#as of next week i'll be in the swing of things and able to balance it better. once some of the imposter syndrome becomes more tolerable

[variousqueerthings]

the thing is this is awful timing to get into a new show because i am teetering on the edge of incredibly busy (or rather, i ought to have begun being very busy last week and... i did not. the amount of tabs ive got open right now of things to do. scary. impossible to look at.)

on the other hand, becoming hyperfixated on a new thing to spend all my time meticulously documenting that is neither my masters course that's just started nor the job ive currently got for the near future that is quite tricky nor the job hunt im meant to be on to get a more longterm job nor indeed any of the social hobbies i've semi-committed myself to....

well, that is just very me actually......

[space-helen]

Silenced

Words: 1114

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader

A/N: I know this has taken forever but I hope this is ok! (not proof read before releasing)

Request: Could you do something angsty for stephen strange, where he's working on researching some magic thing and his relationship with reader fell to the wayside as he's totally obsessed with whatever he's working on and anyway he gets more and more irritated and tells her to leave him alone and be quiet but for some accidental magic reasons he unintentionally made her mute. Then when everything's settled and his work/research is finished he assumed things would go back to normal but reader still isn't talking to him, he thinks he's getting the silent treatment for ignoring her while he was working but it's been weeks and she still hasn't said a word to him so he tries to talk to her about it and then he realises what he accidentally did and just angst and sadness pls, but like they work things out and stay together - Anon

______________________

"Y/N, please just leave me for a second" the man spoke totally exasperated. He'd been absorbed into new research for a couple of days now. He'd really planned to get it done quickly but with you interrupting consistently every hour he wasn't making as much progress as he'd have liked.

"I'm sorry I just wanted to make sure you were ok and didn't need anything"

"Y/N I love you, I really do but you're making this ten times harder with your constant interruptions. Just leave, It'll get done quicker and then we can spend more time together."

You were slightly hurt by the comment and felt a twang in your chest. You bowed your head "I'll come back with some dinner for you in a couple of hours" with that you quickly left. The man sighed and buried his head back into the book.

As promised you returned, nervous but hopeful the man was in a better mood. You'd seen him grumpy and mad before but He'd never been like this towards you so you knew it was serious. 

You balanced the plate of food in one hand to knock the door before opening it. Allowing it to swing open you politely greeted you boyfriend but before you could say another word he quietly muttered something under his breath and absentmindedly gestured his hand towards you. You thought you saw some orange sparks but couldn't be sure. 

Approaching his desk you placed down the plate but he continued to read the pages in front of him. You opened your mouth to say "here's the food I promised" You realised not a single sound came out. Tears instantly brimmed in your eyes and you turned on your heels to leave. 

You'd seen him jokingly mute people before but quickly unmute them. But this? It felt like a punch to the gut. Had you really annoyed him so much that he'd done it to you? He'd promised from day one to never use magic on you unless it was to save your life yet here you were. Mute and unable to speak because of him. 

Heading to your bedroom you sat on the edge of the bed. Somewhat still in denial that he'd done it you tried speaking to yourself but heard nothing. Letting the tears roll down your cheeks you lay down. He didn't mean it. He couldn't have. Yet he had been annoyed at your talking. 

You’d busied yourself for the rest of the day. Hoping he’d be done soon and would come and find you to undo his magic. Walking through the corridors you could see the man in the distance talking to Wong. You gazed at him hopeful before he quickly spoke “Y/N it’s an overnight trip. We’ll be back in the morning.” and before you could even react he’d disappeared with Wong.

Defeated you sighed a noiseless sigh and continued on your way through the sanctum towards the bedroom. Sluggishly you moved around and found yourself resting your head on your pillow for sleep.

The next day was spent moving around the sanctum trying to busy yourself, thanking yourself that you’d pre-booked time off work because you didn’t know how you’d function without being able to speak. You knew Stephen had arrived back in the early hours of the morning but you’d continued with his wish and stayed out of his way.

What you hadn’t realised was the longing looks from the man every time he saw you move around that day. He was still busy wrapping things up but wanted nothing more than for you to interrupt him, and save him, from Wong.

Eventually the day was coming to a close and he made his way to bed. He could feel his muscles relaxing as he made his way to you. He’d wanted nothing more all day than to see you and hold you in his arms.

Coming into the bedroom he could see that you were reading, what was unusual though is that you didn’t look up from your book, like you usually would, when he came into the room. Plodding around the room he quickly got changed before pulling the covers up and getting into bed. 

He sat for a moment before adjusting to get comfy. Not a single word from you? “Thank you for being patient with me. I’m sorry.” he moved to give you a kiss on your cheek but you moved away quickly and turned away from the man. Closing your book you went to put it on the nightstand.

His heart dropped, the silent treatment. He was seriously getting the silent treatment and it’d been that way all day and he hadn’t realised. He kicked himself internally.

“I’m sorry Y/N I really am but I promise not to be that way with you in the future. I just had Wong breathing down my neck about the work and how important it was and the emergency at hand. I understand if you’re giving me the silent treatment. I love you, I know I messed up.”

You turned back to the man and tried to reply in the heat of the moment, forgetting about the fact that no volume would come out. 

The man looked at you confused for a second. “Say something again.”

You did as he wished and you could see his features tense up “Someone muted you?” he quickly moved his hands and undid the spell. “You weren’t giving me the silent treatment? Who did this? What happened? Who do I need to go and speak to?”

You could see the anger bubbling up within him but you just stared at the man puzzled. “Wait.” the man stopped and looked at you “do you seriously not know?”

The man gave a very small and slight shake of his head.

“You did. When I came in yesterday to give you food.”

His eyes widened and he froze “I’m so sorry.” his words were slow and he brought his eyes to yours and found your hands with his “I’m so incredibly sorry. I didn’t even realise. I promise to never do it again. If something like that happens you have to come and let me know.”

You nodded, you could see that the man didn’t truly mean it and you couldn’t hold a grudge against him. “It’s ok. Just promise to actually communicate with me next time as well instead of just telling me to go away.”

He nodded and brought your hands to his mouth to place a gentle kiss to them. “Anything Y/N. Anything.”

With that you happily accepted his embrace when he opened his arms to you.

Tag List: (open)

All: @perasperaadastrawriting @asgards-princess-of-mischief @trippol-threat @captainsophiestark

MCU: @coffeeandcrimeshows @spunky-89 @heyitsaloy @captainsophiestark @discocactusblogs @butchers-girl

[bluegalaxygirl]

Ruthless (Zosan X Reader) P9

Plot: Beast off the walking dead series. After the governor attacks your people you head back to help plan an attack back. Luffy's not happy with being left out so ends up following only to end up at the governors town.

Warning: Making out, Violence, bad language and medical stuff.

Reader is a gunslinger of the crew and the younger sibling to Rick. This isn't accurate to the show but it does contain characters and plot lines, deaths have been added that aren't apart of the show. Zoro X Sanji X Reader, poly relationship, Established relationship, Reader is GN.

P1 - P2 - P3 - P4 - P5 - P6 - P7 - P8 - P10 - P11

Day 10

You swing your legs over the bed and moves to the edge your feet touching the floor "Ok now take it easy" Rick holds under your right arm while Zoro holds under your left, Sanji stands in front of you while Chopper stands next to him watching your every move "If it hurts don't push it" Chopper gulps as you push up managing to stand up off the bed, it hurt a little but you managed to do it only for your bitten leg to give out "It's ok we got you, sit back down" Zoro holds you along with Rick trying to steady you "No i got, i got" you groan standing back up and regaining your balance "See, i'm good" you smile at the two. Chopper walks over and looks at your injured leg, there's no bleeding so you didn't pull anything "You ok?" The doctor asks putting his paw in your leg "I'm fine, i'm just not used to the feeling yet" the bite was deep and you'll most likely have a permanent bit mark but you know now how not to stand on it. "Told you not to get bit" Zoro glares as your turn to look at him "And i told you to follow Daryl. Two can play at that game sir" You shoot back earning a grin, he loves it when you fight back. "Let's try walking, once you get your balance we'll see how you go on your own" Chopper nods walking out the room and holding the sheet open for you. Rick and Zoro help you balance while you walk and it doesn't take you long to stop leaning on them, it doesn't hurt, you just feel stiff form staying in one position for a week. Walking down the medical ward Rick soon lets you go and lets Zoro take over, he knows the man can differently react faster if you fall, so he walks behind you with Sanji.

Chopper smiles seeing you able to walk on your own, your a little wobbly but its good enough for him "It'll be good if you go outside and get some fresh air but someone had to be with you at all times just in case" The doctor nods as Zoro fully lets go walking next to you "Thank gods, i was getting sick of that room" You smile picking up your pace a little feeling more confident "Let's get you back and into something better for outside ok?" Sanji walks over placing his arm around your waist and holding your arm as you turn around and head back to your room. "I'll see you outside" Rick smiles as you stop in front of him "Your doing great" He leans down placing a kiss on your forehead before leaving, he's confident in Zoro and Sanji looking after you. Making it to your room you sit down and let Sanji get out some new cloths for you "I'm going to make some tea and I'll meet you two outside" Sanji smiles placing a kiss on your lips before walking over to Zoro and doing the same "We'll see you out there" Zoro smiles kissing the cook back before letting him go. "Need help?" The swordsman asks but you shake your head "No i got it plus, i have Chopper here" You pat the doctors head making him smile.

Once your dressed you managed to stand up on your own being careful not to do the same thing you did last time that hurt your leg "Your doing so well Y/N" Chopper smiles up at you "It's all thanks to the wonderful doctor chopper" You praise making the Doctor spin a little with glee, he soon shakes it off and walks out the room holding the sheet for you while Zoro offers you his arm to hold onto, you take it but mainly because you want to hold him. The three of you walk down the medical ward and out into the hallway, the sound of people walking around hits your ears but there's also a bit of laughing that sounds very familiar "Luffy?" you ask soon making it to a door way that leads into a cell block where Luffy is playing with a bunch of kids and Nami reading in the corner to a few others "Nami" you smile getting their attention "Y/N, your up" Luffy runs over only for Zoro's hand to stop the captain form running into you "Their still unsteady Luffy" Chopper yells as Nami walks over and hits Luffy on the head for being an idiot "Sorry, the kids make him worse" Nami laughs a little before walking closer and giving you a hug "Its so good to see you" The navigator smiles pulling away "It's good to see you two, i'm glad none of you are hurt and thank you for the gifts" Nami nods and steps back as Zoro puts his hand down.

Luffy steps closer and for the first time lightly hugs you, it surprises you but you gladly hug back a little harder "I mad at your for coming when i said not to but you have been a big help so thank you Captain" your words make Luffy hug you a little tighter but it doesn't hurt, he soon lets go with a big smile "You love your family so why wouldn't we help them, plus this place is fun" Your Captain laughs holding his hat to his head "We're heading outside, we'll see you later Captain" Zoro nods helping you walk away followed by Chopper "I'll tell the others your up, so they know" Nami calls out earning a Thank you form Chopper and you, it would be nice to see the others but you really want to get some fresh air. Chopper pushes the door open letting sunlight in that almost blinds you but you keep going, the cool breeze feeling soothing on your skin and the fresh air hitting your nose. The courtyard is big but now had benches and garden chairs. "Can you make it to the fence, you'll be able to see the garden form there" Chopper asks wanting you to have something to look at that wasn't just building "Yea i can, it'll be nice to see" Zoro helps you walk over, your legs getting a little tired but you push through soon making it close to the open gates.

They help you sit down on a covered garden sofa near the wall, the seats comfy and giving you a nice view of the large grass area surrounded by the now fully mended fence "Where did you get these from?" you ask rubbing your leg a little as Zoro sits next to you "The people form the mall brought them over" You look up seeing Maggie jog over "I can't believe your up already, you look great" the girl smiles as you reach your arms out to her, so she can hug you. She holds you for a little before pulling away "So i hear you've been practicing your cooking skills" You lean back as the girl rubs her arm a little "Yea your boy's a good teacher, you found a good one, proper house wife" She winks with a laugh only for Sanji to come round the corner with a tray of tea "Who's a house wife?" the cook asks making Zoro laugh bending over holding his side while Chopper covers his mouth. Maggie freezes trying to look anywhere but the cook as you laugh at her but you decide to give her mercy since she did help you "Someone she used to know, don't worry honey" Maggie sighs giving you a thankful look "I better get back to it, see you later" the girl backs up before walking off still avoiding looking at Sanji. The cook smiles at her as she leaves before placing the try down on the wooden coffee table in front of you. He hands them out to each of you before sitting down next to Zoro since it's the only free seat.

The garden was really coming along, the dirt looked fresh and the grass looked greener, you could see a bunch of people working on it but Carl, Rick and Glen caught your eye, the three working hard as Maggie came back with another wheelbarrow full of compost. The two rows of gates between the grass area and outside were much better and the main gates to the outside were now two metal doors with an extra set of wire gates behind it for extra safety "I see Franky and Usopp have been busy" sipping on your tea you keep watch as Chopper nods next to you "Yep, they fixed a bunch of stuff" The doctor smiles swinging his legs on the seat "Usopp has just fixed the walk in cooler too" Sanji chimes in leaning into Zoro enjoying the company. It makes you so happy to see this place back to normal and your people happy. Finishing your tea and putting the cup down you lean into Zoro, resting your head on his shoulder and curling up next to him as he kisses your head.

After a while of sitting there Chopper had to leave but told you to stay with someone at all times, you three waves him off before you moved to stand "And where are you going?" Zoro asks wrapping his arm around you "I want to look around" you stand Sanji jumping up to try and help but your up by the time he gets to you "I can stand don't worry" you smile placing a hand on his cheek "But you could escort me around" Sanji sighs at you and lets you take his arm walking with you to farm area with Zoro on your other side who keeps an arm around your waist. The path was easy to walk on but the grass area you had to get used too, Carl looks up form planting seeds and smiles running over to you "Your up, thats great" He stops in front of you not wanting to hug you and make you off balance "You guys have done a great job with this, it looks better than the last farm" you comment as Glen walks over taking his gloves off "Well we have other camps to thank for that, your deals and truces really came in handy" The young man smile giving you a light hug which you gladly return while still holding onto Sanji for balance on the uneven ground. He pulls away and pats your shoulder before going back to work. Carl lightly wraps his arms around your waits as you pat his head "I'm proud of you, you've done really well" you pull him away as you speak making him smile wide at your words.

