather large bruise. You could have gotten it from walking through the forest and having branches make contact with your skin. But the shape of it revealed a whole different story. There were small bruises close to it. Someone had grabbed you and caused the bruises. He thought back to the moment he had disarmed you in the forest, he had no recollection of ever grabbing that arm. Let alone having been rough enough to cause a bruise that bad. He frowned as he studied it, how had you obtained it ? You did not seem like the kind of person to end up in fights. As if hearing his thoughts, you turned over in your sleep. Now facing away from him. He let his head rest against the tree again, not long after he fell a into a shallow slumber. He had not rested for long before he was completely alert again. The Monk had caught their scent long before they had approached him. He had pretended to be asleep up until they had poked him with the strangely shaped weapon. "Get up, you murdering pig !"

@itsjustjenna @thesneakylittleminx @ourlazydetectivekitten @the-great-adventures-of-me @linkpk88 @mixedchicaq @boredoomfm @soccmoss @fxrchxldws @rogershoe @elenaoftheturks @slytherlight @beananacake @tanyaherondale @lancelotapricot @captainbucky-yt

#weeping monk #weeping monk x reader #weepingmonk/reader #weeping monk x you #weeping monk fanfiction #cursed weeping monk #lancelot x you #lancelot x reader #Cursed Netflix #cursed fic #cursed squirrel #cursed lancelot #Nimulot #nimulot tag in case people looking for stuff to read but it's not nimulot to be clear duh #the weeping monk

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willadisastercry · 4 years ago

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Keith relapsing and not being able to stop once he starts... pt 2

(((( Once again: please, please, please read the trigger warnings and proceed with caution before reading this. I vividly describe Keith’s internal struggle after he relapses... if anything even remotely regarding self harming or someone discovering a person who has is sensitive to you I HIGHLY RECOMMEND YOU DONT READ ))))

tw: in depth depiction of acting on self harm ideations/urges, scars, relapsing, becoming ill from blood loss, someone discovering a person after they relapse, rationalizing their self harm because the alternative is suicide, contradicting oneself and later very much deciding they would rather be unalived, panic attack symptoms, reopening a wound, allusion to surgery (stitches)

Keith is still very out of it after having a full fledged panic attack and the last thing he wants is to invite another spectator into the mix to watch him devolve further. So Shiro agrees to do something he hasn’t had to do in a very long time... courtesy of his battlefield medicine training.

Also again... YES klance and NO klance. You can interpret it however but their questioningly less and less ‘no homo’ behavior uh certainly ramps up and I suggest that they’ve had certain discussions/interactions before... definitely still not the main focus of this fic but there for context bc it just happened that way.

Part 1 / Part 2

The tension in the air was palpable as it hung on all of them. Lance watched Shiro’s entire body visibly relax, the grimace on his face the only tell that he was working through something in his mind, remembering something unpleasant.

Keith’s wimper pulled both boys back after a minute of terrible silence.

Several of the hardest cuts to close had broken free of the glue that held them and were gushing steadily. Keith was paling by the minute as he continued to breathe rapidly and tremble as if he was cold despite the sweat on his forehead.

He just wanted this to be over. To finally be asleep where at least then he could pretend that it had never actually happened and it was just a horrible dream.

Without saying anything more Shiro pressed the bandage back to his side and moved Lance’s hand to hold pressure there while he stood up and scanned the room, his eyes landing on Keith’s towel. It was hardly even damp then with how much time had passed since Keith had finished his shower.

“Keith, I know you’re not going to want me to,” he started with his jaw set as he pulled Keith towards him for a moment to lay the towel beneath him despite his meager protests.

“...but I have to tell Coran so that he can—“

He stopped when Keith let out a desperate whine as he released his hand from his mouth to tug on Shiro’s arm, his fingers digging in like he was trying to anchor them to something so he didn’t drift away as his chest started working double time.

“No. You can’t! You’re n-not t-tell-telling him.”

“Keith, I know that this is—“

“No, you dont,” Keith rasped, “you d-don’t know anything and you c-can-can’t tell Coran.”

The fear in his wide eyes was enough to make Lance want to cry for the umpteenth time that night, his chest hitching painfully as he pleaded with Shiro, getting himself more worked up as he did.

“Calm down, buddy. You know how this works. You know we have to get you fixed up.”

He shook his head back and forth as Shiro tried to rationalize with him.

“Keith,” he paused with a lengthy sigh because the last thing he wanted was to do something that Keith didn’t want him to do.

“Keith it’s bad. You need stitches, we have to.”

