#ugh the quality of this video is god awful | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

emmiri-bumble · 1 year

Text

since my online origin is actually tumblr i feel a bit more open with like.. being unhinged about Dotty and her DN rewrite timeline and endorsing the fact that Naomi/Noddy, L's daughter, and Natsuki/Nat, Light's daughter, are absolutely some of my all time favorite characters that ive written (largely based on funnee family videos)

(please accept the crungled quality im working with scraps) And if youre not familiar with my DN rewritten; In short the synopsis is "What if L always had a friend from the start?", " What if people were allowed to be lgbt+?", and "What if i spat in the face of the god of all death itself?"

Anyways Dot has a kid with L and Light. Thats how it be. Here's a bunch of the greatest hits of Nat and Noddy

~ Someone's filming L L knocks on Naomi's bedroom door Baby Naomi opens it Naomi: ba? L: hello miss I'm selling girl guide cookies, are you interested in buying a box? They're £2.75 each. Naomi: uuuh- L: I have all the kinds. Thin mints… Shortbreads… Samoas Naomi: no no bah bah L: ok thank you byyye -Naomi closes the door- Mello, loudly, inside that room: Naomi did you seriously just send that poor scout away without buying me nothin??? L starts giggling quietly so hard that he has to brace himself against the wall. Mello, play yelling: WHAT THE FUCK, DUDE??? Naomi: BABABABAGHAA!!!!!!!! L practically collapses ~ L gently feeding months old Naomi her first lemon slice while out to dinner. Naomi: gbbh. She sucks on it. Naomi: buh…gaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!! L: yeah it's bad without sugar, isn't it?

L feeds months old Nat her first lemon slice while out at dinner. Nat: ubbu? Nat suckles on it longer than Noddy and L takes it away. Nat: eeehehehe!! She leans in for more. L: weird. Light: ….weird.

Naomi: What game you playin, Lollie? Ollie, too focused: hm? Near: he's playing "paying the bills" Naomi: is he winning? Ollie: no.

~ BB: don't you want to get a job someday? Naomi: no because i don't want to be sad.

~ Mello: have fun at school! Naomi: that's not how school works.

~ Naomi: Beebee tell me which hand has a sock in it!!!! B looks and sees Naomi holding out two hands, palm up. With one hand that's clearly clenched around a sock. B: you're the child of the smartest people i know. Naomi: i know that thank you! B: and you're stupid if you think I'm fooled. Naomi: don't… Don't be naughty :' 0

~ Isaiah: what do you have there? Naomi: butter knife. Isaiah: for…what? You're not cooking. I am. Ollie: we are. Naomi: for..buttering things. Ollie: in your bedroom? Naomi backs away quickly Isaiah: .. there better be butter in that fridge. ~

Naomi: YALL ARE A NIGHTMARE!!!!!! Naomi runs up the stairs on all fours to go sulk in her room

B: SHES RIGHT. IM GONNA GO COMFORT THE BUGBEAR!!! B storms up after her in much the same way ~

Matt: okay kids! Sandwich dinner time! Naomi: i did TOO MUCH homework to be getting LOUSY SAMMIES for dinners!! Nat: YAH. Matt: OH~ SORRY IM NOT UNCLE OLLIE~!! ~

Nats at a play place in a childrens museum trying to draw at a station. One little insufferable boy keeps tugging her paper. Over and over. Nat keeps yelling at him to stop. Light and Dot are both there intensely watching her. His parents are nowhere to be seen. Maybe. Nat: stoop!!! Boy: ~stooop~ Nat: i mean it dude!! Boy: i don't care, your drawing sucks. Nat: ugh- She throws down her pencil and stands up. Nat: OH IF YOU WANT TO TALK TO SOMEONE WHY DONT YOU JUST GO VISIT YOUR DAD PICKING UP TRASH ON THE SIDE OF THE HIGHWAY WITH THE OTHER INMATES!?? Dot: oop-! Too real!! She scuttles over to disarm her kid

Naomi: Daddy up!!!! L: ok, nugget. He picks her up into his chair Naomi: I'm gonna be mommy now. L: haha, fine by me. Naomi reaches for the computer and points at it Naomi: aw shit! She pulls over a stack of documents and pretends to look through them. Naomi: Aw mother fucker! Oh, L, you idiot! Neenee you bastard you bought- you- you did all the spending for the whole three years! God damn it!! L: ….we need to have a talk with mommy about swearing.

Jules: take this biscuit. She drops toddler Naomi off at Nears side. Naomi: nee nee. Jules: she developed a new hobby and i don't admire that shit in my kitchen. Near: what….did she do? Jules: she took a bite out of every piece of produce on the counter. Every. Single. One.

~ Dot: baby, you have to slow down and breathe in and out. Nat: IIIIIIII DONTTT WAAAAAAANNNAAAAAA Near: I'll breathe with you, let's follow mommy. Dot: ok breathe in. Deeep. They both breath in. Dot: breathe outtttttt. They both breathe out. They do this a few more times. Naomi in another room: NAAAASUGII! Nat stops breathing Nat: HOL ON IM BREATHING HERE!! Nat goes back to her deep breathing Near starts giggling, ruining it.

~ Video of Mello pointing at a smudge on the wall. Interrogating Naomi. Mello: what is it? Naomi: ….. knowledge. Mello: knowledge?? Naomi: yeah cause i squished the bug. Mello: and all his knowledge came out? Naomi: it's sad. Mello: it is. Mello: stop slamming bugs on the wall.

~ Shows baby Naomi a picture of Mello Dot: who's that?? Naomi starts smiling and giggling uncontrollably. Dot: who is it?? Naomi screams in delight. Mello, in the distance: I've never felt more validated in my life. L: every day my approval becomes more and more like chopped liver to him.

~ Video of Mello standing in the doorway, 8 month old Naomi is outside and soaking wet, its been raining. Naomi, with gusto: ghgbgbyeeey byteeebyeeee ghggugugus ddaddbaba!!! Mello: I dont think so Naomi Gage, get in here. Naomi, more angry, arguing even harder: gagabgaasusbufusubuuuru!!!!! Mello: No means no, young lady, youre coming in before you catch your death. Naomi: NAANANANA lebeebesbsbe guggugddaaa!!!!! L, behind the camera: try this -he holds out his hand, theres a snickerdoodle cookie in it- L: Nooooddy, come inside and share a biscuit with daddy. Naomi, nodding: ba. -naomi walks in, ignoring mello-

~ Video of Naomi (1 ish) picking up her toys and aggressively explaining them to Near Naomi: gughghgd babaaab gagaaaa huhuhbuuububu bbb!! Near: ….okay.. -Naomi tosses that one down and picks up another- Naomi: BABABABABABABA aababagsgugugu gugugugugbebemmmmmmmba! Near: ………………. Dot, filming: oh lord we gon' have our hands real full… -Dot holds up the positive pregnancy test that no ones seen yet- Naomi: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAABABABABAB GUGUGUGUGUGSSSSAAAAAAAAA Near: I get it, Naomi. i get it -Naomi takes a step closer and shakes the train in her hand- Naomi: AAABABA bublblblblblbblblblbblblbllll!!!!! Naomi: MAMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Dot: wha? Naomi: AAABABABABABABABABAB! She's waving the train Dot: yeah it is! Naomi: ( : !

~ Video of Baby Nat proudly sitting on top of an overturned plastic tub. muffled sounds in tub B: Natsuki Nat: ba? B: get off the tub. Nat: waaaa?? B: whats in the tub? Naomi, muffled: Get off, Stinksuki!! Nat: uhh gggbhbg. B: is that your big sister? Nat: noh. B: well get off the tub and let me see. Naomi: Im loosing air you big jerk! -Nat crawls off the tub and Naomi immediately bursts out- Naomi, 3: She twied to Kill ME!!! B: eh it runs in the family

~ Nat, 5 months. Sitting in Matt's lap. Matt, pointing: are you gonna smile at NeeNee? Matt: is she smiling? Near: yes she is. Hello Natsuki. Nat: Baaa!! Matt, pointing again: smile at Uncle B? B gives her a crazy grin back. Matt points once more: smile at papa? Nat wriggles. Light: what? No smile for your father? Nat: bbbbb noh. Everyone: HER FIRST WORD!!! ~

video of Nat, 3, outside and holding a stick Nat: is this a bug? Dot: no. Its a stick. Nat: hm. Dot: its a stick bug!! -nat drops the stick like mid sentence- Nat: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Video of Natsuki's first steps -She takes two shaky steps towards Ryuk and then falls and starts crying.- Ryuk: that didnt hurt, i know that didnt. stop crying. Ollie: shes crying because shes upset that she couldnt walk up to you on her own. Ryuk: :0 Ryuk: oh, it's ok Natsuki. -Ryuk picks her up and slings her over his shoulder like she likes- Nat: bbbbbbbbbrrrrr Ryuk: she weirds me out sometimes… Ollie: humans are weird. Jules, filming this: fuck we cant show Grandma Yagami this one. Light: NO I NEED A VIDEO TO SHOW MOM AND SAYU, WE HAVE TO STAGE A NEW ONE

Dot: Yeah. they came out of me She points at her kids Naomi: I WAS IN HER POCKET

Natsuki, 3, in the car. Nat: I will get a biscuit. Wight. Now. This. Minnite. Ollie: how about you ask for one. Nat: a. Biscuit. Now. Ollie: no, you gotta ask and say please too. Nat: I can get a biscuit, peas. Nat, quieter: wight now.

- A series of short videos consisting of Naomi and Natsuki throwing a slice of cheese on an unsuspecting family member

Eventually Jules joins their fun with them. She was never cheesed.

Starts with them throwing a slice on a quietly snoring Light. Hes spooked awake and stares at them with rage.

Cuts to them throwing one on Near from behind. He dosent react, he just picks the slice out of his hair and starts pulling off pieces to pop in his mouth.

Cuts to them throwing the slice on Dot as she walks into the room. Dot: -SHRIEK- Dot: oh hey, is this muenster? score.

Cuts to them throwing a slice on Mello, slapping it right over his scar. Mello flinches, looks at the girls (Now featuring Jules!) and deadpan goes Mello: am i pretty now?

Cuts to them throwing a slice onto L from behind but they miss his head and slam his back audibly L: -Shrieks and jumps- Light, barreling for them: WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT THROWING CHEESE AND SURPRISE ATTACKING YOUR FATHER!? The gals: -Shrieks- L, softly in the background: oh, cheese.

Cuts to video of them walking up to Matt as he gets out of his car and slapping the cheese over his goggles Matt: -shrieks- Matt: oh hey, muenster. Score.

Cuts to them throwing a slice on Ollie while hes standing at the kitchen counter distracted. He effortlessly slaps the cheese away before it even hits him. Girls: HOW?

Cuts to them throwing a slice on an unsuspecting B who immediately turns around and SLAMS it back onto Naomi's face.

Nat, 5 ish. Sliding down a slide on a wet autumn day Nat dismounts Nat: woh. Light: what is it? Nat: my bum jus got all wet. Nat stands and stares a little awkwardly, reaches back and wipes leaves off her butt, and then skitters off Dot: …………… Light: ………………. Dot, whispering aggressively: the ultimate fusion of meee and youuuuuuuu

Ollie takes a pic of the fam sitting on the couch after taking Nat home from the hospital. Naomi in L's lap. L clearly with red all around his eyes from crying. Nat is swaddled in Light's arms. Dot in the middle pointing at both kids. Ollie: saaay uhhh. Near behind him: death of the american dream. Ollie: no, say siblinghood Them: Siblinghood! Naomi: Iiiblin!!

Video of Near holding baby Nat in the garage. Nats screaming with delight while Mello repeatedly revs his motorcycle's engine. Near: this is hell on my ears but it's doing wonders for my heart. Nat: AAAAA! AAAHAHAHEHEHEHEHE!!!

Naomi, 10: UNCLE NEE LOOK AT THIS SHIRT WE FOUND AT THE MALL Near shuffles up to read the girls matching shirts It says "love is always near" Near: i- may cry a little. Nat, 8: do it.

Naomi, 1 ish and sitting on the counter in the kitchen Mr. W: are you filming? L: yeah. Mr. W: hands out, please Mr. W pops a raspberry on a finger. and proceeds to do that with all the rest on that hand Mr. W: and there is, what my Nan used to call, "The bum handimans fingers" -Naomi opens wide and pops one in her mouth- L: that sounds unsavory Mr.W: i never said my Nan was a refined lady.

Near: hello Odette, would you like to see why I don't like being in charge of the kids? -Dot turns around- Dot: huh? Near, in a tee-shirt, holding up his pj shirt to show Dot the damage. Dot: ah. Near: your's and L's crotch dumpling intentionally, and quite gently may I add- Dot: got spaghetti on you… Near, gritting teeth: -pushed the bowl against my back while I was turned away Dot: you didn't try to watch her do her spaghetti slurpini. That's why she did that.

-distant sound of a recorder playing "Hot Crossed Buns"- Dot: ohh Noddy youre practicing and i didnt even have to ask! Naomi turns around to reveal shes playing it through her nostril Dot: why can't you do anything normal? Naomi: Because im your daughter, BAyBEE! Dot: i can respect that Naomi goes back to playing via nose

Mello taking a selfie video while laying down. 3 year old Naomi is lightly tracing his burn scars with her finger. Mello, to the camera: hey Nods, I thought we were napping. Naomi, sleepily: I gotta touch the bumps. Mello: you gotta touch the bumps? Why? Naomi: cos I love them. Mello somewhat starts cracking up and tearing up at the same time and he frantically ends the video there

Mello: i can count on one hand how many times ive cried. Matt: no you cant Mello: every time was for either my momma or for L Matt: bullshit Mello: i, however, have absolutely lost count of the amount of times Naomi has made me cry this week Naomi: is ok lello is okaaay!! Mello: you want up? Naomi: is ok lello i make it bettur -Mello picks her up- Naomi: you gonna b okay, misturr Mello, tearing up: ah here i go again

PawPaw with a giant wad of bills in one hand and Baby Naomi resting in the nook of the other. He hands the money to Naomi. Isaiah: here's your allowance. Dot: Professor Dad, She's one. Isaiah: yeah? And she's my granddaughter. Isaiah: Here's your allowance, baby

Mello: oh no why's Nat crying today? Naomi, trudging out of Wammys with a weepy Nat in tow Nat: MY NuH NoH AAAAADDAAA Naomi: hhhh her substitute teacher kept hearing everyone call her Nat and she kept calling her "Natalie" all day long Mello: ohhhh. Hey Nat, Nat: HUUUWAaaa muh muhh meeewwooooo -Mello crouches down and picks the poor little thing up- Mello: all my teachers kept on calling me "Michael" when i went here. Nat: aaaaahaaaa---mmmmmm Mello: isnt that silly? we have the same problem. Nat, calming down: hehe

Naomi to L: Papa wouldnt let me be you for halloween. L: oh no thats terrible. Naomi: Cause Nat wanted to be Kira. L: ohh…no thats terrible. Naomi: so.. can you be you and Papa be Kira for halloween, pleeeas? L: no. Naomi: bu- L: No. its my birthday. I will be a vampire again end of story.

1st time trick or treating with Naomi and newbie Nat Naomi in a grim reaper costume. Nats… in a sling and Ollies carrying her Neighbor: ohh hello! Are you here for candy little reaper? Naomi: uh. Trikkortreat! Neighbor: here you go little reaper. Naomi: thank you -naomi starts walking off- -Naomi turns right back around- Naomi: Hey- didju know um. Is my daddys birthday? Neighbor: Oh? well. Naomi: he- hes the vampire! Neighbor squinting at L who is meekly waving Neighbor: Happy birthday Mr. Vampire! L, barely audible to her: Thank you Madame! Beyond: ITS THEIR WEDDING ANNIVERSARY TOO!

Naomi: WAAAAAhaaha- SHE ATE MY CAKE. Mello: she ate your cake? i didnt get you two any cake out of the fridge. Naomi: Sh- SHE ATE -cough- MY IMAGINARY CAKE N CAUS I-T ITS MY PLAY BIRTHDAY WAAAAA SHE ATE ALL IT Mello: hhhh… Mello walks into Nat hiding in another room Mello: Nat, did you eat Noddy's cake Nat: no i dinnit is in ma haand. Mello: the imaginary cake is still in your hand? Naomi: SHE. ATE. IT. ALL. Mello: ok go give it back to Nods, shes very sad you took it. Nat: is.. ok. iss imma hand see? Mello: yes i see it, lets go back and make things right. Nat: Okie lello, Noddie is ok is in mah hand still i got cake for you!

Baby naomi in her walker toddles into the kitchen while Ollie's cooking. Naomi: Guh. Near, on the counter doing jack shit: Guh! Naomi: nn guh. guh guh bububububuh bbbbb Naomi walks out like they just had a good talk Near: she has things to do, Ollie. So cook faster.

Naomi, barely able to talk: daddy birdy ..-inaudible- oh heeahd signs for poop and head Dot: a bird pooped on dads head on your walk? namoi nods solemly Dot: oh thats terrible im so sorry for daddy. Dot pans camera over to L, hanging up his coat and shaking his head, clearly no bird poo on him Dot: oh no thats terrible, daddy. im sorry.

Ollie: you can't make Nat open your present, Nods! Naomi: yes I can! Ollie: Nooo! Just because it's not Natsuki's Christmas gifts it doesn't mean you won't get in trouble for using Nat to ruin your surprise! Naomi: yeah buh daddy said- daddy.. he said if I open my present early it turns to underwear. Ollie: oh he did? Naomi: so.. so if you open yours it's not a toy anymore but if .. if uhh if you get your sister to open it it won't turn to nothing cause sh- cause Natsuki isn't me so the gift stays a good one! Ollie: so you think you found a loophole? Naomi: yes. Ollie: fair enough. Go tell your Dad, he'll be so pissed that he didn't see that.

Dot: when you give a mouse a cookie… Naomi: he chokes on it and dies. She shoves the toy she was chewing on back in her mouth

Nat sitting on Ollie's lap as usual Light: ok Nat, tell me again for the camera.. why do you think youre growing body hair? Nat: cos… i give Ollie too many hugs. Nat flops her body down onto Ollie in a big hug. Ollie: 🥺 💕

And my all time favorite:

Mello: look, look, Nat there's a lady bug on the walkway. Nat: a ladeebog? Nat toddles up and stomps on it several times Nat: buh byeee. Near: buh bye bug. Mello: tch- you're surely your dad's daughter.

And uh. wow you read all this? thenks

#OhDearDotty

0 notes

curly-bangtan · 4 years

Text

Heatwave Anniversary Drabble: i miss u like ... a lot (M)

[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles] <- read first! but this drabble can be read alone

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: One night until Taehyung is back from his boys’ trip but you miss him too much.

Genre: fluff, smut, kinda crack?, boyfriend/established relationship au

Warnings: unprotected sex (oc on contraception so don’t u do it), teasing over the phone, riding and grinding, just kinda vanilla i-missed-u-so-much sex, a particular selca

Word count: 5k

A/N: It was Heatwave’s one year anniversay on the 17th so I decided to write a quick(?) drabble for this. I fully intended on posting this on time, but wanted to change up some stuff so only managed to finish this now. Happy birthday to my first fic and forver my baby!

MOSTLY UNEDITED

The absolute one thing you hate most about your boyfriend being away from you is your boyfriend being away from you.

You have never been the clingy needy type, that is more his role in this relationship, nor are you really one to show affection. In fact, you would hate for that false image to be perceived of you because all that sappy shit makes you want to throw up your dinner. But one thing you’ve learnt since Taehyung had gone away on a week-long boys’ trip down by the coast is how cold the house feels in his absence, despite being in the middle of a sizzling summer.

Everything is so eerily quiet without his random outbursts into song and fits of laughter. Having spent 3 years living together, you have gotten so used to his constant presence that you had even caught yourself several times calling out for him only to remember that he isn’t here. Waking up without his arm draped around your waist, slided up your top at some point during the night, impacts you more than you’d like to admit.

Are you glad that he’s having a great time with his friends by the beach, relaxing all day and drinking all night? Of course. Are you having a great time all by yourself over here in the absence of your boyfriend? Certainly not.

Though, of course, this isn’t something you would confess to out loud, especially to him. He doesn’t need to know how often the thought: ugh fuck, I miss Tete is crossing your mind, lest you want him to rub his smugness in your face.

It isn’t just that. Your relationship hasn’t been without its tests in the course of its years and things have only finally stabilised. It’s not that you don’t trust Taehyung to be with his ladish friends for seven days, shirtless dusk till dawn, intoxicated to the point where he calls you thinking that you’re the pizza delivery guy but…

A hammered Taehyung at a beach full of girls who are no doubt thirsting over him leaves a bad taste in your mouth. You trust him to be loyal to his core, but you don’t trust anyone else to keep their hands from copping a feel. No matter how you look at it, you would just so much rather he be at home with you right now.

You have endured this for six days. Six full days without Taehyung. Six full days with no sex, no tummy kisses, no clammy hand holding even though you’re only to get groceries. Just one more night and this torture will fucking be over, praise the lord. But you also don’t know how much more you can hold back that I miss you text because you’re combusting from the need to see him again.

It’s almost 4am. Your sleep schedule is fucked and it’s really his fault.

The bright screen of your phone offers the only luminescence at this hour. Your messages from him in the past week have not been shy of your daily dose of Taehyung - clips of the beach (always mischievously caption with something along the lines of “thinking of Mykonos ;D” where you went on your first holiday together), selfies that you dwell way too long staring at because you miss that face buried in your neck, drunk videos of the antics him and the boys get up to that you’ll definitely chastise him for when he comes back yet can’t help but laugh at. You find yourself scrolling through them every single night.

Your personal favourite: a pouty selfie he sent you after he dropped his ice cream, the picture you always go back to and the one you’re staring at right now. His hair is frizzy from the sea, lips jutted out childishly and cheeks puffy. Your chest constricts, fuck...

Just one more night, you remind yourself. And then he’s back and all yours again.

Then suddenly, the phone in your hand vibrates, short and abrupt. The bar slides down from the top of your screen reading New Message from Tete. Surprised, you scramble to open it, maybe a bit too desperately for you to be proud of.

04:11

Tete: bby

You blink at those three letters, lips pressed together because your heart is cinching.

Tete: ur prob aslep rn but

Tete: i missu

Tete: <334

The typos indicate that he is wasted, and you take a guess that he has just returned from their last night out of the holiday. The corners of your lips turn up knowing that he is thinking of you right now.

You: no im awake

Your fingers are itching to reply with i miss u too, and it takes all your willpower and stubbornness to stay true to your steadfast self. There is just something so unpleasantly moist about these kinds of texts, something that makes you cringe and gag when you read them. You refuse to be one of those people. A heart is all that you allow yourself to reply.

You: <3

You: r u drunk?