Zoro and Sanji helped you walk around the area before going back to sit on the garden chair, the walk tired your legs out so you were glad to have a rest. "There we go love" Sanji helps you sit down along with Zoro before sitting either side of you "Thanks boys" You lean over placing a kiss on the cooks cheek who leans into it with a smile. Zoro sits with his back to the arm of the chair and pulls you into him so your back is too his chest and his legs are either side of you "You want to take a nap with me?" He asks kissing your neck while Sanji pulls your legs over his and massages them, you hum in delight and nod slightly leaning your head back on his shoulder as he kisses up your neck to your ear "I got you baby" His voice is soothing as you close your eyes "I'll wake you for dinner if sleep that long mi amour" Sanji smiles rubbing your legs as watching you fall asleep soon followed by Zoro.

You wake up a few hours later to talking, cracking your eyes open you smile seeing Usopp and Franky talking with Sanji. Usopp spots your awake and smiles at you "Hay, sleepy head" The sniper steps closer patting your head "Sorry we didn't mean to wake you" Franky looks over as you sit up away from Zoro's chest "You didn't, don't worry" you look down realizing there's now a blanket on you "Robin came by before thought you would need it" Sanji smiles as he helps you sit up "Why didn't you wake me?" you glare making the cook raise his hands in defense "You need your rest love" Franky nods at the cook and bends down to you "He's right we need you in tip-top shape to use these" Franky holds out three guns, there not the ones you lost in Woodbury, but they look great. "Did you guys make these?" you take taking two from the cyborg feeling the weight of them in your hands "Yep, you can always rely on the great Usopp and his trusty sidekick" The sniper runs his nose but gets a light elbow to the side form Franky "There not fully done yet, but they should be done by tomorrow" You hand them back to Franky and place a hand on his arm "Thank you guys so much" Usopp gives you a quick hug with a big smile before pulling away "We'll we have work to do, so we'll see you at dinner" The sniper waves before leaving along with Franky.

Sanji puts his arm around you and pulls you into his side before kissing your head "How was your nap?" the cook asks seeming to have a cocky grin on his face "It was fine why?" you ask raising an eyebrow "Oh nothing, its just... your snore is cute" You jump a little and blush at his words "I don't snore" you almost yell only for the cook to laugh "Yes you do" Your head turns to Zoro who opens his eye with a smile "And he's right it is cute" you playfully hit Zoro on the leg "How long have you been awake?" you glare as he sits up and rubs his head with a yarn "In and out for a while but i didn't want to wake you, your so adorable" He teases knowing he's getting to you "Im not adorable" you push him away when he tries to get closer "Come on my love, just give in your so cute" Sanji kisses your cheek as you cross your arms over your chest. Zoro takes the opportunity to get closer and wrap his arms around your waist "So cute" He mumbles into your neck kissing it "I hate you both so much" you whisper not looking at them even when Sanji pulls your face to towards him kissing your lips lightly over and over again. You can't help but give in after a little and start kissing back "Say it baby, say your cute" Zoro growls in your ear while kissing up and down your neck "Ok... Im cute now knock it off" you pull away form Sanji still a little mad but it makes them both happy.

You lay back down with Zoro this time staying awake while the swordsman naps, Sanji rubs your legs as you two watch the world go by it isn't long until you see a familiar face walk through the gate "Y/n?" Daryl asks putting the caged rabbits he's been finding on one of the tables before rushing over to you. You sit up and hug him as he holds you "Shit, you had me worried kid" The rugged man pulls away "Sorry but thanks for the flowers" You smile seeing him blush slightly and pull away messing with his hair a little "Don't get used to it short stack" He shoots back getting a playful glare form you "We're nearly the same height" you playfully punch his arm "Yea... nearly" He ruffles your hair going over to the cage and picking it up "What's with the rabbits?" Sanji asks looking confused "Rick said to look out for farm animals, i know there not but its something, we can bread them and use them as food" Daryl lifts up the cage to look at the rabbits "Good luck with that" You laugh a little knowing he's a good hunter but caring for wild animals can test his patients. "See you at dinner short stack" Daryl calls out walking away as you lay back down. Sanji shakes his head before turning to you and rubbing your leg "You should get some sleep my love, you look tired" The cook leans over rubbing his thumb over your cheek, you lean into him and nod "Ok" you don't argue but do take his hand off your cheek and kiss is palm before leaning against Zoro's chest and closing your eyes.

[drsteggy]

And we’re back! This was fun to write.

I decided to go with the wild card option I got, which was this:

[Hand her ancient weapons first]

"I think we were always supposed to fight the calamity together. Not that either of us were prepared. I'll show you- you have a right to see it, I think."

"...Link, what's wrong?"

"Dunno yet. Stay on the platform. If I die you should still be able to get out."

“What.”

Onward:

You can still get inside, correct?

There’s a fight inside that shrine, a tough one. One he had to bail on and return to before winning it. He hasn’t been back here since then, there was no need.

He knows the combat shrines reset with the blood moons. Sometimes he scavenged ancient weapons that way, when he didn’t have rupees or parts for Robbie.

He taps a finger to his lips and frowns. Zelda tilts her head, one eyebrow cocked, waiting for his answer. A week ago, the idea of bringing her down there would have horrified him. She is much more capable on the road then he imagined, even hunting dinner most nights.

He remembers her snap about fighting the calamity. Surely the training area for the hero should work for the princess with sealing power as well.

He answers her by handing her a fairy in a bottle. The fairy will pick her up should she fall.

He hopes she doesn’t fall.

“What’s this?” She slowly turns the bottle in her hands, the tiny pink light bubbles inside, soft bells barely audible.

“Insurance. Also take these.” He thrusts an ancient short sword and a medium sized ancient shield, the last in his inventory, toward her. They are light, and she should be able to handle them. If she had sword training, she hasn’t practiced in a while. “These are the best things to use on what’s inside there.”

Zelda pockets the fairy and accepts the glowing armaments. She gives them a once over and returns her gaze to Link, her mouth open with so many questions, she can’t pick the right one to ask first.

"I think we were always supposed to fight the calamity together. Not that either of us were prepared. I'll show you- you have a right to see it, I think."

"...Link, what's wrong?"

"Dunno yet. Stay on the platform. If I die you should still be able to get out."

“What.”

“Come on.” He takes her hand and leads her to the lighted platform inside the shrine. She gasps and squeezes his fingers as the platform abruptly begins its decent. She is only off balance for a moment though, and is quickly trying to take in as much as she can as the drift down into the darkness.

The platform settles in what is clearly a lobby, with a ceiling so high it cannot be seen. One small door stands before another cavernous room.

Link licks his lips and steps off the platform, Zelda following close behind. His heart rate has picked up its pace. He feels aware of every crack in the walls, the oily smell of guardian that seems heavy in the air. It didn’t take him long to learn what that smell meant.

He runs through an internal checklist of his gear, making sure he has made the best choices for what is going to happen in that next room.

Zelda trots ahead of him, glamoured by the odd architecture. She is almost at the door when he calls at her to stop. She half turns, wide eyed.

“We should go together.” He explains, drawing the Master Sword off his back, and swinging a royal shield in front of him. “Keep your shield high and follow me.”

They step through the door together, footsteps echoing around them. There is the same high, unseen ceiling, and a half dozen stone pillars stand throughout the chamber. When they are about a third of the way across the room, bars drop across the doorway, blocking their exit.

Link’s gut drops. He shivers and sets his jaw. Zelda draws her sword, the white blue sparkle dancing at the edge of his vision.

There’s a mechanical scraping and a platform rises in the center of the room. A pony sized machine sits on it, three guardian like legs holding it up.

“What is that?” Whispers Zelda.

“It’s called a guardian scout and it’s dangerous.”

The small, squat creature sprouts three arms, wielding a shield, a sword and a savage looking axe. All three weapons are made of the same white blue energy.

It skitters forward alarmingly fast and insect-like, homing in on their position.

“Shields up,” mutters Link as the scout fires a volley of light at them. Zelda barks in surprise, scrambling back and raising her shield.

The scout seems to focus on Link, bringing the axe down agains his shield and shaking him to the bone. Zelda takes advantage of this by dashing to the scout’s flank and bringing her sword down.

She gets two swings in before the scout spins around to engage her, snapping its shield forward and bringing the blade of the axe down.

Zelda gasps and backs up, bringing her own shield up and blocking the blow. Link freezes for only a second and then savagely brings his blade down.

The scout spins again, appearing confused with a pair of opponents. It scrambles back, clawed feet scraping the stone floor. Link holds a hand out to stay Zelda as she steps forward to chase.

“This isn’t something I’ve seen before….ah, no, get behind a pillar.”

The scout raises itself up, stretching the arms with axe and sword out and races toward them, spinning its arms around like a deadly pinwheel. They duck behind a pillar. The scout scrambles toward them in that unsettling, almost alive manner and crashes into their hide, shattering it and stunning the scout. Link spins to take advantage of the opening, bringing the sword down over handed. Zelda dives in as well, taking out a leg.

The machine stutters back to life and flips out the axe, attempting to take them both in one blow. Link throws the elbow of his shield arm out, catching Zelda’s shoulder and shoving her back as the axe whistles past his face, narrowly missing his nose. Zelda cries out, staggering back and lifting her own shield reflexively.

The scout collapses on itself and Link hears a familiar whirring.

“Get back! Do you have your bow ready?”

Zelda nods and draws a royal bow she’s been hunting with.

“Just stay out of range of the spinning thing, and shoot, I’m going up.”

Link has never quite known what to think of this particular attack, but he knows that contacting the spinning cable the machine is sending out will hurt. It also creates enough of an updraft that he can use it to get airborne. He snaps out the paraglider and rises into the air. Zelda fires an arrow below him.

Atta girl.

She’s a worthy fighting partner. He had no idea. Had they fought together before?

He flips the paraglider away to draw his own bow, reaching for Revali’s chosen weapon and firing a volley of arrows before he needs to swapping back to the paraglider.

He glances down to see Zelda on the move, firing as fast as she can draw. He should give her a multi shot bow. Maybe one of the Yiga bows.

Maybe later, his arms and sides suddenly protest and he drops to the ground.

The scout tucks into itself again, and starts drawing energy from somewhere. This is it. This is its final stand. He has seen this enough to recognize.

“Zelda! Press in! It can only target one of us.”

The final attack is a guardian stalker style light beam. The scout plants the targeting light between Link’s eyes. Fine. Link begins to circle the scout, shield facing forward, ready to parry the beam back.

Zelda circles as well, directly across from him, slashing. Her eyes are fixed on her target, lips curled in a snarl. She swings repeatedly, landing each blow hard as Link attempts to draw fire.

The final shot never comes.

Zelda lands a final blow on the spidery machine and it drops the weapons it welds, sparks flying out of the top. It collapses before imploding and vanishing. Zelda is wide eyed and panting, grinning from ear to ear.

“I did it!”

“You did it!” Her smile is infectious. Has he seen her this excited before? He doesn’t know. “Here,” he picks up an ancient battle axe dropped by the machine. “You earned the spoils. Come get them.”

She scores a sword and a shield as well as an odd screw and a gear. She runs her fingers along the hilt the sword. “What is it? Is this where you got the one you gave me?”

“I think of them as ancient weapons, but I think they are old Sheikah tech.” Link pulls an ancient arrow out of his quiver. The tip snaps out and into place, white blue light forming the point. “They are particularly good against guardians, but outside a shrine this will stop everything in a single shot. You know Robbie? He makes stuff like this.”

“Robbie? Robbie is still alive? Oh, yes, I forgot.”

“Yes. Robbie and Purah…”

“PURAH!”

“Maybe we should talk about Purah…” he is interrupted when she throws herself at him, embracing him. He stiffens, unsure of what to do.

It’s only been a couple weeks, maybe a few days more since they ended the calamity and he has grown more familiar with her, but this is more than he is prepared for. He takes the hug, only returning it, gingerly, carefully, after a long moment. Zelda seems to understand his discomfort and steps back, keeping her hands on his shoulders.

“Link. This is amazing. They survived. We were able to do it because they survived to help you.”

Link furrows his brow. He has not thought about it that way, but Robbie and Purah were people he met along the way, and new to him. He has been told people were waiting for him and yet he has not thought about what that meant before now.

For the first time, he realizes that he has not just dreamed Zelda into existence. Everything that has gone on since he awoke in the pool at the Shrine of Resurrection, shivering in just a pair of shorts, a new foal to the world, while already full of responsibility.

He wants to collapse at the thought of it, there’s so much he doesn’t know, can barely see the edges of, it’s almost too much. He steadies himself against her palms and returns her smile. “Yes.”

He places his hands over hers and she tangles her fingers in hers. “Zelda, we should go see Impa, I know she is eager to see you.”

Rules* Part 1* Part 2

[middaymusings]

First entry.

They are always the hardest. It's where you have to let yourself be vulnerable, and let things out. Thats where I struggle. In both face to face communication, and writing. I don't like letting people in, I don't like the feeling of being judged. But who does? I suppose, my whole life has been a whirlwind of criticism, judgement and just, not really being happy.

When people say it's a part of childhood trauma, I never really put much thought into it until recent years. My son is autistic, and my daughter is not. In raising them, I always find myself saying "I don't want them feeling how I did when I was little." It gets me to thinking about my childhood. It's bittersweet, really. I remember fun times with my Dad. I remember feeling a sense of love from him. he was honestly the only one to come forth regularly and say "I love you." to me. My mom, not so much. She was focused on their business, and left me to my own devices.

I got into a lot of trouble as a kid, with no supervision, and being able to do whatever I want, I also got my ass handed to me too. My dad used his massive hand, or a switch off the tree wrapped in duct tape. I had bruises, and I showed him once. After that he said he was never going to use corporal punishment on me again. He didn't. That didn't stop my Mom. She would slap me all day every day, until the day I blocked her swing, and knocked her off balance. She glared at me, and said "Next time I won't miss." I glared right back and stayed silent. There never was a next time. I think she knew in that moment that I had my Dad's temper.

My children are amazing, I love them both so much. Being an mom of an autistic child is so hard though. It's something I'm not used to, and something my husband isn't used to. I struggle everyday. I work full time, and I let things pile up. I have no choice though. Asking for help is comical. Family says "just leave it, I'll do it." Three days later, nothing. Not help with laundry, dishes, general cleaning. It's exhausting. Compound that with having a little one who is beyond destructive, and doesn't communicate yet, sometimes I wish I could just stay in bed all day and block out the world.

But I'm a woman. Wife, Mom, the one who carries the burden of everyone. I'm expected to get things done. Need new underwear? Ask Mom. Need a last minute ride to a friends house? Ask Mom. Mom's at work, and broke, but you need money for whatever. Ask Mom. My husband doesn't complain, laundry has piled up for weeks and he doesn't say a word. That leads me to believe he's either just sick of my depression as a whole, or he actually understands that I'm only one person.

