#even when Joey stepped in and made us stop fighting

[booigi-boi]

My body can be found on top of a large pile of fake brown shirts 🐐

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Parry but thwh fell out aftee darry and him had a fight because he laughed at some kids, KID Greasers jumping, (he laugher out of awkwardness) and darry took it as a sign he though it was ok and processed it as a threat ti the gang ESPECIALLY Ponyboy.

They fought alot. It was scary because Both Soda and Pony where homd, and classes and plates got broke, shattered, and lots if door slammimg and threats where thrown at each other. Things where said to a point

darry cried.

Hm, ok, so this isn't EXACTLY this but I saw this ask and my brain was like minific! so...minific. Hope you like it!

***************

“I’m telling you man,” Paul is saying, “the giants have got it in the bag this year, have you seen their defense?”

“No way,” Darry shakes his head, “the Bears are consistent and they’ve got Wade as QB, no way they aren’t taking the superbowl.”

“Wade is fine but he’s not better than-”

He’s cut off by the door slamming open. Normally Darry would have half a mind to yell at whoever slammed it because mom always blamed him and Two for it when Steve and Pony were the biggest culprits, but any thoughts of teasing are forgotten as Steve sprints down the hall without even a hello, Soda right on his heels. Darry’s used to the gang bursting in at all hours of the day and night, it’s how their house works, but something about this feels off. His suspicions are confirmed when Steve hurtles back out again a second later holding the first aid kit. 

“Whoa!” Darry grabs Soda’s shoulder before he can follow, pulling him to a stop, “what’s going’ on?”

“Joey Dubois got jumped,” Soda gasps out, chest heaving, “it’s pretty bad.”

“Aaron’s kid brother?” Darry’s heart drops, “But…but he’s ten!”

“Yeah,” Soda’s grim, “I know.”

“You need any help?”

“Nah. Pony’s sittin’ with him right now, and between Dally and Tim Shepard we got enough muscle keepin’ Aaron from doin’ something he’ll regret. ‘Sides,” Soda shoots a cold glare at Paul, “your buddy here shows his face and he’ll probably lose some teeth. Aaron’s gang is out for blood.”

He claps Darry on the shoulder and then he’s gone, jumping off the porch steps and running after Steve.

“Shit,” Darry sinks into a chair, previous conversation forgotten, and buries his head in his hands. Joey Dubois. He can see the kid in his head, a little guy with a mop of dark curls and a grin that spelled trouble. Him and Pony buddied it around sometimes, and Darry had always thought it was funny when his own kid brother would complain about having to put up with Joey always following him around. Lord knew Pony followed him and Johnny and Soda around the same way. The thought of the bright eyed kid being jumped nearly made Darry sick. He was hardly the first real little kid to ever be jumped in their neighbourhood, and wouldn’t be the last, but it didn’t make it any easier to stomach.

“So anyway,” Paul says, like Soda hadn’t just interrupted and told them about a literal child being jumped, “Wade isn’t as good a kicker as Tittle–”

“--Paul” Darry grits through clenched teeth, “I don’t want to talk about football right now.”

“What?” Paul scoffs a little, “why?”

“Did you not hear what Soda just said?”

“Some kid got jumped. So what? Happens all the time."

“He’s ten.”

“Dar,” Paul laughs a little, “it’s not a big deal. Yeah he’s ten but so what? He was probably asking for it.”

Darry's jaw tightens..

Usually, his friendship with Paul is easy. They get along better than Darry gets along with just about anyone, they have the same interests, share the same sense of humour and the same desperation to get out of Tulsa Oklahoma no matter what it takes. Sometimes their friendship is so easy that Darry forgets what Paul is, forgets where he comes from. 

Paul Holden is a west side elite, as soc as it gets. And sometimes, like right now, he’s so fucking patronizing Darry could smack him. 

Say what you want about him, but Darry Curtis is not stupid, nor is he naive. He’s seen things on the east side that Paul could only dream of, for all he pretends to be normal, comes to their house and bums around the east side like an actor in a movie, looks at Darry’s world,  his friends and his family like they’re an intriguing thought experiment instead of Darry’s very real life. And people can think what they want about him but Darry Curtis is not ashamed of where he comes from. There’s a lot of shitty things about the east side, but there’s a lot of good people here too, and Paul doesn’t get to sit there in his letterman jacket with his madras shirt and act like Darry reacting to a ten year old kid getting jumped is some crazy, childish thing. 

“You do realize,” he can hear his voice rising, “that my own baby brother is only twelve, right? And that the only difference between him and Joey is luck? I know you have no skin in this game so you don’t give a flying fuck about anything, but you could at least pretend to care.”

“C’mon, don’t be like that.”

“Like what?” Darry demands, “Like someone who cares about little kids getting hurt in my own fucking neighbourhood?”

“Like you’re a fucking greaser!” Pauls bursts out, and then suddenly it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Darry recovers first.

“Get out.”

“Darry-”

“I said get out.” 

“Darry I’m sorry I-”

“No,” Darry advances on him, trying so hard to control his temper he’s literally shaking, “no you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to come here, to my house, in my neighbourhood, meet all my friends and my family, and then look down on me for it like I’m some sort of trash.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Paul begs, “I-”

“Yes you did,” Darry cuts him off. He can feel hot tears welling, the way they always do when he’s so furious it’s hard to think, but he forces them back, “you meant it, and I’m fucking glad you did because guess what? I am a greaser, and I wear that title like a badge of honour ‘cause at least it means I ain’t nothin’ like you!”

“You didn’t seem to want that title when I gave you that shirt did you?” Paul spits back, moved to anger himself. Good. Darry can face Paul's anger a lot easier than his repentance. “Or when you started hanging out with me and the rest of the guys from the football team, or when Tammy Crenshaw asked you to Sadie Hawkins!”

“Whatever,” Darry sneers, “I thought you were better than this but once an asshole always an asshole, huh? I can’t believe I thought you changed. You’re the same shallow, entitled, socy asshole you were back in ninth grade.”

“Fuck you!”

“Get outta my house,” Darry shoves him, hard, “and don’t ever fucking come back. I never wanna see you again.”

“Go to hell!” Paul storms down the steps, “and hey, tell that kid brother of yours to watch his back. Since you apparently think I’m such a piece of shit, I might as well prove it.”

The words hang heavy in the air. For a second, Darry almost can’t understand them strung together like that, the threat almost ludicrous coming from someone he’d considered one of his best friends, the only guy from his circle of west side football buddies he’s ever allowed into his house, ever introduced his family to. For all they’re arguing in this second, for all Darry doesn’t know if he could ever forgive him for his words and his cavalier attitude, he’d never believe Paul capable of doing something like that, of hurting his brother.

But Paul just said it. And Paul Holden never says anything he doesn’t completely mean.

Darry sees red.

The next thing he knows the skin of his knuckles is splitting against Paul’s nose and he’s screaming louder than he can remember screaming in a long time.

“You touch either one of them and I’ll kill you! You hear me? I’ll fucking kill you!”

He doesn’t realize he’s got Paul by the collar of his shirt until he feels multiple pairs of hands yanking him back, someone else tearing Paul away from him.

“That’s enough,” Soda’s back. He shoves Paul, lighter than Darry had but enough that it’s clear he means it, “you better get outta here Holden. Looks like you’ve overstayed your welcome.”

Paul spits at his feet. 

“You better watch your back Curtis.”

Soda’s eyes flash. He’s only fourteen but he’s grown half a foot this summer alone, and right now he looks nothing but tough, cold and fierce.

“Unlike you I’ve got six buddies to watch it for me, so I think you’d better watch your back pal.”

The hands holding Darry release him, Steve moving to flank Soda, Dally and Ponyboy on either side of him, all of them- even twelve year old Pony- just a little in front of Darry.

“Beat it Holden,” Steve tells Paul in that low, deadly voice he only uses when he’s real mad, the one that’s ten times scarier than any of his hollering, “if we have to ask again we won’t be so polite.”

Paul's last glare is cutting but he leaves, eyes like quicksilver as he turns away, and Darry finds himself hoping he’ll run into Aaron Dubois or his gang on his way back to the west side. 

When he's out of sight Dally spits on the ground and lights a cigarette, eyes cold and dangerous.

“C’mon, Dar,” Soda claps him on the shoulder, his smile only a little dimmer than usual, “Johnny and Two went to go see if they could russell up a car for the drag race tonight, and you know mom won’t let Pony watch unless you come with us.”

Darry follows his friends- his real friends- down the street, ruffles his brothers’ hair, and quietly mourns a person he thought he knew.

None of the gang ask what happened, not even Ponyboy. Darry doesn’t tell them, and if he sniffles a bit on the walk to the old rodeo grounds where the race is taking place, well, at least he's quiet enough that no one could possibly notice.

[ofrages]

❛ you can always reject your father but you cannot escape your mother’s blood. you’ll scream and try to wash it off of your fingers, but you’ll never escape what you’re made up of. ❜

BOWIE MONROE is a twenty-five year old, resident of blue harbor who currently resides in forest lake with her older brother and works as a pet groomer @ happy tails & freelancer artist. bowie’s gender is genderqueer, their sexuality is bisexual and they use she/they pronouns. they’re single, owner of a bearded dragon named joey ramone, and they always smell of cherry perfume with a lingering taste of nicotine. 

FULL NAME: Bowie Rose Monroe. FAMILY: Jameson Monroe ( older half-brother; wanted connection ) and Miles Monroe ( older half-brother; @fromharbor ). PETS: Joey Ramone, bearded dragon.  AGE: twenty-five. DATE OF BIRTH: November 25th. ZODIAC: Sagittarius. GENDER & SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Genderqueer, bisexual. OCCUPATION: Pet groomer @ Happy Tails & freelance artist.

about bowie. triggers: child neglect, abandonment, sickness (brief mention of cancer), addiction.

bowie was born to elise monroe, a woman who lived her life to the fullest without a single care in the world. even after her children were born, nothing stopped her from being a free spirit. elise left blue harbor at the age of seventeen, when she drove away on her then boyfriend’s bike and didn’t look back despite the yells of her worried mother. she already had a son then, jameson, who was only a year old when he was left to his grandma’s cares. elise was essentially what you would call a groupie —going from one state to another with a band or a new pack of friends that liked the look of her. she was a sight to behold with her bright red hair and a baller to have around. until she fell pregnant again. on the road, it was hard to keep up with the time and before she knew, she was pregnant with her second child. but it wasn’t bowie’s time yet. elise made do and had her baby boy on the road, another one who would be raised without a father figure around.

the years went by as she had the help of friends and random people. that was until she fell pregnant again. she knew she wouldn’t be able to take care of two kids on her own and so, regretfully, she decided to return to her hometown. with a huge belly and a two year old holding her hand, her mother could not bring herself to turn her daughter away. that ended up being the reason behind her parents’ divorce, since elise’s father did not approve of the situation their daughter had put them through. but bowie’s grandma was too nice for her own good and elise found herself a home to bring her first baby girl into the world.

bowie came out of the womb kicking and screaming. red cheeked and blue eyed, she was “already angry with life”, as her grandma would joke. but something in elise changed after her second daughter. it seemed as though the light in her had dimmed and she became even more neglectful than before. bowie’s grandma tried her best to help as much as she could during the first year of her life, even though the old age had started to catch up to her. and a twelve year old jameson had to step up in order to care of his siblings. he didn’t understand much but he saw how much his grandma struggled, and did what he could. elise started to vanish for hours, then days, and then weeks. to the point where jameson started to believe that she would just leave them again — as he never expected her to stay in the first place.

the fights started to happen, as their grandma got sicker and begged her daughter to stick around and take care of her children. elise didn’t have the patience and found herself a house away from the constant nagging. she took bowie with her but left the other two with her mom. bowie would be at the mercy of neighbors whenever her mom would vanish, but no one ever had the courage to call cps on the situation because elise would just cry and promise to be better for her daughter. which she never did. she only worsened. the years went by as elise dragged herself deeper into her hole, becoming addicted to opioids and alcohol. bowie’s grandma wasn’t able to help anymore and when bowie turned three, the old woman passed away of cancer. the children were thrown into elise’s hands once more and jameson became the main caregiver of his siblings. he started to work early on, saving up the money to give them something better than their current situation. and years later, when he turned eighteen, he took bowie and their brother away from elise and found them a place to live.

bowie was raised by her siblings after that and though she was given the best in the situation they were on, she still grew up a bitter teen. and a troublemaker, too. she didn’t know any better, the feeling of being rejected by her own mother before she was even out of the womb had settled deep into her. she knew well, as her mother liked to remember them, that they were never wanted. the three of them were only a mere consequence of her actions. and bowie became resentful and somewhat reclusive because of that. she feared that it would be noticeable and that if people ever got too close, they’d learn the things that her mother knew from the start — she just wasn’t worthy of love at all.

jameson watched as his sibling started to sink and knew he had to act fast to avoid losing her. bowie had always been an artist and he knew how much she liked to paint, especially abandoned buildings and walls she shouldn’t, so he tried to get her to focus on that. maybe major in art after school and when that wasn’t enough to keep her out of trouble, he got her a part-time job at his auto shop.

that helped bowie find that they hated cars. the smell of oil didn’t please them in the least and so they decided to venture to other things. they jumped from part-time jobs until they settled as a pet groomer right after graduating from school. as it turns, they were better at working with animals than with humans, which didn’t surprise anyone. bowie then went from a rebel who liked to pick fights just to feel something and push others away by seeming more dangerous than they actually were to a more controlled, almost-functional human being. it isn’t to say that they aren’t a complete delinquent anymore, as they still like to tag walls and take part in casual vandalism with the few friends who managed to stick around, but at least she isn’t coming home with a broken nose or bloody knuckles. and that’s more than enough for jameson.

currently, at the age of twenty-five, bowie has managed to secure a job at happy trails as their pet groomer and occasionally does freelancing art projects to help pay the bills. they still live with their brother but desperately wants to move away to give him some peace. their middle brother went on his own way but the three are still incredibly close. their mom still wanders about town and, from time to time, bowie will pay her a visit just to ease up her own mind and know if the woman’s still alive. though she has built an image for herself as a bitch who’ll punch you in the face, she has a caring nature, often taking wounded and abandoned animals home, nurturing them back to health and finding them a forever home. and she’s the owner of a bearded dragon, named joey ramone, who’s her joy in life.

[haysprite]

do you have any jeff hcs?

YES ! I love Jeff so much, he's my FAVORITE original survivor (Jill and Bill being my main favs), so I have PLENTY! He means a lot to me as a character as well, so I've put a lot of thought into him and his story alongside The Legion. Once again, a lot of these are my personal interpretation of Jeff's (and Legion's) stories, so just keep that in mind! I'm just grateful I have a good chunk of lore to work with here unlike Legion 🙏

• He didn’t have that many friends during high school, he mostly kept to himself and did his best in his classes. When he lived in Ormond, though, he did interact with Joey, Julie, and Susie a little bit, mainly Joey since they were in a lot of the same classes. He enjoyed talking to Joey every so often, who also tended to stop by the store he worked at to rent movies to watch with The Legion. I also feel like he barely knew Frank, who he immediately did not like all that much

• When not at work or school, he’d typically lock himself in his room and mess around on his guitar, which he picked up rather quickly, both learning songs he enjoyed as well as making his own

• Most of his art at first was just rough sketches and doodles of people (from either school or customers at the store he worked at) and objects he’d find laying around at first, though he started to experiment a lot with cartoonifying them and drawing random shit from his mind as well

• He had a LOT of fun working on the Legion’s mural, spending as long as he needed to make it as perfect as he could. He was super surprised that anybody would wanna commission him, but super grateful since it felt like a huge stepping stone for him

• He has a fascination with Norse mythology, and used to bury his nose in books when he was much younger. A lot of this shows up in his artwork, especially later in life when he started revisiting this interest of his

• Though he was grateful to not have to listen to his parents' constant fighting after moving away with his mom, he absolutely hated how lonely he felt, having nobody at school to confide in. Even when he’d focus on his art and music, he’d struggle to find as much joy in it as he used to, though he continued to work on them since he didn’t wanna give up on the main sources of happiness in his life

• When on the road with his bandmates, he felt nothing but free, having finally escaped the silent hell that was high school and embracing the exciting music filled life he knew he had ahead of him

• Whenever they were stopped to perform one of their shows, Jeff would find something or something to draw or paint to remember the area by, like a memento, so he’d always have that memory

• As rough as the fight he got into was, he didn’t necessarily regret it due to having helped somebody out instead of just standing by and watching them get hurt. The pain is still hard as hell on him some days, and he doesn’t particularly enjoy the scar he was left with, but he refuses to look back at his life with regret.

• Though he missed his band mates and being on the road, he absolutely loved going to art school. He made new friends and found his true passion in his artwork, finding the happiness he had been looking forward to for so long.