Tete: drunk in love

Tete: yes

A giggle escapes you at his god awful cheesiness - drunk, sober alike. Insufferable. But probably Taehyung’s most endearing quality.

You: did u have fun!!

Tete: yeah

Tete: but i miss u

Tete: more than i had fun

God, you feel like a teenager again, suddenly overcome with this gushing urge to roll over and scream into your pillow. You’re glad he’s merely texting this to you right now because if he had said this to you face to face, your skin would most definitely stain scarlet from neck to hairline, scalding to the touch. Even months into officially being his girlfriend, these curveballs of overwhelming affection throw you off guard.

Again, the compulsion to tell him you miss him too yanks at your heartstrings. You truly don’t understand why it’s so hard for you to say how you feel, let yourself be soft and vulnerable. You know it’s one of your flaws so it’s something that you’re working on, but you can’t say you’ve made much progress.

But just as you decide that maybe you should take the plunge, suck it up and just text him those three words, he sends you a picture.

Tete:

No, not just a picture. A selfie, of him in bed, shirtless under the covers. “Oh, fuck…”

Hand clasped over your mouth to prevent any sound from involuntarily escaping, it takes a moment for your breath to return to you and for you to stop gawking. At this hour… Really? Is he seriously doing this to you right now?

His sleepy eyes. His messy curls. And his fucking nose mole.

The undoing of your existence.

Tete: this boy misses u :]

You: bruh

You: bruhhhhhhh

You: taehyung

Tete: oui my lady :))

You: 👁👄👁

You: can u not do this to my heart

You: y did u send me this </333

You: what was the reason

Tete: coz i miss u

Tete: do u like it

Tete: :D

‘Do u like it’... Actually, you have tears in your eyes, albeit mostly due to staring at a screen for too long so late at night, but it’s certainly contributed by this selfie. You tell yourself you’re acting out because it’s been six days since you last saw him. Perhaps Taehyung Withdrawal Symptoms is the explanation behind why you want to print and frame this picture because that is definitely not a normal reaction to a picture. But this is a masterpiece.

You: taehyung my soul left my body

You: like i could weep

You: u look so soft and fluffy

You: :’(

Tete: lollll

Tete: simp

This boy has some nerve?! Simp! He called you a simp?! Laughing like a maniac, you can’t even pretend to be mad at him, not after this picture he sent anyway. So you guess you are a simp. This selfie is your kryptonite.

Tete: jkjkkkkk

You: hahahaha

You: y r u doing this to me

You: its 4am

You: u can’t send me this rn

You: i won’t be able to sleep

Tete: o yeah how come ur still up?

Tete: go to sleepppp

You: can’t sleep

Tete: aw no whyyy

Because you miss him that’s why.

You miss Kim Taehyung. You miss Tete. You miss your boyfriend, your best friend, your other half. You miss his touch, his smile, his wide eyes when he’s confused. You miss his morning snuggles and late night kisses. You miss the way he hugs you from behind as you prepare your meals. You miss the wandering hands that he can’t help when you’re out in public. You miss playing PUBG together until the sun comes out then both sleeping past noon. You miss taking baths together where bubbles would get into your mouth as your kisses get heated.

You just miss him.

It’s only been six days and you’re in this state. What has he done to you?

Fingers hovering over the keyboard, you let out a great sigh and deflate. No other reason offers itself for you to be awake at this hour; he knows you cherish sleep above anything. Teeth digging into your lip, you inhale long and hard, then exhale the gust of your cowardice. It’s not that deep, stupid. Fuck it.

You: coz

You: i miss u

You: like … a lot

You: 🙄

It’s final - you guess you’ve become a mushy wet sap. Truly it is embarrassing how big of a step this is for you; but the sense of pride and accomplishment feels oddly validating. Baby steps. The eye-rolling emoji right after is subconscious because you could only betray the core of your character that much. Forgo it and taehyung might not believe that it’s you.

Tete: omg

Tete: :D

Tete: rrly?

You: *blank kissy emoji*

Tete: wow

Tete: u actually don’t know how hard i’m smiling rn

You: simp

Tete: ofc that’s my middle name

Tete: i miss u a lot too

Tete: like a lotttttt

Tete: i’ll show u how much when i’m back

Ah… Of course, the Taehyung specialty - smothering you with his affection. You freeze at the thought of his wildfire kisses and head between your thighs. Nothing screams of how much you’ve missed each other more than a good dicking down, climax after climax until you’re both panting messes of sweat and entangled limbs. The anticipation makes you squirm under the sheets, legs pressing together.

You: pls do

You: i need u

It’s uncertain what spirit has possessed you at this ungodly hour for these words to come out of you. There’s an instant flash of ickiness, but you let the self-cringing simmer and dissipate into the realisation that this is okay, this is normal. Taehyung’s your boyfriend, couples text like this. You need to grow some.

Tete: fuck baby

Tete: i’m so not used to u texting like this, it's driving me crazy

You: crazy how *cat smirk*

If you weren’t smiling before, you’re definitely grinning like an idiot now. His reaction is predictable, yet oddly still, an incredible wave of satisfaction hits you. And because you want to savour this moment, maybe give him a taste of his own medicine, you send him a picture of yourself.

Camisole strap slid off your shoulder, hair splayed out, bottom lip deep red from biting down on it too much. Just to return the favour.

Tete: y/n

Tete: call me now

-Incoming call from Tete-

Laughing to yourself, you wait a good few seconds before picking up to prolong his torture. “Yes, Taehyung?” You put your thumb between your teeth to suppress the laughter.

“Fuck.” Against the silence of the night, the low rasp of his voice permeating into you from the speaker of your phone sends tingles up your toes. You’ve fucking missed his voice more than you thought. “Y/N… You can’t do this to me.”

“I told you, I miss you. Like… a lot.” The saccharine tone in your reply is foreign to your own ears, but you like the sound of it and the deep rumble it elicits from your boyfriend.

“How much?” Taehyung eggs you on. His words are barely slurred, so you gather that he has sobered up at least for the most part by now. Yet there is still a slowness to it that suggests

“Hmm, like… I touched myself every night at the thought of you a lot.”

A sharp inhale. Then silence. But you know better so you give him a moment to gather himself.

“You shouldn’t be putting that image in my head.” Exasperation is evident in his voice, desperate and yearning. You can imagine him now, one hand on his phone, the other sliding over his pants that are getting a bit too tight for comfort. Your breath hitches.

“Then you shouldn’t have sent me that picture, Taehyung…”

“You said it was soft and fluffy. What you sent me back was not soft and fluffy.”

“Just because it’s soft doesn’t mean it doesn’t turn me on. You do things to me… okay?” Heat trapped beneath the skin of your cheeks, your grip on the phone against your ear slackening as your thighs rub together.

“Fuck, I’m getting hard, baby…” Nothing gets him going more than the knowledge that he turns you on, it’s his weakness but somewhat his strength.

“That’s… unfortunate. Are you going to do something about it?”

His gulp is audible even over the phone. “Uh…” A sigh. “Um. Maybe. Thoughts are being thought.”

“What kind of thoughts? Thoughts about me touching myself and moaning your name? Thoughts about how much I wish my fingers were your cock thrusting so deep into me that I feel it in my guts? Or are you thinking about what you’ll do to me when you’re back tomorrow? Fucking my mouth until I’m crying or filling me up with your cum first?” Your hips buckle at the filth leaving your mouth. This is more like you; you haven’t abandoned your nature after all.

“Oh, fuckkkk.” His moan resonates into your skull, not quite as if he’s here with you but good enough to fill your desire. “Y/N… I need you so badly.” Breath ragged, you hear movement of his sheets in the background as he adjusts into a more comfortable position.

“Are you stroking your cock right now?” A warm slick oozes out of your own entrance. There’s something about Taehyung masturbating to you that elevates you to a different kind of high.

“What do you think, baby?” As you listen closely, you hear the slow rhythm of his pumping, and your fingers ache to pleasure yourself. ‘The things I’ll fucking do to you when I’m back.”

“Mmm, but it’s late, Taehyung, why don’t we go to sleep.”

“Wait, what?” The stroking stops instantly and surprise in his voice releases a smug satisfaction into your veins. The equivalent of pouring a bucket of ice water over his head right now. Teasing is an old undying habit, what can you say? “You wanna end the call now?”

“Yeah, we should sleep, babe.” Grin unsuppressed, you turn over onto your side, probably a bit too pleased with yourself at your success. Taehyung is an easy victim always.

“What the fuckkk?” Your boyfriend groans. “You’re seriously going to tease me this hard then leave me high and dry?” When you offer no more response than a sly chuckle, he add, “You’re so evil.”

“Save it for tomorrow, Taehyung. Think about it, we’re one sleep away from seeing each other again.”

“Fuck, I know. But you just got me so fucking horny, bruhhh. I thought we were gonna have phone sex.” You are still laughing at his whining, basking in the victory you’re holding over him.

“Taehyung, save it for the real sex.” The idea of phone sex crossed your mind several times to be honest, but you really want to collect every single drop of desire and longing and unleash it tomorrow. Raw and pent up. Nothing to dampen the fire.

A sigh of defeat down the line. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know?” You know. “How am I supposed to sleep now though? I’m so rock hard that it hurts.”

“You can figure that out yourself, big guy.” Your cheeks ache from smiling for too long; they often do during calls with him. “One sleep away, okay?”

“Ugh, fine, you demon. I can’t believe you sometimes.” He lets out another sigh. Your heart skips at the anticipation of how he will punish you for this. “Good night, I miss you.”

“Good night, I miss you more.” There’s a sudden change of tone with these words. Because you truly mean it. Sex and physical intimacy aside, you really just missed his voice, his banter.

You fall asleep almost immediately.

You don’t think you’ve heard a sweeter sound than the keys rattling at the door the next day. Practically leaping off the couch where you had been awaiting him in your Taeyhyung-less boredom, you run to the door.

As it swings open, heat courses to your chest when your eyes land on his, so full of comfort. Your boyfriend is home. Handsome as ever, much more tanned than your memory of him and much more attractive. White t-shirt and loose black shorts, a mundane outfit that only he could make look exceptional.

And as much as you want to sprint up and throw yourself onto him, your feet stay planted on the floor.

“Hey.” You barely breathe out.

Stay calm and composed, you tell yourself. It was only one week without him, it’s not like he’s returning from war.

But Taehyung doesn’t even reply, because in two long strides he is standing before you, bags tossed to the side, a sign of their insignificance in the presence of you. His arms find their home circled around you, face buried in your hair before you can utter another word. You don’t hesitate to return his embrace, holding his waist as you let yourself fall into his chest. He smells like what summer should, the ocean, sweat and young love; his familiar musk greeting you as if he never left.

Your lips meet his, strong and full of intent. He’s so unexpectedly soft when he kisses back, a timeless romantic dance like he is saviour your taste on his tongue.

With your weight leaning on him, he slowly topples back, stepping hastily until your bodies land on the couch. You fit your legs on either side of him as you burrow your nose in his neck and breathe him in, memorise him. In nothing but a large shirt, your bare thighs are exposed for his roaming.

When you pull away and face each other, you are struck by his beauty. His skin is sun-kissed and glowing, hair an effortlessly beautiful mess, the slightest hint of a stubble peeking through below his nose. Your heart belongs to him forever, you know it without a doubt.

“You smell so good. I missed you so much, baby.” And his voice… That deep baritone honey that you have taken for granted all this time - music to your ears.

“Imissedyoutoo…” You mumble, shy under his undivided attention and mercilessly unbroken eye contact.

With your chests pressed together, his chuckle rumbles into you. “What was that?”

“I missed you too… I guess.” Face flaming, you can’t bring yourself to meet his eye at your admittance, fingers twirling around his curls to preoccupy yourself.

But he cups your chin and turns your face to him, forehead pressing up to yours until your noses are touching, breaths mixing. “That’s not what you said last night.” Taehyung smirks, hands sliding down to your waist, the material of your shirt bunching up in his hands. “Do I need to remind you?”

“No…” You find yourself unable to keep your eyes open, your core pulsing mercilessly as you grind onto him. “How are you already hard, Taehyung…” And though you mean to scold him, it comes out breathless.

Lips hovering, he traces the edge of your jaw, tingling the sensitive little hairs on its way to your ear. When he reaches the shell of your ear, warm breath infiltrating so relentlessly into you, you almost lose yourself right there on his lap. “Don’t you know how much I love you?” He whispers.

“Show me.” Is all you make out.

His hands are already beneath your shirt before you even notice, palms kneading into your breasts as he takes your nipples between his two fingers and rolls. As he kisses you again, the same tenderness exchanges between your lips. It’s a different kind of desperation to be so slow and gentle, one that means so much more than sex, one that’s telling of how much you truly missed each other. Your hips roll with a mind of their own over him. One hand of his comes down to your ass, guiding the waves of your rocking. And each time his stiff clothed member digs into your clit, you whimper into his mouth.

Carefully, Taehyung rolls you over onto your back, sucking your bottom lip to keep the seal from breaking. He pulls away when he’s on top of you, and a string of glistening saliva bridges between your mouths. “Foreplay or no? Tell me what you want?” Compliant as ever.

“I need you to fill me up right now. Anything else can wait.” You watch the devotion ignite in his eyes. His fingers are in a hurry as they pull your panties off, knees spreading your legs open as he kneels between your gaping entrance. He tugs his shirt off from the collar, such smoothness in his action that your insides coil up. His newly-bronzed rich skin revealed, you can’t help but reach up and run your hands down from chest to navel, revelling in his blemishless ridges.

A low sound reverberates from the back of Taehyung’s throat as your touch travels down to unbutton his shorts. They fall loose. His hard throbbing members springs free, a glistening bead oozing from his slit. “You didn’t wear boxers?”

When you glance up, you notice his sheepish grin. He presses his mouth onto yours, still smiling, guiding you back onto your back. “I just couldn’t wait.” Taehyung whispers. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, especially since last night… Ah, fuck.” Another deep groan erupts from him as you reach down and slather that bead of precum all over his tip. His head falls onto your neck, writhing under your merciless stroking.

His tip brushing against your clit, your toes curls at the teasing of your weakness, hips jolting up involuntarily and perhaps a bit too violently. You’re so embarrassingly sensitive after this many days without Taehyung, and he notices from your breathless reaction. Smirking, he takes his shaft in his hand and runs his stiff head over your clit mercilessly. And as you roll your head back helplessly, he nibbles onto your exposed neck, faint stubble grazing your skin.

“Quit the teasing…” You whine, unable to withstand the build up of twisting pressure begging to be fulfilled between your legs. “Just put-”

Taehyung pushes himself into you so abruptly that you yelp. And there it is, that mind-melting stretch of your walls that you’ve so much missed. “Fuck, Taehyung…” Your entire core feels ablaze, so numbing that your nails dig into the leather of the couch before they find grip on his arms.

“Like that, baby?” His voice his strained, as if he’s struggling not to lose his mind as well.

Nodding because you can’t make out a word as he slowly pulls out, you grab his face and pull him up to meet your lips. You whimper into him mouth when he rams into you again, hitting your walls in full force, no mercy. His kiss doesn’t lose its sincerity despite the juxtaposition of his vigorous thrusts, though you can’t say that he is quite as gentle with as before. You pinch his bottom lip between your teeth, sucking on it as your fingers get lost in his hair.

After seven days of deprevation of his cock, your cunt is leaking with the fluid of your arousal, aiding in the ease of each plunge. You feel the stiffness of his ridges pulling you open as he slides in and out of you. “Fuck…” He pants, mouth hovering over yours.

“Let me get on top.” Taehyung’s eyes flash at your suggestion, instantly rolling onto his back. He slips out during the switch of position and the wetness of your cunt is assailed by a sudden rush of cool air.

You swing your leg over and mount him, watching him watch you pump his dick, your own liquid slathered over him sticky in your hand. Letting his member fall against his abdomen, you grind over him between your folds, hands splayed out over his chest. The friction created each time your clit would slide over the thin pinch of skin where his tip unfolded into his shaft has Taehyung a groaning mess.

He looks remarkable under you.

You push his sweat-dampened curls out of his forehead, eyes half closed in euphoria, half watching you roll your cunt so lewdly over his length. You know you could make him cum like this if you continue. But you want him to cum inside you first, you want to feel that thick hot spurt of his desire shoot again and again into you until his cock is twitching.

So slowly, lubricated by your wetness, you sink inch by inch down until the skin of your ass meets his thighs. This angle fuck with your mind; you think you feel him at your cervix. Then your hips start to do what they know best, pounding over him with a rhythm that you’re proud of.

Taehyung grabs hold of your waist, your breasts, fury in his eyes as he watches you ride him with such determination. “I love you so much.” He heaves between heavy breaths.

“I love you, I missed you more than you could imagine.” You huff, thumb running over his red swollen lips.

“I love when you admit it.” He sits up and takes the swell of your breast in his mouth, making his way to your nipples where his tongue relentlessly flickers over.

Your thighs are starting to burn, core aching because his cock is thrusting up into you so deep that you feel it in your guts. The signs are appearing - your vision is going hazy, walls squeezing tightly around him, tangle upon tangles knoting in your stomach. His are too - his head is slumped against your chest, arms crossed behind your back as he holds you close to him, whole body starting to tense as he begins to curse.

Pace quickening, you don’t let the tire of your muscles stop you from your chase. The slap of your skins ringing in your ears, you keep riding, cunt swallowing his cock whole each bounce. Taehyung breaks first. “Fuck!” He calls out into your neck. His cum squirts into you, pulse after pulse, your boyfriend’s hips jolting each thrust.

“I’m so close, babe, keep going for me.” You plead, knowing how sensitive he is right after his climax. He nods wordlessly, face still buried in you hair. The lubrication of his cum abolishes any resistance, letting you slide over him easier than sitting down. And not five thrusts later, your own coil snaps. You through your head back at the wave of pleasure that drowns you, your entire core on fire as your moans echo through the room. It takes maybe twenty seconds for your walls to stop throbbing and for the orgasm to slowly die down.

Taehyung is already growing limp inside you after his orgasm. “Thank you.” You whisper against his forehead while you dismount. His cum flows out of your slit and down the insides of your thighs, but he refuses to let go of you.

When he looks up, you are struck by an overwhelming sensationf of adoration. His long dark curls fall slightly over his eyes, in disarray but just the way you like it. His eyes are so full of genuine love and gratitude of having you that you can’t help but capture him with your lips. “No, thank you.” He mumbles against you, falling back onto the couch with you in his embrace.

After a long kiss of after-sex affection, you pull away before it leads to a second round. “I want you to know that I really missed you a lot. I can’t even call you a big baby anymore because I stared at all the pictures you sent me every night till the sun came out.”

Taehyung’s boyish smile melts your heart. You’ve missed him way too much. His smile, his goofy comments, his tender kisses. “My heart… is squeezing…” If his smile doesn’t tell how smitten he is, his eyes definitely do. “I missed you so much too. All the boys made fun of me for being such a wettie ‘coz I couldn’t shut up about you.” The thought is so endearing that you can’t help but hide your face.

“So how was your trip? Plenty of hot girls drooling after you?” Trick question of course, you know that for a fact already.

“Haha, it was good, fun. Bet you couldn’t sleep ‘coz you were trembling from jealousy.” Scoffing you land a smack on his chest. “But nah, no hot girls. Nowadays there’s only one hot girl in my eyes.”

Your own lips spread like a cheshire cat. “Shut up, cutie.”

“Rachel McAdams.”

“Let go of me. Don’t even touch me.”

A/N: Moral of the story, never sit on their couch if you’re a guest at the Heatwave house.

24/08/20

@taexxxiiaa @shookpreme @taetaeobsessed @tangledsparkles @nonexistentfucks @evilkookie @nbiased95 @shimtatae @taehyungmakesmeoof @itscalledgayhoney @tahaing @yes-another-wannabe-hipster-blog @deliciouslydisturbed365 @getmemyfries @expensive-bangtan-girl @jwlmnbt @herakimkim @dnyad @kaepjjang365 @angelswrld @expensive-bangtan-girl @icyi-sky @gingerpeachtae @spring2787 @monixreal @askingtheimportantthingshere @casualminiaturetimemachine @xblackclover13x @vasysauce @deadinsidebitch2412 @emiyooa @i-dont-even-know-fck @chimycthulhu @gixanjos @hisunshiine @xtaeyi @softjellyjimin @bluemooncnblue @malfeitofeitto @bangtanfancamp @keopitae @out-of-jams @camilaxpolanco @d-noona @haechanspudu @dawnispeace @vante-visuals @liquanzhe222 @bangtanloverrrrr @bs14401 @seokjoontae @comingjimin @jeonsshadow @honeyspillings @taeshotteok @embrace-themagic @wataemelonz @ftvante @kth-jae @sintatae @lunarnovaa @reputae @imajinative @haosmull8 @sssaltyasian @brilliantlybasicb @devilsadvocater @ladyartemesia @btsglitter @besosalvolar @jayparkjustchokeme @johnnyseotolemyheart @bubblegumyuss @octo-donut @ftvante @gia-the-mermaid @miss-peys @fantasticallyabnormal @purplestar00paintblotch @taetaeismybaebae @jooachu @bringitseijoh @bboyseventeenn @lpayne612 @misohime @petuliii @slutdropjin @kyelamarie

1K notes · View notes

princess-of-the-corner · 4 years

Note

Lila trying convince people Mari works for Hawkmoth "Ladybug told me she refuses to give Mari a miraculous, I think we need to question why she thinks Mari would be a bad holder" and immediately after that Mari is outed as Multimouse

I uh. I got carried away answering this one.

“Hey,” Alya said, leaning over the desk. “Since you’re friends with Ladybug, you have influence on who she chooses to be new Heroes, right?”

“She does take my choices into account,” Lila grinned. “I can’t tell you who anyone is though! Of course, we must uphold secret identities!”

The implication was lost on Alya. But not Adrien. Perhaps he should encourage this line of discussion. Maybe Lila would ‘confess’ to being the Fox Hero. That’d really be some ‘proof’.

“I know,” Alya said. “But… I know you haven’t gotten along, but maybe you could suggest Marinette?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Lila frowned.

“Again, I know you two don’t get along well,” she said. “But I think that offering an olive branch like that might help you two, you know. Bury the hatchet and all that.”

“I-it’s not that I don’t want to,” she sighed. “I’ve actually tried, with that exact idea in mind! But… Ladybug doesn’t think it’s a good idea.”

“How is it not a good idea?” she wondered. “Mari’s… Mari. The only non-heroic quality she has is her clumsiness! And Ladybug let Chloé be a Hero!”

“I heard that, jackass!” Chloé said from her seat, lazily flipping them off. “It’s true but you shouldn’t say it.”

Adrien laughed at that. Especially because Alya just gave an exasperated smile and eyeroll instead of derailing this into an argument. Progress on friendship!