That's all for this post. My toddler is climbing on the kitchen counters again, trying to flood the sink. I guess this is what it was like after all, I'm raising my toddler self.

[muirmarie]

i am Thinking (i am scheming)

recovery

strip poker (i mean this is what it says on the tin, tbh. mccoy is so emotional he's actually incredibly hard for kirk to read, meanwhile kirk can read spock like a gd book. spock is solely focused on at least beating mccoy. mccoy isn't playing to win, he's playing to make them lose. rampant cheating is involved.)

golden hour (mccoy gives spock an old camera. spock becomes obsessed w/ being able to capture emotions in the viewfinder that he won't allow himself to say. james t kirk in the golden light of the dawn. you could make a religion out of that.)

vulnerability (*eta - operation annihilate where vulcans don't have a second set of eyelids, and mccoy works himself half to death for three weeks to figure out a way to cure him anyway, and then they all have to deal with the fallout. (this'll probably be the next one)()

sandwich (mccoy is in the middle because i yam who i yam. *eta - this might be a 5+1 space forgetties stories actually tbh. aka 5 times spock and kirk thought they were dating mccoy, and 1 time where mccoy gives in to the inevitable - OR maybe i'll move that to something else and use this for frottage LMAO we'll see idk idk*)

why does janice keep bringing 3 meals to kirk's quarters (this is for NON-sexy reasons initially!! and then it turns out the entire ship is taking bets on when they're going to admit to being in a relationship. they extremely are not. but then they're hyper-aware of how everyone's perceiving them. and then they still aren't. and then they are.)

a fourth wheel (hmmm 4/5(chapel?)+1 one of the rest of the main crew feeling like a fourth wheel on various things. the 1 is when they're all hanging out together and just glad to see the triumvirate happy)

cave(s) (might use the story i'm actually writing right now tbh. alternatively the dubcon all my yesterdays that i've been thinking about. mccoy doesn't want spock like /this/. but he doesn't stop him. doesn't try to stop him. doesn't want to consider the idea that if he tried to stop him, he might not be able to. doesn't know how they could walk away from that. far better not to try.)

mccoy makes breakfast (eh probably self-explanatory - *eta - i know what i'm doing w/ this. bones can never tell jim no.*)

late night walk (i have been on too many late night walks to not have a sketch of an emotion for this.)

chained to the bed (...mccoy is going to be the one chained. but proooobably in a. hmm. in a less than friendly situation. and then rescued. i don't have a plot for this, i just know who i am.)

scotty doesn't know (i mean honestly the comedy of scotty just being like "love hanging out with the guys" while the guys keep smooching and he keeps missing it entirely? writes itself. [narrator: it did not write itself])

free space (is that gonna be the spock & mccoy can hear each other's thoughts story??? all signs point to yes. this one will be long.)

bdsm (mccoy does NOT want to hurt kirk, and it's spock who has to kind of sit him down and be like. remember how you're so big on releasing emotions? have you considered this is what jim needs help with? and mccoy genuinely turning out to to be the best, most loving dom? and GENERALLY spock is just. chillin. supportively. but then one time he. needs. it as well. i have never written anything like this before, but i think i can swing it.)

flexibility (*eta - ummm mccoy is mistaken for a courtesan (a highly respected profession on this planet) and due to translation hijinks this isn't discovered right away, so there's some shenanigans, meanwhile mccoy is living his best life getting makeup tips and teaching the planet's courtesans yoga (which is where the prompt comes in lmao))

create or destroy - obsessed w/ this, have no idea what i'm gonna do with it tho

war (*eta - some thoughts here*)

justice (something something the justice tarot card. something something the balance of the scales. something probably sketching the outline but only in relief. something something group character study)

rager (lmao hell yeah. make that vulcan do a keg stand!!!! idk i'll figure this out)

time loop (mccoy dies and kirk breaks his hand on a wall. kirk dies to save mccoy and mccoy breaks his hand on spock's face for not stopping him. spock dies, and he doesn't have to see what happens next, because the day resets. the day keeps resetting. mccoy keeps dying.) (time loops my genuine beloveds)

planet vulcan (*eta - tentatively thinking a sequel to it ends or it doesn't, where they do take their trip to vulcan, both for shore leave AND to pick up ambassador sarek and amanda to bring them to [spoiler for the original fic] for talks - and fyi [spoiler] was RIGHT he IS gonna be [spoiler]*)

hayride (i bet there's a corn maze, too. i bet jim gets hay fever. i bet bones keeps teasing spock about bobbing for apples, and then to his surprise spock actually does it, and mccoy takes one look at spock's damp hair and stretched mouth and throat bobbing as he swallows, and just about dies. kirk is EXTREMELY handsy w/ both of them on the hayride (he's a little drugged up from the meds re: the hayfever). they somehow convince mccoy to get his face painted. there is some sort of game of skill/chance and spock wins them both a small stuffed toy.)

going to a banquet (*eta - actually this has to be tarsus iv related, doesn't it??? yeah.* - actually wait this could maybe be a sequel to 'do you love your neighbor' - i've said before i think a sequel where the crew of the avery gets to be big damn heroes could be fun, and having them at a banquet with mccoy is just......yeah - yeah you get me*)

sun dog (oooof two halos of reflected sunlight on either side of the sun?????? you give this to me???? you give me james t kirk as the sun and his two best friends on either side of him??? mythology, maybe. space mythology. the stories they tell of you when you're dead. the ways you survive. the ways you don't survive but your story does. your love does. the story of your love. it survives.)

caretaking (if i don't find a way to make this h/c with a hurt bones then truly what am i even doing here. taking care of the caretaker. that's the stuff. - *eta actually i might make this that (inherent consent issues, mccoy/everyone, mccoy/spock/kirk) mccoy gets a magical healing cock one tbh. maybe not tho since even tho it ends triumvirate it really is a love letter to bones/everyone. we'll see*)

Here's your updated Mcspirk Bingo Card! Please don't forget to tag the blog in any creations you post. :)

*_*

Thank you again for doing this!

[nosferatvpussy]

distorted lullabies [chapter XXII]

Word count: almost 7k

Warnings: the usual // +18

Pairing: Dracula x reader

AO3 link | masterlist

Summary: Reader plays around with the presents Dracula gave her last chapter. Diana returns. Reader is not feeling so well and Dracula makes an appearance.

A/N: Ah, once in a blue moon, I return. Maybe for good this time? I have two more chapters ready, which I'll be posting next week, and another one in the works.

Enjoy!

___________________________________________________________

“Whoa.” 

I extended an arm behind me to find support on my bed as I saw my own reflection struggle for balance. Once steady, I tried standing again, hiking my pyjamas up so my new pair of Louboutin shoes were on full display.

I understood the appeal once I had them on. None of my high heels managed to give me such amazing legs; they even looked a little longer. And none of my high heels were quite this tall.

I experimented walking from my bed to the mirror posted against the corner of two walls. 

“Practice makes perfect,” I muttered to myself as I dared to venture around the room. 

A few steps gave me more confidence that I would be able to walk tomorrow without twisting my ankle. The same couldn’t be said for my pinkies. I would have to hold a funeral for them both after I left the Opera with Dracula.

Below me, on the first floor, I heard the back door open.

“Y/N? Y/N, I’ m home! Are you here?” Diana’s voice carried up the stairs, making me smile at once.

“Di! I’m up here! I’ll be down in a minute!”

I tried hurrying to the bed, arms outstretched to find balance, and kicked myself on my calf. With a yelp, I fell on top of the mountain of pillows, face first. 

“Y/N?” Diana said from inside the room. I raised my head, strands of hair falling over my eyes, and saw her standing next to my door, grinning. “ What are you doing?” She chuckled.

“Trying not to break my ankles,” I replied, kicking my legs up and swinging them to show off the cause of my affliction. “I’m training for tomorrow.”

“I never took you for a Louboutin girl,” she said, plopping next to me on the bed. I turned on my back to reach and pull her into a hug. Her silver hair fell on my face and for a minute I was drowned in her perfume. “It’s good to be home. Have my darlings behaved well?”

“They did wonderful,” I answered when she let go and lied by my side, our heads turned to each other. “No scratched armchairs this time. Though I don’t know how I managed to keep them from it. I wasn’t around much, to be honest,” I finished apologetically. “Have you been to see them yet?”

“Yeah, I just spent the past minutes getting meowed and yowled at. They were quite cross with me this time.”

“Weren’t you supposed to be back tonight?”

“Glasgow was wonderful but can’t quite compare to London. I missed home and managed to anticipate my flight.” She tapped my leg, brown eyes glittering. “Louboutin’s, huh?”

“Dracula’s treat. You won’t believe the dress either.” I pulled the shoes off and hopped from the bed to the closet. Plucking the hanger out, I turned around dramatically to show Diana the dress. She gasped with the same amount of drama. Muttering words of appreciation, she ran her hands down the fabric, barely touching it as if afraid to ruin it somehow. “He’s taking me to the opera tomorrow. I don’t think it’s this fancy nowad-”

“Who cares, it’s the bloody opera. Make a show. God, this is stunning! Oh, and I have just the thing to go with- a fur stole in black that you can wrap around your shoulders- and oh! My pearl choker will go wonderfully with it as well.”

I smiled gratefully at her offer, glad that I didn’t have to ask her to lend me anything.

After she finished wooing and cooing over the dress and shoes, we both sat down on my bed again as one subject piled over the next one. She told me how everything was seeming to go her way on work, and how she had an accidental date with the head of operations from Sweden - which was very exciting news, especially because Diana had refused dates ever since she became a young widow at 37, almost fifteen years ago. Then I told her what I could of Mallory, and how things were going between Dracula and I. 

I watched her carefully each time I mentioned his name for any sort of tell, but none came. I had expected some reaction, anything to show that she remembered having  been bitten, but she listened attentively to what I said and commented here and there as if she had never hinted at Dracula being dangerous for unspoken reasons. 

We chatted until our mouths became dry and our stomachs grumbled for lunch. 

“Let’s order in,” I suggested.

“Ugh, no. I ordered in for a whole week when I wasn’t having business lunches out. I want homemade food.”

“We’ll have to drop by the supermarket, then. My fridge is pretty empty and I cleared yours earlier today of spoiled food.” I made a face to add to how unpleasant that experience was and Diana smiled in thanks. She knew how much I hated cleaning the fridge. 

“You’re a saint.”

“I know. You can cook lunch as a thanks. It’s the least you can do after I managed to clean your kitchen without vomiting.”

She laughed.

“So dramatic. I’ll cook if you help out, and we’re using your kitchen.”

With that settled, Diana waited while I changed into proper trousers, trainers and a grey wool duster coat, and off we went. 

Diana insisted on going to the Sainsbury’s on the other side of Clapham Common instead of going to the Tesco down the road. There were more options, she said, which wasn’t wrong but also a way longer walk, and Diana was determined not to drive. Depending on how much we shopped, we would have to take the tube back home. 

Despite my initial complaint, the walk in the cold sun of approaching winter put a big smile on my face. We kept our heads high, basking in the rare sunlight and clear blue sky, as we muttered to each other from time to time while people went about the park with their dogs.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” She asked suddenly. “It’s Thursday.”

“Renfield let me work from home today and tomorrow. I don’t have court until next week and he said a few days at home would do me good to concentrate.”

“That’s kind of him.”

“More than usual,” I agreed. “I usually have to ask permission and this time he simply gifted it to me. He’s trying to keep me from being bullied by Hayes until tomorrow.”

“Ah, there’s that,” she said quietly. “You’ve got to give him your definite no.”

I took my eyes off the bandstand ahead of us to glance at her. 

“You can say it,” I murmured. 

“Say what?”

“That you disapprove of my choice.”

“I don’t, but I don’t approve of it either. I don’t think I’m supposed to have an opinion on the subject, nor should anyone.” She eyed me. “It’s your life, Y/N. You’re a grown woman. I’m sure you’re tired of everyone telling you what to do. If you’re expecting me to tell you off like Mallory did-”

“Mallory didn’t have a chance to tell me off for not accepting the promotion.”

“You know what you’re doing.” She nodded, smiling lightly. “I know that the Count is not forcing you to do anything. It’s your choice and you chose him.” She nodded again. “That’s what got Mallory so bitter. She’s never experienced something quite this strong, I think. She doesn’t get it.”

I grinned, breathing deeply and letting go. Feeling supported at least in some aspects, even if she didn’t know the whole of it, was much better than I expected.

“You get it, though, because of Gerard,” I guessed.

“Exactly. Gerry was the one. I chose him for the rest of my life and he’s gone but I still choose him, forever. It’s so cliche but I know that even after I die, and if I find someone to spend the rest of my days with, it won’t be someone else I’ll meet. It’ll be him.” She smiled, cheeks warming. I inspected her eyes for a trace of tears but there were none. She spoke of him with true fondness. At some point, it must stop hurting and you just miss the person you lost. I smiled back at her and rubbed her shoulder. “Is that what you and Dracula have?” She asked, watching me closely.

“One day. We’re getting there.” 

The words tasted bitter.

“You know, Gerry and I fought a lot, too, in the beginning.”

“Really?” I asked, genuinely surprised. Diana had always painted a picture of a flawless relationship - the kind you only see in movies.

“Oh yes. When we first started dating he was unbelievably jealous-” she went on and I nodded and smiled automatically but I was only half paying attention to her.

Something about the way the man walking on the path parallel to ours reminded me of someone. He had the distinctive heavy stride and wide stance of somebody who packed a lot of muscle beneath his clothes. 

I kept my gaze on Diana so I could watch him from my peripheral vision.

Our paths were drawing closer as we approached the bandstand. All paths from Clapham Common led there, right to its centre. 

I risked a glance to see if I recognised him, but I barely had the chance to take in his profile before he turned towards a path behind the bandstand, putting him entirely out of sight.As we left Clapham Common behind us and Diana started listing all the things we had to buy, I put the man out of my mind. It was no use trying to identify a stranger I had barely seen. 

Inside the supermarket, as always, I pushed the trolley while Diana picked things off the shelves. Sometimes I picked something for me, too - this time it was a bottle of wine and some Danish biscuits. 

As Diana stood in front of the fish counter, leaning to inspect some fresh fish laid on ice, I kept my breathing shallow. 

“Trout, trout, where is it…” I heard her murmur.

“We’re eating fish today?” I asked, trying to keep the scowl at bay but my tone must have announced my disgust. 

“You love fish!” She protested. 