• He listens to a lot of heavy metal when he works on his art, finding that it gives him a lot of motivation and drive to keep creating, even when he’s a bit frustrated with his current project

• He LOVES his dog so damn much! He’s such a dog person, and always dreamed of having one, he just never had the opportunity to do so until he finally settled down. That dog was his best friend, and kept him company whenever he was working at home

• Losing his dad was pretty rough on him. He hadn’t seen him since he moved away from Ormond, and did have some regrets about not visiting him a lot. Finding that guitar meant a lot to him, and he found himself confiding in music a lot more than he had in a while

• He had heard something about the body found at the old lodge and the four teens going missing after he had moved, but he knew very little about it other than knowing Joey and the others were gone. He was a bit upset and confused by this, especially since he had known them, though he ended up forgetting about it after a while, only being reminded after he returned to Ormond

• He defo owns a motorcycle, which he loves riding around whenever he’s feeling overly stressed, the feeling of the cold wind as he rides around calming him down

• He designed a good majority of his tattoos, which he spent forever designing since he wanted them to be perfect before getting them permanently drawn onto him

• Absolutely HATES listening to people fight, since it reminds him a lot of his parents. He tends to freeze up before going into fight or flight mode when he hears or sees a fight break down

• Most of his wardrobe is made up of band shirts and jackets, a lot of which he collected throughout his time out on the road. They all mean something to him, cherishing each and every one, and he also loves how comfortable they are. Some of the shirts from his band were ones he even designed himself 

• Hates the idea of cutting his hair and shaving his beard, since he both loves the way they feel, and also feels like they’re what makes him *him*

• Autism :) His special interests are heavy metal, art, and Norse mythology (listen,,, he’s my fav original survivor, let me have this lmfao)

• He enjoys inspirational quotes a lot, and has a bunch taped around his room/house, just so that they’d be there whenever he needed to look at em

• He’s just a very chill guy to be around, and will always be there for anybody that needs him. He always has great words of wisdom to share, and gives great hugs as well

• He’s not much of a show off, but he absolutely loves talking about his art and the thought and meaning he’s put behind every piece of his

[geekordaus]

Tbh, I feel like one of the emperors are gonna snap and kill or give Shrub the 'Corrupted Sausage' treatment if they keep failing on trying to save Shrub or if Shrub crosses a line

All I'm saying is that Sausage was a very close friend to Gem and even then she still killed him once he chose to try and take the egg so it's unlikely that Shrub is gonna get away scott free

Oh, ok, I think I have an idea for this. I will properly write it someday.

Gem gets corrupted by Shrub, who makes her go and steal the crystal from Rivendell, Fwhip was already there stealing it, when Fwhip realizes what's happening, he escapes from her sister and goes to Katherine.

There they decide to get help from Jimmy, so he and Katherine can go look for Scott. Meanwhile, Fwhip tries to take refuge on Mythland with Sausage while the other two return with Scott.

Shrub, recorrupt Joey, and together with Gem at some point they discover where Fwhip is hiding, and go there.

Fwhip and Sausage fight against the 3, but after a long battle they loose. Shrub steps over him on his shoulder, and points her sword to his throat.

"Give us the crystal now, and you shall be spared from dying." She said.

Fwhip doesn't try and plead to her, instead he efforts goes to his sister, she doesn't even flinch at his desperate attempt.

"She won't help you, she is only loyal to Xornoth now, no one else." She laughs and presses the sword a little bit more. "Now, where's the crystal."

Fwhip's eyes follow something in the sky, and smiles. "Right behind you." The sound of three people landing behind her, made her turn around.

Katherine had wrapped around her hand the necklace that contains the crystal. Her eyes met each other. "Shrub... why?"

"Why? Because you took them away from me." She points at the crystal. "That's why. Because they have been the only person that have cared for me in the last 80 years of my life." Tears filled her eyes.

"Shrub..." Katherine slowly walked towards her. "We really can help you, but for that to happen you need to let us help you" She placed a hand on the gnome's shoulder "I know it must have been difficult since your parents death, but you need to understand that Xornoth utilised you."

"Ok, you want to help me, then I should I start for the truth."

====

Fwhip went to his sister, she was still fighting him on sight, but somehow he knew that talking to her would help, the real her must still be somewhere inside her head.

When he finally was able to get her back, she looked over to Shrub, and the dagger that she had on her hand.

====

Shrub smiled, and hugged her closer. "They weren't killed by the nether, or by Xornoth. I killed them." And she thrusted the dagger on Katherine, but it didn't do much damage, as she stopped, because of the sword going through her back.

She slowly looked back, to see the widened eyes of Gem. "I'm sorry... but I won't let you or them to cause more harm."

Shrub only managed to laugh.

[fairchildestofthemall]

Charlene Fairchild

She/Her

23 years old (Birthday: 31st May)

Witch - powers currently dormant

Neutral with a touch of Resistance Ally

So What Happened?

Prom Night

Prom Night was a lot. And that’s not even counting that little dance between Rachel and Joey! No, both Char and Cole Atwood were roped into chaperoning. After about a hundred longing looks from across the room, that damn song had to come on and... Well... The reality of how she’d broken his heart yet again came crashing down. Charlene looked away. She ran out the room.

But this time? Oh, this time, Cole Atwood was not going down without a fight. Forget the way they’d been hooking up on-and-off since that fateful night when Roxy Kane kidnapped him. Forget the way they argued and screaming ‘this is the LAST time!’ before, well. Forget that beautiful, heart aching day of being human together. Forget all that and there was one question that Charlene had never answered: Why?

Why did she leave him? Why did she break his heart? Why could she just never tell the whole damn truth? They scream, they cried, it started raining. And she finally screamed the truth: ‘I’m not good enough for you’. There it was, the driving emotion behind every terrible mistake she’d made. She wasn’t good enough for someone as kind, as sweet and caring, as Cole. Cole who should have had a big future ahead, leaving her behind for his college scholarship (pre-werewolf bite).

The world might as well have stopped spinning when they both realised that they’d been wasting so much time. That they were in love with each other. That this was it. That’s what it had always felt like and it was time to just shut the hell up and get it together.

They were snuggled in bed the morning after when the news eventually broke about Leo and Effy. It was beyond devastating for Cole. Charlene hadn’t known what to do- she even offered in a terrible whisper to bring Effy back at the expense of her own humanity. But in the end, the best thing she could do was stay.

Founders Festival and Domesdale

Charlene and Cole were together when everything happened. Going to the Founders Festival seemed like such a pointless idea, you know? But maybe they needed a little embarrassing town spirit. Danny was gonna be selling pancakes and everything, so! It should have been just what they needed. 

When everything went down, they both knew they had to keep their loved ones safe. It was one of the last times she used her magic as she was still suffering the after effects of Roxy’s provoking. Thankfully, they made it but it was only the beginning.

There were devastating loses in the beginning especially... That among other things made it clear they had to try and help in any way they can. But for Charlene, her unstable magic threatened to push her over the edge more and more. She decided to ask her grandma to box it- make it dormant- before something bad happened.

In this time, she watched Cole step up to be the leader- the Alpha- for wayward werewolves and friends. He saved Stella Bell’s life when he bit her and she more than agreed they should take care of her. (Cole using the word ‘pack’ might be too soon but let’s be honest...). When Jake Howell was left the stand-in leader of the Sparks Pack, he leaned on Cole too.

Ivy O’Connor also took manners into her own hands to help protect people. She turned the Inn into a safe place for people to live/hide/take shelter. The magic of Havensdale’s witches help to keep it that way although sometimes Charlene wonders if Engel is just letting them play pretend.

Wanted Connections

Anyone taking up residence in Ivy’s Inn!

Warlocks that have tried to antagonize her or have gotten into it with her before she suppressed her magic.

Werewolfy connections from being in Cole’s life etc etc.

[turn-the-tables-on-them]

Darkness Falls chapter 2- Broken.

Warnings: Torture, sickness, fear, begging, whipping aftermath, torture aftermath, whumper turned whumpee, scared whumpee, Supervillain whumpee, infected wounds, graphic infection.

Taglist: @purple-heart-x @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @oddsconvert @whumpsday @interdimensional-chaos @mylifeisonthebookshelf @elrys-creates, @wolfeyedwitch @whumpwillow @pigeonwhumps

Joey wasn’t actually expecting to find any members of the Rogues when he entered the warehouse. He was expecting it to be empty, they usually were by the time he got there. Over the past eight months, only 5 members had been arrested. However, once he got in the main door, it became clear that it hadn’t been abandoned for long. Fresh cigarette smoke hung in the air, and there was mud on the floor that was still drying. He’d been close to catching the bastards.

It wasn’t Vigilante’s that Joey had a problem with, hell, he was one himself, it was their use of excessive violence to those they deemed to deserve it.

Plain torture, there was no other way to describe what was done to their victims. Even the worst criminals shouldn’t be tortured, in Joey’s opinion.

He came to another door, which proved to be locked. Joey sighed, taking a step back, and kicking it in.

Joey strode in, only to freeze up in shock as he registered the scene before him.

In the corner, restrained to the wall by a leather collar, was one of the most vicious people he’d ever had the misfortune to encounter.

“Slipknot?” Joey breathed, immediately wary of a trap, even as the other man flinched back. He was covered in blood and bruises, with several long gashes across his muscular chest. The sharp smell of vomit hung in the air.

Joey shook his head. It wasn’t a trap. Slipknot would never willingly put himself in a position that made him seem vulnerable, let alone… this.

Releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, Joey approached the younger man, who cowered back into the wall.

“N-no.” He whimpered. His glazed blue eyes widened in terror as Joey continued towards him. There wasn’t even a shadow of the arrogance that had always surrounded him.

“No, I can’t- please, I wasn’t, I-I didn’t- no, no please!” He cried, trying to scramble back as Joey stopped a few steps away.

He was shivering like a leaf in a hurricane.

“Please.” He moaned, his voice thick with terror, and hoarse from screaming. “Please, no more. I c-can’t… mercy, please, I’m s-sorry.”

“Hey.” Joey said, fighting to keep his voice calm for the younger man’s sake. He carefully reached out, and touched the supervillain’s shoulder, and he jerked back with a yelp that was gut-wrenchingly similar to that of a wounded dog.

“Please!” Slipknot whined, sweat beading across his forehead as Joey sighed. Even through his glove, he had felt the heat of the supervillain’s fever.

Noticing a haphazard bandage around Slipknot’s lower abdomen, Joey reached out to remove it.

Trembling, the younger man, God, he was more a boy, tried to turn away, revealing his back to Joey, who sucked in a shocked breath.

The lashes on Slipknot’s chest were nothing compared to the ones on his back, which was, not to put too fine a point on it, in tatters. 

Layer upon layer of wounds marked him from his shoulders to his hips.

Joey grimaced, unable to imagine the pain the boy must have been in. He slowly reached out to unhook the chain from the leather collar around Slipknot’s neck.

The supervillain sobbed, trying to pull away, choking slightly as the collar tightened around his throat.

When the chain fell away, Joey reached out to him, intending to remove the collar as well, only for Slipknot to shy away from him, his arms gave, and he collapsed onto his side with a weak cry.

Joey took a deep breath, and began to unwind the hardened bandages around Slipknot’s waist, which were crusted with blood and pus.

"N-no please..." Slipknot moaned, squirming fitfully on the dusty floor. Joey could never have imagined Slipknot begging like this.

“Hush, you’re going to make things worse if you keep squirming like that.” He said, keeping his voice low and calm.

The last of the bandage finally peeled itself away from the wound on the supervillain’s side, causing Slipknot to cry out.

Joey stared in horror at the hideously infected wound that had been concealed beneath the soiled bandages.

"Please." Slipknot whimpered. "Please, it hurts, make it stop, please, I-I won’t hurt anyone ever a-again... please." He begged, breaking into a sweat as he struggled to sit up.

“Lie still.” Joey murmured, pushing him back down, eliciting a terrified sob.

"Please... please d-don’t hurt me. I-I know you have every reason too, but please- I-I can’t." He pleaded. 

"Easy there bud, calm down."

Slipknot sniffled, trying to curl up. He made a small noise of pure terror when Joey grabbed his arm, pulling it across his shoulders.

“Easy, easy. I’m getting you out of here.” Joey murmured. Slipknot was both tall and quite muscular, but Joey was even bigger than him, and lifting him wasn’t too much of a problem.

Slipknot trembled in his hold, crying freely now. Joey couldn’t help but wince as he again felt how badly the poor thing was burning up.

Joey adjusted his hold on the younger man, and made his way out of the warehouse, and out to his car.

The drizzle had turned to a downpour, and Joey noted how Slipknot’s shivering worsened, his pity for the supervillain running even deeper.

Joey opened the back door of the car, and propped Slipknot up against the back seat. It was abundantly clear by now that Slipknot was too terrified to see reason, and Joey wasn’t going to risk him injuring himself further in panic.

He closed the door, and went to the trunk, grabbing the bed sheet he’d taken to keeping in the car for road-trips, back when he was still in medical school.

Returning to his feverish ward’s side, Joey draped the blanket across his shoulders, before wrapping it as tightly as he dared around his chest. He repeated the process as Slipknot wriggled and sobbed.

“N-no.” He moaned.

“I know, bud.” Joey replied softly, tucking the last fold in, effectively cocooning Slipknot, and restraining him, just like he had done with Nemesis the night he found her.

Slipknot’s chest heaved, sweat shining on his face and neck as he writhed helplessly against the walls of his cloth prison.

“Shadowdancer, please…” He begged, tears flowing freely from his terrified eyes.

“Easy bud, you’re safe now.” Joey told him, gently pressing the back of his hand against the fallen supervillain’s damp, scorching forehead. Slipknot sobbed, trying to pull away.

Joey gave him a sad look, closing the door, and going around to the driver’s seat.

“Wh-what are you going to do to me?” Slipknot whimpered.

“I’m taking you somewhere safe.” Joey said, smiling softly as he looked back at Slipknot. One glance confirmed that the supervillain didn’t believe him.

“Ple-please, I’m s-sorry.” The fever-stricken boy stammered. “I’ll be good. I- please… mercy… I can’t t-take it anymore.”

Joey just sighed, and turned the key in the ignition.

___________

Nemesis stretched out on the bed, grinning as she pressed play on the tv, before popping a sour gummy worm into her mouth.

She was just adjusting her pillow when she heard a car door slam. Nemesis glanced at the clock, which read 11:24.

Joey was back earlier than she’d been expecting.

“Nem, come open the door!” He shouted.

Nemesis frowned, putting aside her gummy worms, and pausing her movie.

Jogging down the stairs, she unlocked the door.

“Did you forget your key or some-” She cut off as Joey rushed inside, out of the rain, carrying with him a shivering mess who was weakly begging not to be hurt anymore.

Her lips parted in shock as she recognized said shivering, begging mess.

Slipknot.

The Supervillain’s skin was deathly pale, aside from his cheeks, which were flushed with fever.

He was shaking uncontrollably, moaning incoherent words of distress.

Nemesis shook herself, looking up at Joey.

“What. The. Hell?” She hissed.

“The Rogues got their hands on him.”

“And?”

“I need your help.”

“No.” Nemesis snapped.

“Nem-”

“No. He’s a monster.”

In Joey’s arms, Slipknot sobbed, trying to hide his face.

“He needs help.” Joey said softly.

“Okay, so take him to the hospital..”

“We both know why I can’t.”

Nemesis crossed her arms, looking at the floor.

“We do not condone torture, and we are not about to start.” Joey said firmly, heading upstairs.

Nemesis sighed. “So much for a quiet night.” She muttered, before trotting up the stairs after Joey, and following him into the master bedroom.

She stood beside Joey as he lay the barely-conscious menace down.

Slipknot whimpered, shifting weakly in the blanket-cocoon he was enveloped in, just like she had once been. He was soaked in sweat, and obviously delirious. Or, close to, at least.

He flinched as Joey began to unwrap the sheet.

Slipknot’s glassy blue eyes were half-lidded, but still full of terror. Nemesis glanced down at the four lashes across his chest, clicking her tongue in dismay,

He groaned in protest as Joey turned him onto his side, revealing the countless lashes that were ten times worse across his back.

Despite her bitterness, Nemesis couldn’t help the pity that welled up inside her.

“Ple-please...” He mumbled, his voice weak and raspy. “D-don’t...”

“Nemesis.” Joey said, and she tore her eyes away from the horrible wounds. “I need you to put aside the resentment for now. I need you to help me treat him.”

Nemesis hesitated for only a split second, then, with a sigh, she nodded.

“What do you need me to do?” She asked.

[multistan-kpopwritings]

Nice to Meet You

➟ pairing(s): Mark & Reader; Mama and Papa Tuan

➟ genre(s): Fluff

➟ word count: 1.4K

➟ warnings: super sweet parents

“Earth to y/n,” your boyfriend called to you.  He waved his hand in front of your face, snapping your attention back to the present.  You looked around and noticed that the plane had landed at LAX.  

“Sorry,” you blushed, “I must have zoned out for the last part of the flight.”  Some time ago you had selected a movie to watch, which needless to say, it was long forgotten.  Your mind had wondered several times that day, making it hard to focus.

You had been dating Mark for about 6 months now.  Things have developed and evolved between the two of you quickly.  With the holidays around the corner, he suggested taking the next steps in the relationship... Meeting the family.  Sure, you’ve spoken to his parents in passing.  A phone call here or there while he was occupied or even a quick “Hello” while he video chatted with them... But this was different!  This was the man you loved and you wanted to make a good impression on his family.  

You both grabbed your luggage from the conveyer belt and made your way to the exit.  You silently ran through all the scenarios in your mind.  Introductions first.  Offer your hand for a handshake... unless his moms steps in for a hug... then hug her.  Do you hug his dad?  What if his brother, Joey, was there?  Did he say if his sisters would be home or were they arriving tomorrow?

“Y/N,” Mark called to you again, “You’re doing it again.”  He laughed and pulled you in for a hug.  You relaxed as he puled you against his chest.  He kissed the top of your head rested his head on the top of yours.  “You need to stop this,” he whispered, “You’re overthinking everything.  You’re brain will catch fire from this nonstop silliness.”  You chuckled into his chest.

“Easy for you to say,” you sighed, “You are Mr. Charming.  Everyone loves you.”  You could feel his body shake as he laughed.  He stroked your hair gently.  Pulling away, you looked up at him.  The look of adoration was unmistakable as he smiled down at you.  You felt a little more at ease with him next to you.  “Did you get a rental or UBER,” you questioned.

“Oh.  Well... About that,” he trailed off.  He bit his lower lip and looked away, not able to meet your eyes.  “My parents... They um...,” he stuttered again.  You furrowed your brows at him, not able to understand what he was saying.