His purple saucers met Shiro’s grey pinpoints for a long moment, fear and desperation glistening in Keith’s and making Shiro want to pull him up into a bone crushing embrace.

“Then y-you do it...” he all but whispered through a heave as he tried to take in enough air to satisfy the ache in his chest so he could talk.

“Ke—“

“You’ve d-done-done i-it-it before Sh-Sh-Shi—fuck. P-please, j-j-ju-just-just-j—“

“Okay,” Shiro agreed, his voice pitching higher as he tried to assuage the budding panic evident in Keith’s anguished expression and worsening trembling.

“Hey, it’s okay. I will. Shhh, I will.”

He repeated the words religiously after Keith began to choke on his own, his face reeling with frustration when the full body trembling made him unable to get a proper sentence out and the effort of trying sent him spiraling further.

Shiro carded his hand through Keith’s still damp hair as his hands rose back up to his face, his feet kicking against the bed as the terrible dropping feeling worked its way through his stomach, gasping as it did. Lance watched in horror as Shiro tried to comfort him but any point of contact made Keith struggle harder.

He absolutely hated being so vulnerable, so reliant on others in such a fragile state. He knew he sorely needed the affection but his body instinctively cringed away from their touches, at war with itself as his mind lied to him, told him he was pathetic for needing such a thing. Another part wanting to melt into even the faintest brush against his shuddering body. All while feeling the consequences of losing a pretty descent amount of blood, the loss fogging his mind to a point that made it immeasurably harder to not succumb to panic, especially since he was still bleeding.

It was truly the perfect storm and he hated every second of it.

His lungs felt like they were being dripped dry of every ounce of oxygen in them as the phantom sensation of spinning returned and disordered his heaving breaths further as he fought the urge to vomit. The bone deep exhaustion seemed to be rather helpful then, the physical symptoms of his anxiety fizzling out in minutes as he quite literally just lacked the faculties to accommodate them.

“I’m right here, Keith,” Shiro assured when his grip on his arm tightened and then wavered as he began to sink back into the mattress, his hands settling restlessly on his chest as they shook.

“That’s it, you’re alright.”

Shiro griped his shoulder securely now, the metal of his prosthetic arm weighing with an oddly pleasant pressure on Keith as his whole body shook still.

Closing his eyes seemed a tad less dangerous once he could breathe somewhat regularly again and the intense dizziness had somewhat dissipated. They were also swollen like hell and heavy from all the crying so shutting them became less of an active choice then as well.

Lance’s hand moved to his leg after a beat, just to peek and make sure that those wounds hadn’t met a similar fate. He watched as Shiro’s face dropped when he saw the second wrapping, swallowing thickly and shifting where he sat on the edge of the bed to speak to Lance.

“Will you get him to eat something while I go grab a few things?”

He nodded and made his way to the forgotten tray of snacks he’d nabbed as Shiro took off for supplies. The sobbing had died down after the climax of his panic did but the tears didn’t seem to ever dry up, evident from the sniffling every few minutes as he tried to clear his airways.

“Hey,” Lance nudged his arm where it had moved to cover his blotchy face again, “why don’t you sit up a little, gotta eat something...”

He didn’t even try, just shook his head.

“N-nauseous,” he stuttered, the shaking impossibly infuriating as he tried to relax enough to do anything other than cry.

“Hmmm, well you could also have juice, I can water it down a little. That sound doable?”

He just sighed and Lance took his indifference as a ‘whatever’ and went ahead anyway, nudging him again when he had a modified juice pouch for him.

“You don’t have to sit up all the way, there’s a straw,” Lance noted when Keith tried to raise himself up on shaking arms before they gave out. He grunted defeatedly and tried to scooch back on bent elbows and sit up that way but found he didn’t have the core strength then to do that either.

“Here, what if I...” Lance mused with a shy smile as he moved to pull Keith up enough to slide in behind him, bringing the pouch up to his lips where his now propped up head rested securely in the crook of his arm, still racked by tremors but seemingly more at ease with the contact.

“That better?”

Keith didn’t answer, just sucked on the straw of the pouch like he was dying of dehydration. By the time he’d finished the pouch Shiro was walking through the automatic door with a whoosh that startled Keith, his breathing picking back up as he nestled his head further into Lance’s arm like he was trying to hide under it.

“He finished some juice,” Lance stated proudly as Shiro laid out the haul of medical supplies he brought back.

“That’s good, something solid would be better though. Hm, how bout the bread?” Shiro asked, walking back over to the tray and picking up a roll from the batch Hunk had made with a type of alien wheat they’d found.