“I do. I do!” I repeated when her expression became even more offended. “Di, I love when you make it, especially when you make it.” She took her cooking very seriously and I needed to repair whatever damage I had caused with a simple question. “But those don’t smell good.”

A blond man next to us stopped inspecting a large salmon when he heard me. 

“Fish always stink, Y/N,” said Diana.

“I know but they stink worse than usual.” I screwed up my nose. “Swear, they’re about this much to rot.” I measured how much between my fingers.

The man gave the salmon a lasting look and left.

“Fine!” Diana threw her hands up. “What do you want for lunch then?”

“Oh, Di, I’m not saying you can’t take the fish for you to eat-”

“I won’t take it now. I’ll keep thinking it’s rotten because you said it.” She gave me an annoyed look. “No fish then.” Her brows unfurrowed as she spotted an announcement for venison and sirloin with reasonable prices. “Oh, the meat counter is already crowded. Will you stand in line while I pick up the rest?”

I agreed almost immediately to save myself from the boring task of pushing the trolley. She gave me instructions on how to choose and how much she needed and sent me off. 

Settling behind an elderly couple, I pulled my phone from my coat’s pocket and found a text from Dracula. 

All black?

Beneath it, a picture showcased a black suit, shirt and tie laid on the bed. The tie had a slight shine that indicated it was silk.

For tomorrow? I like it but your dragon pendant would do more justice to it than a traditional tie. 

I texted back and then another one as he typed:

Shouldn’t you be asleep? It’s early for you.

The three dots that indicated he was typing stopped. A second later my phone rang. 

“Hear this?” He asked as soon as I answered. Music came through the line, the synth drumbeat hitting my eardrum in annoying repetition. “I should be asleep but can’t.”

“Neighbour?” I asked cautiously. My memory was very fresh with the knowledge he had killed his neighbours for the opera tickets.

“No,” he said. “Renfield is making a racket organising this thing. I simply asked him if there would be music and now he’s here with a group of musicians, if you can call them that. Music techs and a DJ. They’re testing the sound for Saturday.”

I stifled a laugh. A DJ. What was Renfield doing ? Giving me two days to work from home while he organised his own party at Dracula’s with electronic music? Was he on drugs now? I didn’t even know he liked music. He always seemed like the kind of man that loathed any kind of noise. 

I could only imagine the look of complete annoyance on Dracula and the regret he was feeling for offering his own home for the ordeal. 

“Couldn’t they have tested it on Saturday or later when you weren’t sleeping?” I asked.

“Renfield wanted to make sure there were no mistakes and the musicians couldn’t come later. They are booked all nights of the week.” 

“Aw,” I made sympathetically, although I was grinning. His tone almost sounded like he was pouting. “Is there anything I can do?” 

“I would appreciate the company until night falls.”

“I need to work this afternoon,” I reminded him, swaying on the balls of my feet impatiently. I bumped into someone as I did so and smiled apologetically to the blonde man I had accidentally shunned from buying the salmon. He sidled past me to the fruit counter.

“The musicians should be gone in a few,” he argued. “They won’t bother you.”

“I told you when I left yesterday. I can’t work with you around.”

I had tried working while I stayed there the past nights. Tried being the key word. 

A light chuckle from him.

“You can control yourself.” 

“You can’t,” I shot back, raising my eyebrows. “If I so much as sit down on your dining table with my computer, you’ll give me that look.”

“What look?”

I turned around from the elderly couple in front of me and checked behind my back to make sure I was still the last person in line. 

“The look that you’d rather have me on top of the table instead of all my things,” I whispered into the phone. 

“Oh, there’s an idea.” His voice lost all of the previous annoyance and became an almost purr. “I was thinking more along the lines of you lying in bed trying to concentrate on work while I had my face between your legs.”

My cheeks warmed furiously and I stuffed my face on my hand, as if any unsuspecting shopper could tell I was blushing because of dirty talk. Worst of all was that I had to cross my legs to put a stop to the sudden throb that surged up. 

“Shut up , I’m at the supermarket.”

“You started it.” He chuckled. Then, changed the subject much to my relief. “I wondered where you were from the background noise.”

“I’m here with Diana.” I raised my head from my hand, catching the eye of the same blonde man. He looked away. “She managed an earlier flight,” I said absentmindedly.

As if my gaze was a magnet, the man looked at me again. He turned away, fumbling with his basket as he shuffled on a heavy step similar to the man in the park. 

Then, out of nowhere, my brain pieced it together.

The guy from the park was the waiter in Evelyn’s wedding. That’s where I recognised him from. And now he was watching me shop. Raoul - that was his name - Zoe’s planted merc that was supposed to trigger the plan once I said the word. 

Anger had my feet moving before my head was quick enough to think about what I was doing. 

But what was the worst that could happen? This was a public place. The worst was a scandal as I accused a stranger of stalking me, and best case scenario I could scare off Zoe’s spies to leave me alone.

“I gotta help Diana with something,” I told Dracula, interrupting him mid sentence. “Talk to you later,” and hung up. “Hey. Hey!” I hurried after the man, who was taking even bigger steps away from me. 

Thankfully, as he tried to make a corner on the dairy aisle, a trolley steered by a kid blocked the way. The kid’s mother apologised profusely, asking if blondie was all right. 

“Hey,” I said again as I stood next to him, my heart beating in my ears as I dared to confront him. “How long has it been?” I exclaimed in my friendliest voice. 

From up close, I could see that his eyes were of a stormy grey and right now they looked a little lost. 

“I’m sorry. You must have confused me with somebody else. I don’t think we’ve met.” His French accent made some of his consonantes sound a bit like hisses. 

At that, the woman and her son left. Raoul tried turning his back on me to follow along but I reached and locked my hand on his arm. My fingers barely closed around his bicep. 

“Tell Zoe to quit spying before I call the police,” I whispered fast near his shoulder. He glared at me. “That’s the simple solution. She knows what the other option is.” I narrowed my eyes. “I suppose you know it, too.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He pulled his arm back as he blinked at me.

“Yes, you do .” There was nothing he could say to convince me I was wrong about him. I just sensed it. “Or I suppose you’re eager to end up like your friends at the cemetery?” His mouth became an even thinner line. “Oh, done pretending, good. Is it really worth risking your neck for this?” He didn’t seem to catch the double entendre but that wasn’t needed for him to get the message. “Leave me and Dracula alone before things get out of hand.”

He took a long breath as he stared down at me, and blew it out between ground teeth.

“I’ll tell her,” he finally said. “That doesn’t mean they’ll stop.” Panic flashed behind his eyes. It lasted a second before he managed to conceal it but I saw it. He had slipped. 

“Did you say ‘they’? Who’s they? The people running the Foundation?” I asked. I smiled at him. “See, wasn’t that easy? Now we’re pals. Want to share anything else?”

“I was just shopping,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, and I’m princess Anne.” I stepped back to give him room to run off. “Thanks, love. Remember, things can turn ugly if you keep tailing me.”

He stared at me for a moment too long, as if in thought of what to do with me, then he looked down and around us, and left. 

I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling my phone poke me in the ribs as I did so. I hadn’t let go of it since hanging up on Dracula. 

Steps sounded from behind me and I turned around fast, meeting Diana’s raised eyebrows at my reaction.

“You all right?”

“Yeah, just saw an old client that wasn’t too happy with me,” I lied. I looked over the trolley.“Have we got everything?”

“Think so.” She looked at both my hands and then down at my feet. “Where’s the venison?”

“Didn’t get it yet. He interrupted me. Wait in line with me?”

After that, we returned home and made lunch together. Most of the time, I simply watched while sipping on wine. Diana didn’t seem to mind, although sometimes she would hand me something without a word and I would chop ingredients for her. 

By the end of lunch, my cheeks hurt from laughing and Diana’s wrinkles, slim as they were after years and years of botox, were a little more pronounced around her mouth. 

As I handed another plate for her to dry while I did the dishes, I noticed her looking at me rather attentively. Sitting atop my kitchen island with her legs crossed she looked infinitely younger than her true age. 

“What?” I asked when she didn’t say anything.

“You have hickeys all over your neck,” she sneered. My eyes widened and I automatically raised a hand as if to cover it from her gaze but foam flew up and I stopped myself just in time. Diana laughed. “They’re behind your ear. You probably didn’t see them. Maybe don’t wear your hair up for a while?” She indicated the sad attempt at a bun on top of my head. “I thought you said Count Dracula was a little older than you. Aren’t hickeys a little too immature for him?”

At least I should be thankful that I remembered to wear a shirt with a high collar again. Hickeys I could explain. Bite marks? Hardly.

“He just gets carried away sometimes,” I explained, blushing a little. “He likes my neck, is all.” Diana simpered and I tried not to throw water at her as I handed her a glass. “But yes, he is quite older than me.”

“Quite older?” Her eyebrows shot up.

“Well, by my count he must h-” I stopped. Wrong wording. “I think he’s almost your age.” One of her eyebrows went down, but the other one remained arched in an inquiring way. “You’re 54 now, right?”

“52!” She exclaimed, shooting her foot out to poke my ribs.

“Yeah.” I chuckled at her offended face. “About your age. I don’t know for sure, I’ll have to ask him.” Frowning, I realised I didn’t even know his birthday. He knew mine - probably. I hoped. 

“Will I get to meet him?”

“Sure,” I said automatically. Keeping my eyes on a particular stain that I tried to rub off a knife, I continued. “Tomorrow, maybe. He’ll pick me up and I’ll introduce you.”

We said our goodbyes when we finished cleaning up and I headed up to my room, trying not to think about introducing them and what could come of it. 

Work, as always, was demanding enough to put my mind off of worries and soon I was sitting in bed surrounded by notes, files and pens while music played and I typed a motion to suppress. I made some calls and sent a few emails while trying not to distract myself with more of Dracula’s texts - asking my opinion whether he should wear a waistcoat or not, and if he could come over when night fell. I replied no and then yes to both questions, then hid my phone underneath my pillows so I could focus.

When the sky gained a shade of faded orange amidst grey clouds at almost 4pm, I got up for a snack, then went back to bed where I could do some more work and eat. I rested among my pillows, staring at the ceiling while I alternated between biting strawberries and a toast slathered with butter. Fiona Apple’s Criminal played from my speaker and I sang along, rocking my feet to the beat. The next song came on and I joined the lyrics again. 

At some point I must have gotten carried away and closed my eyes.

An arm circled my waist, pulling me close. It was enough to stir me awake but a light kiss on my shoulder soothed me. I smiled and breathed deep, recognising the scent of Dracula’s cologne. Eyes closed, I snuggled closer so my face was hidden on his neck. In turn, he put a leg over mine, fitting me completely to him. Moving my hips to try to get more comfortable, I felt something heavy over me and slit my eyes open briefly to see my duvet had been unfurled on top of both of us. Warm, just as my cheek to his neck. Unsure if that was due to the warmth created by the covers, I slid my hand between the buttons of his shirt, finding warm skin at my fingertips. 

“Hmm,” I made in appreciation. 

Blindly, I undid the top two buttons of his shirt so that I could properly splay my hand on his chest. His hand closed over mine and made it move side to side in a silent request for a caress. 

I heard him sigh as I obeyed - loud in the complete silence of the room. 

My eyes flew open, meeting utter darkness, and I sat up at once on an empty bed. A dull pain on my head followed the sudden movement.

Perhaps it was the lack of silence in the room that jolted me awake. Nobody could ever sleep with Nick Cave bellowing angry notes about being a real loverman.

Tapping blindly at my side, I found the switch to the bedside lamp. 

Yellow light bathed the room and immediately a stab of pain attacked the left side of my head. My stomach lurched as the pain intensified to a pulsing thud. For a moment all I could do was close my eyes and turn away from the light. I thought my left eye would explode out of my head.  The nauseating pain from a migraine made me whimper as I moved again and my foot connected with something. A crash followed it.

Another stab to my head. 

Nick Cave yelling. The guitar and drums went right to the centre of my head. An annoying buzz vibrating my windpipe.

I dared to open my eyes and saw my laptop laying on the ground where I had kicked it. The light, even dim, attacked my eyes and white blotches appeared on the corner of my vision. I closed them again, reached for the bedside lamp and switched it off. Being engulfed in darkness brought a small mercy to the pulsing behind my eyes and for a second I breathed easier. My windpipe vibrated with every breath, but that unknown buzz was gone at the very least.

All I needed was to get up now and reach my medicine cabinet.

“Fucking hell,” I cried softly. 

The music stopped mid lyrics. 

“What is it?”  I would have jumped if I hadn’t just awakened from a dream about Dracula. His soft voice reached my ears and relief flooded me that he had kept his promise to come over when night fell. 

“Migraine. Help me to the bathroom, please.” I extended my hands to my left, where his voice had come from. Instead of taking them, his arms went under me. My pulse hammered behind my eye. “Slowly,” I warned as he lifted me off the bed. 

I stiffened, getting ready for the inevitable jostling as he took his first step, but it didn’t come. If I hadn’t heard the door to the bathroom swing open, I wouldn’t know he had moved at all. He had carried me twice before in this manner but now it felt a little like gliding in the air.

“Put me down. I need to get some pills.”

“Where are they?” His voice echoed in the bathroom and I cringed.

“Top left of the cabinet,” I whispered. “Put me down,” I repeated. 

“I’ll put you back in bed while I get-”

“No,” I insisted. “My stomach feels weird. I might vomit. Please…”

A shiver went up my legs as my feet touched the cold tiles. I reached around me blindly, still not daring to crack an eye open, and found the toilet with a touch of relief. I stood above it concentrating on breathing in and out and making a mantra not to throw up. I didn’t mind throwing up but the effort of it often worsened my migraines. 

Dracula gathered my hair behind my head, cold fingers sending tiny shocks to my scalp as he pushed a few strands behind my ears. If I wasn’t in such a cold sweat I would have found it sweet, but now I was just glad to have him around as a nearly incapacitating migraine struck.

“I’m all right,” I decided after a while of hovering around the toilet. “Stomach is settling. Get the pills for me? They’re-” Dracula held my hand open and put something tiny in it. “Thanks.” I popped it into my mouth and swallowed hard, wincing. Behind me, the tap opened and Dracula put a glass in my hand. After the pill went down smoothly, I handed him the glass again, then extended my arms for him. “Back to bed?”

This time he simply laced his arms around my waist and pulled me up. I laced my arms around his neck in welcome and crossed my ankles behind his back. My head didn’t threaten to burst like it had by being cradled. 

Sheets rustled as he set me between my pillows. The whisper of papers brushing each other as they were moved elsewhere. Plates clinking. His soft steps, nearly imperceptible and new to my ears. The sound of my curtains being opened. Then, finally, the bed sank next to me as Dracula lied down. 