“Spit it out, Tuan,” you ordered.  You tried to follow his line of sight, but still had not idea what he was looking for.  Then it happened.  You heard his name being called from across the way.  He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled at you, meeting your eyes again.  

“Baby,” the woman cried as she wrapped her arms around her son.  She pulled back and admired his face.  “You look more handsome that the last time I saw you,” she doted over him.  She took the time to fix his hair and straighten his shirt.  The older man accompanying her laughed and swatted her hands away.

“Leave him alone, Dorine,” he softly scolded.  He pulled Mark into a hug, patting his back and kissing his cheek.  “We’ve missed you.”

You stood back and watched the exchange between the trio.  It was clear that they were close.  With all the noise around the terminal, you couldn’t make out what Mark had whispered to his mom.  He pulled away from his mom and locked eyes with you, a sly smile on his lips.  Before you could register what was happening, his mom spun around and looked at you for the first time.

“Mom,” he said to the woman in front of him, then looking to his dad, “Dad, this is y/n.”  His mom squealed and made grabby hands at you.  She quickly closed the space between the two of you and embraced you in a hug.  She pulled away and searched your face.

“Oh.  My.  Gosh,” she gushed, “You are more beautiful than the photos Mark sent us.”  She held your face in her hands and kissed your cheeks.  You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding.  His mom grabbed your hands and tugged you towards his dad.  “Raymond,” she said, “Look at this beautiful girl.”  His dad laughed again at the enthusiasm his wife showed.  

“Hello, dear,” his dad greeted you.  He too, pulled you into a hug.  “I’m glad you were able to make the trip.”  He stepped back and patted Mark on the back again, “We heard so much about you.  It wouldn’t be right if you weren’t here.”  His dad smiled warmly at you.

“Alright, alright,” Mark said, “That’s enough.”  He shook his head and laughed.  “Can we go home now?  It was a long flight and I’m ready to relax.”  He wrapped his arm around your waist and pressed a soft kiss to your temple.  You leaned against his body and smiled.  His mom saw this and made a squealing sound again.

“Come on, kids,” Raymond said, “Your mom made up your room.”  He grabbed your luggage in one hand and Mark’s in the other.  “We parked over here,” he directed with a nod of his head.  With his arm still around you, Mark began to follow his dad.  

You felt a light touch on your arm as you walked away, looking back you was Dorine standing back.  You could see she wanted to speak to you.  Mark stopped and looked between you and his mom.  You smiled and squeezed his hand, gently letting him know you’d catch up.  He gave you a quick kiss on the lips before turning to catch up with his dad.

Dorine stepped closer and smiled.  She took your hands in hers and sighed.  You could tell there was something she needed to say.  Her face was an open book, emotions clear.  She was happy and sad at the same time.  

“You know,” she started, “I’ve had a few jobs in my life.  By far, being a mom is the hardest, yet most rewarding.  When you bring home that new baby, you know that in your heart you will do whatever you need to in order to protect him.”  She glanced over your shoulder at the retreating forms of her husband and son.  “Letting him go to Korea to be a trainee was one of the hardest things I ever had to do.  Time and time again he called about girls he met, and of course time and time again I got calls about how it didn’t work.  Do you know how hard it is to protect your baby from heartbreak?”  She searched your face.  

You tried to talk to her, let her know that you didn’t plan on leaving Mark, ever.  She wasn’t interested in letting you talk.

“I knew something was different when he called about you,” her face softened.  “I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you.”  She squeezed your hands and smiled.  “I never thought I would feel the pain I felt when he left for Korea again,” she sighed, “But when he looks at you, I know I’m losing my son.”

“What?  No,” you interjected, “I’m not taking him from you.”  Your eyes began to water.  This is exactly what you feared.  She laughed and shook her head.

“Sorry,” she apologized, “I know he’ll always be my son.”  She wiped away a renegade tear that slipped down your cheek.  “It’s just a hard to let your baby go.  I know that he found in you what every mother wants for her son.  I have to remember he is a grown man, not my baby boy.  One day, the two of you will be married and then I’ll be just ‘mom’, and you will be the woman in his life that he depends on.”  She blinked rapidly, fighting back tears.  “I’m not good at this,” she sniffled, “I’m just so thankful that you are in his life.”  

You couldn’t hold your tears back anymore.  They were flowing freely from your eyes.  She pulled you in for a tight hug.  You could feel that she was crying, too.  

“Thank you,” you whispered.  The two of you stood there for a little.  Nothing needed to be said that hasn’t been already.

“Come on,” she said, gently pulling your hands, “Let’s go home.  The rest of the family is excited to meet you.”

[ace-of-clubs-and-diamonds]

Aaaaaaand we’re back! It’s been a little bit since I last updated, but I’ve finally finished the next chapter of Waking Nightmares! I’m happy I took a break, because I needed it, but I’m also happy to get back to working on it. Even if this chapter was a bit of a pain in the ass. I had to rewrite certain sections multiple times. But ultimately, I think I’m satisfied with how it turned out.

But anyways, let’s get into it. Hope you all enjoy!

Waking Nightmares masterlist here.

~

Waking Nightmares: Chapter 7

Rating: Mature, SFW

Word count: 4,942

Content warnings: Stalking, obsession, violence, manhandling, possessiveness

POV: Freddy Krueger

She was no Heather, but she certainly knew how to put up a fight.

And I always did enjoy the ones who fought back. The ones who showed a little teeth, who had a little bite as well as bark. It made things more interesting, and the kill all the more satisfying. After all, what was the point if they just gave in? What was the point if they didn't desperately try to escape the inevitable and shove back that rush of fear - only to realize, in their final moments, that they never could have stopped this? I always got them in the end. Nancy. Kincaid. Joey. Kristen. So many more.

But no matter how hard they fought, there was only one way the story ended – with their blood painting the walls.

Heather was the one that got away. Her and her brat. But Heather was the more important of the two, and the ultimate prize.

But I'll admit, my new storyteller had captured my interest. Her train wreck of a relationship with her ex was always fun to watch. So much left unsaid, so much I didn't know and hadn't had the power to find the answers to. I wanted to know. What skeletons hid in her closet? What ghosts haunted her? I was curious.

And it'd been a fun little moment when she'd grabbed the knife. Any reasonable person would've run, maybe even hid. Hell, she even could've frozen like a deer caught in headlights.

But no... she'd grabbed that knife with ease and familiarity. Not a spark of hesitation.

And that intrigued me.

Aside from that, she’d done the usual song and dance. Confusion, fear, denial, resisting sleep and gaslighting herself into thinking I was a figment of her imagination. Using caffeine as a crutch. The desperate effort and resulting burnout. Trying so hard, so valiantly. I'd seen it all before. And like all the others before her, she’d eventually started to break. And it’d been so good to see her little world crumble around her. To see her squirm and break more and more, all while scrambling to regain any control of her life.

Not that it helped.

Even the one thing she did control, her own stories, where she got to play god, weren’t hers anymore. They were mine.

A feast of storytelling and creativity, an invitation that I couldn’t resist.

Her storytelling, her dreams, her waking moments, her mind. It all belonged to me now.

The world was my stage, and she was my willfully ignorant puppet.

It had been fun. Viscerally satisfying. A return to form, a chance to flex my claws and bend her mind and build myself back up.

She’d been interesting enough that I’d debated letting her live a little longer. Let her continue to suffer and drive herself insane with exhaustion. Where would it lead? Would it make her grab that knife again - and use it this time? The temptation burned inside of me. It urged me to unravel her mind into ribbons and see every dirty secret she kept hidden there and use them against her. Turn every waking and sleeping moment into a personally tailored hell. Let her drown in her own misery and horror before finally letting her see my face, see that I'd been the cause of all this, and splitting her wide open. And then consuming what was left of her mind and soul.

It was tempting. Very tempting.

But, at the end of the day…

She was a means to an end.

Each night since following her home, I’d gorged myself on her storytelling. And each night, I’d grown stronger. I’d been able to take a step closer to her, to reality. I’d melded her mind how I'd pleased and watched her tremble in fear and try to stop the inevitable. To stop me.

She thought she was the main character, but she was just a footnote in the story. I had my sights on someone else. Someone more promising, more rewarding, more important.

Heather.

Roxy meant nothing in the end.

And so. Here we were.

Tonight wasn’t the night for games – I’d had my fill of those for now. I’d had my fill of her and her sweet, cloying creativity. Now I was strong enough.

I pulled her into a dream the moment she collapsed, head and shoulders dropping as she slumped over the kitchen table. She’d been running on the brink of exhaustion for days. It’d only been a matter of time before sleep caught up to her. And before I caught up to her.

It was a simple dream, nothing fancy. The same dream as always, her bedroom with its dull blue walls and unremarkable black-and-white furniture. Me in the corner, her curled up with the covers pulled over her head. As if to hide, as if it would help.

Cute.

I took a step forward.

“Nine.”

I extended my hand, flexing my fingers and clicking the blades together. The urge, the craving to sink them into her body and feel skin and muscle and viscera tear beneath them, to feel the warm gush of blood pool around my fingers… I felt almost giddy as I approached her.

“Ten.”

How would she die? Would she fight with the same vigor as when she’d grabbed the knife from the kitchen and prowled around her home? Would she give in, the nonstop exhaustion and paranoia finally breaking her? What little noises could I coax out from her – a whimper, a sob, a scream? Would she look at me in fear or shock, or even rage?

How would my storyteller’s story end?

I stopped by the side of her bed, running a finger along the soft covers before curling them into the fabric. The lump of her body remained still and silent. Paralyzed in fear? Lying in wait? We were about to see.

“Never sleep again!”

I tore the covers away and flung my hand back to plunge the claws into her body –

She wasn’t there.

The bed was empty.

What.

That wasn't right. That wasn't how this worked. That couldn't -

What???

I whipped around, half expecting her to be standing behind me with a knife in hand. Because wouldn't that be ironic, wouldn't that be so fitting of her? To turn the knife on me at the very last second?

But no. She wasn't behind me.

I threw the closet door open. Not there. I shoved the clothes aside, too. Nothing.

She wasn't here.

She wasn't in the dream.

That shouldn't have been possible.

She was in the dreamworld. I could feel her – her presence was like a small flame, so easy to snuff out but still enough to burn. But she wasn't in this dream, the dream I'd created. She was somewhere else.

Her mind was somewhere else.

Where the hell was her mind?

I furiously grabbed a pillow, ripping through the fabric as I hurled it across the room. It spewed feathers as it went. I flung the second pillow away, too, and clawed the mattress open. There was nothing but fluff as I knelt on the bed and pawed through its innards.

"No... no."

I'd waited this long, I'd sown the seeds of fear so perfectly. And all for what? She was gone, she'd slipped through my fingers at the last moment.

"NO!" I punched my blades into the fabric and tore, sending fluff and feathers flying through the air. A poor substitute for flesh and bone. A hollow gesture. I sat there, braced on hands and knees, staring at the shredded mattress.

This had never fucking happened before. Not once in the time I'd been doing this, not once during my time in this form, in the dreamworld, had this fucking happened. Not even with Nancy or Kristen, and they'd known how to manipulate their dreams. Roxy didn't know how to do that, she couldn't have, and yet she'd still somehow slipped away.

The bitch.

I whirled back around, casting another glare around the room. Empty, empty, empty, not even that damn cat was here. I could feel him awake and prowling somewhere in the house. And even though I could sense Roxy, I couldn’t fucking figure out where she fucking was.

“Where is your mind, Roxy?” I hissed.

And as if in answer... a distant shout.

Female. Pained. Afraid.

Similar to the ones I'd heard a hundred times before.

I shoved off the bed, coming around to the doorway. In her house, it led to a hallway, and down the hallway was a second bedroom used as a storage closet and the stairs. I knew that. I’d made the dream to be the same.

But when I peered out the door, the hallway was… much longer than it should’ve been. Much longer than it was. Much longer than I’d made it. It stretched on further than I could see, fading into darkness.

It was creepy. Something I'd probably create.

But I hadn’t been the one to do it.

I frowned and peered down the fabric of the dreamscape to see what was at the end.

... I... couldn't?

I couldn't. Something was blocking me. Something was keeping me from peering down that path, like a curtain pulled across a window. And it was a curtain I didn't know how to remove. I'd never had to before. No one else knew how to manipulate the dreamworld to that extent.

Again. This had never happened before.

What the fuck was happening?!

And why tonight of all goddamn nights? Why the night I'd decided to finally kill her and move on?

Of all fucking nights why did it have to be this one?

I dug my claws into the doorframe and slowly dragged down, splintering the wood.

There was no way that fucking bitch had figured out how to lucid dream. It was the only possible explanation for this, but it didn't make sense. If she could lucid dream, she would've done it by now. And if she'd taught herself, I would've seen her, as I'd seen every little thing she did while I'd been attached to her.

Something was going on, but I doubted it was her. It wasn't me, either.

What option did that leave?

Another scream rang out.

Sure sounded like a nightmare to me.

I started down the hall. I tried looking through the dreamscape again, tried to part that curtain, but I might as well have been scraping my claws against the glass from outside. Whatever was blocking me was still there. And it wasn't moving.

Roxy might not have been the cause of this, but she was certainly going to be the one to suffer for it. I'd been delayed long enough.

Heather was waiting. That's when the real fun started.

...If this hall ever ended.

It kept going. Dark and endless, not a sound accept for my own echoing footfalls and the creak of wood. And the occasional shuffle and shout from the distance.

What was she up to? I wondered. And how could I make it worse?

As I walked, the dream shifted. Wood became concrete and metal. The cold of her home became hot and damp and oppressive. Somewhere in the distance, fire crackled and steam hissed, punctuated by the occasional crash and rattle of metal. The pitch-black darkness became a dull, dirty yellow light. Grime-covered pipes lined the walls, and steam obscured the hallway further down. Every intake of breath scraped with ash and smoke.

It was unexpectedly familiar... and yet foreign. It had me walking more carefully than I liked to admit.

I couldn't deny how familiar this was. How very me it was.

It was... odd.

A startled shriek tore through the air, and excitement jolted through me at the familiar sound. But the following scuffling made me hesitate, as did the harsh words from a voice I didn't recognize.

Something cold and unpleasant settled inside of me. What kind of nightmare was this? Something so close to what I would do, yet somehow... wrong. Twisted, but not by my own hand. As if someone had been picking around my mind instead, and had pulled out all the necessary set pieces.

"Roxy, Roxy, what trouble have you been up to without me?" I murmured.

Another shout bounced off the walls - this one angry and pained. Followed immediately by scuffling and a crash.

Well that was interesting.

I pulled the dream around me and hid the sound of my arrival.

"You're lucky I didn't do worse." Now there was the voice I recognized, angry and sharp and spat out through clenched teeth. A pretty voice that sounded even prettier screaming. My little storyteller.

The steam cleared away all too suddenly. I stopped dead in my tracks.

There she was, thrown up against the wall, pipes bent around her body. Curly pink hair wild and clinging to her face, round glasses miraculously still perched on her nose. Her skin shined with sweat, and blood dripped down her face from a gash. And despite her position, she looked furious, teeth bared in a snarl and body tensed as if about to pounce. Fighter till the end, huh?

But as nice of a sight as it was, it's not what made me stop. That's not what had that cold, heavy thing inside of me turning sharp and bitter and angry.

No, that would be because of the little shit pinning her in place.

Even with his back to me, I recognized him. How couldn't I? I recognized the dirty brown hat and the gleaming claws and the flash of red and green fabric.

And more than that, I recognized what he was. I could feel him, the same way I could feel Roxy. But he felt completely different from her, and more familiar than I liked.

How the hell hadn't I noticed him before? How come I hadn't sensed him as soon as I'd stepped into the dreamworld? Or even before that?

And why.

Was.

He.

ME.

And why did he have Roxy by the throat, why was he the one leaning in as if to kiss her and say, "Worse? Oh I'll show you worse." Why was he the one bringing his claws back to claim her life, why was he the one who'd now painted a look of terror across her face?

Why was he wearing MY skin and taking MY victim?

The words left my mouth easily. "Don't you know it's rude to play with other people's toys?"

They both froze. Roxy's gaze flicked away from him to lock eyes with me. Recognition flickered across her face - along with a slew of other emotions, too quick to name but still familiar. She knew who I was. Both to the world and to her. I grinned, tipping my hat at her in greeting. Yes, I'm exactly who you think I am. I'm the story, the nightmare, your personal hell. Nice to finally meet you, Little Miss Love.

The imposter pinning her to the wall twisted his head over his shoulder, just enough that I could glimpse scarred, greasy skin. It was enough confirmation to make my blood boil.

Looked like I wasn't the only one to slip into this world and claim the title of "Freddy Krueger."

The thieving little bitch.

I pointed a claw at him. "I think you have something that belongs to me," I snarled.

He dropped her and spun around, ragged excuse for a coat swirling around him. Because fuck he did have a damn coat, just like the fucking trench coat I wore now. And he had the hat, the sweater, and even if he didn't have the fucking glove, the blades piercing through his fingertips were enough.

All so me, so unmistakably me.

He hummed, a low rattling noise that grated on my nerves. “Do I now?” he rasped. He even sounded wrong. “If anything, I’d say you’ve got somethin that belongs to me.”

I had to laugh. “I was here long time before you. I’ve had a claim to this face, this story, and this world for decades.”

He eyed me disdainfully, as if he’d found a particularly annoying bug. “I don’t think so.” He flicked a single claw out, gesturing to the hall and pipes around us. “This is my dream, after all. And this face was up for grabs.”

And that was the little problem here, wasn’t it? The unanswered question on my mind – and probably his, too. Even if the face was wrong, the voice was wrong, the dream and everything else was wrong, it was obvious who he was meant to be. A twisted facsimile of me.

How could he have the guise of Freddy Krueger, as crude as it was, while I still wore it?

This wasn't possible. This wasn't how it worked.

I knew it. He knew it.