“I don’t know the details,” Lila said. “But when I suggested that Ladybug choose Marinette, she refused. All Ladybug said was that she ‘had suspicions’. But… you’re right. If Ladybug gave Chloé a Miraculous but thinks giving one to Marinette is a bad idea…. Maybe we should examine why.”

Oh. So that was her game. Well, as much as Adrien wanted to say something about that, there was already a plan in place to keep it from going too far. Perhaps it would be better if Marinette didn’t know about this one.

Though he would later tell her that Alya still defended her from Lila’s implied accusation. Manipulation was a powerful tool, but try too big a lie too soon and it’d fall apart. Lila had too much faith in her abilities, and not enough in how wonderful Marinette was.

So instead, he rolled his eyes and focused on the girl in question, who had just scrambled into the classroom seconds before the bell rang. And by ‘scrambled’, he of course means she ran in and tripped, landing on the floor in front of his desk.

“Morning, Bugaboo,” Adrien grinned. “Glad to see you’re still falling for me!”

“Just for that, you don’t get breakfast,” Marinette teased, holding up a somehow-not-crushed bag of pastries.

“Wait, no, I’m sorry!”

Alya was filming again. Of course she was. She had to get footage for the Ladyblog! And be nearby in case Rena Rouge is needed. Though she had learned her lesson about getting too close to the battles, and was safely with the rest of the crowd of reporters and curious passerby, all recording as well.

However, the Akuma of the Day was not her intrest right now. It was the new Hero! A girl in a gray and pink costume, her hair in two buns. She was adorable!

While Ladybug stood back, observing the battle, Chat Noir and the new Hero, Multimouse, fought the Akuma.

Alya winced when Multimouse got grabbed and thrown, landing near the crowd. She tumbled, rolling on the road. The force must’ve been enough to slip her Miraculous off, as there was a flash of pink.

Even if Alya had the reflexes to cut off her own video, and wasn’t frozen in shock, all the other people recording would have footage of this reveal.

As the pink flash ended, Alya watched as Marinette got up, shaking her head. The girl looked panicked, realizing her Miraculous was gone. Even more panicked when she saw she was on live tv.

Chat had followed to make sure she was okay, and was just as panicked. He landed, helping her up just as she found the necklace.

“It’s fine,” Marinette swallowed. “I- I’m fine. Let me finish the fight and you guys can have this back, okay?”

“If you’re sure,” Chat said. “Too bad about the identity thing. I mean, Ladybug and I have been so excited to get you on the team for a while, after all the times you helped us without powers. Kinda sucks I won’t get to enjoy you being a Teammate more often!”

“Chat, Multimouse!” Ladybug shouted from the rooftop. “Fall back and regroup!”

Nodding, Marinette gave a sheepish wave to the cameras before calling her Transformation again. The Cat chased the Mouse back to the rooftops and away from the fight.

This… didn’t make sense. Hadn’t Lila said that Ladybug was refusing to give Marinette a Miraculous? And while Alya assured her that Ladybug’s suspicions of Marinette possibly being connected to how many times the Class was Akumatized was just paranoia, Alya had thought that Ladybug had already made up her mind.

Had Lila only said that to cover that Ladybug was choosing Marinette? Then why say all that about how Marinette was ‘suspicious’? It doesn’t make sense. Maybe Lila talked to her again and changed her mind?

No. That doesn’t make sense either. Chat said that he and Ladybug were looking forward to ‘Multimouse’ for a while.

Did Ladybug just tell Lila that to keep the info secret? No that still doesn’t make sense. It brings her back to ‘why say she’s ‘suspicious’’?

She’d have to look more into it.

Multimouse landed on top of a rooftop, with ‘Ladybug’ and ‘Chat Noir following her.

‘Reality!’.

‘Ladybug’ turned into orange mist. ‘Chat’ seemed to as well at first, before solidifying into Silver Fox. God she hated that name. But it was technically the term for an actual black-furred fox. Somehow.

“Ugh,” Silver groaned, nearly collapsing against her. “How in the hell did you do this the first time? Making ‘Ladybug’ act like you is hard enough without having to constantly wrap an Illusion around myself.”

“I am the creative one out of both of us,” Multimouse said. “How’re you doing though? Using both of those must be tiring.”

“A little,” he replied. “I might take a nap after this.”

As half of Silver Fox’s transformation dropped, leaving just Chat Noir, Multimouse dropped her own transformation. Letting the Kwamis rest, Marinette pulled some snacks out of her purse.

“This is fun!” Trixx said, his mouth full of blueberry scone.

“It is,” Mullo agreed, munching on a cracker. “We’ve been helpful though, right?”

“Very, Marinette nodded, petting the Kwami’s head. “Now there’s footage of Ladybug and I in the same place. No one will be able to connect us.”

“We still need to finish the fight,” Chat said. “That means we still need Trixx.”

“Aw man,” Trixx sighed.

“You really need to work on your work ethic,” Tikki mused, appearing from wherever she had been hiding.

“Do you need me again?” Mullo asked.

“Nope,” Marinette answered. “Silver Fox will make an Illusion of Multimouse this time, while Ladybug fights for real. I do need to purify the Butterfly, once the fight’s over. Stay nearby and at the ready in case something happens though.”

“You ready to go again?” Chat asked.

“I guess,” Trixx sighed, popping the rest of the scone in his mouth.

“Still less lazy than Plagg,” Tikki muttered.

“Trixx, Let’s Pounce!”

“Tikki, Spots On!”

Ladybug stretched, while Silver Fox yawned. With a soft smile, she kissed his cheek. That seemed to perk him up a little bit.

“Make sure to keep ‘Multimouse’ back a bit,” Ladybug said. “Don’t need her getting hit and ruining the whole thing. And when we get to the fight, the Butterfly’s in the Akuma’s hairpin. We need to get it quick before your Mirage runs out.”

“Don’t worry,” Silver said. “I believe in you. So do most people.”

“Most people?” she wondered.

“A certain liar might’ve said something this morning,” he shrugged. “Don’t worry. With the appearance of Multimouse, her claim is being quickly forgotten. Or someone might catch on.”

She frowned, wondering exactly what was said. Oh well. She’d deal with it later.

Turns out ‘later’ meant walking into a goddamn riot when she got back to class.

#lila salt #Multimouse comes back and so does a new fusion #yes Adrien is ridiculous in his naming theme #Alya's not an asshole or dumb she's trying to believe the best in both sides

528 notes · View notes

artxyra · 4 years

Note

So I had this idea and I was wondering if you would write it. So damian has lived with his dad for a couple of years, he is 15/16 and his brothers have been nagging him about going on a date like a normal teenager for months now, and then one day he just snaps and screams at them " don't you get it I'm already betrothed!" His brothers are confused but try to help " I'm sure we can find a loophole and get you out of it!" "No. If the betrothal is broken the league will kill her."enter marinette.

Note: Well this story sounded better in my head, but it took forever to type up. I hope you enjoy it.

Damian couldn’t remember a time when his brothers didn’t make an attempt at his love life. Every other month (sometimes weeks) it was attempt after attempt. He hated it. At first, he humored his brothers, but that humor quickly turned to the opposite emotion. Though Damian’s biggest secret thought that it was hilarious, and it was.

Damian remembers their first attempt, he was only fourteen, been in the Waynes’ custody for almost four years. He remembers being tugged into a bathroom and then forces to wear silly fancy clothes. His brothers should have been lucky that he didn’t have his weapons on him. To them, it was to gain the high school boy experience since Damian refused to do any of the sorts. Shouldn’t they just happy that he has one friend at the very least? Nope, they really wanted Damian to have a sense of normality.

“Baby bird, every teen goes on a date. Please just do this for us.” It was Dick that had started the persuasion. Damian had only tsk and fold his arms against his chest. He was already fed up with all the bullshit spewing from the older adopted Wayne’s mouth.

“Why should I even do this? I barely know the har—girl and—” Damian begins to scowl as Dick interrupts him by tossing a vest for him to wear. He mentally gags at the texture of the vest. Damian had scene better quality, not that he’ll tell where.

“We promise it will be worth it.” It was Tim that adds to the conversation as Jason was to busy cleaning up his knife in broad daylight.

It wasn’t long after that was the date with a Gotham native. She wasn’t up to his standards; it was clear that she didn’t want to be with him for him. To this day he suspects that she only agreed because of the money. Damian tried everything to make the date super uncomfortable for the girl even going so far as to make up an explicitly detailed gory story. She left cursing his brothers, mainly Dick, out at the end of their date.

Damian had thought that would be the one and only time that would happen…he had forgotten the stubbornness that runs in the family. Failing was not an option as this continues for another four years.

“I’m sure it was a fun date.” A female’s voice says from the screen of his laptop, that was place on his dresser as he does shadow movements with his katana.

“It was tiresome, Angel, and quite frankly I’m getting sick of it.” Damian lowers the blade to his side and turns to face the screen. On the screen is a lovely female, around his age with long dark hair that drapes over her shoulders. She lets out a giggle.

“I’m sure they have the best intentions, besides it’s not like they know I exist, anyway.” She says rolling her eyes.

“Angel, I love you, but not even you can last an evening with the dates they have set up over and over again.” Damian sighs putting up the katana. He then picks up the laptop and goes to lie on his bed.

“Well, I’m sure it will all be fine. Besides, I have a surprise for you that is coming soon. Just hold out until then. Okay?” She says with a bright as a loud sound goes off in the background. Damian sighs and nods before ending the video call. He hates keeping her a secret, but it was the right thing to do.

It was a week later when his brothers came to him with another blind date proposal signally the tenth time that has happened in a span of a month. Everyone could see the growing frustration in the young Wayne heir. With the mention of dates, couples, restaurant, manhood, romance, it would set Damian off, although he was quick to calm down with a message from an Angel.

“Look Demon spawn, she is literally perfect for you.” It was an excuse, something for him to look forward to. No one is perfect.

“C’mon baby bird, she could be the one.” Another excuse. There was only one girl that was the one and she’s several hundred thousand miles away.

“Go, it all fancy and shit, also the NDA.” Ugh, this was becoming numbing. Damian could only wish to slide his fine blade across all their necks. Also, why the hell would Jason even mention an NDA to him in the first place?

“What is this? Another blind date for the young master?” Thank god for Alfred.

“Alfred, we promise this will be the last time.” That’s a lie and he knows it.

Damian could feel the growing headache forming at the back of his mind. Dick’s moving too fast, Tim’s giving him all the details about his so-called date, and well Jason is just being Jason.

“Enough!” Damian finally breaks. “The reason why I don’t like going on these so-called blind dates is because I’m betrothed to someone.” The word betrothed rings through the heads of his family members.

“Wha~!” Simultaneously, the older Waynes’ minds break.

“Is there any way you can break it off? A loophole even? How are you betrothed?” Shouldn’t that had been asked backward? They could all see the steam oozing out of Damian’s ears.

Crossing his arms and turning his back to his brothers, Damian looks down. “No, not unless you want a death on your hands. The only way to end a betrothal is to kill the other, that has always been the League’s away of things.” The second the last word left his lips, Damian walks away; he needs to talk with his Angel.

Still in shock, everyone turns to one another.

“How could we have missed that?” Tim screeches before taking a sip from his mug despite the shaking in his hand.

Dick was unsure what to say, think, or do. It’s not every day you learn the brother you’ve been setting up is engaged. An engagement that they could not break.

“I’m more worried who the brat is engaged too?” Jason murmurs then proceed to clean out his gun. His brothers stare at him with wide eyes unsure what to say to the second oldest.

For the next week after that bomb drop, his brothers continue to pester him about his betrothal, they even managed to include Bruce in the conversation a couple of times. If it wasn’t for Alfred, Damian knows that the pestering would have left someone in the hospital.

On a rare sunny day in Gotham, Damian had taken Titus out for a walk. It was clear his mind and to get away for the time being. Finding a nice park bench to sit on, he pulls out a small sketchpad and begins to sketch. Titus runs around enjoying the outdoors.

“Is this spot taken?” The voice sounded so familiar. He grunts ever once looking up the person afraid that he had misheard the voice. “Oh, c’mon Dams, I thought you would be happy to see me.” It was then that he looks up. In shock, he pushes the sketchpad to the side and pulls the person in front of him into his arms.

“I miss you.” He murmurs into her dark hair. “But how?”

“I managed to win the Martha Wayne scholarship, and then your butler Alfred got into contact with me about visiting.” She says looking up to Damian, though she was mainly seeing his chin due to their height difference. “You’ve grown.” She then pouts.

Damian lets out a soft chuckle, hoping that no one outside of his Angel heard him. His Angel places her head against his chest and together they stayed like that until Titus decided that he was some attention.

“Awe, he’s so cute.” She says petting the Great Dane.

Damian was internally happy to have her by his side for the first time in years. She’s the one that is perfect for him and it’s not because she was molded to be, but because she knows him inside and out.

When Damian, Titus, and his Angel returned to the manor, it is Alfred that they see first.

“Welcome home, young master, and Miss Dupain-Cheng.” Alfred greets the teen.

“Alfred, please call me Marinette, my last name can be a mouth full,” Marinette says giving the butler a smile. Alfred nods and proceeds to guide them to the living room. “So, this is the Wayne manor, those photos you send me Dams does this no justice.”

Damian once again chuckles knowing she’ll be in a heavily inspired by the architecture which will then cause her to go dark until she finishes whatever project came out of the inspiration.

“Angel, how about I give you a proper tour of the manor?” He offers to which she gladly takes.

Marinette had been staying at the Wayne manor for a couple of days before Damian brothers make their grand entrance. Without catching sight of the girl, they make their way to the youngest Wayne hoping to get some answers about his betrothal.

“Um, you can ask me if you want,” Marinette says from behind the boys causing an outcry of emotions.

“What you’re real?” It was Tim rubbing his eyes that speaks first.

Marinette awkwardly nods, “And you need sleep. I have a special brew that can knock anyone out within seconds.” She says to Tim before turning to the others. “I’m Marinette, nice to meet you.”

Dick and Jason stare at the girl lost for words. Dick was internally gushing about her size and how cute she is compared to Damian while Jason struggles to comprehend the person in front of him.

Marinette closes the gap between her and Jason. She looks over the second oldest and smiles sadly. “You have so much darkness around you. The same that used to be around Dams. I could help you if you want.” She says taking the male’s hand.

Jason was lost for words. This person was willing to help him. He wasn’t sure how to feel but the light flowing off of this tiny person was overpowering.

“That’s it you’re my new favorite sibling. I will protect you with my life.” Dick cries out starting the competition of who’s Marinette’s favorite brother-in-law.

Not surprisingly enough, Marinette warmed her way into the Wayne family. She even bonded with Steph, Cass, and Barbara whenever the girls came over for a girls-only day. Damian quickly was reminded why he didn’t want his family to know about her, seeing that he barely has time with her as his siblings take all the time away. Though it has it’s benefits. He can now visit Marinette in France without needing to sneak away and she could come to visit the manor whenever she wants.

Damian knew the moment he said “I do”, she’ll be his forever in life and in death just like he’ll be hers forever.

Tag List: *View my Tagging System guidelines for how to to be properly tagged or removed.

#daminette #maribat #ml x dc #damimari #mlb x dc #ml crossover #dc crossover #marinette x damian

615 notes · View notes

oblivionbladetd · 3 years

Text

Lily Orchard's writing tips, a brief epilogue.

That took so much more out of me than I thought it would. Like I've watched Videos on the list and managed to get good quality screenshots from one, specifically the Diregentlemen's Two Professional Writers react to her thread. Great video btw look it up. But anyway just giving that god awful list a fair shake with my own critical chops is just... Ugh... So much of it isn't even writing advice, it's just a few takes that didn't end up in a Glass of Water and A LOT THAT DID.

I used to be a fan of hers, I didn't want her list to be this fuckin bad. I've seen all of her glass of water vids I've seen her Korra and Steven ar trash and here's why. I didn't make this because I wanted to sit here twirling my dastardly mustache until it catches flame from the friction, I made as a reminder to myself and to warn others. Lily Orchard is not a good critic, she's not a great writer. From a list I think I might have inspired she can't even follow her own advice.

Having watched here latest Steven video, you could use the same absolutionist logic on most of her works and drudge the horridness straight to the surface. As an easy example the poke-madhouses mating bond concept and even Bonnie. There was no consent either time, but fuck it G just knows what's best for her and lily and nobody will ever be upset with that implication... But both that and her Steven is the worst video are cans of worms I don't particularly want to rip open right now, leaving the Steven Universe defense at none of the diamonds knew better, just like 90% of the gems they made. Probably recontextualizes that video a bit.

I'll admit now that I am a bit embarrassed with how clear it was that I lost my patience near the end of the list, but will leave it be as it is my truest felling on the matter. I do sincerely believe what I said In the beginning, sifting through her content for meaningful takeaways is filtering a sewage outflow pipe for clean drinking water. Believe me it is perfectly possible, but the effort it takes is better spent looking for cleaner water. The way she structures her everything is so absolutist it make her good takes only decent because they heavily miss the qualifiers needed, and the bad takes are said in such an unwavering confidence it comes off as just outright stupid. The dire gentlemen said that only 15 tips were good advice, but I'd argue that you could pair it down further as only like 5 are just that good right out of the box no extra thought needed. That's 5% basically golden rules, 10% things you'd really need to think on though are otherwise good and 85% padding, ranting, or just straight up bad advice.

In summary, Lily Orchard is a hack critic, a hack writer, and honestly a terrible person if you've seen anything about Lily she can't carefully curate. If you're gonna trudge through the sludge bring a good pair of waders, because to get her nuggets of gold you'll have be up to your tits in bad takes.

#lily orchard

19 notes · View notes

astringofmadhousefloozies · 3 years

Text

Catch a Falling Star

The Star Sending Festival goes a little differently when Yuu has a raging crush on one of the performers.

Warnings for coarse language, deceptive actions, and being an excuse for OC x Canon, baby!

Please check my Twisted Wonderland Fanfiction tag for more, and let me know if you enjoyed it! I have an open askbox and do like to chat.

~*~*~*~

"You boys look great."

Trey and Deuce flushed a bit, and you laughed and snapped a quick picture. How pretty they looked in starlight silks and airy linens, all embroidered in gold! Pretty as a picture.

"If you like the clothes so much, you can take my spot and play the drum?" Idia, poor thing, he sounded so hopeful from the other side of his screen. And the clothes were nice, nicer than even the robes you had woken up in. They'd look nice on you. But if they'd look nice on you, how much nicer would they look on him?

You tried to keep your voice casual, but you couldn't keep out the teasing tone. "Noooo, they’d suit you better. And I can't keep a beat! You've done perfect on some of the rhythm games you play. It'll be a cakewalk."

He just groaned, and kept at it. As though pity for him could outweigh your own desires.

~*~*~*~

"Selfish little bastard of a man."

"Please stop calling my brother names."

"I'll call him what I like. Deuce has been working very hard. At least he can't resist gamifying anything."

Ortho hovered behind your shoulder. "Is it wrong that I hope Deuce succeeds? I should want Idia to always win."

"I hope not. I like Idia a lot-"

"You do."

"Shh. But that doesn't mean I want him to always have his way. He does need to do things sometimes. If he doesn't occasionally come out of his comfort zone, how's he going to extend said zone? He's got... there's zones he needs to be in before..."

Ortho tilted his head, and you ruffled his hair like the puppy he seemed. "Anyways. I got an idea. Say nothing to you brother about it, I don't want him crying betrayal in my messages."

~*~*~*~

"Easy sleep."

The gem glowed to life, and you set it aside to grab the next unactivated one. With so many students not wanting to make a wish? All you had to say was that you'd take unwanted stones, no questions asked. By sunset there were piles of them by the Ramshackle gate. all to add to Deuce's . And wishing stars didn't seem to care if the same person used multiple, just if you spoke it out loud. Which, with your loudmouth shnook of a roommate, meant you were just cycling through a list of trivial things.

"Ugh, are you done? I'm going to bed." He only made a few more wishes himself, for endless food and as many naps as he'd like, before growing bored.

"I'll be up soon, make yourself comfortable. Um. Fly the heavens. Swim like fishes. A clean conscience..." You kept going through ones in the lyrics from a remembered song, until you were sure Grim was in bed and wouldn't be awake to make fun of you.

"One true lover with a thousand kisses."

The stone clicked on like a sigh, warming under your touch. The light seemed a bit different, though it was likely your imagination. You grabbed the next one. "Idia to perform in his pretty little outfit." Click. "That if I go home, I rememeber everything, everyone here." Click. Click. Click. You kept going until there was only one left.

You whispered a truly selfish one to it, and it lit up so bright you had to blink the spots from your eyes.

~*~*~*~

"Aaaaaaaaa you look so cuuute~" As beautiful as Idia looked? You couldn't stop gushing over Ortho. "You're such a pretty little thing aaaaaaaaah!~" You swung Ortho around in a hug. "You look great! And the ceremony is saved!"

God, he had such a sweet laugh. "I'll be perfect! I have to go! I'll see you after!" Was he trailing sparkles as he went? Probably not. And with him gone, you could go back to your original target.

Idia fidgeted in his spoot and looked away as you looked him up and down. You'd never seen him look so fine. Of course, even in his usual clothes, he was beautiful, but in these, this finery? He looked otherworldly, more a fanciful painting than a person. Maybe everyone else could see even a fraction of what you did.

"You look nice."

"It's awful."

"It's lovely. A splendid get up for a splendid person." He turned red. "A kind, sweet boy who steps up to the plate when it really matters." Redder. "A wonderful person who went out and personally granted all the wishes he could - Mal told me about what you did, and look what you've done for Ortho! And you saved the ceremony!"

He covered his face with his hands. "Stop, stop, I'm too low-leveled to take these complements. I don't deserve them."

"You deserve plenty. May I...?" You held up your phone.

He frowned at you. "Why would you want a picture of me looking like an idiot?"

"You look..." So beautiful you feel lightheaded just from standing this close. "Far from an idiot."

He argued, but you did get your picture.

~*~*~*~

The ceremony was over, but you're just pissy. If it was just your phone on the friz? Yeah, whatever. But everyone's went screwy, so you knew damn well Idia did something so there wouldn't be pictures or video.

And he'd done so well! He was a born drummer, he hadn’t missed a beat. He'd been so alive, and passionate, and he needed to see it for himself. That was the whole reason, not that you’d wanted a recording of him to watch in the wee hours of the morning.

Good thing that even as he fled from the wishing tree, he was easy to pick out, and it was easy to guess the direction he was going. So, instead of chasing directly after him and losing out to his long stride, you just took a different path and waylaid him in a small clearing.

He didn't even realize you were there until you steped into his path ten feet in from of him, landing on his ass.

"So. How'd you screw the phones?"