“Thank you,” I whispered, opening my eyes. I was met with his pale face next to mine, features blurry by the little light coming from the moon outside. “So much.”

“You’re welcome,” he whispered back, and I smiled in return as I closed my eyes again.

I nestled against him, trying not to whine in pain as I arranged a comfortable position. My fingers searched for the buttons of his shirt reflexively and after a while of useless perusing, Dracula moved slightly next to me. 

“What are you trying to do?”

“Feel you,” I answered simply. 

“I can’t warm you right now.”

“I’m not cold.” 

He took my hand and guided it under his shirt.

I moved closer so my arm went completely around him and my fingers rested just where his rib cage ended. A ridge of smooth skin there told me he was stabbed there once before. I kneaded the place, feeling his cold body stiffen and relax to my touch.

“Did you climb through the window?” I breathed out after a few moments of simple caress. “I locked the front door.”

“Patio door. Though I rang your doorbell a few times. I heard the music and guessed you wouldn’t hear it.”

“Asleep, actually.” My brows furrowed in thought and I forced them to relax when that seemed to put more pressure on my head. The doorbell could have forced me awake just as easily as Nick Cave’s music, however, I had to wonder if it wasn’t Dracula’s presence that I had sensed and jolted me awake. “You can make people dream about you, can’t you?” 

“Were you dreaming about me?”

“Exactly like this, except for the migraine of course. So… can you?”

“Yes, I can, but I didn’t do it tonight.”

Tonight.

I had dreamt of him two other times. Once in his car when we were headed to Evelyn’s wedding, and the last time after the wedding, sick with grief while staying at Mallory’s. I wondered which of those times were his doing.

“I think the medicine is taking effect now,” I forced the words out, concentrating on making them understandable. “They make me a bit doped. You don’t have to stay. I won’t-”

“I’ll stay,” he interrupted. 

“Really, you don’t have to. You’re cold, so I know you haven’t fed and I can’t exactly help with that at the moment…”

“I’ll stay.”

“... seriously, you don’t. I’ll be terrible company and-”

“Y/N, shut up and relax. I’ll stay. ”

“All right, all right,” I muttered, echoing his irritable tone, though my lips curled at his stubborn refusal. 

My chest raised and fell as he remained utterly still. Then, his chest puffed for a second and emptied soon after before falling still again. After a while the sound of my breathing seemed quite annoying even to myself but I had little time to pay it any mind as Dracula started following the contour of my waist to my hip. His fingers didn’t tighten around me as they usually did. There was no desire behind it, except perhaps the desire to distract me from the pain and soothe me.

The pain ebbed away in what seemed to take an eternity, but in that time, Dracula never stopped running his hand over my side and soon it was joined by his other hand pressing small points with his fingers on the back of my neck. He seemed to be drawing the pain out through those points, for each push and release made me breathe a little easier. 

“PMS isn’t a thing after I become a vampire, right?” I blurted. “I cannot stand an eternity of that.” 

He laughed, patting my butt. 

“No, it isn’t.” He paused. “Do you usually have migraines?”

“When I was younger, I had them all the time, especially when pmsing. But the crises have become sparer and sparer.” 

“Does something trigger it?”

“I tried my luck with red wine at lunch today. Something with the tannins in it can cause it, I heard. That’s never triggered migraines on me.  Mine usually has to do with stress or when I’m sad or something. ”

“Hm. How long since you had a crisis?”

“Maybe a little longer than 7 months? Last time was when-” after a huge fight with my mother which left us both without speaking to each other since. “It was a while ago,” I finished lamely. “Actually, now that I think about it, today might've been caused by stress…” I proceeded to tell him about my encounter with Raoul and how I saw him following me. 

“I thought they would have learnt their lesson,” Dracula muttered quietly. “Maybe I should be a little more clear next time.”

“I don’t understand what Zoe is so curious about. She’s got nothing since I cut ties with her.”

“You’re easier prey than me.”

I opened my eyes, meeting his very attentive face next to mine. I had a feeling he had been looking straight at me this entire time. 

“Prey? I-”

“She knows you’ve given in. She knows that I’ve bit you. She knows what will happen now.” Each sentence was spoken a little faster than the previous. The silence that followed was either an opportunity to let those words sink in or him trying to keep calm. “You’re easier to capture, dear. It took two tries for Zoe to get me. The first time, I was willing to amuse her. You put a stop to the second time. There can’t be a third try. She’s not that stupid.”

“She might try to make me her lab rat again,” I concluded. My head got a sudden stab of pain again and I groaned. “She’s having me watched so she can choose the proper time, isn’t it? She wants to see if I start showing any signs of weakness, isn’t that right? Zoe always said that when you started biting me I might turn sick.”

He laughed but not with a speck of amusement.

“Yes, she will think that. Zoe only has Johnny’s account of events and perhaps Agatha’s.” 

“Is that not what will happen?”

“How many times have I bit you, Y/N? Do you feel sick at all?”

“Except for today’s migraine, no, but that’s just PMS.”

“Nevermind about what Zoe said about what will happen to you. All she’s done is lie. Did you know that syringe wouldn’t work on me back at the wedding?”

“She said her blood would take you down,” I protested. “That it worked before.”

“Oh, and it would. But needles can’t penetrate my skin. They break. Zoe knows this. She tried to take my blood once at the Foundation.”

“The plan was never meant to work…” I tried sitting up, my mind calling my body to action as I processed that, but the migraine attacked again, exploding on the left side of my head. I yelped and ceased my attempt to move. Tears of pain surged up. “God, make it stop,” I whined.

“Let’s not talk about this. You need rest and this isn’t helping,” he said firmly. “Turn around on your stomach.”

“It’ll hurt worse.”

“It won’t. If you let me try something, it might make it better.” 

“Something you learnt from the doctor you drank last week?”

He chuckled.

“No. Something I learnt in my human years, from the Ottomans. I have never done it myself but I’ve watched it done to other people.”

“What is it?”

“Turn around and I’ll show you.”

With great difficulty, I did.

At my side, Dracula propped himself up on his elbow as he lifted my shirt, gathering it over my shoulder. Curious, I gave him a look from where my head laid on the pillow. If he saw me looking at him, he ignored it. Instead, he regarded my naked back appreciably. I shivered.

“Is that pain or cold?” he asked. In the little light coming from the window, his face was shadowed and I could see only his strong nose and jaw. 

“Neither.” My cheeks warmed. “I like how you look at me sometimes.”

“I like looking at you,” he answered. He touched between my scapulas and drew nearer, the shadow of his frame looming over me for a moment. I turned slightly towards him, and though my head screamed in protest, I endured the dull thud if only to meet his lips with my own. I let go a moment later, resting my head between the pillows and closing my eyes. Dracula swept my hair up and to the side, leaving my back completely bare for him. Then, his fingers slid down, pressing each of my vertebrae, as if counting them on my spine. “Such beauty.”  

I hummed to his voice, not really taking in his words, except that I was too dazed by his touch. He rubbed my skin tenderly, then harder, then softly again, until my back felt hot even under his cold fingers. Again, came the ritual of counting my bones and I found myself counting silently along with him, but abruptly he stopped and began rubbing my back again in such a way that I felt my lungs working inside my rib cage, struggling to sustain the savage caress as he rubbed and squeezed until I was exhausted. From my tailbone to my cervical spine, each bone was counted again and this time he recited aloud in a language that grew ever familiar to my ears, hypnotising me with the sound followed by the soft press of his fingers on my back. 

“Count for me, darling,” he asked.

“18, 19, 20…” And I kept counting to the point where I mixed English with what I believed was Romanian. When he began rubbing my back harshly again, I imagined it was an angry red, but when I moaned it was in delight and not in complaint. A spot near my shoulder was squeezed and pulled, then released. It burnt for a few moments, then as if something wet had cooled over it, it became hard and soothed the pain. As my spine was finished being counted, my ribcage was prodded next and I counted aloud. “Unu, dui, trai-”

“ Trei .”

“Trei,” I corrected. “Patru, cinci, ah…” Where his finger had just touched, the skin was pulled into something cold. Again, it burnt. I moaned and then I was released again, where a dampness swelled and was quickly rubbed away until I was driven to exhaustion again.

He muttered in Romanian - long phrases that could not be confused with anything as simple as counting -  as he kneaded my flesh as if attempting to mold it to his liking. At times, his fingers closed so tightly around me that I thought I might tear but then came that rubbing that shook my body from side to side. Then, my skin being pulled into something cold again, burning white hot for a second and then fading along with the pain in my head.

A cloying scent hung in the air. All I could think about was getting my pain extracted and rubbed away from me at the harsh, warming hands of Dracula.

_____________________________________________________________

@carly-05 @plutonianvenusiangoddess @rheabalaur @deborahlazaroff @thorin-smokin-shield @girlonfireice @mr-kisskiss-bangbang @saint-hardy @xoxodracula @princessayveke @dreamer2381 @25ocurer @vampirescurse @blue-serendipity @sunscreenfeverdream @iwasjustablur @daydreaming136 @hello-itsbarbie @bittenlove @newyorkrican922 @soph3228 @feralstare @clussysposts @jmor27 @spnkpholland @goddessofmischief03 @mistandmoss @luciahoneychurch @candleslut @theswiftnational @soulofsalt @werwulfy @skelior @cesspitoflove @hiphop-gir @mymindpalaceismywonderland @lddracula​ @festering-queen @rainbowgoblinfan @sweet-delila @jar-of-moondust

[moralesispunk]

Old Guys Rule

Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Summary: With a birthday coming up, Frankie's insecurities about the age gap in your relationship start to get the better of him

Warnings: legal age gap relationship, insecurities about said age gap, mentions of children but no mentions of how they came to be in the relationship

I found this hat in a shop in Cornwall and I had to write this!

"Are you wanting to do anything on your birthday? I was thinking about booking a table down at that Italians you like and asking your Mom to watch the girls but if you have plans with the guys I can find a different day?" you looked over your shoulder at Frankie from where you had been scrolling through the booking page of the restaurant.

"Hmm? No, dinner sounds fine," Frankie answered, his head not lifting up from his phone as his face stayed firmly unbothered.

"We don't have to do anything if you don't want to..." you trailed off as you turned back to the laptop that was resting on the kitchen counter, not convinced by Frankie's response.

"What?" you could tell that his head had whipped up to look at yours now you had turned around, "No, dinner sounds good, yes. Thank you."

You didn't answer, instead scrolling up and down on the page for a minute as you tried not to take his response too personally. It had been a while since you and Frankie were able to go out for dinner just the two of you, finding it more difficult to get some alone time since the new baby came along and you now had the two girls, so you thought he would like the idea of a romantic dinner alone.

You could hear Frankie's footsteps pad across the kitchen floor until he was leaning against the counter next to you. Avoiding his gaze as he crossed his arms over his chest, mimicking the way his ankles were now crossed over one another, you filled in the booking information before closing the laptop. Without looking at him you turned in the chair to stand but Frankie's hand fell on your wrist stopping you.

"Hey," his voice was soft, "I do want to go out for dinner with you and thank you for booking the place that I like, I just-." Frankie sighed and let you wrist go before dragging his hand down his face as he let his eyes drop to the floor, "I'm just not looking forward to this birthday. I'm in my late forties now!"

"I think you're still mid-forties."

"So much better," he rolled his eyes.

"So you're not looking forward to your birthday because... you're going to be a year older? Forty-six years and thats you just realising how birthdays work?"

"It's not funny."

"I'm not laughing, I'm wondering why that's upsetting you. Whether or not you're looking forward to it you can't stop it."

"You'll make fun of me if I tell you why," his foot was swinging out in front of him before crossing it back over the other again.

"Maybe, but we've been married for six years so I think I'm allowed to make fun of you."

A smile was tugging at the corner of Frankie's lips when he finally looked up to you, his head leaning slightly to the side as he met your eyes. Frankie loved everything about you but he especially loved how relaxed you made him feel. Even though he wasn't in a good mood when you started talking birthday plans, instead of giving in to it you pulled him back from it. You had done it ever since you met him. Frankie could tell you, and has told you, his deepest, darkest secrets and fears and you don't shy away. You don't pull him further into the darkness; you just listen and make him feel comfortable until you help him out the other side.

"I know there isn't a bigger gap between us now that there had been when we first started dating because thats not possible but it just feels bigger now? Like, you're still able to keep up with Sofia when she runs rings around us even after you've been up all night with the baby. You don't have to hold the menu back to read it more clearly when we got out for dinner. You don't have to think about having a sore back for a week if we fall asleep on the couch when watching a movie. You don't even fall asleep when watching movies at eight at night but somehow I do!"

You let his breathing settle a little before you pulled him to stand between your legs, resting your hands on his chest.

"Is it about all these small things or is there something bigger to it?"

You tilted your head to catch his gaze as Frankie's eyes fell to the floor again, stopping him with two fingers under his chin and lifting his eyes to meet yours.

"I just worry that you don't want to be with an old guy like me," he sighed, his hands resting on your thighs.

"I'll have you know that I love that your an old guy. I fall more in love with you every day as you get older. I love that you run around enough with Sofia until you're tired because you don't want to stop. I think you're cute when you have to squint at the menu because you're too stubborn to get glasses, even though I think you would look very handsome in them. And I like giving you back massages when it gets sore because its just an excuse to get my hands on your very sexy, super hot, handsome DILF self."

Frankie barked a laugh, his forehead falling against yours as his hands reached up to cup your face.

"I love you so much, you know that."

"I do, and I love you."

His lips found yours, pressing a soft kiss to them. Just as his mouth opened to push his tongue into yours the sound of tiny footsteps running into the kitchen pulled you both away.

"Mama, Papa!" the voice cheered as Frankie leaned down to swing Sofia up, groaning as he did so.

None of what you had said to Frankie was a lie. You truly did love him more and more every day.

As time went on it had been kind to Frankie. He had fought off his demons for the most part, nightmares only sneaking in every so often, and it showed. He carried a lightness with him, not being weighed down by his past anymore. His eyes crinkle at the side when he smiles, which he does more now than ever. His face has filled out a little more in a healthy way. His jaw is also covered in a patchy beard that now has spots of grey that you love the most even if Frankie doesn't believe you.

❀❀❀

You let Frankie lie in on the morning of his birthday, getting the girls up and ready so you could have a lazy breakfast together before you dropped them at their Gran's while you and Frankie go out for dinner. After sorting out a breakfast, having to start again after Sofia wanted to help and ended up spilling the batter over the countertop instead of in the pan, you carried it upstairs with the girls in tow.