And yet here we both were.

Once again - how the fuck was this happening?

I tilted my head at him the same moment he did – and stopped when he did the same. He narrowed his eyes at me, as if I’d been the one to mirror him, the little fuck. We stepped forward at the same time, too. And stopped instantly. Irritation flared through me, and I bared my teeth at him. “Stop it.”

“I’m not fuckin doing anything,” he spat, mangled face twisting into a sneer.

This time, when I stepped forward and flexed my claws, he stayed where he was and squared his bony shoulders. As if trying to puff up his scrawny frame and make himself seem scarier. Cute. But my patience was running very thin. “How did you get here, and just who the hell do you think you are?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I asked first.” I took another step forward, clicking my blades threateningly. “Don’t make me carve the answer out of you.”

“I’ve been here for years. I was the only one for years,” he snarled. He scissored his claws together, scraping them in a way that had me itching to remove his hand. “You didn’t exist here until a few weeks ago – I woulda sensed you before. And I only just found you because of her.” Roxy hadn’t moved since he’d dropped her, slumped over with her face cast down, as if unconscious. But when he reached his other hand out and brushed his filthy fingers against her hair, I could’ve sworn she twitched. Just slightly. A flinch.

Maybe I’d remove that hand instead.

Because if she was going to be afraid of anyone, it was going to be me.

“This was all free for the taking.” This time he stepped forward, obnoxiously scraping his claws again. “And from the looks of it, you know exactly who the fuck I am. Now who the fuck are you?”

I spread my arms and gave him a mock-bow. “I’m the original nightmare.”

“And I’m the new one.” He spread his stance, stepping in front of Roxy as he did so. “You shouldn’t exist. Not when I’ve claimed all this as mine.”

“Yours?” I would’ve laughed if it hadn’t made me seethe. “Yours? I tried to cross over decades ago, long before whenever you decided to crawl into this world. I’ve been Freddy Krueger since the beginning, maggot. From the moment good old Wes put pen to paper and dreamt up a nightmare to the moment Heather and her brat left me for dead. Nothing here is yours. This is my world, and these are my children, my victims, mine.” I flung a hand at Roxy’s limp form. “She’s mine.” I stalked forward and relished in the fear in his eyes as I scraped my claws against the pipes.

“You’re just a wannabe.”

His lips peeled back with contempt, body tensing as if about to pounce.

And then Roxy snapped a leg out, foot hitting the back of his knee and he crashed to the floor. She shot to her feet and ran full-tilt down the hall. Just as quickly, the pipes exploded from the walls and tangled with a bone-rattling shriek. Roxy slammed into the wall before she could stop herself, twisting to collide shoulder-first. She collapsed with a groan of pain.

It would’ve been entertaining if the imposter wasn’t grabbing her by the hair and yanking her upwards. He flicked his claws out. Anger burned though my chest.

“We’ll see about that,” the imposter hissed, tearing his gaze away from me as he went for the kill.

My kill.

I snapped the dreamscape apart, and instantly, the floor melted under Roxy like wax. She plunged downwards out of the imposter’s grasp. I only caught a glimpse of their shocked expressions before I was reaching out to catch her as she dropped through the hole that had melted through the ceiling. She landed in my arms with a startled noise.

I flashed her a quick grin. Then I shoved her away, sending her stumbling. I threw myself back from the imposter as his claws slashed through the air. When he swung again, I grabbed his wrist and twisted around, pulling him with me and sending him crashing into the wall. Satisfaction curled in my gut as I grabbed him by the neck. He let out a choked noise, eyes widening, free hand clawing at my fingers.

“Let me put you in your place, maggot.” I drew my claws back.

This was nothing but a distraction, an unexpected annoying distraction –

Pain exploded through my body. I stumbled back, dropping him and crumpling in on instinct as a wheeze was forced out. My insides vibrated with the force of the hit.

The fucker kicked me –

He slashed his claws across my face. Blood obscured my vision. I rubbed at my eyes, rapidly blinking to clear the blood before I turned to see him heading for Roxy.

She was completely fucking defenseless.

Well wasn’t this ironic?

I sprang to my feet and grabbed a fistful of his ratty coat. He instantly twisted and tore himself away, slashing downwards with growl. I slashed up at the same time. Metal clashed as our claws hit and bounced off each other. I snapped a hand out and grabbed him by the collar of his mockingly familiar sweater, yanking him forward as I planted a boot in his gut. Bone cracked and the air whooshed out of him. He hit the ground.

His claws pierced my calf, sending pain shooting up my leg. I clamped my teeth down to keep from yelling. He yanked and the hallway tilted around me. I slammed into the concrete floor. This time I couldn't quite stop the groan of pain.

He sprang on top of me, claws flashing as he stabbed. I grabbed his wrist with both hands and twisted, twisted until his body had to twist with his arm and his weight lifted and I shoved him off, rolling on top to pin him to the ground.

I wagged a claw at him. “Ah-ah, me first."

Bone snapped and crackled. A fresh set of talons split through the fingertips of his other hand, and he jabbed. I lurched back. He used the momentum to swing back on top. I used the momentum to swing him back fucking off.

We rolled across the ground like animals. A messy tangle of limbs and claws and snarling teeth, desperately trying to stay on top and draw as much blood as possible with every stab and cut. The floor was slickened with blood. Our fingers and hands were sticky with it as we tore at each other.

I twisted as he stabbed at my ribs, claws glancing off. His other set of claws plunged into my shoulder. Agony speared through me. I sank teeth into his nearby arm, biting down until bitter, acrid blood burst into my mouth. He screamed in pain and ripped away, skin tearing and spraying blood as he shoved off of me and onto his feet. I rolled onto my hands and knees, spitting the skin and blood out with a grimace.

Unpleasant, but it did the job.

He clutched his forearm as black blood poured from the wound and stained the red-and-green fabric. He snarled at me, eyes glittering with fury and pain. “You fucking–”

A broken pipe slammed into his jaw, sending him spinning as Roxy wound back up to hit him again. He whirled back around just as the pipe came down. He grabbed it with both hands and ripped it away to kick her, knocking her down. He clambered on top of her and raised his claws.

I surged forwards, claws swinging. He spun, one set of claws meeting mine while the other aimed up and stabbed through my stomach. I choked. He shoved me away and spun back around again, claws sweeping through the air. They tore through Roxy’s forearm, breaking flesh and spilling blood. She cried out in pain.

Anger seared through me.

How dare he fucking touch her, how dare he make me look like a fucking amateur, how dare he fucking interrupt all of this.

It was viscerally satisfying to sink my claws into his back and feel them pierce through his spine, feel the blood gush out against my hand. To hear the pained yell and startled jerk of his body as I tore muscle and meat and viscera. Ichor spilled down my wrist, soaking my sleeve. I twisted the blades, relishing in the agonized noise he made.

“I’ve been doing this a long time, maggot,” I growled into his mangled ear. “You really think this is all it’ll take to top me?”

I tossed him out of the way like the trash he was, out of the way of her, and met her wide-eyed gaze. Her eyes brimmed with tears of pain as she clutched her forearm in a poor attempt to stop the blood from seeping between her fingers.

“Wake up!” I barked. “You’re bleeding!”

The look she gave me, halfway between startled and furious, as if she somehow still had the audacity to be furious at all this, burned against my skin. She snapped open her mouth as if to retort – and then her form blurred, snapped, then disappeared altogether. I felt her slip out of the dreamworld.

She was awake. Safe for now.

From me.

And from him.

I turned back around.

He was gone, too.

The imposter had fucking cut and run. Scuttled off like a cockroach once the lights were flicked on.

I stood there, alone in the hallway, the noises of whatever fucked-up boiler room he’d created echoing in the distance. Blood painted the floor. I was covered in it, sticky with it, hands coated and clothes drenched.

Gradually, the high faded. The high of anger and adrenaline, the high of a new kill, it all faded and settled, leaving something frustratingly hollow in its place.

My kill had been interrupted. And even worse, it had almost been stolen. My plans, my hard work, the patience and care I’d put into slowly and thoroughly pervading her life. Moment by moment, dream by dream. Every fearful look and startled breath was a victory – as was every shed tear and scream of anger. All so perfect.

And it had all been ruined.

Ruined by a wannabe bitch who’d stolen my fucking identity and stolen my fucking shtick.

This shouldn’t have been possible. He shouldn’t have been able to fucking wear the guise and claim this story while I still wore it and had claim to it. I hadn’t been dead. “Freddy Krueger” hadn’t been dead. He shouldn’t have been able to wear that sweater or that hat or those claws or scars. He shouldn’t have been waltzing around the dreamworld like he owned the place.

It was still mine.

But somehow, he'd gotten a hold of it too.

How the hell had he even gotten here in the first place? I'd thought I’d been the only one to try and cross over. The first and the last, the exception to the rule.

And as if that wasn’t enough – this was all going to delay finding Heather.

I angrily slashed a claw along the pipes. Spark hissed and fizzled before dwindling away to nothing.

A small, entertaining task and return to form had grown into a mess. There was no way I could let that little imposter run around pretending to be me. Now I had to fucking deal with him.

And what about my little storyteller?

What to do with her?

Maybe I should kill her and get her out of the way, claim her before the other could.

I paused.

Or… maybe I could use her. Maybe she could help me. After all, we had a common enemy, and how did it go? “The enemy of my enemy was my friend.” She could be my hand in the real world while I remained here. She could be my personal errand boy and bloodhound… and bait.

I grinned to myself. Oh, it was an excellent idea.

But I’d have to wait and see what she did next, what she'd do when faced with the reality of her situation. Then I'd twist it exactly how I needed.

First I’d deal with him.

Then, once she’d run out of use, I’d deal with Roxy.

And then, finally, Heather.

[mandowh0re]

The One Where Everybody Finds Out

Summary: The team finds out about you and Loki.

A/N: So I literally took the entire episode of The One Where Everybody Finds Out from Friends and rewrote it for the Avengers. This may have been done before with either Loki or another character, and I've definitely seen it done with other Friends episodes. This is super long because I literally used every line of dialogue in every scene (except for Ross attempting to win the apartment) and then added or changed them enough to fit the characters. Some of this may be OOC but it was the best I could do with the situation they're all in. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Implied smut

Word Count: 6274

Tony as Ross, Natasha as Rachel and Phoebe, Wanda as Rachel and Phoebe, Peter as Phoebe, Loki as Chandler, reader as Monica, and Thor as Joey.

Happy Reading!

“Oh, hey you guys, look! They’re installing the new training grounds outside!”

There’s collective sounds of acknowledgement from the team as they all get up from their spots, walking over to where Wanda stood in front of the floor to ceiling windows. You can feel Loki standing a bit too close to your back, but luckily everyone is too distracted to notice.

“I’d say from the looks of it, Tony went all out.” Natasha states, looking at all the new fancy equipment that was being unloaded and installed.

“Ironically, it was actually Steve who went all out. I just paid for it.”

“Awh, I’ll miss sweating my tits off in that tiny gym.” Natasha says. You snicker.

“That’s repulsive.” Loki rolls his eyes and returns to his place on the couch.

Tony glares at Nat, “Hey, it’s not my fault that the AC is always broken.”

“Aren’t you a mechanic?” Bucky asks.

“Not an HVAC mechanic. There’s a big difference, tough guy.”

“I am excited for this new space! I will be able to call upon the lightning in training!” Thor booms.

“Yes, and kill everyone on the field.” Loki replies nonchalantly, never looking up from his book.

Thor rolls his eyes and everyone returns to their former spots. You sit back in your spot next to Loki, sitting criss cross on the couch and discreetly touching your knee to high thigh.

It’s the small touches you sneak when you think nobody is looking, that make your heart skip just a beat faster.

***

“Oh my gods, I love this setup! It's got something for everyone!” Tony is absolutely giddy with excitement, walking around the newly installed equipment that had been set up outside, “Isn’t it perfect? I never realized how little we were working with before!”

“Well that is because we really only ever trained by fighting hand to hand.” Natasha replies, inspecting part of the obstacle course.

Tony nods, putting his hands in his pockets. He watches as Peter easily climbs a wall that’s part of the course Nat is looking at.

“It’s amazing!” Wanda chirps, “Steve really outdid himself this time.”

“Speaking of Steve, he was supposed to meet us out here like ten minutes ago. I’m gonna go find him.” Tony says, pulling his phone out to try and get a hold of his boyfriend.

As the billionaire disappears into the compound, Nat walks up to Wanda.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I can’t wait to sweat my tits off out here.” She says, the comment matching the one she made a few days ago.

Wanda lets out a quiet cackle, watching as Nat walks towards some machinery across the yard that caught her eye.

Wanda walks towards the teenager and looks around, excited to have so much more to practice and train her magic with. While Loki was more than glad to train with her using his own magic, she always had to hold back with almost everyone else.

She watches as Peter jumps and climbs his way through the course, looking like he’s having the time of his life, when she sees a separate movement out of the corner of her eye. She looks up to see you and Loki standing in a window, facing each other and talking.

“Oh look! There’s Y/N and Loki. Hey!” She waves up at them, but they don’t see her.

Peter’s attention is now caught and he stops in his tracks, looking up at the same window.

“Hey!” Peter calls, waving his own hands.

Suddenly, you and Loki are stripping each other of clothes, and Peter makes a squaking sound, covering his eyes.

“Ah! Oh!” Wanda shouts, her eyes blowing wide as she sees the events unfold. She uses her magic to pull Peter back to her so she can shield his innocent eyes, “Ahh!”

“What?” Nat asks, jogging back up to the pair.

Wanda points to the window that harbored the offending scene, with the hand that isn’t currently shielding Peter’s eyes.

“Y/N and Loki! Y/N and Loki!”

Nat looks up to see what the other two are flipping out about, only to see Loki shove you up against the window, completely bare.

“Oh my god!” Nat’s voice goes up an octave.

“Oh!”

“Oh my god!”

“Y/N and Loki!” Wanda screams.

“Oh my god!”

“My eyes! My eyes!” Peter screams. Wanda turns them both away from the building.

“Peter! Wanda!” Nat steps in front of them, hands out to try and calm them.

“Oh!” Wanda yells again, screwing here eyes shut.

“Okay! It’s okay! It’s okay!” Nat tries to placate them.

Peter removes Wanda’s hand from his face, “No! They’re doing it!” He yells, turning to point at you and Loki before Nat quickly grabs his arm and turns him back to her.

“I know! I know! I know!”

“You know?” Peter yells back.

“You know?” Wanda echoes him.

“Yes! I know, and Thor knows, but Tony doesn’t know so you have to stop screaming!”

Out of nowhere, Tony walks up to the small group, “Hey, what’s going on?”

The three of them scream in surprise, Peter throwing his hands in the air and jumping, screaming the loudest.

“Hi! Hi!”

Concern etches itself on Tony’s face, “What? What?” He steps towards his kid, arms reaching out and eyes scanning for any injuries.

“Hi! Nothing!” Peter yells, jumping around Tony to make him look away from the compound. He really didn’t need to see his daughter being fucked against a window by the one person on the team he trusts least, “Oh, gods, we’re just so excited about all the new equipment!” Peter claps his hands.

Tony smiles, now realizing it’s all just Peter having a hyperactive episode, “Yeah, actually it looks really good-” He says as he turns back to look at everything, but is cut off when Wanda yells and copies Peter’s movements to pull Tony’s gaze back away from the building.

“It looks amazing!” She screams, clapping and jumping up and down next to Peter.

Nat steps around Tony too so he doesn’t have a reason to turn back around.

“Get in here! Come on!” Peter yells, motioning for his father figure to join their happy dance.

Tony smiles before letting out a happy squeal and jumping into the little group dance, all of them jumping and screaming, aside from Natasha who was smirking and biting her lip to keep from laughing.

***

“You mean whenever Y/N and Loki were like, you know, doing laundry. Or going grocery shopping, or- Oh!” Wanda gasps, “All that time Y/N spent on the phone with Margo back in her hometown?”

They sit on Wanda’s bed, coffee in hand. Peter was leaned against her headboard playing Among Us on his phone, sound blocking headphones in. He was traumatized from what he saw earlier in the day, and he didn’t feel like seeing or talking to anyone, so the girls let him hang with them while they gossiped.

Nat nods, “Uh huh. Doing it, doing it, phone doing it.”

Wanda gasps again, “Oh, I can’t believe it! I mean I think it’s great!” There’s a pause, “For him. She might be able to do better.”

There’s a knock at the door before it opens slightly to reveal Thor. He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms.

“Hello, what are you all up to?”

“Thor! Come here!” Nat says, jumping up and pulling him into the room, closing the door behind him.

Thor moves to sit on the desk chair, which looks like a doll chair compared to him, “What?”

“Wanda and Peter just found out about Loki and Y/N.”

Thor’s brows furrow and his eyes get wide, “You mean how they’re friends and nothing more?” His eyes narrow at the ex-assassin.

Nat rolls her eyes, “No, no Thor. They know. We were outside checking out the new training grounds and we saw them doing it through the window. Actually we saw them doing it up against the window.”

Wanda joins in, “Okay, so now they know you know,” She points to Thor, “And they don’t know that Nat knows?”

The god looks like he’s thinking hard for a moment before he speaks, “... Yes. But, you know what? It doesn’t matter who knows what. Now, enough of us know, that we could just tell them we know!” He says excitedly, “Then all the lying and secrets will finally be over!”

Nat nods, and Wanda gets a smirk on her face.

“Or, we could not tell them we know, and have a little fun of our own!” The witch giggles.

“Wait, well what do you mean?” Nat asks, turning back to face Wanda.

“Well every time that they say they’re like, doing laundry, we’ll just give them a bunch of laundry to do!”

Nat’s mouth forms an ‘O’ in understanding, “Ohh,” She claps silently, “I would enjoy that.”