He blinked up at you, chest heaving. His clothes were damp from the ceremony, and he smelled of sweat, though not unpleasantly. "Made a signal jammer. They'll be fine when I turn it off."

You smiled, and sat down across from him. You'd picked a good spot to find him, the moss was thick underneath you. both. "That's a great trick. Why?"

He rolled his eyes, already knowing what track you were on. "No one wants pictures of me except you."

"If that was true, you wouldn't have made it so no one got any pictures of the ceremony. The one where you were only a small part of." You decided to add a bit of guilt. "Deuce's poor mother, she'll not get any pictures of her boy!"

He flopped back onto the ground and covered his face. "Stop lying."

"I'm not lying."

"You don't actually care about that." Still lying back, he pointed a finger at you. "You're just mad because you didn't get your pictures of me! Why me?"

"Why not you? I was so busy looking at you I barely had time to notice anything else! Why would I want to look at anything else!" You couldn't stop yourself. "I don;t understand why anyone would ever stop looking at you. I've never seen anyone so beautiful in my life. And after I got to know you? I like all of you, even the parts that drive me mad. Especially those." You drew your knees to your chest, painful with the thudding of your heart. "You're wonderful. The only thing about you I truly don't like is how much you dislike yourself."

He'd drawn back during your... good lord, that was a confession, wasn't it? Against a tree, staring at you wide eyed with fear. He was going to run as soon as he caught his breath, you knew it. You'd fucked it up and he probably wouldn't even want to keep being your friend.

"Do you really mean that?"

You nodded, waiting for the shoe to drop. But instead of running, he joined you, a hair's breadth from your side, silent for what felt like eons.

"I'm an SR at most. On my good days."

"Nonsense." You laughed. "You're a treasure. a truly rare specimen. Museum quality."

He managed to laugh back. "Only normies still go to museums."

You nudged his shoulder. "I said don't ever call me that."

"Normie."

"Stop."

"Nor-"

You pushed him lightly, and he still flopped over, laughing. You joined him, head on his chest. (So damned bony! even with his faint muscle, you could feel the curves of rib beneath his skin.)

"Idia?"

"?"

"You're terrified. I can hear your heart going."

"Ah... Excited too. People don’t confess to you every day. Especially not me."

"Oh, they should though. Letters pouring out of your locker every time you open it. Chocolates from secret admirers. The whole list."

"Not everyone's you. No one else is."

"You can just borrow mine. I get tons of them."

He frowned at you. "And you pick me?"

"Yes? Why wouldn't I?"

"There's the whole school to pick from. A whole school who aren't shut in otakus with curses."

"Oh, I got a curse too." He narrowed his eyes at you. "I'm the hottest bitch in a school full of hot bitches. It's truly dreadful. No one meets my exacting standards except you."

"I am cursed. And you have no standards, because..."

You held a finger to his lips, and he went cross-eyed trying to look at it. "No. Don't start. Can I prove I like you?"

He gave a small nod, and you took a deep breath before you began. The first kiss, you placed to his fore head after pushing his bangs away. The next two, to each scrunched eyelid, purplish and finely veined. Four, five, six, to the nose and each cheek. On the last, you hesitated. Was this too much? Was this too quick? He answered you himself, reaching up and dragging you down to crush his lips against yours with a gasp. He only let you up when he gasped for breath, eyes unfocused and his lips bruised and swollen. It was such a glorious sight, you couldn't help but record it.

He didn't even get a chance to shield his eyes, and you'd stowed your phone away as he blinked in shock as he realized what the click was. "Why'd you do that?"

"Because you looked beautiful, and I wanted to remember it."

"Nnnn... please don't show anyone."

"Not even you?"

"No."

"Too bad, I'll show you after. People are probably looking for us."

~*~*~*~

You couldn't complain. You're pretty sure that you weren't supposed to plant grass seed by hand? But there was something soothing about your hands in the dirt, so you were doing it that way.

"I can't believe Shroud's not here, he made this mess."

"Ortho is here." He was in charge of spreading the grass seed after he helped get rid of the burnt grass.

"Ortho doesn’t count."

You threw a clod of dirt at Grimm's head. "Then you might as well say you don't, either."

Idia actually showed up in the flesh before that fight could continue, gushing that he actually got the game sequel he wanted. Good for him! Now you needed to find a playthrough of the original to watch, to properly understand the excitement.

"It's a pity you didn't get a wish yourself, Yuu." Deuce didn’t know that you'd wished up at least three dozen stars yourself, he thought you’d just gotten them from people. He didn’t need to know, either.

You looked up at Idia, catching his eye. He started, and flushed not just his face, but halfway down his hair, before it faded out, a pulse of pink sparks. The smile you made at the sight hurt your cheeks from the strength of it.

"I'd say I got my wish just fine."

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fanfiction #idia shroud

19 notes · View notes

lexosaurus · 4 years

Text

Everything Was White: Part 10

Part [1] / [9]

Read on [ffn] [ao3]

---

Click.

“Danny Fenton Phantom was spotted today exiting from the Fenton Ghost Assault Vehicle at the Kaufman Health Center, a recovery center specializing in adolescent mental health and trauma—”

Click.

“—what I want to know is what the hell happened here? Okay? Because in this video I see a kid who can’t walk, who’s looking around like he’s terrified someone’s going to come get him, and you’re sitting here telling me that this is Danny Phantom? This kid? So what happened inside—”

Click.

“—was released from his inpatient stay at the Amity Park Psychiatric Center just this week. Though it is unclear at this time if we’ll see him soaring through the skies again anytime soon, sources say he is recovering quickly—”

Click.

“—no, Dave, I agree that something’s not right here. If you ask me, he’s gotta be a ticking time bomb—”

Click.

“—a ghost or a human? That’s the question we’ll be discussing tonight—”

Click.

“—while what happened during his time within the government’s hold is still unknown, one thing is for certain: Danny Phantom has a long way to go if he wants to get back to his former glory.”

Click.

The screen went black.

“You shouldn’t be watching stuff like that,” Jazz said from behind him.

Danny stared blankly at his lap, not even bothering to turn around and face Jazz’s disappointed gaze. His therapist had told him—had told his parents—that Danny should avoid the news for a while. In her office, Danny found it too easy to comply because he was only just beginning to jigsaw together the broken pieces of his life, so why the hell should he care about the news?

But now it was different. It was unavoidable. The media had been tipped off that Danny Phantom had returned to modern society—somewhat—and that he was attending a PHP program, and now any brief semblance of anonymity he had was gone.

Just like that.

“Twitter’s worse,” he muttered.

Jazz sighed and came around the sofa, sinking into the cushions next to Danny. Her hair was up in a messy bun with strands sticking out like gravity didn’t exist. She pulled the sleeves down on her oversized hoodie and wrapped her arms around her legs.

There was a long pause, and for a moment, Danny prepared himself for a Jazz-style lecture about teenage psychology and how he needed to listen to his therapist because she was the expert here, not him, but instead all she gave was a small “I know.”

His stomach turned, and in a moment of vulnerability, he uttered, “I think the worst part is...they’re right.”

“Danny—”

“No. They...I...I used to get this stuff all the time. When I was just Phantom.” He paused, waiting for Jazz to butt in, but she didn’t. “It was so much—so much easier to ignore. Back then. Because they were wrong. I—I knew they were wrong. I wasn’t...a ghost. I was a halfa. They were...they were looking at me like a full ghost, you know? And...the theories were wrong. They didn’t know…”

“Some of the things they said were pretty ridiculous, I remember that.”

“Right?” Danny twisted around to face Jazz. “It was obvious to us, but they didn’t know! They sounded crazy!”

Jazz looked at him with an uncertain gaze. “You realize that they still sound crazy, right? All the people talking about you?”

“No...you don’t get it. The theories are updated, and they know—they know I’m Phantom. Don’t you get it? Everything they’re saying...it’s all based in truth.”

Her expression turned pained. “Danny, stop.”

“But I’m right.”

“Danny just—come on, think about it for a second! The public hasn’t seen you in months, everything they’re going off of is based on rumors!”

“They saw me this morning, didn’t they?” Danny gestured at the television.

Jazz scoffed. “And you’re really going to take their word over mine? Because of a five-second video of you going into a building?”

A headache was building in his skull. Jazz was trying to guilt him, wasn’t she? But he knew the truth.

The public didn’t need much more than the short video of him going from the GAV to the building, because there wasn’t much else to the legendary Danny Phantom anymore. Everything in that video...that’s all he was now.

Just a traumatized teen going to a health center.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Danny—”

“No, I’m—I’m...” He pressed his hand to his forehead. “I’m tired.”

“Me too.”

Her voice was so quiet, so defeated . Danny couldn’t remember a time where Jazz ever sounded like this.

He was selfish, wasn’t he? He had spent all this time so caught up in his problems and his anxieties that he never thought about what Jazz was going through. They had talked, but not really.

A wave of guilt swept through Danny because he was such a selfish and awful brother who didn’t ever think to check in with his sister despite everything she had done for him and she deserved so much better than him.

His throat felt tight. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, cut it out,” she said, slapping his arm playfully.

He tensed and immediately felt his face heat up in embarrassment. He kept his eyes trained down to his lap, not wanting to see if Jazz noticed his reaction.

“It’s not your fault, Danny.”

Danny didn’t know what she was referring to. Even so, she was probably wrong. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“With what, spending quality time with my little brother?”

“Sure.”

“Well...” She yawned. “See? I’m too tired to do any more homework. Guess I’m forced to chill here on the couch with you. Woe is me and all.”

He rolled his eyes. “The horror.”

“I know, you should pity me.”

“Maybe you should take a nap.”

“Why do that when they’re showing reruns of ‘The Bachelor’ on TV right now?” Jazz plucked the remote from Danny’s fingers.

“Oh god.” A grin began to creep on Danny’s lips. “I get back from—from being abducted by the government...and you want to torture me with trash television?”

“Yup!”

“Unbelievable.”

Jazz shot him a playful smile. “Well, your options are either ‘The Bachelor’ or you could always find Dad and let him blather on about ghosts for three hours. Choice is yours!”

“And become the victim of his—his latest invention? You drive a hard bargain.”

The depressive fog was beginning to lift in the room, and it was as if Danny could see clearly for the first time. Here he was, joking around on the couch with Jazz, just like before. There was nothing holding him down. He didn’t need to stand up and walk anywhere, his chest was surprisingly calm for once, and his brain felt clear and calm.

This was what he’d always wanted, right? To sit here with his sister, watching mindless television and joking about whatever was on their minds.

This was what he’d dreamt of nearly every night in the Guys in White compound.

He was safe.

Right?

“Ugh, I don’t know why she got so far into the season,” Jazz said, her eyes glued onto the screen. “She was awful.”

Danny watched as a brunette on the screen threw her purse at another girl and stormed out of the scene cursing. “The producers probably...they made her stay.”

“Oh yeah, no doubt. She was crazy. There’s no way Kevin actually liked her.”

“I mean, it is reality TV. It’s not—not actually real.”

Kind of like how this isn’t real, huh, Fentino?

Danny gripped his shirt. No, his brain needed to shut up right now. This was real. He was safe and the government was nowhere near him and they couldn’t touch him because the courts had made sure of it.

“Well, she was annoying either way. I know they like to keep someone on there every season to make drama but ugh, she was just the worst. Like, look!”

“This whole show is the worst though. I can’t...believe you’re make—making me watch this.”

“Well, there’s always those packets Lancer left you!” Jazz said in a singsong voice.

Danny couldn’t hide his disgust. He flopped back against the cushions. “Ugh, don’t even joke about that.”

She took one look at him and laughed, her voice light like a stone skipping over a pond. It was a bright and cheerful sound, one that reminded him of the time he tried to attempt duplication in front of Jazz, resulting in an extra arm sticking out of his torso.

Danny stared mesmerized at his sister, watching as her smile widened across her face and her eyes squeezed shut, crinkling at the corners. He tried to recall if she’d laughed like this at all since his release from the government, but came up blank.

Sure, they’d had moments of sibling bonding since his release, but they were all held back by something. Whether it be the watchful eyes of nurses or Danny’s body perpetually in recovery mode, there was never a moment where they could truly relax and enjoy each other’s company.

But now he was safe.

Well…

His brain drifted back to the leaked video, and his mood instantly soured. His phone felt heavy in his pocket, and he resisted the temptation to take it out and scroll through Twitter.

He couldn’t even imagine what people were saying.

He was probably a joke to them now, wasn’t he? Amity Park’s hero, reduced to nothing more than a shell of his former self. To go from a confident teen who would soar through the skies, protecting citizens from all sorts of unsavory characters to a traumatized, disabled teen who couldn’t get through a day without hours of therapy and needed his mom’s help to get inside of a building was...well, if that didn’t make him a joke, what would?

Jazz’s attention was now back on the TV screen, and Danny tried to emulate her. After all, he was safe and comfortable and with his sister and there was nothing else to this moment, that was all there was to think about.

But then something flashed in the corner of his vision, and for a moment he hoped that his eyes betrayed him because it looked like a white van but that was...it couldn’t be…

No…

But it was.

He glanced over to Jazz, but she was too transfixed on the screen to notice him, and he wouldn’t know how to get her attention anyway because his voice wasn’t working and he couldn’t even breathe now and he was going to die, wasn’t he? He was going to die.

They were coming back for him.

He was going to die.

The van slowed to a crawl, and he desperately tried to see inside of the tinted windows but he couldn’t and they wouldn’t roll down their windows either so who was in the van? Was it...was it…

But it had to be him, right? Who else would come back for him?

He tried to suck in a breath but couldn’t. His chest wasn’t working anymore.

He blinked and the backs of his eyelids were green. Just like his cell floor and the splatters along his wall and his rib when he awoke to it in front of his face and oh god he was going to die, he was going to die, they were coming back for the rest of his core and his ectoplasm and he wasn’t going to survive another round of the compound he knew it he would rather die than do that but his core wouldn’t let him because it needed to protect him his stupid Obsession was going to force him to endure whatever they threw at him in order to protect him.

Unless they ended him first.

Which they were probably here to do.

He was shaking. He was distinctly aware that he was shaking and he hoped that Jazz hadn’t noticed him but she probably would have said something, wouldn’t she?

Oh god. She was going to have to go through it all again too. No...he couldn’t let her...he couldn’t let that happen.

He needed a plan.

But...there was no plan. He couldn’t do anything. The only thing he was capable of was sitting here like some helpless dog watching the van slowly drive by his house. All he could do was wait for it to stop at his driveway, for the agents to jump out of the doors and surround his house, for Operative O to step out with that signature smirk on his face as he held up the inhibitors in one hand and the fucking red bag in the other hand and say with his deep, arrogant tone, “You ready for round two, dog?”

But then, just when the van looked like it would stop, it sped up and turned the corner of their block.

Danny blinked, staring at the empty spot where the van was just seconds ago.

Had it really...left?

He let out a shaky breath. And then another.

It left.

But it had been so close to stopping.

Oh god. Oh no. Oh no no no.

“Danny?”

The room was spinning. He needed air. The lights were so bright. When he looked up, the ceiling was white and he kept trying to tell himself that it was a wooden ceiling but the room was spinning and he couldn’t see correctly and the lights were too bright.

It was too late. His cover was blown. His hands flew up to his hair and he felt a comforting tug on his scalp.

Get a grip, get a grip…

“Oh my god, Danny! Hey, look at me!”

Danny shook his head. Or, he tried to. He didn’t know if he was able to or not, because he definitely couldn’t look at Jazz right now because he was going to be sick—

“Danny, what do you need?”

“I—”

What?

He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t think. Everything was frozen. He felt something wet on his face but he didn’t know what it was or where it came from and his chest was sparking to life and his ears were ringing and he didn’t know what to do.

“Try to breathe.”

Right, he needed air.

He tried to push himself up but only succeeded in falling back onto the couch.

“Hey, what are you—”

Hands invaded his vision, touching his arm, and he swatted them away.

He needed to get out. Escape.

Something grabbed his wrist, and he yanked his arm back to his chest, his eyes snapping onto Jazz’s face.

“Danny—”

“Van!” he gasped.

Jazz stilled. “Huh?”

“There was…” Danny looked back out the window, half expecting to see the white van back outside their house.

But there was nothing.

“...a van.”

Why had it left? What did they come here for in the first place if not to take him back to the compound?

It didn’t make sense.

“What are you talking about?”

“I…” He hugged his chest, looking desperately at Jazz’s confused face for even an ounce of understanding.

Why did the van leave?

“Do you need me to get Mom?”

“No!” He was breathless. He couldn’t explain what was going on because he didn’t even know what was happening. Why the Guys in White decided to patrol around their street. Why they decided to slow down in front of their house.

Jazz tracked his gaze to the window where a black APC News van was stopping to park across the street. “Danny, I know there are lots of news vans around here now, and I know it’s really stressful. But Mom and Dad tinted all the windows so they can’t see inside of the house, okay?”

Danny gritted his teeth. He wanted to yell out that it wasn’t the news, it was the Guys in White, but his voice wasn’t working and even if it was, Jazz would just call him paranoid and insist that the government wasn’t there to get him again, that he was safe, even though he knew that was a lie.

So instead, all he could force out was a tense “sorry.”

“I know this is hard, but we can get through this together, alright?”

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to see her bright, trusting eyes. And, with a final shuddering breath, he felt the last of his adrenaline rush out of him.

Because maybe Jazz was right. After all, this was Jazz. She was always the smart sibling, the one who everyone could trust. She must have been right. It had to have been just a news van.

Maybe he really was unstable.

“Sorry. I’m fine.”

He was suddenly hyper aware of where he was, sitting on the living room couch with his sister, who was looking at him like he was a ticking time bomb—and maybe he was. Maybe that was all he was destined to be from now on.

Either way, it was embarrassing.

“Sorry, I—I’m gonna go lie down for a bit.”

Jazz’s face almost looked relieved. Danny couldn’t blame her.

“Sure, Danny. Do you need help getting upstairs?”

“No.” Danny glanced over to the stairlift, grimacing. He really couldn’t get his core back quick enough.

He began the arduous task of getting up to his bedroom, trying to remember the stupid grounding techniques that the PHP therapists were making them practice. “When you feel your brain trying to pull you into your trauma, remember your senses. Try to think of one thing for each of your five senses to bring you back to the present.”

It was stupid. He didn’t need grounding techniques because he wouldn’t even be in this situation if not for the Guys in White trying to ruin his life again.

One, touch. He could feel the loose ectoplasm beneath his fingers, the way his hands were sticky against the damp tile, the burning electricity they would use to punish him, the cold metal straps chaining him down to the examination table, the ecto-inhibitors weighing down on his neck, the way Operative O’s fingers trailed his chest just before the scalpel sliced through his skin, his flesh tearing off of his body all while he lay there, silently screaming, waiting for the pain to take him because he couldn’t do it anymore.

No, that’s wrong. You’re doing this wrong.

But how could he come back to the present when the past refused to leave him alone?

Think, Fenturd.

He closed his eyes and felt...his sweatpants. And…

Two, hearing. He could hear Operative O’s deep voice—

No.

—and the way it would echo around the tiled rooms, the sounds of nice black shoes hitting the pristine floors, the squeaking of Phantom’s damp hero suit as the operatives dragged him across the floor, the—

Stop.

—machines whirring to life as they prepared to drain him of more ectoplasm every day, the scraping of tools against a metal table, the metal straps clicking into place each day, the slight squeak of the IV drop they would have to wheel into the experimentation room after Danny stopped being able to eat—

STOP.

His hand slammed the emergency brake, and the stairlift lurched to a halt. A wave of nausea swept over him, and he sat there at the top of the stairs, focusing on breathing if only to prevent hurling all over his dad’s stairlift.

He needed to calm down. Ground himself. Be present in the moment. Do what the therapist told him to do.

He could hear his heartbeat. The TV Jazz was watching. The crickets outside.

He flipped the stairlift back on and continued forward.

Three, sight. He could see the controls for the lift. The red emergency brake. His hands. His human skin.

He ascended the last few stairs and, like a robot, rolled off the platform and pushed himself to his bedroom.

He could see his door. It was a wooden door, not like the metal door in the Guys in White facility. The metal door smeared with green ectoplasm—he got punished for that one—with a sickening pool of ectoplasm right in front of it from Danny’s attempts at eating the meals they would bring to him every evening. He could see the cameras in the corners of his cell, always pointing down towards him as a constant reminder that he was always being watched. He could see the granola bars on the other side of his cell mocking him, the tube Operative O would show off before he would shove it down Danny’s throat—for being an insolent, disrespectful creature, of course—the scalpel glistening under the bright lights, ectoplasm speckled on it like jewels.

He could see his bed. His window. His rug.

His nightstand, which he knew if he opened the drawers he would see pens, batteries, his phone charger, and a bottle of oxycodone.

Danny pulled himself onto his bed, pointedly turning his head to face his wall. He could see all the cracks in the wall. When he first got out of the hospital, he used to spend hours tracing the cracks. It was the only thing that would help distract him from all the pain.

He ran a hand along the rough surface, but to his disappointment, the magical distracting aura of the wall had vanished, leaving behind nothing but a broken surface.

Four, smell. Ectoplasm. Nothing but ectoplasm. Burnt battery acid with a hint of lime. Disgusting, revolting, inhuman. On his skin, in his hair, under his nails, everywhere.

The smell of Clorox in the hallway, the distinct rotting of his cell, the red bag…

He covered his face with his hands. He was doing this exercise all wrong, he knew he was, but for some reason he needed to do it this way. He wanted to forget, but there was another part of him that almost needed to relive what happened as if to punish him for existing. It was an ugly, revolting part of him that he loathed right down to his core but it just wouldn’t shut up.

He glanced over to his nightstand.

He needed to make a decision, didn’t he?

Five, taste.

---

“So, Danny. Your mom’s been worried about you,” the therapist said, scanning her clipboard.

Danny prodded at the stress ball in his lap. The one in the hospital had been blue, but this one was green. It could have looked like a ball of ectoplasm if it weren’t so dull.

“Oh?” He feigned surprise.

“She said you’ve been having trouble eating again.”

He hummed, neither confirming nor denying her statement. There was no point in really responding anyway. This was his personal therapist, the nice blonde lady he saw three times a week. She knew him better than anyone at this point. If he even thought about lying, she would call him out.

She tapped her clipboard with her pen. “She told me your father made hot dogs last night. Do you remember?”

Danny stared down at the white carpet. It was so clean, so fresh. If it weren’t for the small grey diamonds patterning the material, it would have looked nearly identical to the government floors.

This office was much brighter than the one she used in inpatient. Much cleaner, and the sofa was more comfortable too. Yet Danny couldn’t help but have a sudden urge to walk straight out the door.

If only he could.

“Danny?” she asked, her voice softening.

He sighed, jabbing a finger into the stress ball. “My dad made hot dogs.”