Keith grumbled but took it from Shiro’s outstretched hand because he knew that he wouldn’t be able to win that debate, but more because he knew what was coming next and he wanted that more than anything.

“What?! You just give in for Shiro but with me it’s like pulling teeth? I’m offended, mullet. Deeply offended,” Lance scoffed and Keith made a noise as he bit into the bread begrudgingly.

“It’s not personal, he just knows not to be stubborn unless he wants to be awake while I stitch him up.”

Lance’s heart sunk impossibly further into his chest because Shiro had fully found him like that before... and done this exact thing after. This wasn’t new to either of them.

God he wanted to cry too.

Once Keith had made a sizeable dent in the roll from the dinner he’d missed Shiro handed him three pills of which Lance assumed were some variant of a sleep aid that took him a while to swallow with how choppy he was breathing still. The high sort of buzz had never really gone away and only worsened when his anxiety took over, leaving him both feeling floaty and trapped in a constant state of shaking.

Lance tried to comfort him now that he seemed more receptive to being touched, tracing light circles on the shoulder not tucked against him and leaving his other hand out where he could reach it in case he needed something to squeeze.

In the time being Shiro had set up a sterile tray for what looked like a literal fish hook and a whole bunch of gauze. Oh, jeez. Lance wasn’t sure he could stomach watching and tried to manifest being able to just hold Keith in his arms while Shiro worked, ya know for moral support. For Keith obviously.

“How ya doing? Tired yet?” Shiro inquired as he continued to ready the tray, fiddling with bottles of medicine similar to what Lance had used before.

“Mhmm, getting... sleepy,” he slurred, his trembling dying down a bit as the medicine helped his body relax.

“Good,” Shiro let out a hollow laugh at the way he sounded like a kid again, “Lance will you let me know when he’s out?”

The altean medicine was working quickly, aided by the fact that he was already utterly spent and leaving his eyes fluttering as his breathing evened out. He didn’t want to fall asleep still worked up or he’d probably be restless, maybe even come to and be more disoriented than before. So he dragged out the relief of slowly being pulled to sleep by the flick of Lance’s fingers on his arm, forcing his eyes to remain open as long as he could manage.

“Yep, shouldn’t be long,” Lance noted when Keith let out a hissing yawn and turned his face towards Lance’s chest, his cheek resting against the squishiest part he could find and making Lance stifle a gasp.

Keith wasn’t known for being cuddly and the gesture, though not really a conscious one, made Lance’s stomach flutter. He wasn’t able to dwell on it long though because Shiro was addressing him again.

“Can you pinch his arm...?”

Lance obliged and Keith didn’t make a sound.

“Perfect, okay, you won’t get squeamish will you?”

“Uh... glue is a bit different than a needle but even that sort of freaked me out.”

“Alright then, you can clean and dissolve what opened up while I handle what’s already free,” Shiro determined as he ushered the familiar supplies closer to Lance.

He took up the needle which was already threaded and sighed heavily before pulling Keith’s desk chair flush up against the bed.

“Help me get him more on his side.”

They managed to by Lance pulling him by the shoulders and more onto his lap as Shiro pushed.

Shiro breathed deeply then, something in his eyes flickering as he removed the soaked through bandage from the younger boy’s hip. His entire side coated again, the skin visibly raised and puffy.

Lance took up the wound wash and showed it to Shiro who nodded, bringing the towel up to catch the excess liquid as he poured. Once he’d sopped up what had bled again Shiro started with the widest gash, the hardened glue was easy to pull off with how horribly it had been secured over such a large area. Lance looked elsewhere, focusing on removing the glue from the other reopened wounds.

Shiro operated like a robot after that, known quite literally for a precise hand but what happened next took that generalization to a whole other level. His fingers moved swiftly, tying off stitches almost faster than Lance could wash out the gashes but definitely quicker than he could remove the blue tinted glaze. He had to scrub and scrape at the substance from the open wounds, the bloody mess they’d become making the task harder than it ought to have been.

In actuality only a few had reopened, but they were also the deepest. Some of them took upwards of five stitches, others two or three. The proximity of them to each other, especially to ones that were still glued, made it difficult for Shiro to figure out where to place the needle.

They were done after ten or so minutes but when Shiro sat back to analyze his work, he frowned.

“What’s up?” Lance questioned dubiously.

Shiro didn’t answer, just brought his hand down to examine the glue that was barely holding about a dozen more wounds together. They’d grown darker, the amount of red beneath the generous amount of blue visibly greater than the lesser wounds as more blood gathered and threatened to burst out as well.