Frankie was already waking up as you opened the door, his face lighting up with a wide grin when he spotted you balancing the baby in one arm and carefully carrying the tray in the other as Sofia carried bags of birthday presents.

"Happy birthday," you and Sofia chimed with a small gurgle coming from your side.

"My beautiful girls, thank you!"

Frankie lifted Sofia onto the bed with the presents, settling her into his side, before taking the tray of pancakes from your hands. Once it was safe on his lap he lifted his head, catching your lips in a kiss, before you sat across from him.

You managed to get through breakfast before Sofia had spoke about opening the presents again and once the tray was placed on the bedside table you got to opening the gifts. With baby girl back asleep and placed on Frankie's chest, Sofia pulled the paper off them more so than Frankie, handing him the opened presents as he thanked you all. Once all the presents that were on the bed were opened you leaned across and pulled another from your bedside.

"One more," you smiled knowingly and Frankie narrowed his eyes at you as you handed him the small bag.

He snaked his arm from around Sofia, holding baby girl close to his chest as he put his hand inside the bag and pulled out a hat.

"Oh a new hat, thanks babe I love-" he stopped when he read the front, looking at you with a grin on his face.

"What does it say?!" Sofia asked, pushing her head in front of her Dad's to see the cap he was holding.

"It says Old Guys Rule!" you exclaimed.

"Because Dad is old," Sofia flung her head back in a fake laugh that bellowed around the room.

"Is that right?" Frankie tickled her sides until she was giggling for real and her head was lying next to her sleeping sister's on Frankie's chest.

"Dad is old, but he's still cool isn't he?" you reached across and pulled Sofia onto your lap as she nodded.

"How does it look?" Frankie pulled it onto his head, a little wonky as he was only working with one hand with the other resting on the tiny body on his chest.

You and Sofia both put your thumbs up and you laughed.

"Four out of four thumbs up!"

"Thanks babe," he chuckled, lifting his hand to settle the cap a little tighter on his head.

"You're welcome, you look even more handsome today. Forty-six suits you," you winked and he smiled.

Yes, Frankie was getting older but he was becoming happier and healthier and you were falling more in love with him every single day.

//

Permanent tag// @phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 @sarahjkl82-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @blackmarketmummy @bison-writes @dihra-vesa @queridopascal @sfr99 @rosiefridayrogersunday

[conretewings]

Both are Possible

-Welcome to my day five entry for the Arcane Parenting Week event. I had a very difficult time choosing today's theme as I had a solid idea for each but ultimately went with "Duality"

"C'mon! Ya can do better'n that! Focus!"

"I'm-I AM!"

"No you're not, I've seen ya do it before!"

This rapid-fire exchange happened in between punches in a secluded side alley behind the Last Drop, one that had become Vi and Vander's 'gym' as he trained her in the fine art of hand-to-hand combat.

Her small hands were wrapped with multiple layers of rags for cushioning as she faced her arch nemesis of...Vander kneeling while wearing an old pair of boxing gloves. They'd been at it for a while and she was visibly beginning to tire, though she swore she was still 'ready to kick his butt.' She dug in her heels for power before lunging forward and swinging at his left hand-and his right came around to carefully but swiftly knock her on her backside.

She lay there, cursing and panting while he sighed, "I keep tellin' ya to watch, think ahead. Your opponent'll probably 'ave two hands ya gotta anticipate and guard!"

"Ugh!" she spat with frustration, slapping the ground and raising puffs of dust before clambering wearily to her feet. Wobbling a little, she wiped the worst of the dirt and sweat from her face and moved herself into a starting stance, "Yeah yeah I know! Let's go!"

Vander paused; he could see her unsteadiness, the exhaustion setting in, how she was fighting to well, keep fighting, though the fiery determination in her blue eyes was no dimmer. Her body was clearly at it's limit, and if he didn't put a stop to this he knew she wouldn't. Frowning, he stood, removing the gloves and she tilted her head curiously.

"We're done for now." he declared, and she instantly stomped her foot, ignoring how that simple act made her lose her balance for a moment.

"Bullshit!" she spat, taking her stance again, "I'm not done yet!"

"Yes, ya are. You're barely able to stand right."

"I'm fine! Fight me old man!" she shouted, darting forward and taking a swing at him. He easily caught her fist in his much larger hand, holding gently but tightly as she struggled.

"Violet!" he barked harshly, and she froze at his tone, glaring indignantly at the ground.

In that same tone he continued, "Ya know what happens when ya keep pushin' yourself? Ya get injured, then ya can't fight at all, or take care'a yourself or anyone else, and then what eh? Survival ain't just about bein' strong ya gotta be smart too! Ya gotta know when to fight 'n when to rest! So be smart and take a breather!"

He let go of her hand now and she stepped back, albeit shaky and crossed her sore arms, trying not to let him see her wince. He was right, he always was, as much as she was loathe to admit it. Exhaling loudly, his own annoyance gone, Vander knelt again and spoke much more gently to her.

"Ya know I give ya grief 'cause I care 'bout you guys, right? This city, this world is cruel, and it'll eat ya alive if you're not ready. All I want is to give ya a, pardon the pun, fightin' chance."

Vi nodded, still silent but her anger was gone, slowly being replaced by the fatigue she'd been trying to ignore. She knew he loved them, and her young mind was just beginning to grasp the concept that sometimes, people did things you didn't like or want because they knew it wasn't what you necessarily wanted, but might need.

"Truce?" Vander questioned softly, holding out a large, calloused hand, and she finally gave him a half-smile, stepping forward and taking it, "Yeah...I'll get you next time though."

"Ya can try, ya little firecracker," he gave a deep chuckle, carefully scooping her up and holding her against his shoulder as he turned, "Let's head back and get ya some ice."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, melting into him and feeling his strong hand soothingly rub her back-

And not for the first time, it flashed across her mind the first times she'd seen those hands...raised in the air as he shouted and rallied a large group of also angrily shouting people, wreathed in iron and pummeling men into the ground, then suddenly much gentler as they carried her and her sister away from the horror...

Dabbing alcohol on their wounds, making them food or getting them drinks, testing their temperatures when they were sick, providing a hug or encouraging pat and everything else...she knew he'd done a lot of scary things with those hands, and the duality of that against how he was with them all and how he was being now wasn't entirely lost on her...but she didn't care. All she knew was he loved and cared about them.

And that's what mattered.

[linkleship-moved]

Logically, they know they should just accept Nick's help; moreover, they should be thanking him rather than feeling dismayed at the thought of relying on someone else. Such is the pain radiating sharper through their leg with every moment that Link relents, the their instincts drowned out by the pain in their leg.

They push the ragged edge of Nick's tank top up almost to their waist as their fingers fumble with the mechanism of the carabiner hooked into the belt cinched high on their waist. After fumbling with one hand for long enough to look like a fool, Link uses both to detach the scuffed metal carabiner packed full with keys and colorful keychains.

Nick's initial lack of response is surprising as his eyes seem to fully unfocus, his tongue briefly running over his lower lip until they jangle the keys in front of him with a grumbled reminder of what he'd been doing just moments prior. He focuses once more as he plucks the keys from their grasp.

"So, which car's yours, doll?" He asks, trying to find the car key amongst the other keys and decorations.

"Silver Honda Civic with a neon pineapple decal on the back bumper."

"I'll be back before you can miss me." He winks as he strides out to the parking lot.

It's something that encourages Link's idea that he's just toying with them until he's bored and moves on to the next person. They set their undone boot to the side, tucking the laces inside out of pure habit. --- Livio's heart is still racing, blood still rushing from the adrenaline rush he always gets after performing on stage. It's the kind that makes him feel nigh on invincible, bright eyed with cheeks flushed due to the increased blood flow. He's practically sick with an excruciating combination of anxiety and excitement as he hears Chris' name get paired with his for cleanup. He's nodding at Meryl's reminder to not slack off before moving to the speakers, his platforms thumping loudly on the stage floor.

Maybe this could be a chance to impress him!

He muses, squatting to pick up one of the mid-size speakers. It's only because of the combination of his lanky build, long and dexterous fingers, and lean muscle that he's able to lift these ones on his own. Most nights, he doesn't try to; however, Chris is watching him tonight. So, in a half-assed plan to impress his roommate's cousin, he strides confidently forward across the stage...and nearly eats shit when his foot rolls over an electrical cord.

"Wagh!" He yelps, catching himself by planting his other foot with a loud 'thunk' against the stage.

"Livio!"

Chris barrels forward to help balance the speaker threatening to tip out of Livio's arms and onto the stage, the chains of his necklaces swinging wildly with the sudden motion. He manages to help balance the speaker, eyes wide as he and Livio both stand stock still for a few moments to make sure it's stable. Only then does Livio realize he can feel Chris' fingers partially atop his own, the skin much softer than Livio's calloused fingertips from playing bass and guitar for years.

He wants to pull away to save himself any embarrassment. Too late for that... a patently unhelpful voice in his head informs him. He also doesn't want to risk dropping the speaker, the value of the damned thing worth 2 weeks of groceries. In the end, he doesn't move his fingers; instead, he tightens them where they're wrapped under the edges of the speaker and lets himself have this on tiny moment of luxury where he can feel Chris' hands on his.

Of course, as they start the path to the van, his mind begins to wander slightly. He wonders how it would feel to lace his fingers with Chris' as they walk alongside each other to lectures, to Nick's beat up 2007 Toyota Corolla, or just because. A tight feeling of breathlessness squeezes at Livio's chest, though it's entirely unrelated to the speaker pressed to his torso. He longs for those kind of sweet moments, but he's terrified his feelings for the brunette are unrequited. For now, he's content to try and memorize the feeling of their fingers intertwining along the speaker's bottom edge.

Band AU AU

"I'm so disappointed in myself. I saw a super cute guy at the studio when I went in for my consult, but I totally forgot to try and get his number." Link sighs dramatically, dropping their head into thei hand and casting a look over towards Chris.

"C'mon, I'm sure it's not thaaat bad." Chris replies with sympathetic look.

"But it iiiiis," They whine, "I'm probably never gonna see him again."

"You're such a pessimist, Link." Chris laughs, checking his phone as they wait for Ray to finally show up.

"No, but he was tall with some serious piercing work and, just ughhhh." Link groans once more before looking up at him.

"When did you say Ray was supposed to be here again?"

@chris-continues

[marvelous-writer]

i'll be there when you feel lost and alone

Summary: Peter gets seriously hurt on patrol when he’s all alone, mourning the loss of Tony. 

Word Count: 6,823

Genre: whump, hurt/comfort, fluff

Link to read on ao3:

A/N: Part 2 of Whumptober 2021 @whumptober2021

Gunshots echo through the chilly midnight air as Peter runs along the side of the wet brick wall in the alley, dodging the bullets. He pushes off the wall and performs a backflip with practiced ease, aiming at one of the armed muggers and shoots an impact web at him, sending him flying backwards, successfully webbing him against the wall. There are at least ten or so men Peter’s trying to fight off all at once and it’s getting a little tiring, if he’s being honest.

“Nice shot, Peter.” Karen says as Peter lands in a low crouch.

“Thanks, Karen!” Peter shoots back as he jumps back up again, dodging a knife one of the muggers swipes at him.

“Who’s Karen?” One of the muggers calls out in confusion.

“The hell I should know just get him or the boss won’t be happy!” Another mugger yells back.

The bad guys come at him all at once and one of them jumps at Peter with an aimed fist, his hand covered in thick gold rings, which Peter easily dodges. “ You’re coming at me like that? Really, dude? How rude! Wait your turn!” Petre scolds jokingly as he ducks, dodging the next punch the guy throws his way, only for Peter to swipe his legs out from under him. “Petty thieves just don’t have any manners these days.” Peter adds as he webs the guy up to the ground.

Before Peter can get a second to catch his breath, two more men are on him, one armed with a crowbar and the other with a handgun. Peter resists the urge to groan. They’ve been at this for twenty-five minutes now since Peter jumped in and crashed whatever illegal dealing that was going on, and these guys haven’t let up. With each goon he takes down, it feels like two more take their place.

And to make matters worse, Peter is starting to feel pretty dizzy right now with how exhausted and hungry he is. That’s what happens when he doesn’t get more than eight hours of sleep in a week and barely eating, especially with his enhanced metabolism. But he’s trying to ignore the dizziness and the gnawing in his stomach for now.

Fight bad guys now, eat and pass out later.

Peter’s spider-sense tingles in warning at the back of his head as the goon with the crowbar comes at him swinging, while another guy appears out of nowhere and manages to land a hard punch to Peter’s jaw, causing him to stumble. Peter slams into the alley wall, barely managing to duck as the crowbar slams against the wall where his face just was.

“Whoah, man! Watch where you swing that thing!” Peter says as he shoots a web at the crowbar and yanks it away from the guy, causing him to lose his balance. Peter shoots a web at his face, blinding him, and swipes his legs out from underneath him, webbing him to the ground next to the other goons.

Another fist meets Peter’s face, causing him to stumble, but before he can react, something hard slams against the side of his head.

A sharp pain explodes through Peter’s head and down his neck as his vision whites out. He feels himself fall against the brick wall behind him, desperately trying to get his bearings back before another one of these guys gets the upper hand. Peter blinks rapidly behind his mask to clear his vision, only to catch a glimpse of the goon with the handgun aiming it at him as the guy that picked up the crowbar comes at him again.

Multiple gunshots fill the air once again, and one might miss them against the loud rumble of thunder, against the steady rainfall.

Pain explodes in Peter’s left leg near his thigh and in his right shoulder. He squeezes his eyes shut, barely registering himself falling against the wall from the force of the bullets hitting him, crumbling to the alley floor, feeling his head collide against the wall on his way down.

“Dude—you shot him! You shot Spider-Man!” Crowbar dude exclaims in surprise.

“Who cares! Let’s just get out of here before he gets back up!” The gunman yells over his shoulder as the two of them start to run towards the alleyway entrance.  

Peter groans weakly in defeat on the cold, wet ground.

“Peter it appears that you have been shot several times and you sustained a bad blow to your head. Medical attention is highly advised.” Karen informs him in a worried tone.

He manages to turn his head in the small puddle he landed in, seeing that the muggers, except for the ones webbed up, got away.

“C-Crap…” Peter mumbles to himself,  guilt gnawing away at him for letting them escape. Now they were free to continue terrorizing other people, all thanks to him.

Peter grits his teeth as he squeezes his eyes shut against the agonizing pain coursing through his entire body, feeling a few warm tears slide down his cheeks beneath his mask. This is so not how he thought this night was going to go, yet here he is, beaten up and shot, laying in a filthy alley in the pouring rain, soaked to the bone.