Thor looks horrified, “Oh no no no. No wait wait. You know what would be even more fun? Telling them.”

Nat looks at him, but she’s already hyped up, “Nah, I wanna do Wanda’s thing.”

“I can’t take anymore-”

“Oh you don’t have to do anything. Just don’t tell them that we know!” Wanda snaps.

“No! I can’t take any more secrets!” Thor whines, running a hand down his face, “I’ve got your secrets, I’ve got their secrets, I’ve got secrets of my own, you know.”

“You don’t have any secrets.” Nat narrows her eyes.

“Oh yeah? You don’t know about Squish, my stuffed octopus.” Thor throes back before his eyes go wide.

It’s silent between all of them for a few seconds before Wanda clears her throat, “So, um,” She veers the conversation back to the situation at hand, turning back to Nat, “How are we gonna mess with them?”

Thor groans and leans back in the chair.

“Well, you could use your position, you know, as the best friend. And then I would use, you know, the strongest tool at my disposal. My sexuality.”

There’s another knock at the door.

“Come in!” Wanda calls.

The door opens to reveal Loki. Peter blushes furiously when he looks up to see the other god, and looks back to down, gluing his eyes on his phone.

“Hello, children.”

Everyone in the room replies with hellos.

“Y/N cannot find her journal. Have any of you heathens seen it?”

There’s a string of denials, nobody having seen the black leather journal you tend to carry around.

Nat turns to Wanda and winks, noticing Peter is now looking at her, and stands up to head towards Loki.

“Uh, hello?” Loki says, watching Nat approach him.

“Hey,” She says, finally stepping in front of him, “Oh wow, that jacket looks great on you.”

Loki quirks a brow and glances down at his clothing, then back to Nat, “Um, thanks?”

“Yeah, the material looks so soft,” She says as she strokes his arm, “Oh hello muscles,” She purrs, squeezing his bicep, “Have you been working out?”

Loki looks incredibly puzzled, “Yes, but need I remind you I am also a god.”

Suddenly Nat is giggling. Since when-

“Are you ill?”

She finishes giggling and looks in his eyes, “Well, if you really want to know,” She looks down at her hands, “Um- Oh I can’t tell you this.”

Loki shifts his weight onto the other foot, glancing at the other three behind her, then focusing back on her.

“While I do not enjoy discussing emotions, I can tolerate you more than most humans. If you would like to discuss something on your mind, I would not object.”

“Well actually, you’re the one person I can’t tell this to, and the one person I want to the most.”

“What the Norns is going on?” He asks, growing increasingly disturbed by this interaction.

“I think it’s just, you know, that I haven’t been with someone in so long and, you know how sometimes you’re looking for something and you just don’t even see that it’s right there in front of you dressed in a black suit…”

Loki glances down at himself again and his brows fly up for a split second as he looks back up to Nat.

“Oh no, have I said too much?” She coos, placing a hand on her chest, “Well, it’s just something to think about. I know I will.” She giggles again and walks over to where she set her mug down, bending at the waist and making an ‘oop’ sound, picking it up and then walks out of the room and past Loki, shooting him a wink.

Loki raises a brow at Thor, who has his face in his hands. Wanda is biting her lip to stop from bursting into a fit of laughter, and Peter’s cheeks are dusted pink with his eyes wide in shock.

***

“You are so cute. How did you get to be so cute?” You ask, looking down at Loki. He’s sprawled on his bed with his arm around you, tracing his fingers along your spine.

“I am not cute. I am a god. Handsome or pretty will do.”

You giggle in response, “Okay now you’re even cuter.” You tease, leaning down to kiss him.

“You know, that seems to be a popular opinion today, I must say.”

“What?”

“Well, the weirdest thing happened earlier today. I think… I believe Natasha was coming onto me.”

You chuckle, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m telling you, I think Natasha thinks I’m alluring.”

You look up at the wall and quirk a brow, then look back at him, “It’s not possible.”

“Ow?” Loki says, lifting his hands in a motion akin to ‘what the hel’.

You chuckle, “I’m sorry, it’s just… I mean Nat just thinks of you in a charming, sexless kind of way.”

“Oh well you know I… I can’t hear that enough.”

“I’m sorry, I just think you misunderstood her.”

Loki sits up, “No, I did not misunderstand. Humans are simple creatures-”

You narrow your eyes.

“Except for you, my darling,” He tries to placate, “But she was all over me. She touched my bicep for crying out loud.”

You grab his arm, and smirk, “This bicep?”

“Well it’s not flexed right now.”

You snort and fall back onto the bed in a fit of giggles.

***

You walk out of the elevator into the common room, headed to the kitchenette for some water.

“Hey, Y/N. What are you doing right now? You wanna come see a movie with us?” Nat asks, flipping through her magazine.

You stutter in your movements, hoping nobody noticed, and continue getting your water, “Uh, you know what, I was actually gonna do some laundry.”

You were out on a jog when Loki had texted you a long paragraph about what he wanted to do to you when you got back. Needless to say, you cut your jog short, turned around, and came straight back. When you turned back around to face your friends, you glanced at Loki, who was sitting on the loveseat with a book in hand. The fucker had the audacity to smirk.

Nat and Wanda look at each other, sharing a knowing look.

“Loki, you wanna do it with me?”

He closes his book and sets it down next to him, standing off of the couch, “Sure, I’ll do it with you.”

Nat smirks and stands, “Okay great! Hold on a sec.” She says before running out of the room. She returns a few minutes later with a large hamper full of laundry, “Ugh, here you go,” She sets it down behind the couch, “You don’t mind do you? That would really help me out a lot. Thanks!”

“Uh…” You look at her, not really sure how to respond.

“Oh! I have some too!” Wanda says.

You finally come out of your stupor, “Wait! Why am I doing everyone’s laundry? Do your own!”

Wanda makes a pouty face, “Because you love us and we asked nicely?”

You look at her incredulously before rolling your eyes, “Fine.”

Nat looks at her watch, “Oh! Alright, honey, we’d better go if we wanna catch that movie.”

They grab their jackets and bags, saying goodbye as they leave.

“Bye, Loki! I miss you already.” Nat says as she passes him, pinching his butt before entering the elevator with Wanda.

Once the doors slide shut, Loki looks at you, “Okay, did you see that?” He says hysterically, “With the inappropriate and the pinching?”

You nod, “Actually I did.”

“Okay so now do you believe that she’s attracted to me?”

You blink a few times, pieces of the situation coming together. Suddenly, your heart drops to your stomach.

“Oh my gods!” You look at the elevator and step around the counter towards the common room where Loki stood, “Oh my gods, she knows about us!”

“You are serious??”

“Natasha knows and she’s just trying to freak us out!” You throw your hands in the air, water bottle still clutched, “That’s the only explanation for it!”

Loki leans his head forward and raises his brows, “Okay but what about my pinchable butt and my bulging biceps?” He throws out an arm and runs his opposite hand over the lean limb before recognition settles over his face, “She knows!”

***

The door to Thor’s room flies open, startling the god, and both you and Loki enter.

“Thor.” Loki snaps, walking up to him, you hot on his tail. It looks like he had been in the middle of a nap.

“Yeah?” He says, throwing Squish behind a pillow.

You roll your eyes and Loki runs a hand down his face.

“Natasha knows about us.” Loki says, motioning between you and him.

Thor looks at you before furrowing his brows, “Well I didn’t tell them!”

“Them?” You hiss, “Who’s them?”

Thor looks guilty as he looks between the two of you, “Uhh, Natasha… And Thor.”

“Thor…” You warn.

“... And Wanda and Peter.”

You and Loki look at each other in annoyment.

Thor stands from his bed, “I would have told you, but they made me promise not to tell!”

“Odin’s beard!” Loki bites.

“I’m sorry!” Thor apologizes, and he does look sorry, “But hey! It’s over now, right? Cause you can tell them you know they know, and I can go back to knowing absolutely nothing!”

An idea pops into your mind, “Unless-”

“No, not ‘unless’! Look, this must end now!”

You ignore Thor’s small outburst, “Oh man, they think they are so slick messing with us! But see they don’t know that we know that they know. So…”

Thor looks confused as all hell by now, but realization dawns on Loki, “Ah, yes. The pranksters become the victims!”

Thor rolls his eyes, making an irritated noise, and flops back onto his bed.

***

Natasha, Wanda, and Peter are all hanging out in the common room playing Mario Kart when Natasha’s phone rings.

She pauses the game, putting the controller down and grabbing her phone, noticing the caller ID.

“It’s Loki!” She yelps, and suddenly she has both Peter’s and Wanda’s undivided attention.

They had filled Peter in on their plan, and he was more than happy to help prank you and Loki after what he had been inadvertently forced to see.

“Answer it!” Peter says, scooting closer.

“On speaker!” Wanda adds.

Natasha slides the green button and answers the call, putting it on speaker, “Hello, you.” She says in a sultry tone.

“Hello, Natasha. I have been thinking about you all day.” Loki’s voice fills the room.

Natasha almost chokes, and the other two snap their gaze to the phone, “Huh?”

“Well you know, that thing you said before. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued.”

“Really?” She asks, completely caught off guard.

“Yes, listen, why don’t you come to my room tonight and I’ll let you feel my muscles. Or maybe more.”

Natasha’s mouth falls open, as do the others’, and she grasps for some sort of answer.

“I’ll have to get back to you on that. Okay bye.” She hits end and her hands fly to her hair.

“Oh my god!” Wanda squeaks.

“He wants you to go over and feel his muscles and more!” Peter adds.

“Are you kidding?” Natasha says, trying to wrap the situation around her head, “I cannot believe he would to that to-” She cuts off mid sentence as a thought forms in her head. She turns slowly to face Thor, who had been munching on a slice of pizza while watching the Mario Kart tournament, “Thor…” Natasha says, “Do they know that we know?”

He looks at her with a guilty expression, and it’s quiet for a second too long before he answers, “No…”

“Thor…” This time his name is spoken in a warning tone.

He nods slowly, “They know you know.”

Natasha makes a noise of frustration, “I knew it! Oh, I cannot believe those two!”

“They thought that they could mess with us? They’re trying to mess with us?” Wanda guffaws, “They don’t know that we know they know we know.”

Thor groans behind them.

“And Thor you can’t say anything!” Peter turns and tells him.

He throws his hands in the air, “Couldn’t if I wanted to!”

***

Wanda, Nat, and Peter had ended their video game and moved to the couch to talk amongst themselves. You and Loki are standing in the doorway.

“Look at them, they’re panicked!” You whisper.

“Oh, yes. They’re definitely going to crack.” Loki whispers back.

You nod, “Oh yeah.”

Nat turns to look over her shoulder at the two of you and then looks back at her partners in crime.

“Alright, alright, if he wants a date, he’s gonna get a date.” She says, tucking back a strand of hair, “Alright, I’m gonna go.” She adjusts her jacket.

“Good luck!” Peter whispers.

Wanda is giving a subtle thumbs up, “Be sexy.”

Nat rolls her eyes, “Please.” She stands and walks towards Loki with a sexy smirk, swaying her hips back and forth.

He sees her coming and he pushes you away, standing to his full height and pocketing his hands.

You and Nat exchange a fleeting look before her focus is back on Loki.

“So, Loki, I’d love to come by tonight.”

The god’s smug smirk falls for a moment, before he forces it back, “Really?”

“Oh absolutely, should we say around seven?”

Loki tilts his head up slightly, trying to keep his composure, “Yes.”

Nat nods, “Good. I’m really looking forward to you and me having sexual intercourse.” She winks and walks back to her spot on the couch.

Loki gives you a desperate look and you hold your hands up, trying to calm him down.

***

The three troublemakers plus Thor are in Nat’s room. She’s wearing a black, form fitting dress that reaches her mid thigh, with knee high leather boots. Her red hair is straightened and the top layer of her hair is pulled back into a braid in the back of her head. Her makeup is mostly natural, with a subtle green tint on her lids. A modest amount of glitter dusted her cheekbones.

Wanda claps several times, “Showtime!”

“Okay, Peter, pick out a perfume. Over on my dresser. And Thor, can you go grab me a bottle of wine and some glasses?”

Thor huffs but does as he’s asked, leaving the room to fetch the items.

Peter walks up to her with a small bottle filled with purple liquid, “I like this one!”

Nat smiles at him, “One of my favorites,” She stretches her arms out and closes her eyes, “Hit me.”

Peter sprays a cloud of the scent in front of her, and she spins through it.

Thor returns a few minutes later with a bottle of sweet red and two crystal glasses.

~Meanwhile~

You straighten out Loki’s collar and smooth out his jacket.

“Alright, you’ll be great. You just make her think that you want to have sex with her, it’ll totally freak her out.” You spray breath freshener into his mouth and he recoils, not expecting the intrusive taste.

“Okay listen, how far am I going to have to go with her?”

“Relax! She’s gonna give in way before you do!”

“How do you know??” He asks, and he briefly asks himself how he even got caught up in this mess.

“Because you’re on my team, and my team always wins.”

He scrunches his face at you, “At this?” He makes a general motion with his hands.

You roll your eyes, “Just go get some!” You grab his face and give him a quick kiss before smacking his butt, “Go!”

You run to his bathroom and hide inside, listening to the events in the room unfold.

~

Peter, Wanda, and Natasha are all outside of Loki’s room.

Wanda hands the wine and glasses to Natasha, “Okay, Nat. Now we’re gonna try to listen from right here. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Oh wait!” Wanda reaches out and unzips the zipper on Nat’s chest, letting her breasts spill out a little more.

“Oh, good idea!” Peter says.

“Oh, hang on,” Wanda goes to try and pull it down a little more but Nat steps back.

“Don’t give away the farm!”

Wanda’s hands snap back to herself, and her and Peter hide against the wall as Nat knocks on the door.

It immediately opens, and Loki is there waiting.

“Natasha.”

“Loki.”

“Come on in.” He purrs.

“I was going to.” Nat giggles, and slides past him through the door. He follows her in and closes the door behind him. As soon as it shuts, Wanda and Peter shuffle to the door and press their ears to it.

Nat holds up the bottle in her hand, “I brought some wine. Would you like some?”

“Of course.”

Silence settles over the two as Nat sets the items on Loki’s heavy wooden dresser.

“So, here we are,” She says, pouring a glass of wine, “Nervous?”

“Me? Never. You?”

Her answer is immediate, “No. I want this to happen.” She hands him a glass.

“So do I.” He takes it.

They clink glasses and both down the alcohol like it’s water and they’d been stranded without any for days.

When they finish, they set the glasses down and Loki takes a step back, “I’m going to put on some music.”

He cuts on a song that Nat doesn’t believe she’s heard before. It’s definitely a classical song.

“Maybe I’ll dance for you.” Nat licks her lips, and starts to sway and move her body. She hopes the alcohol kicks in soon.

Loki raises a brow as she gets closer to him. He swallows harshly when she bumps her hips against him.

“You look ravishing.” He chokes out.

“Thanks,” She’s still moving herself to the music, “You know, when you say things like that, it makes me want to rip that… Suit right off.”

“Well, why don’t we move this to the bed.”

“Really?” Nat stops her dancing, the statement coming out of left field.

“Oh! Do you not want to?” Loki asks.

“No, no. I just, you know, first I want to take off all of my clothes and have you rub lotion on me.”

Loki can feel his heart sinking because he can tell that the woman isn’t going down without a fight. And for once, he doesn’t want a fight.

“Well, that would be nice.” He says instead, “I’ll go get the lotion.” He makes a bee line for his bathroom.

He opens the door and slams it behind him.

“This is getting completely out of hand. Alright? She wants me to put lotion on her!” He hisses quietly.

“She’s bluffing!” You hiss back.

Loki throws his hands up, exasperated, “Look, she’s not backing down. She did this!” He copies the hip bump that Nat had done to him earlier.

~

“He is not backing down. He went to get lotion.” Nat says.

She had gone and opened the door to talk to Wanda and Peter when Loki disappeared into the bathroom.

Wanda and Peter look at each other and Wanda wrings her hands.

Thor walks down the hallway and sees them gathered at the door.

“Oh man, aren’t you guys finished yet?” He whines, crossing his arms.

Wanda rolls her eyes, “Thor, look, just look at it this way: The sooner Natasha breaks Loki, the sooner this is all over and out in the open.”

Thor’s eyes light up, “Oh, I like that,” He looks at Nat and an idea comes to him, “Oh! Show your breasts. He’s afraid of looking at anyone else’s but Y/N’s.” He reaches out and pulls on the zipper in a quick motion, causing Natasha’s boobs to nearly fall out of the dress.

The girls gasp and Peter covers his eyes.

“Wow, you didn’t break it.” Nat says, inspecting the zipper and adjusting her breasts.

“Not my first time.” Thor says, cheekily.

~

“You go back out there,” You say, grabbing a bottle of lotion off the shelf, “And you seduce her ‘til she cracks!”

“Okay, give me a moment.” He takes the bottle from you and looks around the small space, “Did you reorganize in here?”

You shrug and push him out of the bathroom.

He stumbles slightly from the force and sees Nat closing the bedroom door.

“Oh, you’re leaving?”

She turns and looks at him, pushing her chest out, “Uh, not without you, lover.” She walks towards him, making sure to show her chest off as she sways her body, “So… These are my boobs.”

Loki glances down at them before locking his eyes on Nat’s.

“They’re very nice.”

They look at each other, exchanging forced sexual glances.

“Well, come here.” He tells her, “I’m very happy we will be having sex.”

Natasha chuckles nervously, “You should be. I’m very bendy.” She steps closer, “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Not if I kiss you first.”

She takes a last step forward and grabs one of his hips. He touches one of hers, then switches hands to touch the other. His heart is beating in his throat.

Natasha reaches out and grabs his other hip, jerking him forward. He tries to place a hand on her breast but can’t make himself go through with it, so he settles for her shoulder, and Nat makes a choked sound.