“Some of these look like they’re about to go too, they haven’t clotted. I don’t think they’d heal right if I don’t stitch them up, they’d leave worse, uh—worse scars.”

Lance nodded transfixedly, not sure if his heart could take hearing more things like that, more direct acknowledgments of how one of his best friends had hurt himself so badly... how it hadn’t been the first time... how he couldn’t make sure it was the last if even Shiro had failed to.

“-nce. Lance, hey, don’t let me lose you now. I need you to work on dissolving the rest of the glue,” Shiro said, his tone gentle again as he brought Lance back from the depths of his weary mind.

“Right,” he affirmed more for himself as he brought the dissolving liquid back down while Shiro rethreaded his needle.

Opening a just about to burst wound was admittedly a lot harder on Lance’s stomach than freeing one that had already. There was so much more blood because when he was done with one side it’d spring open and pool immediately as he fought to dissolve the rest before it spilled out and got everywhere.

Both of them were coated then, the only saving grace that kept Lance’s nerves at bay was Shiro having the forethought to have them both wear gloves, but that just made it seem like a literal operation. And with the amount of black threading Keith back together it was seeming more like one each horrible minute it droned on.

Shiro had lost his vest and jacket somewhere around the third time he had to rethread his needle, Lance’s discarded too after some time, both of them uncomfortably warm as they poured over stitching Keith back together.

Oh, oh god.

That did it for him.

Lance huffed shakily and turned his head away as he nearly lost it again over how much he wished he could do more than just help heal his wounds, he wanted to mend every one of his broken pieces, put the parts of him back together that you couldn’t see.

He couldn’t stand the thought of slapping a bandage on what had happened and ever going about normally again.

“Lance...”

Shiro looked at him with sorry eyes, wanting to hug him as he blinked back tears but Keith was very much preventing that from being possible.

“I’m okay, sorry—it’s just a lot.”

“I know. We’re almost done if that helps, just need to finish up on this one and then I want to take a quick look at his leg,” Shiro offered as he got back to the gash that was almost closed.

“It wasn’t as bad, only a few were deep,” Lance noted, his eyes glossy as they stared at Shiro’s busy hands, not even registering the way they pulled on Keith’s skin as they tied off the last knot.

Shiro nodded, sneaking a worried glance over at Lance who didn’t meet his gaze as he finished applying an ungodly amount of tape over top the gauze he’d put on the area. He then manhandled Keith’s leg so he could get at his thigh.

Lance looked down at his arms. There wasn’t much blue of the medical gloves on his hands showing, blood smeared past even that and up his arms. He hurriedly yanked at them, peeling one off within the other and folding the outer one over itself.

“Just toss it, I’ll clean this all up later.”

Shiro suggested noticing how dangerously close Lance was to unraveling and hoping to delay it until he could actually help.

He was right though, only a handful required stitches and half as many as the ones on his hip had needed at that. Shiro was done in record time, taking over Lance’s job of removing the glue and cleaning up the mess that followed, finishing by wrapping a thicker bandage around his leg and taping it in place.

When Shiro finally sat back and started to clean up he was dimly aware that Lance was silently crying and had scooted further down the bed to hold Keith more securely in his arms. Though he was definitely out he had never fully stopped shaking, but now it seemed more like a nervous system response to the nowhere near healthy amount of blood he’d lost. Lance moved his hands up and down his arm in attempt to soothe him anyway.

Shiro brought the throw blanket at the foot of the bed over the two of them after he’d removed all of the trashed medical supplies from it. Lance’s eyes had fluttered shut but were open now.

“He shouldn’t be up anytime soon but you look wiped, figured you’d want to stay...”

He nodded absently, eyes bleary but understanding as Shiro moved about the room for a little before sitting down at the foot of the bed.

“I’ll handle talking to him about all this tomorrow but in the case that he isn’t entirely dead to the world when the morning drill alarm goes off, tell him that he is not only excused but barred from training and piloting Red until his stitches are out.”

Lance just nodded again and yawned, pulling the blanket over the rest of his upper body.

“And Lance... “

He eyed Lance with a sort of fondness then.

“I know how fucked up tonight was, it couldn’t have been easy. You didn’t have to help him, you could’ve just gotten me, but you did. And I don’t know what kind of headspace he’ll be in when he wakes up but I do know he’ll be grateful you were there for him... even if he has a funny way of showing it.”

The lump in Lance’s throat bobbed threateningly, his eyes stinging again as he whispered a meak ‘thanks’ as Shiro stood up and leaned closer to ruffle his perfect hair before he turned to leave, shutting the lights off before he did.

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