He just needs a minute… and then he’ll get up.

Peter lays there for a few moments, until he hears sirens in the distance, feeling the rain soaking through his suit.

“Local law enforcement is incoming. ETA one minute. Peter, you need to get up and seek medical attention.”

Peter groans against the ground as he slowly blinks his eyes open, finding everything to be a bit blurry. “O-Okay…” he whispers as he slowly starts to sit up, letting out a choked gasp when the movement sends white, hot pain through his already pounding head.

When he’s able to sit up, Peter leans against the brick wall for a second, gasping in pain as he clutches his shoulder, feeling a warmness dribbling between his gloved fingers. He wants more than anything to just stop moving and close his eyes but he knows that he can’t. The police have been wanting to arrest him for years now since he started this gig. He can’t be seen at the scene of a crime… or a gang take-down. Whatever.

Peter grits his teeth as he braces his good hand against the ground and slowly starts to stand up, fighting through the pain. When he’s finally standing, he has to lean against the wall for support.

“Peter the police are almost here. You need to leave now.” Karen tells him in a serious tone.

Peter looks up and he can see the flashing blue and red lights from here. He doesn’t have much time to escape—a few seconds at most. He braces a hand against the side of the building with his bad arm, hissing through gritted teeth at the pain the movement brings as he starts to slowly climb up the side of the building, pausing a few times as pain tears through his injured shoulder and leg.

When he finally reaches the top, Peter grips the building ledge and pulls himself up with a pained groan. He rolls over the ledge and lands on the gravel-covered roof on his back, facing the dark cloudy sky above. Raindrops land on the lenses of his mask as he lays there in agony, his soaking wet suit sticking to him uncomfortably.

But Peter doesn’t care.

He messed up big time tonight.

He was sloppy and he let the muggers get the upper hand on him.

This is all because he can’t get a handle on his life. He can’t sleep anymore from either the nightmares or his worsening insomnia. He just… can’t… move on.

Not without Tony.

Peter closes his eyes at the thought of him. It’s been four months now since Tony’s funeral… four months since he’s been… gone. It’s been the worst four months of Peter’s entire life.

“Peter, your vitals are dropping dangerously low. Per the tattletale protocol, I’m required to call an emergency contact.” 

“There’s no one you can call, Karen. Tony’s...” He closes his eyes as he breathes a sigh out through his nose. “Tony’s dead.”

Saying out loud only makes it worse—more real.

Karen remains silent as Peter lays there, blinking up at the sky. For a moment, Peter lets himself pretend that Tony is still alive. It’s sick and unfair to himself, but he doesn’t care. He waits for a few moments, for that phone call to come in, to hear Tony’s worried voice on the other end as he chews Peter out for being so reckless and getting himself hurt. Tony always calls him because he has every alert and protocol known to mankind set for these kinds of situations Peter gets himself into.

He also waits to hear the familiar sound of the Iron Man suit, of Tony, swooping in to save him from bleeding out on this rooftop.

But neither come.

The only thing Peter hears is the rain pelting down and his heavy breathing.

Tony’s not coming… and he’s never going to ever again.

A choked sob escapes from Peter’s quivering lips as the retaliation sinks in. He starts to cry there on the roof, letting his grief swallow him up. It feels like forever until his crying subsides to only gasping sobs. Crying only made him even more exhausted, but Peter can’t bring himself to care right now. He just feels weirdly numb and lightheaded.

“K’ren?” Peter slurs out, his tongue feeling too thick in his mouth to form words.

“Yes, Peter?” She responds in a soft voice.

“T’ny’s… gone… right?” He asks. He’s not sure why, but maybe hearing someone else say it will make him believe it, even if it’s his suit’s AI.

Karen is silent for a few seconds. “Yes… I’m sorry, Peter.” She finally answers, sympathy in her voice as she pauses again. “Is there someone you would like me to call for you? Your vitals are continuing to drop and I don’t believe you’re able to make it home in your condition.”

“M’ all good, K,” Peter mumbles, blinking slowly up at the sky as a wave of tiredness washes over him. “Jus’ gonna… lie here… for a bit an’ take a nap.” He slurs out.

“Peter, you need to stay awake.” Karen tells him in a serious voice.

“Jus’ five minutes…” Peter slurs out as black dots dance around in his vision.

“Peter-” Karen’s concerned voice fades away as he lets his heavy eyelids slip shut when his vision completely blacks out, feeling darkness invade his mind, pulling him further and further down.

He doesn’t even feel the raindrops falling on him anymore.

He doesn’t feel cold either.

“Calling Happy Hogan.” Is the last thing Peter hears Karen say before he passes out, unaware of the growing pool of blood underneath him.

…

In the four months since Tony’s death, one thing Happy had told himself, the very same thing he promised Tony all those years ago, is that he would be there for Peter when he couldn’t be. Which is why a few months ago, he took it upon himself to set the kid’s AI up on all of his tech devices at home and on his phone to get any updates from the kid’s suit, with FRIDAY’s help since technology is a little (very) out of his realm.

The only problem is that Peter hasn’t really had any contact with him in the four months since the funeral.

And Happy understands why. Tony’s death didn’t just affect him. It’s affected the entire world, especially Peter. Tony and Peter had such a special bond that wasn’t quite like the normal mentor and mentee relationship. What they had… it was like a bond between a father and son.

Tony absolutely loved that kid, equally as much as he loved Morgan. From the day Morgan was born, Tony would tell her stories about Peter and she grew up believing that Peter was her long-lost brother. And it’s true. In the rare times Peter has visited the Stark cabin, Happy has seen for himself that Peter and Morgan are like mini versions of Tony. Peter might not be Tony’s biological kid… but he sure could fool Happy if he didn’t know.

It’s close to one in the morning and Happy finds himself wide awake, mindlessly channel surfing in his dimly lit living room. He’s debating between watching the Discovery Channel or a cheesy rom-com on the Hallmark Channel to get himself tired when his phone dings with a message. He blindly reaches over to the couch cushion beside him and picks it up and looks at the screen, only for his stomach to drop when he sees it’s a notification from Peter’s AI, Karen.

Multiple GSWs detected.

Vitals dropping.

Emergency medical attention is recommended.

Happy’s eyes widen in shock as he feels cold dread flow through him. He leaps up from the couch and grabs his keys, shoving his bare feet in his sneakers before he’s out the door, running for the elevator that leads to his apartment building garage.

…

It’s a blessing that the tracker in Peter’s suit reads that he’s only a few blocks away. He can only hope that he makes it in time.

“FRIDAY, have Dr. Cho set up whatever she needs to for Peter when I get him to the Compound.” Happy orders.

“Right away.” FRIDAY voice flows through the speakers of his car.

Happy silently thanks Tony for installing the AI into his car all those years ago. Back then he thought it was stupid and unnecessary, but it’s definitely coming in handy right now. It’s one of the best gifts he’s ever gotten. He glances at the map on the touchscreen tablet installed onto his car’s dashboard, seeing that the bright red dot is still in the same location from when he first started driving, meaning that Peter hasn’t moved.

Happy’s grip tightens on the steering wheel as he approaches Peter’s location, the building in his sight.

He slams on the brakes, skidding to a stop as he all but jumps out of the car once it’s in park and cautiously walks in the sketchy looking alleyway, eyes darting around for any sign of danger or the teen, only to find it empty but clearly the scene of a crime that the police had cleaned up sometime before his arrival. There are dents in the side of the brick buildings he can only assume are bullet holes. The sight of them tightens the knot in Happy’s stomach.

The rain has picked up considerably during his drive, only worsening the situation because Happy knows that Peter doesn’t thermoregulate well and he could get sick if he’s out in bad weather like this for too long.

“Peter?” Happy calls out, reaching a hand to the back of his sweatpants waistband under his raincoat where he stashed his handgun he grabbed from the glove box in his car in case he runs into any trouble. “Kid?” he repeats louder, squinting against the rain through the darkness.

He pulls out his phone from his coat pocket with his free hand and looks at the tracker’s location, seeing that he’s now on the red dot. Peter should be here but clearly, he’s not. Happy lets out a frustrated sigh as he pockets his phone and runs a hand through his short, wet hair as he looks up to the sky, only for his eyes to settle on the rooftop above.

The sudden realization hits him like a ton of bricks. Peter must have been able to make it up to the rooftop before the police showed up. The kid isn’t stupid--he knows the police would have taken Spider-Man in and they would have been able to easily catch him with him being injured.

Happy’s eyes quickly scan the building for a fire escape and when he finds one, he wastes no time in getting the metal ladder down by standing on a crate he found, before he’s carefully climbing up the slippery thing.

When he’s up the fire escape a minute later, he’s panting, out of breath and it’s downpouring now, forcing him to squint against the droplets hitting his face as he swings his legs over the ledge and steps onto the gravel roof.

“Peter? Kid, it’s me where are—” Happy calls out, only for his voice to get lost in his throat when his eyes land on the blue and red figure laying on the ground a few feet away from him. Happy’s eyes widen as fear shoots through him, turning his blood ice cold. “Oh my God,” he breathes out as he runs over to Peter’s all-too-still form on the ground and drops to his knees at the kid’s side. “Peter. Kid? Come on, answer me please.” Happy pleads worriedly as he carefully lifts the kid’s mask and slips it off, revealing Peter’s soaking wet, ghostly pale face, his hair sticking flat to his forehead.

Please, God let him be alive. Please. I can’t lose anyone else. Please. May can’t lose anyone else. This kid is all she has left. Please let him be alive.

Happy’s fingers instinctively go to Peter’s neck to his pulse point and he waits for a brief, terrifying second before he feels a faint thumping beneath them. Faint but there.

“Thank God,” Happy breathes out, relief flowing through him.

But they’re not out of the woods yet—not even close.

Happy scans Peter’s body, only for his eyes to land on the bullet wounds, one on his right shoulder and the other one on his left leg, both of which are sluggishly bleeding, the blood being washed away by the pouring rain. But from here, Happy can see that it’s bad.

Shit.

“Kid? Peter?” Happy calls as he gently shakes Peter’s other good shoulder, gently at first and then a little rougher, silently praying to see those baby brown eyes once again, until the teen lets out a weak, pained groan.

It takes a few seconds before Peter manages to open his eyes halfway, looking completely out of it judging by how glazed his eyes are.

“T’ny? S’ you?” Peter slurs.

Happy’s chest tightens with sadness at that. The poor kid is so out of it he probably can’t remember anything.

“No, it’s Happy—see?” He tells him gently as he leans over the kid a little more to shield him from the rain as best as he can.

It takes the kid another few seconds until Happy can see the gears working in his head as Peter looks at him with recognition. “H’py?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s me, Pete,” Happy tells him. “How’re you feeling? Tell me what hurts.” He orders gently.

“M’ head… e-everything,” Peter mumbles as he closes his eyes, brows pulled together in pain.

Happy frowns worriedly as he notices the teen is shivering. He gently shakes Peter’s uninjured shoulder again. “Hey, don’t fall asleep on me. You have to stay awake.”

“Mhmm,” Peter mumbles as he slowly blinks his eyes open once again, seeming to struggle with just that. “S’ hard to.” he admits.

“I know it is, kid. Just stay with me, okay? I’m going to get you out of here.” Happy tells him as he yanks off his raincoat and drapes it over the shivering teen. “Let’s get you to the car, okay?

“M’kay,” Peter mumbles, blinking sluggishly.

Happy reaches down and carefully snakes his hands under Peter’s back and legs, taking in a deep breath before he picks him up in his arms, feeling his back protest against the added weight. Peter lets out another pained groan from being jostled.

“Sorry, Pete,” Happy says as he turns around and starts to walk back to the fire escape, which is going to be a challenge for sure.

He couldn’t go down this building’s stairs and walk inside with an injured and maskless Spider-Man in his arms. That would attract too much attention and suspicion from the residents--not to mention there could and probably are security cameras inside.

So the fire escape is their only option.

“Okay, Pete listen up,” Happy says. “I need your help here, alright? You’re going to have to walk just a little bit so we can get down this fire escape.” He says, looking down at the teen in his arms.

“But m’ tired,” Peter mumbles, words slurring slightly.

“I know you are but I need your help here. I need Spider-Man’s help, okay?”

Peter sluggishly opens his eyes as he slowly nods. “M’kay,” he mumbles.

Happy steps onto the fire escape and carefully sets Peter down on his feet, keeping an arm on the teen’s shoulder to keep him standing when Peter’s face scrunches up in pain. He helps Peter put his arms through the raincoat so he has better access to his hands.

“I’ll go first and I’ll help you down, okay?” Happy says as he takes a few steps down the ladder. “You’ve got this, Pete.”

Peter slowly nods as he grips both sides of the metal railing for balance. They slowly start their way down and Happy keeps an arm out in case Peter slips. They make it one flight when Peter’s injured leg suddenly gives out, causing the kid to let out a choked gasp in pain as he grips the railing in front of him tight enough to dent it.

Happy is quick to brace a hand on his lower back, catching him. “It’s okay—It’s okay. You’re okay. Just take a minute to catch your breath, okay?” he reassures.

Peter’s shaking from the effort of holding himself up. “S-Sorry,” he says as he lets out a pained groan, leaning forward as he leans his forehead against the rail in front of him.

“You okay?” Happy asks, brows pulling together in concern.

“Y-Yeah… jus’ dizzy.”

That definitely isn’t good. Happy looks over his shoulder, seeing that they only have one more flight to go. He looks back up at the teen above him. “We’re almost at the bottom. Just hang on for a few more minutes. Do you think you can do that, Pete?”

“I-I’ll t-try.” Peter says with a small nod.

“Okay,” Happy says unsurely as he takes his hand away from the teen’s back as he takes a step down, ready to catch him again if need be.

When they’re finally down the fire escape, Happy helps Peter down by wrapping his arms around the teen and easing him to the ground, mindful of his injured leg. Peter sways where he stands, clearly absolutely exhausted from their trip down the stairs, as Happy wraps the teen’s uninjured arm over his shoulders and wraps an arm around the kid’s back, leading him towards the car up ahead, the headlights standing out against the darkness.

Happy opens the backseat passenger door up and helps Peter lie down in the back before he runs to the trunk and grabs spare blankets he’d stashed away for a time like this. He runs back to the backseat and gently places one of the blankets underneath Peter’s head for a pillow, while he covers him up with the other one.

Happy eyes the kid worriedly as he reaches down and carefully wipes away a few stray rain droplets from Peter’s forehead. “Just hang in there, Pete, okay?”