“Right, and do you remember what happened after he made hot dogs?”

He wanted to forget.

It was bad enough before, with the nurses and his parents constantly going over his meal plan and the stupid protein shakes. But now that everyone was at least vaguely aware that Danny may have had some stupid experience around food and that he may have accidentally brought that home with him and he might be failing to hide it from everyone close to him?

He did not want to get put on a meal plan again.

Maybe he could convince Tucker to pick up some Nasty Burger for them. If he ate it in front of his parents, surely that would get them off his back. That was a normal teen thing, right? He did that before everything changed. That sounded like a good plan.

Danny glanced up at the therapist, the suggestion ready to leave his lips, but faltered. She was looking at him expectantly. She’d asked him a question about dinner, hadn’t she?

“Uh…” Danny squinted at the stress ball, trying to remember the question.

A part of his mind tried to recall what the Nasty Burger tasted like, but he couldn’t remember. It was good, he knew that much. He used to eat there all the time, but now he couldn’t remember.

What if he didn’t like their food anymore? What if it smelled wrong and he couldn’t eat it? The Nasty Burger was a normal teen thing, so if he couldn’t eat it then that would make him abnormal which was the exact thing he was trying to avoid with this plan.

This was a disaster. He knew he was going to fail at eating the Nasty Burger. Why did he think he could do this? He was too much of a mess of a person to even think of eating a burger.

Not a person, remember? You’re just a—

“I’m not,” Danny whispered. “Shut up.”

“Yeah?”

Danny dropped the stress ball into his lap. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists, trying to fight off whatever game his brain was about to play, before groaning and burying his head into his hands.

“Take your time, Danny. Deep breaths.”

Right, he needed to breathe.

In...and out…

He was fine.

“Are you alright?”

Danny nodded, rocking back and forth in his chair ever so slightly. He was fine. He was fine.

He allowed the silence in the therapist’s office to stretch a bit further, focusing on calming his racing heart and embracing the dark, silent parts of his mind. They were his safe havens, the parts of his brain that he could lock himself into to escape the ugly memories of the government facility.

His brain felt like swimming in a hurricane with no land in sight. But every once in a while, he managed to spot the eye in the storm, and sometimes he could even fight the riptides just long enough to swim to safety.

He was fine.

“It’s stupid anyway.”

“What is?”

“This. Me. Everything...dinner.”

“Why do you think it’s stupid?”

He shook his head. “The whole thing...it’s so dumb. I don’t…”

The therapist didn’t say anything. Vaguely, Danny could hear the click of her pen, but he couldn’t hear the familiar scratching of the pen on the clipboard.

She must have been waiting for something, Danny realized.

This was the perfect opportunity. Dinner last night had been a complete and utter disaster. He had already been on edge courtesy of the white van—which now he was almost positive he was such a paranoid idiot because it was probably just a news van—and then the next thing he knew he was curled up in the bathroom trying to fight off the smell of processed meat that was attacking his home.

He could have told the therapist right then and there. She knew about the dissection, about the night he tried to escape, about the nights he’d spent locked in his dark, damp cell, shivering, desperately trying to cling to the memories of his family and friends because he knew—or he thought—that those memories were all he’d have left of them.

And suddenly, he wanted so badly to tell her because what was worse than being ripped open and torn apart? What could possibly be worse than being electrocuted and dragged away from his family? What could be worse than hearing gunshots and not knowing for weeks after if the Guys in White had actually shot and killed his family?

It was all so screwed up. He was so tired of the panic, of the pain, of the lapses in his memory and the freaking therapies and the chest pain that never seemed to go away. This was his life now and he was exhausted.

This was the only part of his captivity that he hadn’t told her. He could end all this secrecy right now. She could help him.

He looked up at her, and there she sat with her blonde, curly hair clipped back, revealing a patient smile paired with her signature soft, grey eyes. Her legs were crossed, and in her hands, she held her clipboard and pen. She was here, radiating kindness and a judgment-free environment where Danny was sure he could reveal exactly what the hell was going on without worrying about seeing that horrified face he saw from his mother or Jazz during family therapy.

She could help him. He just had to say it.

“I…” He took a shuddering breath, dropping his eyes back to his lap where the green stress ball still rested. “Um…”

Say it.

“I…”

Say it.

“In the...in the…”

SAY IT.

“...”

Why couldn’t he say it?

He glanced up again and she was still sitting as patient as before. She was waiting for him, because she trusted him to tell her what was wrong, and he wouldn’t say it.

Because he couldn’t.

Because he was weak.

Because Operative O did train him, just like he had promised he would.

And worst of all, Danny had let him. He knew exactly what Operative O was trying to do, and he’d let it happen. He hadn’t tried to fight him off at all, and he hadn’t eaten the granola bars when asked. He could have easily avoided all of this, but he didn’t. Because he knew, and Operative O knew, that Danny deserved it.

“I don’t know.”

The therapist hummed in response. “Food can be just as powerful of a weapon as a knife. It can be used against us as a means for control. And then sometimes, we may take that trauma home with us. Do you feel like the Guys in White used food to control you?”

“Of course they did,” Danny snapped. What did she think the entire meal plan was for?

“Can you think of a time where they did this? It can be any time that jumps out to you.”

Danny frowned, rolling the stress ball around in his lap. If he outright refused to answer, then she would tell his parents and they would start crying again and would threaten to send him back to inpatient. And after yesterday, he was already on thin ice.

So he would have to give an answer, even if it wasn’t the whole truth.

“They were mad that I had to use IVs,” he started. “So they tried to force feed me.”

“That must have been really scary.”

“Yeah…” His throat tightened, and his eyes started to burn.

“Can you tell me about it a little?”

No.

“Uhh…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “By that point, everything just hurt so much. I don’t really...I can’t…”

“What was hurting?”

He hugged his torso. “My back, mostly. My arm too. Ribs. That was before...before when they—with my chest, you know. I didn’t have that then. There was time in between my back and that.”

“Right.”

“Yeah.” He was starting to feel hazy. Things were blurring together, and he didn’t know if the tingles in his chest were a sign of his pain medication wearing off or if they were just a part of a distant memory.

“Did the smell of the hot dogs bring you back to that place?”

“Kinda. I don’t know. It shouldn’t have.”

“Why do you think that?”

Danny pressed a hand to his chest. The tingles were starting to get worse, and Danny tried to remember if he had taken his medication that morning.

He had to have taken it. His mother controlled his medication, per doctor orders, and she always made him take it with breakfast.

But the tingles in his chest were starting to feel like fire licking at his skin, and even when he tried to smother the fire with his fingers, it only seemed to grow worse.

It didn’t matter, he would get more medication soon. He just had to grit his teeth and bear it until then.

He was fine.

“Danny, what’s on your mind?”

Danny flinched, and once again, he was made aware that he was still sitting across from his therapist who seemed to have an unlimited supply of patience for his bullshit.

He glanced up at the clock. They still had a half hour left of this session.

“Yeah.”

What were they talking about again?

---

The phone lit up, illuminating the dark room.

Danny wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting on his bed, staring out the window at the stars speckled against the sky. It was a clear night, a full moon. It would have been perfect for a flight if he could. If he didn’t have this chip in his neck.

He ignored the phone. Whoever was trying to contact him would have to wait. The night was too perfect, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gazed out at the stars.

It was so serene. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine he was outside, floating face up towards the Milky Way. But he wasn’t going to close his eyes and imagine that, because it wasn’t real. And he didn’t know when he would even get that opportunity again, if ever.

And besides, if he closed his eyes, how would he look up at the stars?

His phone went dim, leaving him once again submerged in the darkness of the night.

The stars were too far away. Maybe if he tried, he might be able to at least drag himself onto his roof.

But what if he couldn’t? Did he even want to try, knowing he was likely to fail? Would he be able to handle that kind of defeat?

It was no use. He would just have to ask his parents to take the chip out in the morning. Surely they had safety-proofed the lab by now, hadn’t they? If they were so worried about Danny being hurt? It must have been a top priority for them.

But then why hadn’t they done that during the two months Danny had been in and out of the hospitals? Why wait?

Unless…

Stop it.

It was preposterous to think that his parents would lie to him about this. After all, what was the point of keeping Phantom locked up? They knew it was hurting him to be separated from his ghost core for so long. Surely they were going to take the chip out as soon as possible.

Right?

The phone lit up again, snapping Danny out of his thoughts. Whoever was trying to contact him this late could certainly wait till morning. If Danny hadn’t picked up the first time, then what made them think he was going to answer now?

He snatched the stupid device off his nightstand, fully intending on shutting the damn thing off, but froze. There, displayed perfectly on the caller ID, was the name of someone he hadn’t thought about in months:

Vlad Masters

His blood ran cold. Vlad? Why him? Why now? As far as Danny knew, he’d kept his distance since the court case. Of course, Danny had known that he was the one financing the entire lawsuit—Danny wasn’t an idiot—but he assumed it was either Vlad’s attempt at either reconciling his own stupid guilt or, the more likely scenario, that it was Vlad’s way of making sure the Guys in White couldn’t keep their grimy little hands on Danny’s halfa biology.

Either way, Danny assumed that Vlad would have enough tact to know to stay the hell away from him.

But Vlad was never one to uphold unspoken boundaries, now was he?

Danny’s finger lingered over the end call button just a moment too long.

Although his stay with the government had changed him, his poor decision-making skills and teenage impulsiveness had unfortunately survived these past few months.

Danny jabbed the answer button and whipped the phone up to his ear.

“What do you want, Plasmius?”

---

As always thank you so much to @imekitty for beta-ing this fic. If you like this fic, check out her fics on ffn, they are very angsty and brilliantly written!

Thanks for reading!

---

#danny phantom #phandom #phicc #my writing #everything was white #chapter 10

70 notes · View notes

nicetomeetmew · 3 years

Text

If LU was an anime (VA headcanons)

Okay so! A while back I uploaded a video (which you can find here) giving the LU boys voice actors. And in the description of said video, I promised that I was going to post a list of explanations for my voices and link it. Which I am only doing now.

These choices, bar a few, are my own personal opinion, so I'd love to hear your thoughts about them! I spent far to long working and watching anime for this but I am pretty happy with the end result, bar one (glares at Four). So I hope you enjoy! And prepare yourself. Cause this is LONG.

Legend - Vic Mignoga (Edward Elric from Fullmetal Alchemist and Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood)

So fun fact. Back when I first discovered LU, I almost immediately imaged Leg with this voice. He had strong Ed vibes for me and when I started making this list, he was the only one I immediately knew was perfect. At least to me. It just has that quality; the snark with the capability of being genuine and emotional (I do apologise if the voice clips I included in the video made you sad. That's a hazard of FMA). I didn't consider anyone else for Legend, even though I did briefly consider Vic Mignoga for Warriors (more on that later).

Sky - Aleks Le (Zenitsu Agatsuma from Demon Slayer)

Man, I considered a fair few KnY voices for this list, including the voice of Tanjiro for Wild and the voice of Giyu for Twilight. But this is the one that stuck. I was struck between Sky having a youthful, soft voice or an older, soft voice (I knew his voice had to be soft. I mean. It's Sky.)

I watched the dub of Demon Slayer solely for this and it never would've occurred to me to consider Zenitsu's voice for Sky. But as the show progressed and I heard it when he wasn't... you know... begging some poor lass to marry him, I realised he actually has quite a soft voice. And when I heard it get all serious I thought "Yep. That works." And thus I placed Aleks Le as the Chosen Hero. You could argue that his voice is a bit too youthful for him but I still think it works.

Wind - Amanda Miller (Boruto from Boruto: Naruto Next Generations)

Ugh. Ugh. *increasing sounds of disgust*. I hate this.

But let's start from the beginning. Right off the bat, I was 99.9% sure Wind would be voiced by a woman. Okay so he's not 10 (that will make more sense in a second), but he's still pretty young and I imagine him with quite a youthful voice. For him, I considered Sarah Natochenny, the current voice of Ash Ketchum in Pokémon, and also Colleen Clickenbeard's voice for Monkey D. Luffy in One Piece. But these two voices shared the same problem. They were too raspy. I just cannot see Wind with a raspy voice. I guess if you really, really, really focus on it it could work but I just could get it to work for me hfff.

And then... ugh. I spoke to a mate about. He doesn't know about LU so I just told him I was making voice headcanons and couldn't think of a good one for a 14 year old boy. And he said "have you heard Boruto's English voice?" And I think my response was something along the lines of, "Ben, I have standards." But he insisted it would probably work so I watched a clip of Boruto on YouTube and much to my horror, it did seem to work. But there was problem. None of the clips had lines I could picture Wind saying. And because of that I was struggling to actually give Wind the voice. But something told me that it was the right one so... I... *shudders*... watched Boruto. I watched I think 5 full episodes before I had no more braincells and skipped thorough a bunch more and sure enough, I could finally see Wind with that voice. I think it fits him great and it honestly might be my favourite choice just because I had to watch that nightmare.

Hyrule - Justin Briner (Izuku Midoriya from My Hero Academia)

Ah. This one is much more pleasant. First of all, I never realised this at first but Midoriya and Hyrule are kind of similar. For one thing, they do kinda look alike. And for another they have the same "I will never give up" kinda thing going on.

Roolie is another one I knew would have a soft voice. I think Justin Briner was always down as a choice for him, except for when I briefly considered him for Four (more on that later *big sigh*). This is another anime I watched the dub for solely for this and there were a ton of lines right from the get go I could instantly imagine Roolie saying. So yeah. Aside from the tiny moment I almost assigned Justin Briner to Four, this was a pretty easy one. Midoriya has a soft voice that I could easily imagine Hyrule having. And when he got angry and his voice got harsher, I could also easily see Roolie like that too. Fun fact: there's another BNHA voice on this list... heh.

Wild - Michael Sinternklaas (Dagger from Black Butler)

AW YEAH. YOU HAVE BEEN DIAGNOSED WITH BRITISH BOI.

Ahem. Anyway. Yes Wild is British. Everyone rejoice. I was unsure of how people would react to this but I think this is the only voice on the list everyone agreed on. Which I'm happy about.

As I mentioned, I considered the English voice of Tanjiro (Zach Aguilar) for Wild. There were issues with this; mainly that it was too soft, too young, and made him sound too similar to Sky. Now here's the thing. I WANTED to give Wild a English accent. I am almost certain he would have one, like most people. However the only anime I could think of with decent English accents was Black Butler (and yes I know his final voice is from it, bear with me) and there was a problem with that. Most of the voices from Black Butler are ridiculously posh. Now you may be thinking "But Kai, Zelda has a posh English accent" and to that I would say "Ah yes but she's a princess and Wild is not". And now you might be thinking "But Kai, he's a knight an probably spent a lot of time in a place with posh English accents". To which I would say "But he wasn't always". Two words. Hateno Village.

Let me explain.

I feel like a lot of people hear the words 'English accent' and immediately think of an accent like Zelda's (and no, I am not saying everyone does and I'm also not implying that there aren't people out there who aren't British and know that there are multiple accents). Anyway, English accents are different depending on the place. And, since one can assume Wild is from Hateno Village, I would imagine their accent is different to that of those born in Castle Town. So that's why I was reluctant to give Wild a voice from Black Butler. Because all the voices that weren't insanely fancy were either far too old or did not have the right vibe.

Then one day, taking a break from this, I was watching season 3 of Black Butler (one of the only anime I watch dubbed) and I heard two voices that I suddenly thought, hang on just a second. One of those was the voice of Ronald Knox, who's a grim reaper. And the other, of course, was Dagger. I was leaning towards Dagger and what sold me was one scene in particular, which I chose as the final voice clip for Wild (you cannot tell me that is not exactly something he would say). And that was it. But Wild's was easily one of the most frustrating (not the most *glares at Four again*).

Time - David Matranga (The Father from Wolf Children)

Another tough one and also one I heavily considered for Twilight (for obvious reasons). Time's was kind of tricky because I knew I wanted it to be deep but there's such of variety of deep voices. At one point I even considered dumping the deep voice idea because it was so hard. It was a this time I thought of the voice of space cowboy extraordinaire, Spike Spiegel. But my brain said "hell no". There were other voices I considered for him, loads of which I cannot find the notes for and another one which will likely appear in part two as another character (no spoilers), but when I was picking a voice for Twi, some of the lines the father said just kept ringing big old Time vibes with me. So in the end, I decided to for it. Like I said, I imagine time with a deep voice and while to father's might be a bit more... gravelly (?) than I imagined, I think it fits him pretty well. It's serious and mature but still a certain kindness I'd imagine Time's voice to have.

Warriors - Johnny Yong Bosch (Ichigo Kurosaki from Bleach)

Don't lie. You knew Johnny Yong Bosch was gonna be on here and not just because I put his name (albeit spelled incorrectly) in the thumbnail. When I started making this, I knew I wanted to fit JYB into it. In my mind, LU would be an amazing anime and almost all amazing anime have Johnny Yong Bosch in it.

Now, I spent a lot of time trying to figure out whether he would be better for Wars or Twi. At one point I was convinced he would be best for Twi and that's when I briefly thought about Vic Mignoga for Warriors (his voice for Tamaki Suoh from Ouran High School Host Club. Don't tell me Tamaki and Wars aren't at least a tiny bit similar). But I could bear to part with Vic for Legend so I decided heck it, Johnny is Warriors and I'll find someone else for Twi later. As for the voice in particular, the two voices I considered for Twi definitely did not fit Wars. And then I remembered Bleach and immediately I thought "Yep. That's the one". I imagine Warriors having an authoritative voice, not too deep and very... uh... I don't know the right word. Clean sounding? Anyway, Ichigo just seemed to fit nicely and thus it was so.

Four - Micah Solusod (Yukine from Noragamai)

Ugh. UGH. Okay. This is my least favourite. Four was, excuse my French, A FUCKING NIGHTMARES. There was not ONE SINGLE VOICE that seemed to work for him at all. I watched a bit of the Noragmai dub because I was thinking about Yato's voice for someone (I can't remember who. It might have been Wild) and I heard Yukine's and decided to put it into reserve. As in, my last resort. And I had to use it. Oh my god Four. I love you but your voice is literally a nightmare. Is it high? Is it low? Is it young sounding? Surprisingly grown up sounding? I DON'T FREAKING KNOW.

I mentioned earlier that I considered Justin Briner for him. I was thinking about his voice for Luck from Black Clover, which may have honestly worked a bit better, but I was pretty attached to Justin as Roolie by this point. So I had to whip out Micah.

Let me be clear. No, I do not think this works well at all. I appreciate the people who tried to see that good in it, but I honestly just don't think it works. The only reason I went for it is because Yukine's voice switches between older sounding and younger sounding throughout the show and since I could decide what Four's would sound like I said to myself "Fine. Four can be the same", found some clips, slapped it together and never looked back.

I am still looking for another voice for Four and if I find a decent one, I will include it in part two.

And last but not least...

Twilight - Aaron Mitchell Dismuke (Tamaki Amajiki - My Hero Academia)

Told ya there was another BHNA voice.

So Twi was another tricky one. As I mentioned, I was seriously considering Johnny Yong Bosch for him. More specifically, his voices for Giyu Tomioka from Demon Slayer and Kiba from Wolf's Rain (for obvious reasons). I did almost go for Kiba but something was stopping me. I'm honestly not sure what.

So I was talking to a mate (and by that I mean I rambled. A lot) about VA's and at one point he suggested Aaron Mitchell Dismuke but not for Twilight. I can't actually remember who he suggested it for but anyway, that didn't work out. But when I was looking through his work, I saw that we played Amajiki and I was curious. I listened to him and I liked it.

Okay to be fair I wanted a country accent for Twi. Of course I did. But I could not a find a decent one. They few I found were absolutely terrible. So I gave up on that and decided that was Amajiki. And that was that.

And that concludes the Links VA headcanons! I am happy with most of them and once more these are my opinion but I would love to hear your own ideas!

As I have said many times, I am working on a part two and as a sneak peak (sort of) I'll tell you two of the characters that will be featured (excluding Four, if I find him another voice).

Dink (even though he hasn't, technically shown up yet) and Malon (which is proving to be a lot tricker than I thought). There a couple more but my lips are sealed heh.

Oh and speaking of Dink, the voice I considered for Time and then thought it would be better for someone else? Yeah that's the voice that's currently in the lead to be Dink's :)

I hope enjoyed my long winded explanations! And thank you for reading/watching!

#phew #well that was fun #legend's is my favourite I think #closely follow by wild and maybe sky or wars #and like i said im very happy with wind because *ow*#linkeduniverse #linked universe #hehe... part 2...

34 notes · View notes

xxrat--punkxx · 3 years

Text

Just watched the monster hunter movie w like super low expectations lmao

Yeah it was pretty shit lol. It was exactly what I expected, from a movie standpoint it was pretty... eh. Rly nothing special on the story and characters front, literally rly forgettable. I did kinda like the hunter tho, found him sweet at points and I liked that. In terms of accuracy? Uh 👀💧 no💓. Yeah it was... bad. Literally made a game of ‘tally for each thing thing they got wrong’, the whole thing w rathalos and ‘oh he’s invincible’ just because he’s the poster boy was understandable, but god is it cliche for video game movies to pull that shit. Like can yall actually stay true to the source material for fuckimg once?

That being said it wasn’t awful, the visuals. Ohhhhhh FUCK ME they were cool. Seeing rathalos and diablos rendered to that quality was so fucking cool. The way she realistically moved through the sand MMMMMM literally amazing, not to mention they used her in game roar which was extra points (tho they only used it once??). But I gotta say my favourite part was literally the fucking background characters, the handler and the two other A-listers u meet first in the game. They literally got those costumes 100% accurate and UGH idk man it was rly cool and it was a little like ‘OH FUCK ITS THE BOIS’ and yeah Idk that was fun. Why the admiral look like that tho 👀💧.

forgettable but cool at the same time, overall? ‘can we please get an accurate video game to movie adaptation for fucking once, I’m looking at u gearbox’/10

#I was rly curious ok #it was like ‘ohhh this is a thing... unfortunately’#yeah it was t good or bad #it was so meh #I would have loved to see her team survive and try to brave the new world as a team #like idk have them argue over weapons n shit #also duel blade supremacy thank u #text #cursed #monster hunter #monster hunter world #monster hunter rise #monster hunter movie

11 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Pretty in Pearls, Chapter 3 (Jankie) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 💄| previous chapters

A/N: hi! I was going to update earlie but things happened...... so here's a new chapter. I hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading it <3

-3-

It was late when they went back to their room, Jan had only two classes in the afternoon but Rosé had one in the morning, yet, they talked for what it felt like hours and Jan only stopped speaking to read Jackie’s message. She was very happy. During that day she had made several friends –something she couldn’t have imagined a week before- she had met some of her professors and attended a couple of classes so she wouldn’t feel as nervous the following day.