“Well I suppose there’s nothing left for us to do but kiss.”

Nat nods, “Here it comes. Our first kiss.”

Loki quickly glances at the door that you’re hiding behind before looking back to Nat. They’re faces get closer and closer, both desperately hoping that the other will break before their lips connect.

But neither does.

It’s awkward and barely a kiss, but after about two seconds, Loki rips himself away and pushes Nat away from him.

“Alright alright alright. Okay, you win! You win!” He yells, hands up in surrender.

“Hah!”

“I cannot have sex with you.”

“And why not?” Nat pushes.

“Because I’m in love with Y/N.” He admits, running a hand through his hair.

Nat’s heart stops and she can barely string words together, “You’re- You’re what?”

The bathroom door opens and you step out, at the same time the bedroom door swings open to reveal Wanda, Peter, and Thor.

“I love her. That’s right! I love her. I love her!” He repeats himself, pointing to you.

You feel butterflies grow in your belly and warmth blooms in your chest. You don’t care that you just lost this little game. Loki just proclaimed his love for you to a whole group of people. That’s not something he likes; letting others know his feelings.

You walk over to him, sporting a smile so wide that your cheeks hurt. He takes a step towards you and places his hands on your waist, looking into your eyes.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You let out a wet chuckle, “I love you too, Loki.”

He dips down and captures your lips in a searing kiss, pulling your body flush to his.

“I just… I thought you guys were doing it. I didn’t know you were in love!” Nat exclaims.

You turn and smile at your friend, hugging your boyfriend close. Loki chuckles and hugs you back.

“Awh, guys.” Peter says, a large smile on his face as well.

Loki smiles at the boy then looks to Nat, “And hats off to Natasha. Quite the competitor.” He reaches a hand out and the two shake hands, “And may I say your breasts are still out.”

“God.” She mumbles and quickly zips the dress back up.

“All right!” Thor booms, his face filled with joy, “So that’s it! It’s over! Everybody knows!”

“Yeah, well actually, not everybody,” You reply, “And we’d appreciate it if nobody told dad.”

Thor’s face falls and Peter grabs his arm to try and placate him.

***

Tony is watching Peter mess around on the obstacle course.

Peter lands at the end with a backflip and turns to make sure Tony is watching.

The older man holds a thumbs up, “You’re doing great, buddy!”

Movement catches his eye and he looks up to the window of your room. It takes his brain one too many seconds to realize what he’s seeing because he doesn’t want to believe it.

“No… No!” He yells, standing and taking a few steps forward.

Peter turns to look at what Tony is flipping out over and his blood runs cold, “Shit.” He whispers.

“Get off of my daughter!” Tony screams before he takes off towards the entrance to the compound and Peter takes off after him.

Tony runs down the hallway screaming.

“Loki! Loki!” He reaches your room and tries to open it, but it’s locked. He bangs on it several times, “Loki! I saw what you were doing through the window! I saw what you were doing to my daughter, now get out here!”

You and Loki jump up and quickly fix yourselves.

“Well, listen, we had a good run. What was it? Four? Five months? I mean, that’s more than most humans have in a lifetime, so goodbye, take care, goodbye then.” Loki finishes his ramblings with a chaste kiss to your lips before walking to your balcony.

You quickly catch his wrist, “What are you doing?”

“Oh I’m going on the lam.”

You roll your eyes and pull him back towards you, “Come on, Loki, come on. I can handle my dad.”

You drag him with you and open the door to reveal Tony, who is as red as Thor’s cape.

“Hey dad, what’s up?”

He looks at you and then Loki, and storms into the room towards him.

Loki takes several steps back and you run to place yourself between them.

“Dad!” You place your hands on his chest.

“What the hell are you doing!” He yells.

Suddenly almost the entire team is running up to your bedroom door where Peter was already waiting.

“Hey, what’s-what’s going on?” Natasha interjects.

“Well I think… I think… Stark knows about Y/N and I.”

“Brother,” Thor makes a throat cut motion, “He is right there.”

Loki rolls his eyes.

“You are an semi-immortal god that wiped out half of Manhattan and causes trouble everywhere he goes, and this is my daughter. Loki and my daughter, I-I cannot believe this!”

“Look Stark, we are not just fooling around. I love her. Alright? I’m in love with her.”

Tony takes a few breaths and moves his gaze to you.

You step forward and grab his hand, “I’m sorry that you had to find out this way… I’m sorry but it’s true, I love him too.” You reach your other arm back to pull Loki into your side.

He looks at you with unsure eyes, then looks up at Loki and back to you. Then out of nowhere, his demeanor completely changes.

“Loki and my daughter! I cannot believe this!” He says with a more happy tone, bringing them both into a hug, surprise etching Loki’s face. He pulls away and looks at everyone in the doorway, “You guys probably wanna get some hugs in too, huh? Big news!” He says the last part with jazz hands.

Everyone on the team who wasn’t aware files in for hugs and congrats, but the other four stay in the doorway.

Peter smiles, “Awh, no we’re okay, we’ve actually known for a while.”

The smile on Tony’s face vanishes.

“What? What? You guys knew?” He stalks closer and Peter jumps behind Natasha, “You all knew and you didn’t tell me?” His voice became raised again.

“W-Well, Tony, we were worried about you, okay? We didn’t know how you were gonna react.” Wanda explains.

Tony looks between the four of them before the weary smile appears again.

“You were worried about me?” He chuckles, “You didn’t know how I was gonna react?” He pulls all of them into a tight hug.

When he lets them go Thor speaks up, “Okay. What do you say we all, uh, clear out of here and let these two lovebirds get back down to business.”

Tony’s smile vanishes yet again and he turns to glare at the god.

“Hey, hey, hey. I’m just talking here. He is the one sleeping with your daughter.” He points to Loki.

Peter facepalms and Nat drags Thor away, Peter following suit. Peter collects Tony and nods to you and Loki. Everyone files back out of the room and the door closes once more.

After everyone left, there were a few seconds of silence before the two of you burst into hysterical fits of laughter.

***

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[feverinfeveroutfic]

like blood from a stone | chapter twenty-one

(ao3 title: heart attack & vine)

A part of me could not bear to face the truth of what had happened, especially when I thought ahead to the point of having to explain to the wedding party up there that Joey had collapsed and was in dire need of some food in his poor stomach. I didn’t want to think about it, and I sure as hell didn’t want my own fiancé to see me with Joey of all people: I knew there was a danger of having to explain to Chuck that this other Chuck was the right Chuck for me. But I looked over at him, the other man on the other side of Joey’s shoulders with a flustered expression on his face, and I couldn’t help but feel lost in those big luminescent eyes. 

I had faith in him. I could trust him, and in fact, I trusted him to the ends of the earth. 

I trusted Joey as well. I couldn’t explain it, and I couldn’t exactly understand as to why he placed such a deep sense of trust within me, but I could feel it in my bones, however. 

Chuck and I put our arms around Joey’s upper body, and we led him back up the walkway there, back up to the Boardwalk before us. All the while, I had slung that heavy dress that he had worn over my shoulder. If nothing else, then we would have to keep up the lie all together. Between the three of us and whoever saw us together, I knew that we could skirt around everything and everyone no matter who came for us. 

When we reached the Boardwalk, Joey rolled his head onto his shoulder so his lush black curls could obscure his face from onlookers. But Chuck and I kept at it, however. 

But then again, I had no idea as to where the hospital was in proximity to that singular stretch of amusement. I didn’t know Santa Cruz all that well and thus, I was genuinely struggling to see past the buildings and things there on the Boardwalk in search of anything that could perhaps give us a sign. 

“Alex, this way!” 

Chuck guided me off to the right, towards the place with the popcorn and, when I took a second look, I noticed several bunches of cotton candy behind the popcorn machine itself. When I peered over my shoulder, I noticed that the Boardwalk eventually gave way to low outbuildings and a few more rides. No way anyone over that way would be willing to help us. 

We trudged onward towards the popcorn, and I was once again of that lush smell. And yet, it was only then that I could smell the sugar cooking from the same exact spot. One of my favorite smells, especially from a place like the Boardwalk! It always made me think of decadent caramel and juicy freshly sliced apples for a nice big pie over Rosh Hashanah. Always so warm and a flash of comfort, especially in a time like this, and in a time in which I had no desire to eat anything else after the decadence that we had helped ourselves to prior to then. 

Joey’s feet dragged along the wooden boards, but I could see his feat of strength within him, however. His head bobbed forward, and his curls sprawled down over his bare chest and his shoulders. But he raised his head at one point, and his eyes drooped open all to level himself with the aged wooden boards before us. Chuck grunted and groaned as he struggled to keep him upright between the two of us, but somehow, we both managed to keep him going along. Joey was fighting his own fight and we were helping him every step of the way. 

Meanwhile, his dress was starting to feel the heavier of the two, and I had no idea if it was from the actual fabric or the fact that I had raised my shoulder up without even so much as noticing it. Nevertheless, I hoisted up his dress and we kept at it until we reached the counter. 

The guy behind the counter turned around and gaped at us. 

“This guy’s got a weak heart and we’re worried sick about him,” Chuck told him once we were within earshot. 

“He might be having a heart attack,” I added as we stopped right by the edge of the counter, all so we were out of the way. “Call 9-1-1.” 

“Okay, I'll call an ambulance!” he assured us; I watched him duck down to the shelf underneath the counter for something, and I realized that it was pocket change. The guy didn’t even have proper access to a phone, and he had to use one of the payphones nearby there. But he ran out of the back door as fast as he could while his colleagues kept up the pace along the counter there. The girl closest to us glanced back at us every so often in between her making bags of popcorn and sticks of cotton candy to ensure we were alright. 

Joey bowed his head forward and he rolled his eyes into the back of his head as if he was about to pass out, but he never did. His otherwise sun-kissed skin had washed out against the flickering white floodlights that lined the Boardwalk and beads of sweat collected around the crest of his brow. The poor guy must have been starving, but he also had to have just the worst feeling in his chest right then. 

“It’s alright, Joe—we'll get you the help you need,” I told him in a low voice. 

“Oh, god—” Joey gasped. “I almost feel like I can’t breathe.” He gasped and swallowed, as if he was in fact out of breath and there was no way of catching up. 

The guy behind the counter hurried up to us, still with his apron tied around his waist and his chest. 

“The medics are coming right now,” he assured us. 

“Okay, thank you so much,” Chuck told him. Breathing hard, Joey leaned back towards the wall behind us. 

“I think he wants to sit down,” I suggested, and Joey nodded his head at that. Gently, we let him lean all the way back against the wall. Even though we hadn’t let him go all the way, his knees still buckled underneath him, and he slid down to the aged wood underneath our feet. 

He let out a low, slightly pained moan. I crouched down, and I nudged his hair out from his eyes and his pale face. He looked so clammy and so hungry, and I suddenly felt bad for having feasted on such a big early dinner with Chuck right before then. 

His eyes stayed open even though it was obvious that time began to slow down. Every passing second felt like a minute, and though it would be only a few minutes before the medics showed up at the Boardwalk gates, it felt like a few hours instead. I closed my eyes, all while I tried to fixate on the smell of the cooked sugar and the popcorn right in front of us. I wasn’t hungry, but those smells alone were enough to bring me back to comfort, back to the feeling of home. 

Sirens perforated the scene behind us, and I relaxed my shoulders at that. Joey was going to be okay. 

I opened my eyes and the guy behind the counter resurfaced there, still enveloped in his white apron. 

“Here, let me help you guys—” he offered us. 

“Aw, thanks, man,” I told him, and the three of us helped Joey up off the wood and towards the other side of the building and into the narrow alley, all the way back towards the front gate. At least we were out of the way and the night was upon us at that moment: indeed, I gazed straight ahead to the chapel across the street and the place looked dark. The rehearsal dinner had in fact been called off for the time being, and we would have to pick things up the next day. 

As long as Joey was healthy and safe and with food in his stomach and medicine in his system, and Chuck and I had our hands off each other, it didn’t matter to me all that much at that point. 

The dress weighed down my shoulder, but the three of us helped bring Joey to the front gate, away from the waning crowds for the incoming night. I turned my head right as the ambulance turned the corner up the street, right out from behind a bowling alley no less, and they made their way towards us. We stopped right at the curb, and we awaited them there: they pulled up in front of us and two medics in dark blue scrubs hopped out with the stretcher. 

“Thanks a million, man,” Chuck told the guy. 

“No problem, you guys—you be safe for us!” He then doubled back to his stand to finish his job, and we helped Joey onto the stretcher. Chuck and I backed away so the medics could strap him in and help him out. 

I noticed something out of the corner of my eye, and I spotted Jeff right across the street from there, with his hair nicely brushed and his clothes nicely pressed, as if he, too, was to be a part of the wedding himself. He raised his eyebrows at the sight of Chuck and me. 

“Alex?” he mouthed towards me. 

I turned my attention to Chuck, whom I believed stayed there by my right side, but when I turned to look, he had gone. I returned to Jeff as he glanced both ways and then darted across the street for me. 

“Alex!” he declared over the idle of the ambulance’s engine. 

“Jeff, I—I can explain,” I started once he came within earshot. 

“What the hell is going on!” he demanded, and his voice echoed over the sidewalk before us as well as the street behind us. 

I clasped a hand to his mouth. “Jeff! Hush!” 

He scrambled out from under my grip, and he spat, even though my hands were perfectly clean. “Why? What—What the hell—” I put my hand back onto his mouth again, but he still struggled to pull away from me. 

The medics kept working, all to load Joey up onto the ambulance, and Jeff finally tore away from me. 

“What the hell is going on?” he demanded, out of breath. I turned to the stretcher behind us and the look of utter delirium on Joey’s oval face. Even though I had my alibi, I still couldn’t help but feel the pervasive sense of guilt, the guilt that Chuck and I had fucked up and now, the secret was about to find its way over to my fiancé as well as the realm of Death over in central Florida. 

Jeff tapped me on the shoulder. 

“Alex, what is going on? Could you please talk to me?” 

I fetched up a sigh and I pressed my hands to his hips. I looked on at Jeff and the stern expression on his face. The both of us were always so stern in our default expressions that there were moments where I wondered as to why he and I hadn’t seen each other as soulmates. 

“Okay. But you have got to keep a promise that you won’t tell anyone else about this.” 

He squinted his eyes at me. 

“Okay,” he replied, reluctantly. “But first of all, why am I being sworn to secrecy?” 

“Because it’s imperative that we keep this all under wraps,” was all I could tell him. 

He fluttered his eyelashes at me. “That doesn’t tell me anything.” 

“Okay, fine.” I rolled my eyes and then bowed my head. “If the secret gets out, the royalty might be in jeopardy.” I lifted my head back up for a look at him and the curious expression still plastered across his face. 

“What secret?” he demanded. 

“Hey, one of you boys want to ride with us?” the medic on the right asked us right then. 

“I’ll go with,” Jeff volunteered. 

“Really?” I asked him. 

“Yes! I caught him over there across the street when you were over here earlier,” he said in a single breath. “I’ll ride along with Joey. Besides, I'll meet you there.” 

I sighed again. “Okay, it’s a deal. And I promise I'll explain it to you once we’re at the hospital.” 

“Deal,” he declared, and we bumped fists together. Jeff then followed the medics aboard the back of the ambulance. 

“Excuse me, how do I get to the hospital?” I asked the medics. 

“We’re gonna go all the way down to the end of Beach Street here,” the one on the left explained. “And then we’re going to loop around until we reach Front Street, and then hang a right on Soquel and then we’re just going to follow it all the way up.” 

“Okay, thank you,” I said, and I handed him Joey’s dress. “Also, this is his.” Simple enough, and I hailed from California; I was used to directions like that. The medic tucked the dress, still rolled up in a little wad, underneath the stretcher as they loaded him up. They closed the doors and I returned to the gates of the Boardwalk once again, right as Chuck resurfaced from behind the place with the popcorn. 

“Where’d you go?” I asked him once he came back to me. 

“I wanted to thank that guy for helping us,” he explained. “The girl in there with him also asked me if everything was okay, too.” 

“I see. Um—do you want to come with me to the hospital?” 

“I don’t really know,” he confessed. “I sort of winged it getting out here and I don’t really have a means of transportation.” 

“Damn. Well, I think the buses are still running.” I craned my neck for a look behind him, to the darkness that fell over the Boardwalk as well as the wharf not too far from there. “Do you think maybe we can catch one of them?” 

“I don’t know, to be honest,” he confessed. “Surely, it can’t be that far.” 

“Just up to Front Street where we came in and then hanging a right on—Soquel, is what I think he said,” I recalled. “We’re going to have to go over a hill, but he told me to follow it all the way up until we reach the hospital.” 

“Hill or not, I’ve walked much farther than that,” Chuck pointed out as we started walking across the street, back towards the chapel as well as one of the main arteries near there. Indeed, most of the cars had left the block and I wondered where Chuck whom I was engaged to had run off to himself given I didn’t see his car. Eric and Louie were parked around the other side, and I had no desire to even so much as look back there. 

Despite Santa Cruz being of considerable size, the streets seemed oddly quiet for that time of evening. That time of evening was considered happy hour up in San Francisco and the nightlife always came alive as a result, even if the place wasn’t as lively as Los Angeles or San Diego. 

But he and I walked together, up the street, to the next block, followed by the next one and the next one. Indeed, I, too, had walked further, but I had no idea if it was the rush of everything, of the memory of having cradled Joey in our arms up to the gates as well as that dress of his slung over my shoulder, but I found myself feeling a bit more winded than usual. It wasn’t long before then that he and I had just eaten a rather stout meal of Boardwalk food and then took a little walk on the beach. 