Peter shakily nods in response into the blanket pillow without looking up.

Crawling out of the backseat, Happy shuts the passenger door and jumps in the driver’s seat before he pulls away from the alley and all but floors it, mindful of the precious and very injured cargo in his backseat. He throws the heat on full blast in the front and back, as well as the second-row heated seats.

Adjusting the rear view mirror, Happy can see Peter’s pain-filled face, adding to the guilt and worry flowing through him. Judging by those dark circles under his eyes, Peter hasn’t been sleeping these past few days. He knows the kid well enough by now to know that he’s going through a hard time and he’s not telling anyone about it. No one should ever have to grieve alone.

And Happy knows this isn’t the first time Peter has lost someone in his life. First it was his parents, then his uncle, and now… Tony.

Life has been very unfair to Peter. But one thing’s for sure… he shouldn’t have to do it all alone. The kid has a big guilt complex and he never wants to burden anyone with his problems—he just wants to help people with their own problems.

But even heroes need help sometimes.

That is if the people around them care to be invested enough in their lives to see that they’re struggling. Which… Happy knows he hasn’t been doing a very good job of that these past few months.

I should have been keeping a closer eye on him.

Happy adjusts his grip on the steering wheel as guilt sits heavily in his stomach. From now on… he’s going to do better. He’s going to start weekly, no—daily check-ins on the kid to make sure he’s doing okay, and maybe they can even set up a weekly meet-up for lunch. Heck, Happy is even willing to pick him up from school every day.

But for tonight… Happy just needs to keep Peter alive, who’s currently bleeding out in the backseat of his car.

“FRIDAY, what’s the quickest way back to the Compound?” Happy asks.

“Routing course,” The AI responds before the route pops up on the navigation system. “ETA one hour.”

An hour is too much time. Happy glances back in the rearview mirror at Peter, who’s now passed out, still shivering away under the blankets covering him.

Happy looks back at the road determinedly. “Let’s make it thirty minutes.”

…

The ride upstate is a blur as Happy drives as fast as he can, cutting a few red lights along his way out of the city. During those long and tense thirty minutes, Peter half-wakes up a couple of times, dazed and confused out of his mind.

“T’ny?”

“No, Pete it’s Happy,” he tells him, adjusting his rearview mirror again to get a better look at the kid, who’s trying to slowly sit up. “Don’t move, Pete okay? You’re hurt. You were in a fight. Do you remember anything?”

Peter stays down, blinking sluggishly, silent for a moment as his brows pull together in confusion. “Are we fly’ng?” he slurs.

Happy looks back to the highway ahead, which is thankfully sparse of other cars, given that it’s now close to two in the morning. “With how fast we’re going, pretty much,” He answers as he looks back at the kid. “How’re you holding up?”

Peter blinks again as he stares up at the ceiling. “N’ suddenly m’ flying… flying like a bird… like ‘lectricity…” Peter mumbles as his eyes droop.

Happy’s brows pull together in concern. “What? Pete—you’re what?”

The corner of Peter’s mouth turns up into a dopey smile. “We’re soaring… flying… there’s not a s-star tha’ we cn’t reach…” he slurs out as he closes his eyes.

Well, shit.

That’s either the blood loss or the head injury talking.

“Sure, Pete,” Happy says worriedly as he glances at the navigation system, seeing that they’re ten miles away from the Compound. “FRIDAY, is Dr. Cho ready for him?”

“Dr. Cho and her team are prepared and awaiting your arrival.”

“Good. Thanks, FRI.” Happy says as he lets out a sigh.

“Of course.”

By the time they finally reach the Compound, Peter is out cold once again in the backseat as Happy carefully skids the car to a stop right outside of the front doors. He jumps out of the front seat and is about to open up the back door to help Peter out when Dr. Cho and her team walk out through the double doors, wheeling a stretcher.

Happy carefully picks Peter up, still wrapped up in his raincoat and blanket as he lowers him on the stretcher and before he knows it, the medical team is quickly wheeling him inside. Happy rushes ahead with them, keeping his eyes on Peter’s pale face until Dr. Cho stops him as they take Peter away through another set of double doors.

“We’ll take it from here, Happy,” She rushes out gently. “Thank you for getting him here so quickly.”

“Take care of him.” Happy says, coming out more like a plea than anything else.

“He’s in the best hands, I promise you.” She says before she disappears through the double doors, leaving Happy standing there alone.

He stares at the doors for a long few moments as guilt and worry flow through him.

When he turns away from the doors, Happy lets out a sigh as he walks over to the waiting area and takes a seat, rubbing his face tiredly. It’s been a long night and it’s far from over.

One thing he has to do is call May and fill her in on what’s going on.

And that’s going to be a hard phone call.

Happy lets out another sigh as he pulls his phone out from his sweatpants pocket, scrolling through his contacts until he finds May’s number. He taps the call button and puts the phone up to his ear, waiting for several moments until she answers.  

“Hey. It’s me… are you sitting down?”

…

“Kiddo... I think it's time you wake up.” A familiar voice says.

Peter blinks open his eyes, only to find himself laying on a bed in a room he recognizes to be the guest bedroom at the Stark cabin. He frowns, not remembering how he got here.

“There he is.” The voice says.

Peter turns his head to the side, only for his eyes to widen in shock. Tony is sitting in a chair beside him, softly smiling at him.

“T-Tony?” Peter asks in disbelief.

“Hey, kiddo. Long time no see,” Tony greets. “How’re you feeling?”

Peter just blinks at him for several seconds, still not believing what he’s seeing as he slowly sits up. “Uh… l-like I’m seeing-”

“A ghost?” Tony asks with a grin before he breathes out a laugh, shaking his head. “No. I’m not a ghost.”

“What—how are you here?” Peter asks, his eyes widening further. “Am I dead?”

“No,” Tony quickly answers, shaking his head again. “You’re not dead. You almost were though if it wasn’t for Happy.” He says. “I’ve been gone for what, a couple of months and everything’s going off the rails, huh?”

The joke only causes a stab of grief in Peter’s chest. Peter looks down and fiddles with the blanket on his lap as he swallows around the growing lump in his throat as his eyes begin to water. “It’s… It’s been really... hard… without you.”

He hears movement at his side as Tony stands up and takes a seat on the edge of the bed next to Peter’s hip. “I know… I’m sorry.” Tony softly says as he reaches a hand out and places it on Peter’s shoulder, the gesture so familiar and comforting, it hurts.

Peter closes his eyes and feels a few stray tears slide down his cheeks.

“Hey, hey,” Tony softly says as Peter feels a calloused hand on the side of his face, his tears being wiped away by Tony’s thumb.

Peter opens his eyes, seeing that Tony is looking at him with sad eyes, surprised to see his eyes are a little watery as well.

“W-Why did you have to s-snap?” Peter asks him, letting out the question that’s been plaguing his mind since the moment Tony died.

Tony looks down with a small sigh. “Because… I had to.”

“N-No you didn’t.” Peter says, shaking his head, dropping Tony’s hand in the process.

“Yes… it did. I couldn’t have put that on anyone, Pete,” Tony gently says, looking into Peter’s eyes as he cups the teen’s face with his hand. “I had to do it. It had to be me.”

Peter shakes his head, blinking past the tears in his eyes as they continue to stream down his cheeks. “N-No it didn’t. Y-You j-just left us! P-Pepper, M-Morgan, H-Happy, a-and m-me. A-And I...I don’t k-know what to d-do without you.” He sobs out, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Oh, Pete…” Tony says, feeling the man gently pull him forward against his chest. “I’m… I’m so sorry, kiddo.”

Peter breaks down and cries against Tony’s chest, fisting Tony’s green sweater in his hands as he sobs. He remembers being in this situation quite a few times before, being soothed by Tony’s soft voice after a crying session. Peter doesn’t really know how this is happening, or why… but he’s not complaining. He’s always said that he’d give anything just to be with Tony one more time… and maybe this is it.

The thought has Peter crying harder, clinging to his mentor more. He can’t say goodbye. He just can’t.

“Shhh… it’s okay,” Tony murmurs softly, his voice rumbling against his chest. “You’re okay… I’ve got you, Pete.”

It feels like forever until Peter runs out of tears, leaving him wetly sniffing against Tony’s chest as the man gently rocks him, rubbing soothing circles on his back. Peter keeps his eyes closed, praying for this moment to never end.

“I’m so sorry, Pete. I didn’t want to go… I had no choice. It was me versus millions of people. Thanos would never have stopped his mission. I want you and Morgan to be safe and be able to grow up and have lives of your own. Do you understand?” Tony gently asks.

Peter sniffs, nodding against his chest.

Tony sighs softly as he wraps his arms around Peter in a hug. “I hate that I can’t be with you guys. And I know it’s been hard on you lately. And as cheesy as this sounds, just remember—I’m always with you. Okay? And I want you to know how damn proud I am of you, Pete. I always have been and I always will be. You, Morgan, and Pepper are the best things that have ever happened to me.”

They stay like that for a while, until the moment is shattered when Peter hears voices in the distance. He frowns against Tony’s chest as Tony lets out a small sigh.

“I’m sorry, kiddo… but it’s time to go.”

Fear shoots through Peter as he pulls away, looking up at him. “W-What? But I don’t want to go.”

Tony smiles sadly as he cups Peter’s face. “I know… but you have to, bud. They’re waiting for you. They need you, Spider-Man.”

“But,” Peter pauses, his brain racing. He has so many things to say—so many questions. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“I know, Pete and I don’t want you to go, believe me. But I promise you, we’ll see each other again one day, okay?”

Peter’s eyes fill with tears once again as Tony pulls him in for another hug.

“I love you, Peter.” Tony tells him, feeling him press a kiss to the side of his head.

“I-I love you too.”

…

“I think he’s waking up now.”

“Peter, honey? Can you hear me?”

Peter lets out a small groan in response, feeling his body start to slowly come back to him but he still feels weirdly floaty and numb. He struggles to open his heavy eyelids until he manages to blink them open slowly, meeting blurriness. He blinks a few times to clear his vision, only to find himself lying on a bed in a room he recognizes to be the medbay.

This scene feels all too familiar.

“There he is.” a soft, familiar voice says to his right.

Peter manages to roll his bowling ball of a head to the side, expecting to see Tony sitting beside him once again… but he doesn’t. He sees both May and Happy sitting in chairs beside his hospital bed, May is smiling at him, gently squeezing his hand in her own.

It all comes back to him.

Tony’s dead.

It was just a dream.

Peter’s face drops as he feels his eyes warm up as tears start to pool in them. Grief and sadness flow through him all at once, overwhelmingly so.

“What’s wrong, baby?” May asks with a worried frown.

Peter sniffs wetly as he closes his eyes. “I-I thought-” He starts to say, only for a sob to escape from his lips. “I-I thought T-Tony was here.”

“Oh, honey,” May says as he feels her fingers gently card through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“N-No,” Peter says as he shakes his head, wincing as it brings a sharp spike of pain from the movement. “I-I was with him. H-He was there.”

May turns to Happy and they both share a knowing look before they both look at him again.

“Peter…” Happy says, seeming to struggle for words for a few seconds until he closes his eyes for a brief second, meeting his eyes. “When Dr. Cho was working on you… you lost a lot of blood. Your… heart… stopped beating for two minutes.”

Peter stares at him for a few long seconds before he looks away at the wall across the room, processing the information. He’s taken out of his thoughts by May grabbing his hand again, feeling her gently squeeze.

“You okay? I know that’s a lot to take in.”

Peter licks his lips and slowly nods. “Yeah…” he says, blinking a few times. “Do you think that I… was actually with Tony?”

May smiles softly, her eyes tearing up. “You might have been from the sounds of it.”

“He was keeping you safe and helped you come home.” Happy adds in with a sad, knowing smile of his own.

Peter nods with a small, watery smile. “He did.”

“Thank God you’re okay,” May says as she stands up and carefully hugs him, wetly sniffing.

“I’m sorry.” Peter mumbles into her shoulder as he closes his eyes, weakly lifting an arm up to hug her.

She pulls back and sits on the edge of the bed, shaking her head to herself. “I don’t even want to think… if Happy hadn’t gotten you here as quickly as he did. If you really...”

Happy reaches over and takes her hand in his, offering her a reassuring smile. “He’s okay, May. It was a very close call,” he gives Peter a serious look before looking back at her. “But he’s going to be more careful next time and I’m going to make sure he wears the Iron Spider suit from now on.”

May nods in agreement, as she looks at Peter. “Yes. And we’re going to make sure you get your proper sleep. No more skipping curfew.”

“And you call when you’re going to be late.” Happy adds.

“Yes,” May agrees, looking back at him, smiling. “We make a great team.”

“We do.” Happy says with a knowing smile.  

And it’s… weird.

Almost… flirty.

Peter eyes the two of them, raising a brow in confusion. “Uhh… what’s happening here?” He slowly asks.

“Umm…” Happy says, eyeing May nervously.

May breathes out a nervous laugh. “Well… we… kind of just…”

Peter squints at them. “Are you two… a thing?”

May and Happy both look at him like deers caught in headlights.

And Peter feels pretty dumb right now because how the heck did he miss this? He must have a pretty shocked expression on his face because May’s eyes widen nervously.

“Peter--I was going to tell you but you’ve been going through so much lately and I didn’t want to spring this on you. And we’re still figuring things out!” May says.

“Yeah! We’re just… seeing where this takes us.”

May nods in agreement. “Yes. Seeing where life takes us with this and… what road we’re going down.”

Peter blinks, processing this, along with the fact that he was pretty much dead for two minutes.

It’s just a lot right now and it’s making his head hurt more.

Peter just sighs, tiredly smiling at them. “It’s okay--I’m happy for you guys. Really.”

May and Happy both let out relieved sighs at that.

“Wow. That feels good to get off my chest.” Happy says.

“Yeah,” May agrees with a small laugh before she looks at Peter. “Now that that’s settled, you need to rest! How about you try to get some more sleep, okay?”

Peter smiles tiredly. “Okay.”

Sleep. That sounds pretty good right about now.

Settling back down in bed, Peter closes his eyes and tries to fall back to sleep as May and Happy softly talk beside him. He’s close to falling asleep until he thinks of something.

Oh. So that’s where all of those flowers have been coming from.

[pinkcoloredkins]

Quick update for everyone, I apologize for the time in between this and my last update.

I'm still attempting to get into the swing of things as far as managing my work to life balance, and I haven't had time to focus on requests. I really am sorry about this.

About a week ago I finally got a steady schedule and I think I'll be able to plan a time for me to sit down and fufill requests. So, I think I should be able to open requests within the next week granted everything goes well!!