In the morning she heard cursing in whispers when Rosé’s alarm went off announcing she had to get ready to go to class. After the girl left, Jan had the room for herself. She laid in bed watching videos on Instagram for a while and then decided it was a good moment to take a shower and get a cup of coffee.

Tuesdays were her lightest days and she could get used to it. She felt fresh out of the shower, braided her hair, and put on some clean clothes before walking out of the dorms.

On her way out she crossed paths with Nicky and who seemed to be her roommate. The girl had orange long hair and a great amount of makeup on but that worked perfectly on her. She also wore high waist pants with a turquoise loose blouse and dangling earrings. Nicky looked as great as the day before with a mauve off-the-shoulder mini dress and a high ponytail.

“Jan!” She waved at her.

“Hi, Nicky! How are you?”

“I’m doing good, thank you.” She smiled at her. “This is Crystal, my roommate. Crystal, this is Jan, the friend I talked you about.”

“Hi!” Crystal greeted Jan with a lot of energy. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Crystal. Well, I kind of feel like I know you through your room.”

“Oh, God…” She blushed. “I’m not taking the One Direction poster off, I already told Nicky.”

“I swear Niall’s eyes follow me whenever I’m in the room.” Nicky shivered.

Jan giggled.

“I have to go, I’m already running late.” Crystal said while checking the time on her phone. “See you guys later.”

“Don’t forget your keys…” Nicky reminded her.

Crystal pulled a key set with tons of colorful keychains. “Never again. Bye, Jan.”

“Bye!”

After the girl left, Nicky looked at Jan. “You missed a great dinner yesterday.”

“Oh, I imagine but I needed to spend some quality time with my roommate. But I’m still craving Thai food since it was mentioned.”

“There’s no choice, we’ll have to go back soon.”

“Please.”

“Are you heading to class?”

“No, I have my Tuesday mornings free. I was getting some coffee, actually.”

“Ugh, lucky you. I have a class in thirty minutes. Do you mind if I get coffee with you?”

“Sure, that’s great because I was going to google where the café is, I have no idea.”

Nicky just smiled. “I’ll show you the way.”

They walked for a couple of minutes; Nicky pointed to the café’s exterior when they got closer. As soon as they got in the smell of freshly brewed coffee embraced them. Autumn was around the corner and college students demanding pumpkin spice lattes prematurely were flooding the place.

Luckily for them, the line moved fast and the barista quickly took their orders. Jan ordered decaffeinated –because she wasn’t technically allowed to drink coffee after that one incident on St. Patrick’s day- but she compensated it with a lot of sugar and whipped cream. Nicky, on the other hand, asked for an iced Americano.

While they were waiting sitting at a little table, Jan recognized the familiar figure of the one person from her hometown she so badly wanted to see.

“Oh my God…” She suddenly felt coy when he started walking in their direction.

“Janie!” He greeted the girl but his eyes went directly to Nicky who was unimpressed while on her phone.

“Hi, Nathan.”

The name rang a bell for the blonde girl who looked up.

“How are you doing?” He rested half of his arm on almost all the table’s surface.

“Oh you know… just chilling before classes. I have Tuesday mornings free.” She tried to sound chill, smooth even.

“Cool…” He kept staring at the other girl a little too much. “Who’s your friend?”

“Ah, yes… this is Nicky, she’s in the same dorm as I am… Nicky, this is Nathan, he’s…”

“A friend from New Jersey.” He extended his hand to shake Nicky’s but the girl glared at him.

At that moment, their names were called by the barista.

“I’ll get the coffee.” Nicky rushed to leave the table. “Salaud…” She murmured before going.

Jan was thankful because now she had some time to speak with Nathan alone.

“So how’s the-”

“Janie, your friend is smoking and she’s French or something, right? That’s hot. Do you think you could set us up?”

Jan’s spirit sank. She should’ve guessed.

“Uh… I don’t think she’d be interested. She’s already dating someone.”

“What a shame because she’s one hundred percent eye candy.” His gaze followed Nicky’s curves.

“Besides, I thought you liked that girl you met yesterday,” Jan mentioned shyly.

“Abby? She’s alright I guess but this is week one, I have to keep my options open, you know?” He shrugged. “Can’t wait to hit the baseball field next week again, huh?”

“Yes! I’m so excited about it, actually-”

He threw his backpack over his shoulder. “I gotta run, Janie.”

“Oh, okay… see you.”

“Tell your friend that if she ever needs a rebound…” He left, still looking in Nicky’s direction.

Jan tried to smile but she ended up with a weird grimace.

The blonde returned to the table when he was away.

“Here’s your drink…” She tried to put a real smile on the girl’s face but she failed. “Jan, what is it? Did he tell you something?”

“Oh, no… it’s nothing.” She took a sip of her sweet beverage but didn’t enjoy it as she intended. “It’s just Nathan being Nathan…”

Nicky bit her tongue to avoid telling her he seemed like an asshole.

Jan looked at Nicky, of course he’d be interested in her. She was beyond gorgeous and she was stylish as hell with her pretty dress and makeup while Jan had barely washed her face and put on the first pair of joggings and a graphic t-shirt she found in her drawers.

“I bought you a cookie.” She slid the little chocolate treat in front of her.

“Aw, Nicky… thank you.”

Nicky squeezed her shoulder.

“I have to go to class but I don’t want to leave if you’re feeling down.”

Jan shook her head. “No, I’m fine, really…”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep, I’ll go to the library or drop by the copy room to annoy Jackie a little.”

“She’s in class during the mornings, someone else is running the copy room in the mornings.”

Jan sighed. “The library is then.”

“Always exciting.” Nicky checked the time on her watch. “Now I really have to go. See you later, dear.” She blew a kiss in the air.

“For sure.” She smiled to show Nicky everything was alright even when it wasn’t.

But enough of being pitiful, she had a cup of coffee, a cookie, and the sun was shining outside. She had this.

The library turned out to be a great place to spend some spare time between classes. Jan met the librarian –Mrs. West- who was probably one of the sweetest people she had ever seen and she was kind enough to explain Jan the rules –besides keeping it low in the study and reading area- Jan walked directly to a free desk and pulled out her computer. She needed to check if she was registered correctly on her classes once again just to be sure and she had to revise if her teachers from the previous day had left some new reading –they did.

She read the two papers and prepared a little draft for the next class before she noticed, it was almost noon. Nicky had said Jackie had classes in the morning but maybe she was free already, so Jan pulled out her phone and typed a quick text.

To Jackie C.: Hi Jackie! Nicky told me you were in class I was wondering if you’re out already, I can drop by the copy room :D

The reply arrived a minute later.

From Jackie C.: I’m already out and heading to the copy room, I’ll be there in no time.

And with that, the girl picked up her things and walked following the map that was scribbled over. She rushed toward the copy room in a way that her former high school teacher would’ve scolded her for« running in the hallways». Finally, she opened the door of the room carefully.

“Hello…?” She walked in.

“I’m over here.” Jackie had a little closet in the corner open. “I’m picking some toner for the machine. I swear, every morning it’s the same, Yvie forgets to change it every time and I have to-”

Jackie smiled as soon as she saw Jan waving in front of her.

“Hi, there.”

“Hi! Thank goodness you’re out of class I was so bored… Well, I was being «productive» or something like that –I’m guessing it’s something college students aspire to be- but then the internet of the library started malfunctioning and I got distracted with the little T-Rex game –do you know which one? With his little jumps and tiny arms, it was so cute- and then I wasn’t being productive anymore so…”

“It’s so good to see you again.” Jackie shook her head.

“How was your morning?” She moved closer to the counter.

Jackie pointed at the chair next to her and Jan sat there.

“All of my classes are during the mornings; that’s how I get to work here after I’m done with them.” She explained while changing the copy machine’s toner. “On Tuesdays, I have this one class with a professor that absolutely despises everything I say because –and listen to this- «I try to push a gender agenda» on his classes.” She scoffed. “Only because they don’t mention women in art centuries ago it doesn’t mean that they weren’t there… it’s ridiculous.”

Jan listened to Jackie ranting for ten minutes about the class, the girl was fuming but there was something entertaining about seeing her mad and the way she gestured as if it was a Ted talk… not to mention she did it all while doing the maintenance work of the printers.

“I’m sorry, I really went off with it…”

“No! It’s okay. I don’t know much about art and listening to you is like actually taking a class… but more engaging because you’re pissed and it shows.”

“Yeah… I have to tone it down in class or that… professor… is going to fail me.” Jackie let a big sigh out of her chest. “Anyway, I’m sure Nicky told you about last night’s dinner…”

“Yes! I wanna eat Thai food so badly now… Nicky is great by the way, she’s very nice and helped me a lot with the dorm things. Thank you so much for introducing me to her and Jaida.”

“No worries. They all liked you the moment they met you anyway.”

Jan beamed and blushed a little.

“So, you met your roommate…”

“Oh, right! My roommate, Rosé, is great… we got along like, instantly and she’s a theatre major so now I’m sharing the dorm with a Broadway fangirl. It’s going to be fun.”

“Wait, isn’t that the girl with the pink hair? I’ve seen her a couple of times I think.”

“Yeah, she thought you were very serious.”

“Don’t tell anyone I’m nice, I have a reputation to keep.”

Jan giggled. “But you are nice! I can’t believe people think otherwise.” She snapped her fingers. “You know what, I’m having lunch with her right now. I have a class at one so I was going to head to the cafeteria, why don’t you come with me?”

“I’d love to but I have to stay a little longer before taking my lunch break. If you have a class at one you better hurry before it gets too crowded there.”

“Oh, that’s too bad… I’ll get going there but… text me later?”

“Sure.” Jackie smiled at her.

“Okay, have a nice day! See you later!” The younger waved on her way out.

“Bye, Jan.”

At lunch, Jackie sat with her friends and while she tried to finish reading a museum review of a new exhibition, she got a text message from Jan telling her how boring the class was. Jackie shook her head and replied back to her shortly after.

Widow was next to her chatting with Heidi, Jaida was sitting across the table typing on her phone until Nicky arrived so the quick smile that appeared on her face went unnoticed –thank goodness.

“Bonjour, mon rayon de soleil.” Nicky kissed her on the cheek.

“I’ll pretend I understood every word… hi, baby.” She kissed her back.

The blonde sat next to her and they shared a lovey-dovey look.

“I want what they have,” Heidi whispered while looking at their friends. “What does take to get a girlfriend here? I’m in the art department, it should be easier.”

Widow cackled.

“I thought you had retired from the dating world when Janelle Monáe blocked you on Instagram.”

“Okay, listen… I was nothing but respectful to Miss Monáe, I still don’t understand the reason behind that blocking but yeah…”

“Heidi you don’t want to date, you’re just horny.”

The girl gasped. “How dare you?”

“Because… you can’t keep your interest on one person for more than a week.” Jackie pointed.

“I think you’re better off single.” Widow agreed.

“Excuse me… I came here to have lunch and a lovely chat not to be attacked like this.” Heidi crossed her arms on her chest. “Unbelievable.”

They didn’t say a word.

“You may be right though…” She finally admitted.

“Oh! You know who should get a girlfriend…” Jaida glanced at the brunette in front of her.

Jackie sighed. “We’ve been through this yesterday… I already told you she’s out of the conversation.”

“I didn’t give any names though,” Jaida smirked. “You did that to yourself.”

Jackie blushed. “Whatever… I’m too busy to date anyway.”

“But you’d make an exception for a special someone, wouldn’t you?” Nicky pushed.

“She’s straight.”

“So it��s pasta until it gets hot and wet.” Heidi pointed.

“Heidi!”

The table burst into laughter.

“Enough with that, I’m serious. The last thing I want is Jan to feel awkward, she already has a lot on her plate.”

“Right, all jokes aside… I met the guy she pines after this morning…” Nicky started gossiping. “and my goodness he’s even worse than what I pictured… a jerk with capital letters. I think he was trying to get my number through Jan.”

They all made a disgusted sound in response.

“No fucking way…” Heidi’s mouth dropped.

“She deserves better and I don’t even know her personally.” Widow stated.

They agreed, especially Jackie who had seen the guy the day before breaking Jan’s heart in just a matter of seconds.

“Maybe meeting new people will help her seeing beyond his… spell?” Jaida raised an eyebrow.

“He’s not that charming, trust me.” Her girlfriend assured, basing her opinion on the –hopefully- only encounter they had. “But anyway… Crystal has classes until four…” She looked at Jaida with bedroom eyes. “would you like to take a nap with me?”

Jaida caught the hint instantly. “See y’all later, bitches.” She stuck out her tongue and both left the table.

“Maybe I am just horny.” Heidi reflected before sipping her apple juice.

“Be honest with me, do you hang out with us because you like us, or is it part of your sociology thesis investigation?” Jackie asked Widow.

“Bitch, you’ll never know.” She chuckled.

A week had passed and with that, Jan had established a little routine: in the mornings she would go to the library –sometimes on her own, sometimes with her roommate or one of her classmates-, she had lunch at the cafeteria in rotating schedules –as if she was the loving child of a divorced couple- during the afternoons she was at the copy room whenever she had some spare time and when Jackie was there and afterward she’d have dinner with her and her friends or with Rosé. They all ended up having dinner together on Friday night so Jan was secretly hoping the group would merge into one big supergroup.

She had also become close with Jackie’s friends including Widow of whom she had heard a lot but was formally introduced to a few days later and with Crystal, Nicky’s roommate who shared the struggles of being a freshman like her. Plus, she met one of Rosé’s friends from her musical comedy class as well, a girl called Lagoona that adopted Jan immediately and kept teaching her Spanish words.

On the weekend she watched cartoons wearing pajamas with the girls from her dorm in the lounge room and then completed some assignments for her classes with Crystal at the same place.

On Monday, however, she was extra excited –more than usual- because it was the day she was going to play baseball again. She could almost smell the grass of the field, the rubber of her sneakers, and the leather material of the ball… She could picture herself running around scoring like no other.

And because she was so thrilled, time seemed to pass slower than ever.

“Jackie…” She cried while sitting on her –now- regular reserved spot behind the countertop. “I still have to wait another two hours…”

“Two hours are almost nothing, c’mon.” The brunette was in the middle of copying a Shakespeare play for a group of students from the Literature department. “Besides, it’s not like it’s been years since the last time you played.”

“It’s been like two months.” She pouted. “Two long never-ending months.” She dragged the words to make emphasis on her sadness.

“But you survived.” Jackie pointed out before reaching for the staple on the shelf.

That day, Jackie was wearing a pleated plaid skirt with a knitted long sweater and mid-heel loafers. She moved smoothly in the limited space; Jan had memorized her moves by the time; she knew exactly when she had to lean back for the brunette to pass through while she mumbled something about Yvie not taking proper care of the machines or when she was fighting with the printer that didn’t mind for the students’ urgencies at all. She had also discovered that Jackie always hummed to California Dreamin’ no matter how often it played on the radio, that she liked gourmet jelly beans and that she had a stock of candy hidden somewhere -only she hadn’t found her secret spot yet.

“Hi, Jackie.” A girl hummed with a melodic voice as she rested her elbows on the countertop while batting her lashes overly.

Jackie, who was on her back stapling a final set of copies, took a deep breath as she recognized the owner of the voice right away.

“Hello, Vanessa.” She spun on her heels and faced the girl. “What can I do for you?” Her tone was deadpan.

Vanessa, the girl in question, was gorgeous with her long black hair perfectly curled, flawless makeup, and clothing; she was wearing a cropped pullover with the word «Angel» stamped on it a and pair of high-waisted jeans. She was tiny but she wasn’t scared of wearing high high-heels.

She flashed a dazzling smile as soon as Jackie turned around.

“Are you finally going to accept going on a date with me?” She blurted out.

Jan’s eyes got wide. Her type of courage was worth admiring, she was certainly fearless.

“No,” Jackie replied, coldly. “I’ve told you before; I’m not going to date you.”

Jan gasped but Vanessa didn’t even flinch. She just waved her hair and readjusted her pose.

Oh, she was about to say something, wasn’t she? Jan looked, expectant.

“Please…” She pouted. “Pretty please? You can’t say no to a pretty please.”

Jackie rolled her eyes. “There we go.” She shook her head and sighed. “Look, I’m not going to repeat the whole speech but if you have something for me to print or copy, I’m all ears.”

This time, Jan couldn’t keep it to herself. “Jackie!” She shouted and jumped off the chair.

The brunette turned toward her. “What? It’s Vanessa.” She said as if that was a fair justification.

Vanessa waved. “And who are you?” She looked at Jackie, then at Jan, and then at Jackie again. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“No.” Jackie blushed a little. “This is my friend, Jan. Jan, this is Vanessa she’s a sophomore that testes my patience since she was a freshman.”

“I worked very hard for that title.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Jan!” She shook her hand.

“Vanessa has an on and off long-distance relationship and she likes to flirt when she’s on the «off» side,” Jackie explained.

The girl shrugged. “Can you blame a girl for asking? I gotta try once in a while at least.”

Jan chuckled.

“Anyway, can you copy the marked pages of this textbook? I need it for class, you’ll be glad to know I didn’t come here exclusively to ask you out. Although…”

“Give me the book.” The brunette extended her hand to grab the object, Vanessa held it tightly for an instant but Jackie pulled it. “I’ll be done in a couple of minutes.”

“Thank you!” She smiled showing all her teeth. Then she turned back to Jan. “So Jan, is it…?”

“Don’t even try it!” Jackie yelled from the distance.

Once her shift was over, Jackie closed the copy room and walked around for a little before deciding to take a look at Jan’s baseball practice. She told herself it was okay to drop by, after all, she had been hearing about it all afternoon, she was curious now. But being honest, she had to ask around to find where the baseball field was –she didn’t even know their university had a women’s team before she met Jan- so she wandered through the corridors before finding the door that led to where they were playing.

The lights were on since their practice was after sunset and most students had classes during the day. The perimeter was surrounded by a chain-link fence so she guessed that was how close she could get to the field; she finally found a bleachers section -and she was one-hundred percent sure people smoked weed behind them.

She sat holding her purse against her chest. It seemed she made it just in time; it was Jan’s turn to bat. Even in the distance, Jackie had never seen the younger so focused on something as she was at that moment, it was like watching a completely different person. She moved into position and prepared.

She had the number eleven on the left sleeve of her striped uniform, purple socks on and a pair of shoes –already- covered in dirt. She adjusted her high ponytail under her cap before grabbing the wood bat with determination. Jan’s eyes were sharp as she tried to read into the pitcher’s moves.

Jackie had a shiver.

The pitcher threw the ball and she missed it, it went directly to the catcher’s glove. The brunette mouthed some curse. She had never been this invested in some sport.

Second attempt, she would get it this time. Jackie crossed her fingers, her heart was beating faster.

The pitcher threw the ball again and this time, it impacted against Jan’s bat making a thunderous noise that echoed everywhere. Jackie gasped, her eyes followed the girl’s figure as she ran as fast as she could before one of the players grabbed the ball from the ground. Now she knew her heart was about to break her ribcage, she couldn’t get herself to calm down. Jan was running and running like a roadrunner cartoon and she was about to make it when the players started passing the ball, maybe someone was going to catch her before she made it. But she was so close, just one more base to go. She ran, encouraged by her teammates, and drifted creating a cloud of dirt around the base.

She made it.

Home run.

“Yes! Yes!” Jackie cheered and raised her hands in the air.

Apparently, loud enough for the whole team to hear it.

Jan, who was bent over her knees, still out of breath due to her incredible race, grinned and waved as soon as she recognized Jackie. The brunette smiled back and clapped discreetly, even when she had just displayed such enthusiastic behavior.

The team -mainly the batter- had gained a new fan and the season hadn’t even started.