Indeed, as he and I broke into a brief run at one point, about a block or so before we reached Pacific Street, I could feel the sand dollar that I had found earlier in my jean pocket. That little white medallion was part of the alibi, and I knew that I could talk my way out of it as I did with Cliff and Lars. It wasn’t the best way to kick off a marriage, for sure, it could buy me some more time to be with the man whom I knew was my soulmate. 

All the while, the cute little beach houses that lined the block around us made me yearn for the coziness and the comfort of the hotel bed that Chuck and I were to share later that night. 

Chuck himself, meanwhile, stopped at one point, about a block before we reached Pacific Street, and he bowed forward and set his hands upon his knees. I stopped as well, and I lingered down next to his face to better look into it. 

“You okay?” I asked him. 

“Yeah. It's just—I think you and I ate too much.” 

“Joey didn’t eat enough, and we ate too much,” I cracked. 

“Exactly!” He gasped and cleared his throat before he stood up right once again. He ran his fingers through his hair, and he peered behind him to the quiet street and the Boardwalk lights at the far end. I looked on at the shape of his face, at the way that his hair sprawled over his shoulders and the way that the California sun treated him well up to that point. And suddenly, I remembered why the man was my soulmate. 

“All of this rushing around has worked up bit of an appetite for me,” I confessed, and Chuck glanced over me with an unsure little smile on his face: those dimples made a triumphant return. 

“Seriously?” he asked me with a raise of his eyebrow. 

“Yeah. Surely, you’ve got to be hungry yourself, babe.” 

He shook his head. “No, we ate rather heartily on the Boardwalk, Alex.” He set a hand on his stomach. “I’m still full from all the pastrami and French fries that we had eaten.” He stopped for a second. “You're seriously still hungry?” 

I lowered my eyelids at him, and I never moved a muscle for a single inch. He then raised his eyebrows at me. 

“Oh. Oh, you’re that hungry.” 

I flashed him a little wink, which I then followed up with a lopsided little grin on my face. He tucked a lock of hair behind his ear and bowed his head all the while. When he showed me a little smile in return, his cheekbones looked fuller and rounder, like little round apples straight off the tree branch: it reminded me of myself, of the way that I would smile and the way that it would make me think of the ripest, most delicious fruit I could possibly think of. 

“We dine like princes; we get down like princes,” I told him in a low voice. Chuck rolled his eyes at me. 

“Alex, I don’t really think this is the most appropriate place for this,” he confessed: through the incoming shadows, I could see him swallow, complete with a little bob of that Adam’s apple. I could not, for the life of me, stop thinking about apples. The most delicious, most forbidden fruit known to man. 

I showed him the tip of my tongue, and he swallowed down once again. 

Though my stomach was full itself, I still had the craving like crazy, though. I still wanted it all for myself. Chuck took a glimpse over his shoulder, all to ensure that we were alone. Joey was getting the help that he needed in the hospital, Jeff was in there to oversee things for himself, and we were all alone there with the nightfall right over our heads. He leaned closer to me, and I could smell the French fries on his lips, along with the slash of cologne on the side of his neck. 

“You sure you really want to do this?” he asked me right into my face. I showed him my tongue again. Oh, good Lord, I was hungry. After having turned eighteen, I wanted nothing more than to delve into my own and feel myself out for myself. I couldn’t do it unless I was willing: I could always use the power of my own hand, but there was something about being so close to a guy like Chuck, the guy whom I shared the soul bond with even with my own wedding on my doorstep. I yearned for it, every single last little part of it on my tongue and on my fingertips. To feel those lips, to feel his skin, to feel so lush in my own rite. 

“I mean, we’re out on the street, after all,” he pointed out. “We’re near an alleyway here, but we’re going to be nestled in between somebody’s houses, though.” 

To which I shrugged my shoulders. 

“Yeah? So?” 

“So?” He gaped at me. “Alex, what if you and I get caught?” 

“We won’t,” I assured him with a shake of my head. “We were out in the forest on the other side of the house—we can get down out here in the street. Like the Beatles song.” 

“’Why Don’t We Do It in the Road’?” he asked me. 

“Exactly!” 

He puckered his lips at me, and then he took me by the hand, and he led me a few feet up the sidewalk to the alleyway in question: it was this narrow little strip of rough, rugged blacktop surrounded by those big coastal spruces, a few scraggly ponderosa pines, and a handful of lush bushes along twin white picket fences. We could stand underneath that one spruce closest to the street—those evergreen trees which looked as though they had been uprooted from the earth and supplanted upside down where they came—and we could make a little love under the stars all the while. 

The shadows surrounded us as I wrapped my arms around his slim waist, and my lips on those soft silken ones of his. He still tasted like pastrami and French fries, but the passion was undeniable within him, though. He leaned back against the tree trunk, and he put one foot up behind him. My hands made their way underneath his shirt all to feel his sides and his back: his hands, meanwhile, found their way down my pants all to touch me. 

His long and lanky fingers slithered down the curvature of my ass and he gave me a nice little squeeze on both sides. The feeling of his fingers there sent a shiver up my spine and brought the warmth back to my chest and my stomach. 

His right hand moved to the front of my jeans. His fingers curled my shaft. 

Meanwhile, my fingers fondled along the curve appeal of his hipbones. My right hand found its way to his stomach to feel his skin there. So soft, so silken. Like touching the sweetest sugar cane that had been cooked into the most luscious caramel I could ever dream of. 

I was about to bring my fingers down inside of the front of his jeans as well, when he suddenly lifted his head. 

“What’s the matter?” I asked him in a husky whisper. He nodded to the street right behind me; I turned my head, and I spotted that familiar car at the corner up the way. 

“And there’s my fiancé,” I quipped, and I leaned my head back and let out a soft but pained groan. 

“Shall we commence some time tomorrow?” he offered me. 

“Before or after the wedding?” I asked him, and he shrugged his shoulders. 

“Whichever tickles you best.” Through the darkness, he winked at me and then he bowed away from the tree trunk into the alleyway. I wondered as to where he was going when the car headlights washed over the back of my head. 

I was a mess: no way I could face Chuck my fiancé in such slovenly fashion. But then again, I wondered if it made sense considering what had happened to Joey back there. He bounded up before me right as I fixed my jeans. I squinted my eyes, and I caught the sound of a car door opening. 

“Alex! What the hell is going on?” he demanded. 

“Oh, my god, Chuck—you should’ve seen it. Joey and I—” I had to resist the urge to include Chuck in there. “—were hanging out down on the Boardwalk and we went down to the beach together, you know, just to take a walk and shit—and he starts shaking like crazy. I guess he hadn’t eaten in hours.” 

I ran my fingers through my hair. I could hardly shake the taste of Chuck’s smooth silken skin from the inside of my mouth or upon the pad of my tongue, but I had to maintain my composure, however. He had woken something inside of me right then, and I didn’t really want my fiancé to witness it for himself, right before his very eyes. Meanwhile, this Chuck rounded the front of the car with a frown plastered across his face and his eyebrows knitted together. 

“What the hell were you guys doing down on the Boardwalk? I've been looking all over for you.” 

“I guess, uh—Eric and Lou drove him out here and I saw him and we just—kinda—started hanging out together.” 

“Eric and Lou brought him out here, really?” he asked him, taken aback by that. 

“Yeah. Yeah, you didn’t see him with them?” 

He shook his head. “Can’t say that I have,” he confessed to me. He peered over his shoulder to the street right behind him. “Is Joey by himself?” 

“Jeff’s riding in the ambulance with him,” I replied. “You know, Jeff Becerra?” 

“Oh, yeah, yeah.” He nodded at me, and then his expression turned thoughtful once more. “It's funny, I saw him outside of the chapel, but I promise that I didn’t see Joey over there, though.” 

“Huh. That's odd.” 

“Anyways, get in,” Chuck encouraged me, and I hurried to the passenger side door: I almost slid right off the seat once I was in there, but I caught myself as I strapped myself in. 

Once it happened, I really didn’t like how I had just lied to Chuck, right to his face, about the other Chuck as well as part of what happened to Joey. Nevertheless, there was a bit of truth to it: Joey and I did walk on the beach together and I had a defense in the form of the sand dollar in my pocket. I was unshakably certain that I had fucked up by lying to him. But it was what I could do, though. 

[oliviayamaoka]

Heartfelt Deception (Joey / The Legion x F!Reader)

 Y/N is a rather new and young survivor, taking a while to become accustomed to the brutal trials set out by the god-like figure known as the Entity. 

Feeling alone and in despair, you meet somebody who begins to slowly change the way you perceive yourself and your current situation.

Y/N wasn’t sure what this place was called, it was a cold place. You shivered as you hugged yourself, walking through the snowy winds trying to find a generator. A part of you felt crazy for thinking your clothes were thin but it was just the piercing cold weather. Y/N looked up before noticing the killer shack, you quickly ran towards it. You hoped there was a generator there to warm up your hands slightly. 

As you entered the shack, you stumbled across four lockers, a generator, and a firey totem at the corner. You shut your eyes in relief, stumbling somewhat. You felt as though your legs were about to freeze off at any moment. A part of you regretted not asking any other survivors about this realm. You were relatively new to the realms and hadn’t fought many killers yet, not that you wanted to.

“Oh, god.” You mumbled as you kneeled downwards, immediately getting to work on the generator. Your lips curved into a smile upon feeling the warmth of the machine and the sparks of the wires. 

Your eyes averted towards the totem with the fire. For a second, you wanted to use that to warm up but you wanted to finish this generator as fast as you could. There was a strong sense of focus and determination within you at that moment.

“You got this.” You mumble. You weren’t exactly hyping yourself up, it was just you reacting to your circumstances by mumbling.

It felt lonely and pathetic, doing a generator by yourself, You felt a small sense of pity towards the others for not accompanying you. A sigh escaped your mouth for even thinking about that. Five generators, four survivors. Of course you all should split up for the sake of survival. Stop being so selfish, you thought to yourself. In fact. you didn’t even see which other survivors were here. Your train of thought was interrupted as somebody entered the shack.

Your hands trembled as you observed the figure that walked in. Within those seconds, you just assumed it wasn’t the killer. It was a guy in darker clothing. There was a streak of black paint spread across his eyes. His expression remained unchanged and rather welcoming. Another survivor.

“Um, hey.” You say awkwardly to him as you turned your head back to the generator. There were two wires that needed connecting.

“Hey, hey.” He replied, nodding his head as he watched you. 

“Wanna help? If you want, of course. There’s also a totem there. The Entity told me that the firey ones could help us.” You said. He smirked slightly as he began to work on the generator, kneeling down beside you. The guy seemed lean.

“Let’s finish this up first. I don’t think I caught your name, by the way.” He said to you. His presence felt relaxing, he was about eighteen or nineteen. it was peaceful to have somebody else young here.

“Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Y/N, what’s yours?” You asked him with a smile. 

“Name’s Joey.” He responded to you as you nodded.

“It’s nice to meet you, Joey.” Y/N said as she looked around the shack again to make sure there wasn’t anything out of place. 

“I haven’t seen you around much. Well, I have, I guess. We just never got to talk and whatever.” He shrugged.

“I wish it were under better circumstances.” You replied as you stood up, walking towards the firey totem in the corner. His eyes shot up as you did so.

“Woah, woah, woah. No need for that right now.” Joey reassured you, quickly standing in front of you with his hands up to his chest to slightly push you away from it. Your eyebrows raised up in surprise for a second.

“Oh, I thought breaking them would help us.” Y/N said as he scratched the back of his neck with a small smile.

“Eh, not really. You ought to avoid these ones entirely. The Entity will say anything to have you--or us suffer. Trust me.” Joey explained as you nodded your head, being rather naive about what he said.

“Makes sense. What is this place, anyways?” You asked him as he peered out through the killer shack window. The winds calmed down.

“It’s called Mount Ormond.” He said in a rather reminiscent yet relaxed tone. 

You nodded a bit, This must’ve been the realm he was plucked out of based on his reaction to it. Maybe his family resort? You weren’t sure at all but you enjoyed making assumptions and theories about the people here. Hell, you met somebody that claimed to be from the 70′s. Either way, at least you found a friend in Joey and somebody to hang out with at the camp.

“Are you from here?” You asked him.

“Huh? Oh, well... It’s complicated. I do really like this place though. I’ve never felt more free before this whole shitshow happened.” Joey replied. 

“Sorry to hear... sounded fun.” You say to him.

“It was... best few moments of my life until Frank... nevermind. Is your generator almost done?” He asked.

“Almost, I think.” You responded as the generator lit up. 

Your face immediately lit up as you bounced back up, proud of your accomplishment. Joey smiled and lifted his hand up to high-five you. You smacked your hands against his. He chuckled at your excitement, he seemed to quickly grow fond of you. Y/N looked around before looking back at him.

“You should come with me.” You say to him.

“I... wish I could.” He said with a small hint of guilt and sadness in his voice. He quickly noticed how depressing he sounded and stood up straight.

“I wish I could! I mean, we already wasted enough time on one generator. And you’re a fast learner so I’m sure you can pop these motherfuckers really fast.” Joey said to you, confident in your abilities. You nodded with a small smile.

“Thanks, Joey.” You said to him, rubbing your hands together at the door. Joey noticed you must’ve been freezing. He stared for a moment before building up the confidence

“Here, you must be freezing.” He said, sliding off his gloves and giving them to you. You felt your cheeks burn up as you reluctantly took his gloves, he seemed to push them towards your chest. Joey was very insistent on you taking them.

“I, um... thank you. I mean it.” You stammered as he nodded, clasping his hands together and taking a few steps back in a very confident manner.

“Like, I know I don’t sound genuine or anything but thank you. Thanks for helping me and um, being my friend. I’m sorry if I sound stupid but like, this place is just so fucked up, y’know?” You say to him as you sat down in front of the generator, sliding his gloves on. Joey felt his heart tingle slightly.

“Nah, you don’t sound weird at all. It’s probably shitty to...I mean, it is shitty fighting killers and whatnot. I get you.” He said, sitting down next to you. It felt strange yet intoxicating for him to be in such a close proximity to you.

“Yeah... how do you do it, Joey? Having to live an eternity getting fucking hooked... and tortured by these fuckers.” You asked him as your voice began to crack and tremble. Tears welled up in your eyes as he stared in shock.

“Just--don’t worry about that right now. The killer hasn’t hurt you this time and he won’t, I promise he won’t. Believe me.” He said as you wiped your eyes with your sleeve.

“I just wanna go back... I don’t get it.” You mumbled, looking upwards as you tried to relax yourself. 

Joey hesitated but wrapped one arm around you. You welcomed the gesture and rested your head against his chest slightly. Any form of comfort right now felt nice to have. Your eyes shut as Joey rubbed your shoulder a bit. He felt very scared and vulnerable in that moment but he did his best to comfort you. Joey never would’ve imagined his first encounter with you would be so... nice?

“It’s fucked up, I know but... don’t let these things destroy who you are. You seem like a tough person. I never let what happened to me destroy who I was. And now, well... I’m free. I can do what I want, when I want.” He said to you.

Joey felt guilty. He saw a part of himself he never wanted to acknowledge within you. A part that needed consoling, a part of him that only felt regret and pain. For what he would do to you one day and for what he did to that janitor. Why did he have to be so stupid sometimes? Joey found you in the purgatory he was meant to be punished in, to kill for god knows how long.

“That does sound nice... sorry for being a suck.” You said as you got up and hurried towards the door. Joey seemed to be in a bit of a rush too since he needed to please the Entity some sort of way.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Thanks for being my fourth friend... I meant what I said, though. Just don’t think of me as.. bad.” He said as he slid out the door.

You stared in slight confusion before bracing yourself for the coldness. You began to make your way to the next generator.

One all generators were complete, you made your way to the exit gate. You noticed three girls. Y/N stopped in confusion as she stared at them. Feng Min, Kate Denson, and Claudette Morel. Claudette was wrapping up her own wounds as Feng began to open the door. Four survivors... four survivors.

“Hey there, stranger. You okay?” Kate asked as she playfully nudged you.

“Where is Joey?” You asked her as she stared blankly at you.

“Joey?” She questioned as you finally put two and two together.

You spoke with the killer? He didn’t kill you. Wait, you let a killer embrace you. No, not a killer, it was Joey. No, Joey was a killer. Your mind raced as you spaced out, ignoring the blaring noise of the door opening. Kate nudged you softly again.

“Did you get caught in his frenzy? That shakes a lot of folks up.” She said.

“Oh, yeah... I guess...” You replied as the gates opened.

“Alright, ladies, Let’s roll.” Feng said jokingly as you walked with them outside of the place. You were both confused and horrified at what just happened. It was weird because you felt so at peace and even inspired from him. Joey made you feel confident. You inhaled sharply from the coldness as you made your escape.

Joey watched from a distance at the lodge with his mask on, he leaned against the doorframe. He felt disappointed that you’d figure it out sooner or later. He sighed deeply, feeling frustrated and angry. Now, he felt like listening to his mixtape and returning to being the edgy troublemaker he was until he got to talk to you again.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Thank you for reading! This was kinda based off of the HC’s I made of the Legion where Joey always had a crush on you. Might do a part two since I enjoyed writing this but stay tuned if I do :)

[hermits-that-craft]

In My Dreams (Will You Remember Me?)

Flower Husbands Fic - Chapter Four - The hues in our hair compliment one another

Ao3 in the comments

Jimmy watches as the guests walk in, gawking at the decorations that he, Katherine and Gem put so much effort into. Pride fills his chest - a week of hard work paying off in happy citizens and rulers alike. Jimmy nods politely to Iris as they walk in, he knows that being one of Pix’s advisors means that the dryad doesn’t get much time off, so he hopes that they enjoy themself.

A group of dryads bow to him before they disappear into the crowd, which makes him happy - he’s still recognisable with the mask that Katherine gave him. It’s a standard masquerade mask, though it has small cod painted on it in bronze paint, though it has a white veil attached the the lower half to cover his face. It was nice of Katherine, to remember that he prefers to hide his face.