#rpdr fanfiction #jan sport #jackie cox #jankie #jaida x nicky #s12 #college au #lesbian au #slow burn #pretty in pearls #plastiquedoll #concrit welcome

4 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #427

“don’t pray for me when you’re the one enslaved”

Your ex taps you on the shoulder and says, “I still love you.” You say? I wouldn't say anything, I'm pretty sure I'd just break down. Do you play video games? Not really anymore. :/ I probably would, though, if I had the appropriate consoles for games I want. You can only replay PS2 games but so many times before you're tired of them. Do you spend a lot of time with family? No, honestly. Is your house more than two stories tall? It only has one floor. Have you ever hit your significant other? Has he/she ever hit you? I'm not in a relationship, but I have most certainly never hit an s/o, and they've never hit me. I wouldn't tolerate that shit. What makes you an attractive person? (Talk about your personality too!) I'm not. What color is your hairbrush/comb? White. What snacks do you have available in your household atm? Hm. Just some fruity grain and oats bars, as well as cashew ones. We try to keep sweets out of the house. Has anyone recently told you that they like you, or find you attractive? No. Are you attracted to the last person you Facebook messaged? Holy fuck yes, she's drop-dead gorgeous. Do you care about anyone that doesn’t care about you? Ha, I'm sure. Was your last Facebook friend requests from a male or female? Some random middle-aged man, like who are you sir. Which one of your relatives is most likely to embarrass you? My dad. He can be so rude to people sometimes. When was the last time you ate a bar of chocolate? Not sure. It's been quite a while. Do you play any games on Facebook? No. What would you like to get a degree in? It'd be nice to get a degree in Arts, but yeah... I'm never going back to school. Do you wake up a lot in the middle of the night? Pretty much every night. Would you prefer to read a book, watch a movie or TV show, or play a video game? Play a video game. Do you usually get popcorn or soda at the movie theater? Almost without fail. You've got to, it's part of the experience. What genre of films do you like the best? Horror. How many bank accounts do you have? None, actually. Have you ever had the flu? No, thankfully. What is your goal for the next few months? To start getting in shape/losing weight. I seriously hope this gym routine works out. Have you ever had some kind of sleep-disorder? How did it affect your life? I have seveeeere sleep apnea. It's shocking, I never would've guessed it, though, so the diagnosis (I had a sleep study, so yes, it's legit) was an extreme surprise. I don't snore at all, nor do I like pass out in the middle of something, but I stop breathing A LOT. For a year or two (no, that is not an exaggeration), it caused consistent, horrible, and violent nightmares/terrors. It made sleep frightening to me, and I was never getting a truly restful sleep. Now, I have an APAP mask (like a less extreme version of a CPAP mask) that helps me greatly. I only very rarely am surprised by a more subtle nightmare now. Have you ever had food poisoning before? Describe the experience. No, thankfully. What are two things that you have no problem paying full price for? Quality tattoos, for one. And maybe uhhh... idk. We're the kind of family that buys off-brand foods and drinks all the time because it's cheaper, so I can't say that. Maybe health care? Like I wouldn't want service from a sketchy dentist or something. Funny, charming, cute, romantic, smart - choose only 2 for the opposite sex. Charming and romantic. Have you ever let somebody use you? Why did you do it? No. You can go back in time & change something in your mom’s past - what is it? That's hard for me to say. She doesn't seem to like talking about her past very much, because I know it's turbulent with her mother. I would say her being disowned, but I don't know how that *actually* affected her. Maybe it was for the better she wasn't under her mom's authority anymore. Do you know anybody who is around the exact same size as you? Who? I guess my mom, but she's actually smaller than me now. She's lost a lot of weight and is still going at it. Ever been to a haunted house? How scared were you? Not a house, but rather hay rides and those places you just walk through and experience different stuff. They don't scare me at all; I love 'em. Been on any websites today you wouldn’t want your parents to see? No. Which is worse: dusting or mopping? Ugh, mopping. I don't mind dusting. Would you marry somebody who was intensely religious? No. Did you pull a senior prank? No. That shit is so dumb. Did you graduate? High school, yes. Have you ever been unfaithful in a serious relationship? No, and I never would. What was the last song you listened to? I'm listening to Lauren Babic and Halocene's cover of "Bleed It Out" by Linkin Park right now. It's great. Are you one of those lucky people with 20/20 vision? Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell no. Is fashion one of your interests? No. Do you think you’ll eventually find that special someone? Hell if I know. Do you care what people think? Way, way more than I should. Is acting something you enjoy? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. I feel so stupid. What was the last thing you broke/sprained? I tore a ligament badly in my foot maybe a year and a half ago. I was SO sure it was broken. My mom had to help me walk everywhere, and even when she did, I'd be whimpering and seething. Have you ever fought with a friend because of their boyfriend/girlfriend? Because of yours? No. Has a stranger ever yelled at you for your language? No. Whose house, other than yours and your families', are you most comfortable at? If we're excluding all family, I suppose Sara's? Has any of your friends’ family ever yelled at you? Probably at some point as a kid. Did you ever play a sport as a little kid? Did you enjoy it? I played a lot. The only two I really didn't like were soccer and cheerleading. Did you ever watch the show Full House? Hell yeah, I loved it as a kid. Is there a celebrity you are just DETERMINED to marry? Ha ha y'all know I joke about it, but no, not legitimately. It's not like I know him personally at all, and I'm not chasing him to California either. Just let me dream still lmao. Have you ever burned someone’s picture? No, but I've actually heard it's truly therapeutic and not just for dramatic effect, so I wouldn't be opposed to doing so if you handed me a picture of him and a lighter. What’s the longest hike you’ve ever been on? I've never hiked before. Would you ever get a lip tattoo? Uh, no. Who is the first person of the opposite sex that pops into your head? Jason. Do your parents smoke cigarettes? My dad smokes like a chimney and is 100% going to end up with cancer because of it. You should hear his cough. Mom smoked for a very, very brief period before I was born. What does one of your T-shirts have written on it? "Equal in our bones" is on my favorite shirt. Name a pet you definitely wouldn’t want. Certain inverts people are wild enough to get, like giant African centipedes in particular. Would you prefer your partner smaller or taller? Can't say I care. do you enjoy going through old pictures? Sometimes. Other times, it's too painful. It also depends on the era of the pictures. Do you believe people when they say they don’t judge people? Ha, no. We all have natural first impressions and things like that that just... happen. What did you love the most about the town you grew up in? Nothing, really... besides just childhood memories that inevitably came. My hometown was dangerous. What’s a movie that you laughed the hardest during? I'm not sure. What’s a movie you cried the hardest during? I want to say Old Yeller, but I'm not sure. What’s your favorite restaurant? Olive Garden and The Cheesecake Factory. Is there a dessert you don’t like? Yeah; I don't like pie, strawberry shortcake, and I know there're others. Favorite album? Ozzy's Black Rain. It was my introduction to metal, so there's nostalgic value there, but I also just LOVE every single song. What’s a book that you read because everyone else was reading it? None. I don't read books for that reason. Underwater or outer space? Both kinda frighten me to a degree, but I find outer space to be way cooler. So many colorrrrrrs. Dogs or cats? Cats. Kittens or puppies? Ugh, both are so cute, but I gotta hand it to kittens. Bird watching or whale watching? Whale watching would blow me away. Whales are such magnificent, awe-inspiring animals. What is your spirit animal? Probably a deer. Skittish, shy, and quiet. What was your best subject in school? English. What was your worst subject in school? Math. What is one thing you wish you knew in high school? You and Jason aren't going to last, hunty. Who is your fashion icon? I don't have one. I wear what I want/what's comfortable. Diamonds or pearls? I think diamonds are a lot prettier. What color dress did you wear to prom? First one was maroon, last one was black. What’s your favorite plot-twist? Silent Hill: Shattered Memories. My jaw actually dropped. Honestly, are you jealous of someone right now? Yes. Honestly, what’s the worst thing you’ve done when you were mad? Said things I shouldn't. Honestly, ever made anyone cry when you were mad? Yes. Honestly, when was the last time you REALLY cried your heart out? Two weeks ago or something like that. Ever pop someone else’s pimple? OH MY GOD NO alskdfa;wekrwer; Do you need to return anyone’s phone call? No. Who are you closest to? My mom. Have you ever had a bad concert experience? No. Are you currently sad about anything? A number of things. Have you had any form of exercise today? No, but tomorrow is day #2 at the gym! Can you handle blood? Yeah, np. Has any place hired you underage for a job? No. Have you ever carried a concealed weapon? No sir=ee. Are you currently searching for a job? Not anymore, at least not actively. I was going to after TMS, but I'm just... still not ready. Right now, I'm focusing on the gym and getting healthy again, but if the seemingly perfect job comes along, I'm not opposed to taking it up. Does eating breakfast make you sick? No, I've got to have breakfast or else THEN I feel awful.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''thoughts & prayers" by motionless in white

5 notes · View notes

xueyangs-pinky-finger · 3 years

Note

Mutual pining fics are soo good for wangxian because of all the meaningful stares and touches and gestures in cql 😪

Oh, I love BuzzFeed Unsolved!!! Even though I'm a scaredy cat and horror and true crime freak me out. Have you checked out Watcher, Ryan and Shane's new channel? They get up to more shenanigans there! They have this series called Puppet History which I LOVEEEE. If you watched Buzzfeed's Ruining History with Shane, this is like that but with more tomfoolery 😂

I once read a BuzzFeed Unsolved x The Untamed fic... Here it is, in case you're interested. It's a short one-shot but it was fun! https://archiveofourown(.)org/works/27241906

What are other fandoms (if any) that you like crossed over with The Untamed? like AUs or characters meeting or any type of crossovers!

Do you write fanfic? Is there any fandom activity that you wish you could do? Like art or music covers or fic, etc? I wish I could find the motivation these days to make piano covers of the Untamed soundtrack music!

- 🎵🦄

i definitely did not see anything and i definitely did not call it 🙈

very true~

omg same lol. i don’t do horror and true crime’s even worse in some ways... but i watch bun for the ~humor~ i am subscribed to watcher but i haven’t seen all of their videos... i’ve been enjoying the too many spirits series!! i haven’t seen much puppet history but i’ve gotta change that 😪

ah thanks, that was fun! i appreciate how they included wen ning’s canonical inability to not cause a ruckus lmao. & i’m always open to recommendations :)

hmm, idk bc i haven’t delved into that side of the fandom much yet... i will say i’ve got some ideas for crack vids/incorrect quotes that i’m excited about, lol. and i still stand by my earlier post about rly wanting a xuexiao good place au :// & i think it’s pretty fun when ppl make fanart and fics featuring tgcf characters, bc i love all of them~ i also rly wish there was a xue yang sour candy (blackpink & lady gaga) fmv, ha.

i used to write fics for a different fandom and then when i had to reread them to edit or write the next chapter i would cringe so much ahjdka. i used to fancy myself a good writer but that’s probably not true. & i don’t rly get the urge to write these days? even when i get an idea occasionally (*cough*xuexiao good place au*cough*), i’m just like ‘... can someone else do it? 😩’ lmao. i never planned my fics out or anything, i’d just get an idea, write it, and then edit it without rly adding or cutting out much. i always sucked at deleting my writing or rewriting something once it’d already been written~ ppl who write these incredible novel-length and quality fics that require so much thought and preparation... ugh, i’m just in awe of them!!

honestly it’d be cool to do anything, lol... write fics, sing, draw, play an instrument, make gfx, make rly smart thought-provoking posts, rly funny posts, know another language and be able to translate... but i guess we can’t all do everything (unless ur fricking,,, wang yibo or ten). ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i’m just happy i’m finally making good gifs, that’s probably... my biggest achievement of the year ahjdks. (though i still struggle with the coloring every time 😩) i’m also currently working on a dumb fanvid and just teaching myself as i go, so if that turns out it’ll be cool to have that format to work with too~ & i’d like to learn how to make nice gif gfx but i just have no idea where to start rn...

ah that’d be so cool! the ost’s soooo nice ugh. wuji instrumental and yeben are god-tier (and during my rewatch i’ve noticed yeben’s used in like all the most emotionally devastating scenes lmao truuu)~

do you write fics? have you gotten into mxtx’s other works at all?

#mdzsnetcc #love you pooja lol 💜✨

12 notes · View notes

unseelie-bitch · 3 years

Text

Season 3 Episode 21: The Golden Kingdom

[The quality on the episode is absolutely awful]

Also from the previously on: I'm still not over the fact they gave Techna a mullet. How dare you call this a glow up her old hair was SO MUCH CUTER like WHY is her enchantix hair a mullet... WHY

Why is it the entire Winx Club Vs Bloom

Oh shit she YEETED them

Thank god we're finally addressing the arranged marriage

Let's go to the golden kingdom lads

[The lip syncing is SO OUT]

Ugh this freak... please leave Layla alone

"Spy boy" YES STELLA

Aww Flora's lil video diary

Oh god the shot of Musa putting the cuffs on spy boy is gonna be found and subsequently misinterpreted by Riven isn't it

Oh my god I despise this man FUCK OFF AND LEAVE LAYLA ALONE

Ew why is he singing

And Riven's watching the video with Helia

"Oh looks bad. ...then again-" Helia you did your best but Riven is already gone

BONK and the Digit's gone

Yes Layla GRAB THAT EYESTALK

...let it go Layla LET IT GO

Lads maybe you should transform as soon as you land instead of waiting to be attacked. Just a thought

Love that these monsters keep punching people with their eyeballs

This shady ass bitch just yeeted away his handcuffs

Please don't make this man Layla's love interest you clearly are and he's almost certainly her fiancé but I just hate him

Flora just decomposed this monster "return to nature" my ass you rotted this man

Timmy's just chillin with Piff

YES PIFF HELP HIM FIX THE SHIP

Oh whaddup Riven

Riven is going on a Life Changing Adventure with Piff I'm so excited

A tree tower? Flora is quite literally in her element

Lol get wrecked Sky

Oop and now there's pegasus centuars

Oh look their spears conviniantly reflect the dragonfire... mayhaps you could... use that

Oh look. This man's going over to help Musa. I wonder who'll find them like that

Look Riven, I understand the writers are making you do this but Musa is injured this man is helping her - telling him to put her down is NOT productive

#winx rewatch #winx club

4 notes · View notes

tbhwhocaresanymore · 4 years

Text

Nancy Drew 1x14

I just got done watching Nancy Drew episode 14, the sign of the uninvited guest and before I get into spoiler details let me sum up my thoughts on the episode.

Holy fuck

Okay so we’re just gonna dive right in and to start off it turns out Tiffany Hudson was never the murder target? Instead, it was RYAN Hudson. Lucy’s brother Joshua was taking his mother to look at a new mental asylum but when they stopped for gas she stole the car and hightailed it over to the Claw, where she used to work. The spare key spot has apparently not been changed since the 90s and so she just let herself in, creeping everyone out. My biggest issue was her red eyes she looked like she hadn’t slept since she was a waitress.

Lara Tandy has awoken from her coma and is feeling totally zen after her near death experience and wants Ace to come to Paris with her. The entire time I was torn between “that would be so sweet” and “Ace don’t you fucking dare”. Nick picks up a stranded Joshua and brings him over as Nancy charts out everything they know about the Lucy/Tiffany murders. Patrice sees and starts muttering the Lucy Sable Murder Song (seriously who even started that) and then Dead Lucy (my creepy precious daughter) trashes the entire board except for one (1) image. A screenshot from Nancy’s video of Tiffany where Lucy first shows up.

Nancy and Ace and Lara go to the police precinct to get Tiffany’s cell phone data. Turns out Tiffany was going to rich sounding places like the yacht club, leaving her phone there, and walking to her real destination so they go to the library where she spent a few hours before she died. Side note, I would watch an entire episode about just Ace and the library politics. I want to hear more about capture the flag and Denise. Maybe they used to hack together and it went sour, maybe they were rivals from the get-go. I don’t know but I want to Find Out.

Ace manages to find what Tiffany was looking at: emails between Lucy Sable and Ryan Hudson circa 1999-2000. Most of them are lovey dovey including an actual “I think I might love you” until the end where Lucy asks Ryan to forgive her. Ryan says he will never forgive her, calls her a whore and says he hopes she dies. Then they arrange to meet the night of the Sea Queen ceremony. You know, that one little night when Lucy was murdered. Let’s take an environmental minute to talk about what we think happened. Lucy apparently did something unforgivable, and since they were in a relationship and he called her whore, there is one glaring idea: INFIDELITY. But Lucy loved Ryan. Now I’m going to go out on a limb here. What if Celia and Papa Hudson hired some guy (maybe Owen Marvin???) to seduce Lucy or something and then told Ryan. Or maybe Lucy felt awful and told him herself. OR on an even further limb, Lucy and Josh are only half-siblings. Maybe they’re going to go a la Riverdale and make Lucy and Ryan (DISTANTLY) related or something. Either way, Lucy did something she regretted and then Ryan found out.

As far as Lucy’s actual murder, during the seance when asked if the Hudsons killed her she said yes/no. Celia Hudson was in Argentina at the time but could have hired a hitman, Papa Hudson has no known alibi and already murdered a crew full of sailors including his wife’s boyfriend, Ryan Hudson had plans to meet with Lucy the night of her death “at our spot”. I am Strongly Suspicious their spot is the cliffs she died on. I think it’s a safe bet at this point to say Ryan was somehow involved in Lucy’s murder. He is a Hudson, they’d been dating and she betrayed him somehow, and they had plans to meet the night of her death at an undisclosed location. Now whether he is the one who physically murdered her, I don’t know. I suspect we will have more answers after finding out how Lucy died which we need her BODY FOR. Or at least her skeleton. We assume she was stabbed because of the bloody dress and also knife, but what if she wasn’t? What if it was an emergency C-section, what if someone else stabbed her already and Ryan just couldn’t save her, what if it was some kind of accident? And remember there was also that whole Ryan Is Being Haunted thing for the Velvet Masque. Lucy haunted him so she could use his wedding ring to show her death led to Tiffany’s. Maybe she specifically used Ryan because he caused her death, either directly or by accident.

Back to the episode, I liked seeing the entire walkthrough. I didn’t realize how much had happened off-screen that first episode. There is also the question of WHY it all happened off-screen, but considering the leaps and bounds of progress quality the writers have made I will give them a pass. When they first brought up the switched salad I wasn’t sure if they were being genuine, or if it was a part of their plan to trick Ryan, but when he and Nancy were outside and they were still talking about it I realized it was Legit.

Then that scene at the end, how Nancy managed to flip the switch from “oh hey Josh” to “holy fuck you killed Tiffany” so quickly was so in character. My girl is just so suspicious of absolutely everybody and her mind just JUMPS between puzzle pieces as fast as mine does but her brain actually stays on topic. I thought the fight scene was really well done, because Nancy was mostly improvising and trying to get away not fight, and his death was accidental. But I also want to see her take self-defense lessons or something at some point because at the rate she keeps almost dying it feels like the reasonable next step to take. Or at least like buy a switch blade. Have Nick make her a toothbrush shiv. SOMETHING.

MY PRECIOUS DAUGHTER. DEAD LUCY.

Okay guys, the part with the phone. I knew it was coming, and it was creepy, but now rewatching it I have to laugh because the first face she’s making during Nancy’s recording is really just a ghostly 😐. But then when she starts fucking crawling, now THAT was creepy. And then when she kept moving closer to Ryan with each lightning flash. (He CLEARLY had something to do with her death.) Epic. It makes me wonder how long did it take her to learn this ghost stuff, and what was she doing before Nancy found her dress? Just sulking around, maybe pulling the occasional Halloween scare. I would also watch a spin off of the 20 years where Lucy is just hanging around and dead.

Side theory. What if Patrice was somehow there that night? I have no evidence to back this up but she seemed very set on Lucy always being in the water and so maybe she saw her fall or something and that’s why she’s so crazy. Moving on.

To talk about the characters who are of course important. I didn’t entirely catch the whole Bess/Lisbeth/Amaya drama of the episode. I will say I like her with Amaya a lot more than Lisbeth for some reason because I can feel the chemistry a lot better with those two, and she and George had a nice talk at the end. SPEAKING OF GEORGE. I can see multiple ways the George/Nick/Nancy triangle could play out, let’s discuss some. A) George is about to confess her feelings to George right before learning he and Nancy have gotten back together. B) George is about to confess her feelings to Nick right before he tells her about his remaining feelings for Nancy and how much he Wants Her Back. C) George and Nick get together right as Nancy decides to fight for Nick. Let’s talk about this one for a moment. Promo for next week shows Owen Marvin (ugh) is going to be back (Ugh) and he and Nancy will kiss (UGH). Potential scenario, her and Owen are talking and he goes to kiss her and she lets him before pulling away and he says “why won’t you date me” and she says it just doesn’t feel right or her heart still belongs to Nick or something. Owen redeems himself before disappearing forever by telling Nancy to fight for Nick. Problem is Nick has seen the kiss but not Nancy stopping it and leaves, angry, because he was about to ask her to get back together or because he thought they had an Understanding or something. He goes to George who asks him out and he says yes and Nancy finds out and puts on a happy face and then leaves to go cry. God I really want to write fan fiction for this show but I CAN’T until Lucy’s murder is solved. Let me know how you guys think it will play out. Speaking of Nancy x Nick whom I love and adore, that part at the end when the cops and Nick had showed up. He said like less than ten words the entire time but his concern was just SEEPING out of him, and he so clearly like wanted to hold her but held himself back because he feels it is not his place anymore. I also find it telling that just as Bess is telling George to come clean to Nick, he is with Nancy.

In totally expected news, I am still pining for Victoria. Writers, please bring her back. I haven’t seen her since the seance episode and I Miss Her.

I have absolutely no idea what happened to Joshua’s body don’t even ask me. However I AM hopeful he has turned into a ghost and will have to be banished requiring VICTORIA.

I am SO excited for next week’s episode, the terror of horseshoe bay. It looks awesome and spooky and creepy and we will hopefully find Lucy’s body. Owen will be there which is Unfortunate but I am sure I can cope because Lucy will also hopefully be there and Nancy like spits out ghostly teeth at one point which is so metal. Since the season is getting close to wrapping up and Tiffany’s murder is officially closed, Lucy’s murder is the only major plot left, so I am curious what they will do for next season. I am hoping they will start laying the groundwork for it this season, but I also don’t want them to just drag out the Lucy Sable storyline for ages upon ages. (I’m looking at you Pretty Little Liars with your like five fucking As.) I’m interested in if it’s one or two murders again, or if it’s like one main murder but then with a bunch of mini mysteries sprinkled in a la the serial poisoner episode. I am thinking (wishing) as far as college goes, maybe Nancy applies and gets into Columbia but she decides to stay and open up some sort of paranormal/normal investigative service with Dead Lucy as her receptionist and Nick as her literary loving arm candy and the others can help upon request or something and eventually join. Let me know if you think Nancy will manage to clear her dad’s name or if he’ll actually be indicted. CANNOT WAIT.

#Nancy Drew #Nancy Drew cw #George Fan #Bess Marvin #Ned Nick Nickerson #Nancy x Nick #Nick x George #Dead Lucy #Lucy Sable #Ryan Hudson #Tiffany Hudson #the sign of the uninvited guest #the terror of horseshoe bay

29 notes · View notes

notaparty-trick · 4 years

Text

All Those Senseless Scars - Chapter 1

By @notaparty-trick for @asyouleft

@friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Rating: T

Relationships: Tony Stark & Peter Parker, May Parker & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker, Pepper Potts, Michelle Jones, Ned Leeds

Summary: There is a rule to the way Peter lives now. He didn’t know it at first, but he learnt it.

It’s simple.

To earn what he needs to survive, he has to make sacrifices. --- Peter Parker's life is derailed when he's kidnapped and kept in a white-tiled room with nothing: no windows, no cameras, no food, no water, no phone, nobody else. Only his own thoughts keep him from losing his mind. If he asks for anything, he must take punishment. Tony Stark will stop at nothing to bring him home.

Archive Of Our Own link here

There is a rule to the way Peter lives now. He didn’t know it at first, but he learnt it.

It’s simple.

To earn what he needs to survive, he has to make sacrifices.

---

When he wakes up, he knows he’s been out for a long time. There’s a cotton-wool quality to his train of thought.

He’s in a white cell.

And he’s completely naked.

“Oh my God, oh - what the…?”

He rushes to get up from the floor and cover himself, jamming himself into a corner. “Shit.”

His heart judders violently in his chest. There’s nothing to see, nothing at all, nothing but the white tiled walls of his prison. No window. No camera. No food, no water, no guards, no clothes, oh God.

What did they do while I was out?

But he isn’t in any pain that he can notice. Even with his enhanced healing, it’s unlikely he was asleep for long enough for complete healing to take place, so he thinks - he thinks - he’s safe in that respect.

Not in any other.

He’d been in the Spider-Man suit when they took him; the fact that his mask is no longer on him means they already know a lot more about him than he’d like.

He’s utterly clueless. He knows nothing; nothing, except that he’s trapped.

“Hello?” he calls tentatively, then desperately. “Hello! Is anyone, is anyone around? Please - I need--”

In under ten seconds, his calls are answered by the clang of the door opening.

Peter faces bad guys on the daily. He slips on his cocky persona like a second skin now after over a year of patrolling Queens. But it’s a whole lot easier when he’s in the suit. Instead, he instinctively huddles away from the four masked figures that storm into his cell.

There’s an overload of adrenaline pulsing through him stirred through with the dregs of sedatives which makes it impossible to think straight. He’s at a loss for quips.

“It’s alright,” issues a voice. Peter can’t tell who’s speaking behind the masks, but the tone is bafflingly soothing. “We’re here to reason with you.”

Peter prepares himself for a lengthy monologue detailing the way in which Spider-Man had wronged them, but it doesn’t arrive. One of the figures simply asks, “What would you like?”

It’s mystifying. Peter stays silent.

“Would you like some clothes?”

“Yes,” Peter can’t help but blurt, despite every ounce of logic he’s ineffectually grappling for like grains of sand, despite his sixth sense that cries out a never-ending chorus of danger danger danger danger.

The group nods in tandem.

And then, in precise, almost mechanical movements, they tear Peter from his corner and drop him so his face hits the floor. Then there are hands all over him, pressing his back and legs and arms to the ground, and he fights them - but finds he can't. His strength is gone.

A slew of panic grips him in its hold so violently that the room twists sickeningly around him.

The floor is freezing against his bare skin. He’s noticing now just how cold the whole room is.

The hands on him are rough and unsympathetic. But the taser is worse.

Before Peter even has a chance to speak, to protest, it's jammed into his side and activated. Peter's brain whites out instantly with the agony. It's too much. It has his limbs juddering against the floor, his mouth open in a scream he can't even find the wherewithal to let out, a heated pressure in his brain building and building and building upon itself until he’s sure it’s about to shatter his skull, ricocheting off the walls and battering him yet again, more pain, more pain.

There's a second of silent respite. Eerily quiet. He drags in ragged breaths.

Then it begins again.

Peter has no sense of time. It makes the torture feel endless.

After they're finished with him, he doesn't move from the spot where he'd been held down, every fibre of his body reeling, shorting out, fizzling with the aftershocks of the electricity.

"Now you've had your punishment, you can have some clothes. This is how things will work here. Once you have made a sacrifice, we will give you what you ask for."

“What, what are you - what do you want?”

“We want to test you. You have remarkable capabilities. We will discover just how remarkable they are.”

A pair of boxers is tossed into the cell as the masked group leaves. Peter crawls over to them and pulls them on through a bout of tremors, feeling the sour sting of shame enveloping him.

He knows that this is bad. Worse than bad, it's - a whole host of other words that he can't summon from his frazzled, drugged mind.

His kidnappers don't want money or leverage. They just want to break him.

So he resolves not to let them.

The group enters his box in intervals he presumes are daily - maybe twice a day, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know anything. They ask him politely if he'd like anything, and he doesn't ask for anything. They don't touch him.

Apart from their entry and exit, there's nothing. There's his box and himself. White, silent, tiny. Maybe ten by ten feet. Nothing.

So he fills up the nothing with talking.

"Actinium, aluminum, americium, antimony, argon, arsenic, astatine," he reels off. "Barium, berkelium, beryllium, bismuth, bohrium, boron, bromine."

He knows the elements. They're comforting but don't hold the bittersweetness of memories of before.

"Stay safe, kiddo," Tony called towards Peter as he rushed into the elevator that would take him out of the Tower and home before May could have his ass for being late to dinner.

The last words he'd said to Peter.

He climbs on the walls and ceiling, hammers at every inch of the tiling, bloodies his knuckles doing it, but he's only human now.

"C'mon," he grits, slamming his side into the wall. "Please, c'mon."

It won't give.

He sinks to the floor, still wracked with jitters, and cradles his head in his hands.

"Don't cry, Peter. Gonna use up water. Stop it, stop."

And, after knuckling his eyes until they ache, he manages to stop.

He knows that an inactive person can survive up to a week without water and almost a month without food. Mostly, that’s what he has to worry about, as well as the cold, which isn’t so severe as to give him frostbite but is enough that within his first few hours in captivity he becomes used to the incessant chattering of his jaw and wonders where the aftershocks of the taser end and the shivering begins.

That, and going insane.

“Cadmium, calcium, californium, carbon... cerium, cesium, chlorine... chromium… uh - cobalt. Cobalt. Copernicium. Copper. Curium.”

Peter likes to talk. He’ll talk whether there are people to listen to him or not, but he’ll admit that he prefers getting to talk to other people. He starts to miss it like hell, actually.

“You know what I should’ve done?” he says aloud, grinning, “I, I really should’ve brought my Chemistry homework with me. I’m so behind. And I’m supposed to be, like, the big science guy, right?”

Flopping to the floor, no longer noticing the coldness of it, he lies limply there for a moment, trying to wrangle his thoughts. “Or I could’ve just done it when I was supposed to. Would’ve cut into my patrol time, though, so, um - hm. Ugh, indecisive.” Affecting the upright demeanour of Captain America in his PSA videos, he crosses his arms: “Choose a thing, Mr. Parker.”

He laughs at himself, but it comes out wrong. It sounds too loud, too close to a sob.

“Choice is great, isn’t it?” he muses, watching the white ceiling. “One day, when I - yeah. The next thing I choose, it’d better be something awesome. Let’s make a deal. Yeah, okay, sure. The next thing, the next thing I choose to do is gonna be - monumental. Nice word. You could fool people into thinking you, thinking you take English. Eh, who am I kidding? I’m not an English kid. Look at me.”

He’s sobered by his own words.

When he grows tired, he sleeps on the ceiling. He doesn’t have a bed, and it feels just a little safer up there.

There are a lot of things he doesn’t have. His phone is nowhere to be seen. No shower or sink. No toilet. No clothes but his boxers. No mirror. No toothpaste. No friends.

The low-grade fuzziness of his brain doesn’t abate with time although he isn’t injected with anything else and doesn’t eat or drink, which leads him to believe the drugs are being circulated in the air of his cell. It would explain the masks, too.

The guys who took him really have it down to a tee. It’s terrifying.

And it wears down on him.

Thirst is an awful thing. It drags greedy claws down his parched tongue, reminding him every minute of the dryness of his throat. From his chapped lips to the very depths of his stomach there festers a growing sickness, a sensation of shriveling from the inside out until his skin begins to split and talking becomes painful. He does it anyway, clings to his own words because they’re real and solid and won’t jump out and scare him like the nightmares that begin to haunt him even while he’s awake.

On what he hopes is the third night after he woke up in his box, he wakes with a jolt from a dream of a thousand faceless beasts tearing away at him and falls from the ceiling. The moment he tries to get back up, he passes out.

The hunger begins to plague him too, gnawing at his muscles and weakening them. Standing is effortful. It becomes more and more tempting to ask for something as the days creep by and Peter feels himself falling apart.

“Palladium, phosphorus, platinum. P… Polonium? No. Uh. P-L. P-L… plutonium. Polonium. Potassium, protactinium, praseodymium - I mean, praseodymium, protactinium… you know what, shit. I don’t care. Don’t care about the elements--”

Imagining a telephone is sitting on the floor beside him, one of those old-fashioned plastic ones with a curly cord, he sticks his fingers against the side of his head in the universal position to indicate holding a phone and dials a number in his head.

“Hi, May,” he rasps. “Don’t come over, I’ve gotta clean up a bit first. Yeah.” He chuckles.

If he listens hard enough, he can pick out an amused reply.

“Are you good? I’m good. You know what you could do, though? Bring some paint. Or some colourful furniture. Anything but white. It’s boring as heck.”

He squeezes his eyes shut against a thundering headache, feeling the skin around his eyes cracking, his heart fluttering wildly, scalpels of hunger piercing his sides, his thoughts becoming formless, untamable things.

“May?” he falters. “Can you tell Mister Stark to come and get me, please? I don’t wanna… what am I supposed to do?”

The group enters on the fifth day. Peter is lying on the floor where he’s been for an unfathomable period of time.

“Would you like anything?” asks one of the masked people.

“Water,” he whispers. “Please. Water.”

He braces himself for the taser this time, but it’s a boot that meets his side instead. Another. A flurry. A stampede.

You get beaten up all the time on patrol. But it’s different when it’s just him, weak, pathetic, unable to stand, half-naked, against these four figures that become tyrannical gods to him as they hold him in the air by his hair, his neck, and beat him bloody.

Peter can do nothing to shield himself from the blows - and moreover, if he does it will jeopardize his chance of getting the water he needs so badly. So, swallowing back a rush of shame, he just takes it.

He can’t help the noises that escape him, however: the grunts as boots connect with his stomach, the whimpers at hands yanking at his hair, the groans as fists clad in brass knuckles meet his face over and over and over again. Blood pours from his nose, trickles from cuts across his cheekbones, temples, eyebrows. He feels a rib snap.

A water bottle is placed by the door as the group leaves. There are maybe 300 millilitres inside.

Peter lays on the floor and watches his blood pool slowly on the pristine tiles.

After twenty agonising seconds of dragging himself across the floor, he reaches the bottle, fumbling desperately to unscrew the cap, and takes a greedy swig of the liquid, at first moaning in relief at the way it gushes down his throat, then regretting his haste as he retches it right back up.

“Crap, Peter,” he mumbles to himself, arms trembling in their effort to hold him off the now-slippery floor. “Stupid. God. Shit. Stop swearing.”

Although his every instinct screams for him to down the water, he forces himself to take small sips. When there’s about half left, he pulls the bottle away and reluctantly caps it, saving the rest.

Then, ignoring the mortification that swells up in him at the prospect of what he will do next, he bends low to the puddle on the floor and laps up every drop of moisture he can find.

He’s a wild animal. He’s insane.

When he’s finished, he lets his arms and legs give out under him and grits his teeth against excruciating waves of pain from his battered body.

It’s simple, really. He endured the punishment; he was given what he asked for.

Though Peter is half-sure he’s already lost his mind, he does know that he needs to make a plan, to rationalize his situation as well as he can with his fuddled brain. Escape is not an option, and neither is refusing punishment.

He swallows and tastes blood.

“Here’s what’s, here’s what’s gonna happen, Peter. Okay? Just get stuff you really, really need. Okay. I’ve got water for tomorrow. Just… uh, ask the day after. And food. No more clothes.”

His rambling words become his life plan.

He’s forced to make adjustments the next time the group visits, however, when his half-full water bottle is taken from him.

Desperation overrides him. He lunges at the figure who holds the bottle, sticking his fingers to it. “Don’t! Please, don’t take it--”

Almost the moment he touches them, an ear-splittingly piercing whistle assaults Peter’s ears, forcing him to unstick himself in favour of dropping painfully to the floor and cramming his hands over his ears. Whatever drug he’s being fed in his cell hasn’t taken away a fraction of his enhanced senses: the noise drills clean through his eardrums and rattles his weary brain in his skull. He bites back a cry of pain. He doesn’t know why; he already looks utterly pathetic.

There’s no water that day.

The next, he asks for food. After breaking his arm, the group gives him a cheese sandwich that tastes better than anything he’s eaten before, even though he has to eat it with one hand.

His white box is steadily getting dirtier, painted with bloodstains, sweat, even puddles of piss. At least there are colours now, not just white, white, white.

“I’m doing great,” he reassures himself after he’s counted twenty visits from the group. There are forty lash marks across his back. He knows; he felt every strike of the whip. But at least he received a blanket in return. It was too cold, so he strayed from his plan.

He’s been tased and beaten again, had his nose and collarbone and forearm and fingers broken. Every movement he makes hurts somewhere, so he stays still.

“Mister Stark is, he’s, he’s on his way. He’s, uh… fixing his hair. Like he always does when he, when he gets out of the suit. To look cool. When he comes - God, it’s gonna be so nice. I don’t care about his hair. I just... want him.”

He feels closer to a carcass than a human being.

“Get me out, Mister Stark. Get me out, Mister Stark. Why haven’t you come?”

The feral desperation he’s finding it harder and harder to tamp down rears its head again, and he finds himself crying out with all the volume his torn-up throat can muster. “Mister Stark, please - I can’t stay here, going crazy, they’re gonna kill me. Save me . ”

It seems like the world is laughing his face when the group enters the twenty-first time and he’s asked, “Would you like to see Tony Stark?”

“What?” he croaks.

His mind can’t comprehend the thought. Tony Stark darts around his mind, turns itself inside out and emerges in his consciousness shrunken and frayed around the edges like it’s been washed too many times.

“Would you like to see Tony Stark?”

“I, uh…” even attempting a few words of conversation feels foreign to him. “Is he there?”

There’s no response from the group.

Peter is faced with one of the most frightening choices of his life.

He could accept the punishment on the off-chance that Mister Stark was really there and risk being hurt for nothing; or he could refuse and risk letting Tony down if, by some crazy chance, he was out there and needed Peter to come to him.

Locking his jaw to offset the tremors there, he shuts his eyes.

“Okay.”

Though he braces himself for the instant onslaught of punishment, instead he finds himself being hauled up from the floor and dragged towards the invisible outline of the door. The door.

He whimpers at unforgiving hands yanking at his bad arm, making an aborted attempt at scrambling to his feet. He’s too weak, too injured. And at the same time, he’s nearing the door, the door that hasn’t let him out in twenty-one days but swings open now.

Peter can’t quite determine whether this is real or not.

His heart awaits the inevitable punishment, thudding restlessly in his chest, but he’s entranced by the door closing behind him, revealing more tiles, a corridor, his arm throbs, tiles, pain, tiles. He reels.

The moment they turn the corner, an abrupt spreading of warmth at the base of Peter’s neck jolts him out of his daze of shock and compels him to lift his heavy head and meet the eyes of a man restrained by two guards, a man facing him, a man who sees him.

“Kid! Hi, kid. It’s me. What did you do to him? Pete. Pete. I’m here, hey?”

“Mister Stark,” Peter breathes.

There’s worry in his eyes, as clear and piercing as a blade. Peter assumes he looks pretty crappy. He doesn’t feel it just now, however. All his thoughts are occupied with Mister Stark Mister Stark Mister Stark , taking his breath away, melting away pain to reveal dizzying relief.

This is why he doesn’t notice at first.

Not until he hears, “Don’t you fucking dare! Kiddo!”

Before he can attempt to jerk away from the hands keeping him in place, they tighten, another pair clamping over the top and bottom of his head so he just barely glimpses a match held to an approaching blowtorch.

Punishment always arrives.

It isn’t panic or desperation that overwhelms him in this precise moment, as time slows down and Tony’s cries of distress are suspended across milliseconds so the minutiae of his reaction rises, falls, intensifies in arcs that are distressingly beautiful. It’s an ugly conglomeration of a thousand pockets of hopelessness accumulated over twenty-one days, a Frankenstein’s monster of pure despair.

“No,” he moans uselessly, hanging limp from the hands. “Don’t do it. I can’t.”

“Kid?”

Peter sobs and yet can’t produce a single tear. “Mister Stark.”

“Kid, you’re gonna be okay, you hear me? Just - look at me. Look at--”

Once, Peter came out of a patrol with a knife in his back, a moderate concussion and a torn hamstring. It was nothing compared to this.

The blowtorch is turned on the side of his face.

Peter screams, long and loud and raw, and the noise ricochets off the tiles and hits him anew. Unparalleled agony. He can’t turn away, no matter how desperately his mind screams for release.

He will never forget just how awful it feels. The memory of it will imprint upon his mind forever, just as the white light of the instrument now sears his vision through his screwed-shut eyelids.

He feels his flesh melting.

“Kid! Fuck! Don’t - I’m gonna kill you fuckers - get away from him!”

With a flicker, the torch cuts off. Peter can’t breathe, juddering violently against the hands that still hold him and fruitlessly opening and shutting his mouth. The aftershocks of the pain present a different form of horror entirely.

“Breathe, Pete,” comes a voice half-muffled by the violent ringing in his ears, a painfully kind voice, a voice he’s supposed to be safe when he hears. “Breathe through it. C’mon, kid.”

The first breath Peter manages to drag in is torn to shreds, shrivelled by tears he’s unable to shed.

“Kid,” Mister Stark calls again; the syllable is lost in the splintering of his own voice.

Peter manages a small whine.

“Now, Stark, what’s all this about making a deal?”

It’s a new voice, encroaching on Peter from behind and sending his crazed danger sense ringing off the hook.

With his chin forced upwards, Peter recognizes Norman Osborn instantly.

It all fits: the drug that took away his powers, the pristine tiles, the experiments.

He crouches before Peter and taps the newly burnt side of his face. It’s gentle but overwhelmingly painful all the same; Peter chokes on his breath.

“Get your fucking hands away from him, Osborn,” snarls Mister Stark. “This isn't what I’m here for.” Peter has never been more glad of his presence, as little as it seems to affect the punishments he’s given.

Osborn picks up on the grip the guards have on Tony with a smirk, rising to address him. “I can see that. I must say, I’m surprised you turned yourself in. What a sacrifice for this little boy.”

“Quit the fancy footwork.” Mister Stark sounds breathless, wild. “Are you gonna let him go or not?”

It’s only now that Peter’s brain catches on to what Tony is attempting to do.

He does his best to speak around the fried nerves on his face and the haze of shock he’s still trapped in, but all that emerges are pitiful, slurring murmurs. “D’n, m’s’r st’r. D’n t’n y’self in.”

Mister Stark understands the source of his panic and smiles brokenly at him. “It’s gonna be okay, kid. Don’t you worry.”

“N. Pl’s d’n.”

“No need to panic, Peter,” Osborn soothes sickeningly, “We don’t want anything to do with Stark.”

“No. You’re gonna take me and leave him alone,” Mister Stark grits out with impressive stubbornness.

“Don’t you understand, Tony? This boy has strength you can’t imagine. Resilience. We’re making groundbreaking leaps in research.”

Tony is thunderous as he jostles his guards. “This is not research. Give me the kid, or so help me, I’ll--”

“You’ll what?” laughs Osborn.

Something splinters in Tony’s eyes; behind it, Peter sees a plan.

“I’ll tear this place up.”

Before Osborn or any of the masked guards can react, Tony’s glasses flash bright blue and he yells, “FRIDAY, torch them!”

Peter’s mind disconnects from the flurry of what happens next. He’s tackled to the ground and cradled tightly; a fiery blast envelops the room; a chorus of shouts is cut off by silence and a persistent buzzing in his ears.

After twenty-one days of nothing, there is everything. It’s too staggering for him to comprehend for a minute or two.

There’s dust in the air. He watches it settle with eyes that have forgotten how to blink.

Finally, his mind creaks back to life, running on fumes but present enough to tell him that it’s Mister Stark who is wrapped protectively around him. A frenzied glance around the room shows heaps of crumbled tiles, fire, prone bodies.

Dead bodies?

“M’s’r s’rk,” he coughs, hearing his voice dimly as if piped from speakers a hundred feet away. He finds the presence of mind to push at the man’s limp shoulder with his good hand. “G’t up. Y’ g’tta g’t up.”

Mister Stark’s eyes are shut and won’t open.

“Pl’s, m’s’r s’rk...”

Although Peter knows what he has to do, he dreads it.

Sucking in as much air as he can, he shifts himself onto his haunches and heaves his mentor over his shoulder.

The airborne drug has worn off to a degree now he’s outside his cell, returning a little of his strength to him, but the screaming of his injuries has in no way quietened, and he’s pitifully weak from cold, hunger and thirst. He staggers at the weight of Tony against his collarbone and arm, swallowing a cry in fear of waking any of the bad guys, but pushes on, inching towards the end of the corridor.

“C’m’n, Pe’r,” he breathes, fumbling at the doorknob with his one good hand, his bad hand stuck to Tony’s back despite the way it pulls at the snapped bones with every movement he makes. “Sh’t. C’m’n.”

It’s open. It’s open.

He pulls himself one-handed up a ladder, his legs shaking beneath him, and shoulders open a circular trapdoor.

Outside, there is light.

Peter can’t help but collapse to his knees. The sky is there, wrapping him in an embrace that spans the heavens, cornflower blue and picturesque. Grass and trees glow green. And just fifty feet in front of them both is a roaring, seething freeway.

The noise hits Peter like a brick wall, like a fist with brass knuckles, like a strike from a whip. It surrounds him and invades his ears until there’s nothing but noise, noise Peter can pick apart in overwhelming detail: the friction of tires against tarmac, the smallest particles of grit tossed back and forth by lines of cars and vans and lorries with grumbling engines spitting plumes of carbon dioxide, a mechanical spray of pungently soapy water across a windshield, a chorus of laughter from a family whizzing by in an old Volvo, the tap of a cigarette against the rim of a half-open window, and people, people, people, people, passing him in their clamorous multitudes.

Setting Mister Stark down in the grass with as much gentleness as he can manage with his battered body and thundering heartbeat, Peter flounders, groaning at the grass stalks pricking his bare knees, hearing his breaths speeding up, recalling the sizzling of his skin under the blowtorch, unable to distinguish between the myriad of sensations assaulting him. Sight becomes sound, touch becomes smell, and each crowds his vision with hazy grey and sends wild tremors along the length of his limbs.

Peter’s going to explode.

But he doesn’t.

He recognizes the sign on the freeway. Although the text is painfully bright and jumps back and forth in front of him, he makes out the location. Only about two minute’s drive from the Compound.

He had been certain all good fortune had deserted him the moment he’d been thrown into his box, but today he wonders if someone is looking out for him after all.

All he has to do is walk, but walking has never been so difficult.

“Y’ g’tta go, Pe’r. Y’ c’n d’ it.”

Peter lurches to his feet, yelping when it jolts his back and collarbone. His vision whirls in front of him, spotted with black patches, but he does his best to pay no heed to his brokenness, lifting Tony tremulously over his shoulder.

Every step pains him, wears him out; he wonders every time he puts one foot in front of the other whether it’ll be his last step, whether his body will give up on him, and he comes close, stumbling and falling, but hauls himself back up.

He has to reach the Compound. It’s branded across his mind, the most important thought he has in there, and it keeps him going.

He’s getting out. He’s going home.

Fire licks at his face and knees and arm and fingers and collarbone and back and torso. Everywhere.

Between gasping breaths, he croaks encouragement to himself. “N’ly th’re. Y’ go’ this, Pe’r. Pl’s, keep goin’.”

He walks until the black spots have almost taken over his field of vision. Just as his knees give out under him yet again, he blinks and recognizes the sleek glass-and-steel buildings that he’s now among.

The Compound.

Too exhausted to speak, he simply gets back up, keening at the agony of movement, and carries on. He’s only a few hundred feet away. Two hundred. One hundred and fifty. He prays FRIDAY will alert someone when they get there.

One hundred. He thinks he can make out the doors now, although he can’t hold his head up for longer than a moment and his vision is no good.

Exhaustion has taken on a new meaning for Peter.

He hardly notices that he’s crossed the threshold until the door hisses shut behind him and there’s a muffled, muted sound he thinks could be the frenzied clicking of high heels on a staircase.

“How did this - Peter? Peter, honey?”

It’s Pepper.

The tone of her voice is blissfully familiar, dissolving the hold of adrenaline on his body and leaving it limp.

“I’m here,” he tries to say, but all that escapes his mouth is an incoherent whimper.

“Peter…” Pepper calls again, the heels drawing close, but he can’t hold on any longer. He doesn’t need to: he’s safe.

Darkness overtakes his vision and he collapses onto the carpet.

#fanfic #fanfiction #irondad #spiderson #tony stark #peter parker #whump #angst #hurt and comfort #notaparty-trick

4 notes · View notes