He feels safe with his face hidden.

Jimmy watches as a young woman in a black cloak comes in, and an axolotl hybrid from his empire chats with a man from Mezalea. He’s glad that they opened to ball not only to the leaders of the empires but their citizens as well, and a fae man in a forest green vest dances with a spirit in a ribbon skirt.

The doors open, distracting Jimmy from people watching for a moment.

Lizzie walks in, the necklace around her neck shimmering in the glow from the purple lanterns. Jimmy watches as everyone gawks at the wedding gift that he gave her - it’s rare to see her wear it out of battle. The necklace has two axolotls, one made of rose quartz and the other of red jasper, curled around a pearl and inset in silver. It was handcrafted by the finest artisans of the Cod Empire, and Jimmy himself carefully enchanted it with healing and protection.

The best wedding gift she received, if Jimmy does say so himself.

“You clean up nicely, did Katherine give you that suit?” Lizzie teases, pointedly ignoring the stares she receives as she walks across the room to him.

“You’ll find that your husband did, for your wedding.” Jimmy smiles. “Though I did get it altered slightly for the party.”

“You didn’t put slime in it, did you?”

“Lizzie!” Jimmy gasps, pushing his sisters arm in rage. She laughs, ignoring his fake rage.

“I’m very glad you ditched the cod head.” She says. “I think Katherine would have killed you.”

“She actually gave me this mask.” Jimmy admits. 

“Ohh, look at Scott’s outfit.” Lizzie says, and Jimmy turns back to the crowd. 

Scott stands next to Joey, looking mildly uncomfortable. The king of the lost empire wears a red suit with a black crown, rubies and jaspers adorning it. But Joey’s outfit pales in comparison to the one that Scott wears.

Scott’s wearing an intricate white top, with long sleeves that bell out at the end. He has a high waisted skirt, fading from a sky blue into a deep, ocean blue. He looks like he’s stepped out of a high fantasy story, a golden crown shimmering in his blue hair. He looks stunning, making Jimmy feel almost as though he’s underdressed.

Scott makes eye contact with Joey, an emotion Jimmy doesn’t understand flashes in Scott’s eyes as he walks over to Jimmy.

“Lizzie, I think I’ve made him angry.” Jimmy mumbles, breaking eye contact with Scott. 

“He’s your land boy, you work it out.” Lizzie says. “I need to go find my land boy.”

“Scott isn’t mine, Lizzie - Don’t leave me!” Jimmy protests, but it’s already too late, the queen of the ocean has left Jimmy to whatever fate Scott has planned for him.

Hopefully Lizzie will hold a nice funeral for him.

“You look nice.” Scott says softly, barely audible over the music.

“Oh, thank you.” Jimmy says, the back of his neck reddening. “You clearly outclass everyone here.”

“You really think so?” Scott asks, his face red. Poor Scott, he mustn’t get complimented often. 

“I know so.” Jimmy smiles, though the man can’t see it.

“Could I ask you to dance?” Scott asks, offering Jimmy his hand. Jimmy blinks in surprise, looking into Scott’s eyes in shock. The elven man’s eyes glitter in the lantern light, light and full of something Jimmy can’t quite place.

Even so, Jimmy puts his hand into Scott’s, and lets the man pull him into a dance.

Scott’s hand rests on Jimmy’s waist, and Jimmy puts his hand on Scott’s shoulder, letting him lead. Scott, thankfully, doesn’t mention when Jimmy steps on his feet, the king just mumbling instructions to Jimmy as he leads them.

“You teach dances like this often?” Jimmy asks breathlessly, trying to concentrate on not stepping on Scott’s feet.

“No, I don’t. I don’t think I’m even teaching you this correctly.” Scott admits. “I’m not even sure this is a real dance.”

“This feels pretty real to me.” Jimmy says, his heart picking up. “Kind of familiar, like I’ve done it in a dream, but real?”

“This is dreamlike?” Scott asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Jimmy admits. “Do you think we could spin with this dance.”

“If you want to, then of course.” Scott says, spinning Jimmy around.

Jimmy giggles slightly, breathless as his hand falls onto Scott’s shoulder again. Scott leads them again, and Jimmy lets his feet go without thinking. It’s like the dance he had in his nightmare, with his shadow husband. Scott’s hand on his waist is comforting, a promise of safety, in a party of peace.

The music slows and they stop, breathless and hearts hammering. Jimmy takes his hand off of Scott’s shoulder, pulling away from his dance partner.

“I’m going to get a drink, you coming?” Jimmy offers. Maybe this could end with a new ally, a new friend.

“I need some air.” Scott admits, rubbing the back of his neck as though he’s nervous. “I’ll see you later?”

“See you soon.” Jimmy promises, smiling brightly at the elf.

The other man just nods, walking out of the room and up the stairs. Jimmy moves off of the dancefloor, avoiding bumping into people as he makes his way to the table, picking a prawn off of the table to eat while he looks for something to drink.

“Enjoying the food?” Pearl asks, startling Jimmy.

“It’s nice.” Jimmy says. “I love the prawns.”

“Thank you! I was hoping to get something from every empire.” Pearl says. “I’m glad I got something for you and Lizzie. Your empires were the hardest.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I could have helped.” Jimmy apologises.

“Don’t be. Be more sorry that you didn’t tell Katherine about you and Scott. She’s rather excited that the prospect of you two being together.”

“What?” Jimmy asks, blinking.

“Oh, if it’s supposed to be a secret I’ll tell her to leave you two alone.” Pearl says, laughing. “Next time, though, don’t dance in a public ball like that. Rumours will spread!”

Jimmy stands confused, staring at the space that Pearl used to be in. He must be tired, why would anyone start a rumour about him and Scott? There’s nothing to talk about. They’re potentially friends, barely aquantinces. 

“I should find Scott.” Jimmy mumbles, walking in a daze towards the stairs. Scott must be on the balcony, right?

“Jimmy!” Pixl says, relief on his face. “You need to come with me. We’re leaving.”

“What?” Jimmy asks incredulously. “Why are we leaving?”

“Emergency at Lizzie’s empire, she’s asked that we both attend.” Pixl says, grabbing Jimmy’s hand and dragging him out. 

“What’s the emergency?” Jimmy asks, waving goodbye to Pearl and Gem at the door. The two of them share relieved looks as Pixl drags Jimmy further away.

Lizzie and Joel stand in the middle of the courtyard, holding a spare pair of elytra that they put of Jimmy’s shoulders as Pixl straps himself into his own elytra. Jimmy straps the elytra on, wriggling uncomfortably.

“What’s going on?”

“Gem told us to go home.” Lizzie says. “Sausage and Fwip are up to no good, apparently.” 

“Pixl said that there was an emergency at your empire?”

“I lied.” Pixl says. “Don’t look at me like that, you wouldn’t have come otherwise!”

“Look as funny as this is we have to go.” Joel says, pushing Jimmy and Pixl slightly.

The group takes off, flying into the sky. Guilt eats at Jimmy the further they fly away, and he turns back to look at the hall. Did anyone warn Scott that Sausage and Fwip were up to something?

He broke his promise to Scott.

----

“You look cute in the bunker.” The shadow says, sitting on the roof. Jimmy can just barely see out of it, and he knows that his husband wouldn’t be able to see at all.

“Shouldn’t you be preparing for battle?” Jimmy asks. “You don’t want to die.”

“I’m on my green life. I’m fine.” His husband says. “You’re the one we’ve got to worry about. Burning Dogwarts banner, really poppy?”

“I don’t want to see you sacrificed on any altar, petal.” Jimmy responds easily. “I’ll be fine, the bunker is safe and there’s an emergency exit.”

“Promise me you’ll come home.” His husband asks, standing up. 

“For you? Of course.” Jimmy responds. “In sickness and health. You’ll always have me by your side.”

Jimmy watches as the shadow people fight. It’s dreamlike, unreal to him. Swords clash and fires spread across a desert stained in blood. The dogwarts banner flies and burns and his allies are so outnumber it won’t ever be fair.

And a scream tears from his throat as his husband is shot.

His body dissipates, he’s not dead. Not permanently, but something is wrong. This world mustn’t have respawn, not the infinite respawn that it’s supposed to. Green life. First life. 

The love of his life is dead. He will come back, but he’s dead now.

“We want that banner!” A man yells, an enemy. There isn’t any winning this. He needs to get to him, to his husband, to his petal.

He’s shot through the throat on the ladder to the escape route.

Jimmy's screams echo through his empire. Not for the first time does he long for the embrace of someone who isn't even real

[trashboatprince]

The anniversary for the Bioshock au was just this weekend (actually on the official anniversary for the game Bioshock, what a coincidence!), and my friends and I decided to do something for it today!

While they have chosen to redraw some of their original art for the au, I had planned to rewrite something I had written ages ago, but then an idea came to me!

So, you guys get a new fic!

Warning: mentioned experiments, mentioned body horror, sad thoughts

As always, Henry belongs to @inkspottie, Ross belongs to @thedobermutt, and Delta is my Henry! 

On with the fic!

--

Henry, Ross, and Delta made their way around the old lounge bar that they had broken into, with Henry looking for supplies, Ross scouting the area for any splicers or searchers hidden about, and Delta was securing the door, making sure no one got in.

Once the coast was clear and the door secured, they could finally relax, which Delta was so thankful for. They had gotten into another big fight and he needed to check to see if his suit was still in good order. He had only just changed into this one earlier in the the day since his other one was damaged beyond repair, he had to make sure this one was still good to go.

Trudging over with tired feet, he sat himself down on the floor by the large floor-to-ceiling windows, the glow of the city in the ocean illuminating the room for them. “Bendy, a little help?” He asked the Li’l Devil, who had been helping Henry look about. 

Bendy perked up and ran over, knowing exactly what to do. He started to help with unhooking the large tanks on Delta’s back as the Big Daddy worked on the suit. He needed to get out of it to make sure his examination was thorough.

Ross looked up from where he was sitting on a sofa, raising an eyebrow at the other man. “Delta, what are you doing?”

“Checkin’ my suit.” He replied, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. He hissed, shuddering when Bendy got the tanks disconnected from not only his suit but from the ports in his back. Never a pleasant feeling, uhg.

“Are you... getting out of it?” Henry frowned, walking over, his arms carrying the items he had picked up before depositing them on a table nearby. 

“Kinda have to.” Delta replied as he worked to get himself out of the suit. “Not for too long, not like when I was panickin’ earlier when I was, ya know, sorta dyin’.”

It had been an emergency, he needed a new suit, new tanks, he was sadly stuck with these things to live, due to what had happened to his body.

He stepped out of his suit, luckily wearing pants and a shirt under it, he wasn’t one for being indecent even in his own gear, but he knew the other two could see his arms, his neck.

They saw it earlier, when they helped him get into his new suit, all the scars and damage done by the Big Daddy project. He didn’t think much of it at the time, but Delta felt a little self-conscious now.

Oh, they had seen what INK did to the splicers, the damaged skin and minds, but Delta’s had all been controlled. He had been tested on, his face left normal for reasons he had never been told, but the rest of him was a mess.

And with his healing abilities due to the splicing projects, his wounds healed quickly, but still scarred, over and over again.

“Is...” Henry started, but shut his mouth.

“You’re fine to ask.” Delta replied, sitting down, letting Bendy hook the tanks back into his back, he held back a yelp at the sensation. He picked up one of the sleeves of his suit, looking it over, avoiding eye contact.

Henry coughed, before speaking again. “Is it... painful? The scars?”

“Stopped bein’ that way years ago, kid.” Delta replied, frowning at the cut he found, asking for the sewing kit he knew Bendy had stored in his hammerspace. 

“Is it from battles?” Ross asked. “Or from what Joey had done to you?”

“Both, mostly the latter.” The tallest of the trio sighed as he got to work on repairing the cut. “Nasty effects, splicin’, INK. I used to be a scrawny thing, ya know? About as skinny as you, Henry. But that wasn’t for long, had to be built like a damn tank for this work!”

He kept his eyes on his task. “I was normal for maybe a week? Just health exams, Norman told me, nothin’ serious, had to make sure everythin’ was in workin’ order. Then they started injectin’ INK. It was fine at first, felt healthy, even stronger and faster, then... it got worse.”

He still remembered when the effects finally kicked in, the horrible pain and heat of his body changing, too fast, too slow, broken bones and damaged skin. Delta looked at his hands, they were trembling, but he pushed on. “It sucked, I don’t know how long it was gonna keep goin’ for, I thought that it would destroy me before anythin’ could really happen. And then...”

He looked at Bendy, who was happily looking out the windows, watching the fish go by. “And then they had me meet Bendy and it was worth it, cause I had a purpose cause of all that.”

“It still wasn’t right.” Ross spoke, a deep look of concern was painted on his face. “You shouldn’t have been forced into this, you didn’t even have a choice.”

“None of us did.” Delta sighed. “Henry didn’t, I didn’t, and you sure as hell didn’t either, Ross. Drew did whatever he wanted to us because everyone here’s his plaything.”

He finished the repair and moved to look for more.

“It’s still not right.” Henry frowned, reaching for a candy bar on the table. “But when we get you up to the surface, you won’t have to worry about this stuff anymore.”

Delta looked up, then looked towards the windows. His eyes drifted to the tanks behind him, and he shook his head. “Guys, I know you want me to come with you when we’re done here, but... I’m not made for the surface anymore, I can’t even go an hour with my tanks off, I need the INK and PAINT. I need my suit.”

Ross shook his head, standing up. He walked over to Delta, looking down at the man still seated on the floor. “Delta, you have to have some faith in us, in Norman. We promised you that we’d get you to the surface, no matter what. Why do you doubt us?”

The Big Daddy blinked, then looked ashamed, rubbing at his bare arms. “I’m... not made for the surface, for a normal life. I dunno what Norman can do to help me survive up there, but what became of me... that’s impossible to change, I can’t go up there with these scars, I’ll look like a monster or somethin’.”

The older man sighed softly. “Look, I know it seems bad, but you’ll have us to help you, to be there for you. Yeah, some people will stare, but that’s on them, not you.”

“We’ll be there with you every step of the way.” Henry smiled a little. “And Norman said he’ll do whatever he can to help you survive without your tanks! You’ll be as normal as you can be! And besides, I’m not all that normal myself, we’re clones, and we’ve got...” He flicked his wrist, bolts of lightening came from his palm, before vanishing. 

“Yeah, after all of this, we’re in a similar boat with you, even if it isn’t exactly cosmetic.” Ross chuckled.

Delta looked at the two men he called his friends, a small smile coming to him. “You guys are so weird, but... alright, I mean, I dunno about this, but I would like to finally leave this place, there’s a sun I wanna see.”

“That’s the spirit, Delta.” The smallest of the trio smiled a bit more. “Now, no more of this, let’s just take the break we really need. I am not built for running around like this.”

“I hear that.” Ross sighed, sitting back down.

The Big Daddy looked at them once more, still smiling as he went back to work on checking for damage to his suit, listening to the others talk to each other. He’ll hold them to this, he wasn’t sure how confident he was that he’d get to leave Rapture, but it didn’t hurt to have a little hope. 

[smaidjor]

i know they're losing (chapter 2)

Hello everyone! Since the last chapter received such a positive response (well, if screaming could be called a positive response), I've decided to not make you all wait long for the second chapter of this fic. Also, I have no self-control. Anyways!

Once again obligatory disclaimer this is characters not people, don't ship real people, etc.

Chapter Title: over snow and winter's morn

Chapter Wordcount: 3203

Content warnings: more discussion of death, also quite a bit of Scott being a bit of a dick. He's going through it, besties.

AO3 Link

Chapter 1

Actual fic under the cut:

Jimmy doesn’t get a chance to return the ring any time in the next few weeks. Scott must have told Katherine that he visited, since she doesn’t come to bother him about it, and every time Jimmy tries to go to Rivendell, something gets in the way. Demon attacks, urgent business in his empire, once even Scott’s own guards turning him away. Apparently Scott is a ‘busy elf’. Jimmy doesn’t doubt he is, but he also doesn’t doubt that Scott’s actively trying to avoid him. Scott is a petty man, ultimately, and Jimmy knows this, used to love it like he loved all his husband’s flaws, all his imperfections that were perfect to Jimmy. Now, though, it just hurts that Scott’s turning that pettiness on him.

Finally, something changes. Jimmy gets an invitation (in person!) from one of his closest allies; Lizzie wants to hold a ball, and she wants as many people as possible to come. It will be fancy and formal, with dancing and politics and all the things Jimmy’s just a bit awkward with, but he is an extrovert at heart, and well...Scott will be there, as Lizzie warns him.

“I know you and him don’t really get on, so I get if you don’t want to come. I really hope you will, though, it’s going to be a fun night!”

Jimmy nods. “I’ll be there! I need to talk to Scott anyways, actually, got to return this ring to him. It’s important, I think.”

“Gotcha! See you there,” Lizzie says with a broad smile. Jimmy appreciates that she doesn’t ask any questions about the ring, especially given that it’s the one thing holding together his emotional state right now.

And that’s how he finds himself frantically searching for something fancy enough to wear to a formal ball, wishing he’d had the forethought to plan for this a bit better. Scott would have planned, he thinks, would have had an outfit laid out for each of them and the time it would take them to get there exactly calculated.

He shakes that thought off, settling for a green tunic with copper accents. It’s not the most elegant thing in the world, especially when you take into account the slime that’s dripped onto it, but it’ll have to do. It’s representative of his empire for sure, and the copper is a nod to his ally. It’s good enough, and that’s what matters, Jimmy thinks.

Lizzie greets him when he enters the ballroom, smiling widely with her new fiance by her side. “Jimmy! Glad you could make it!”

“Yeah, yeah, I did make it! Here I am!” The smile he gives her is genuine; he likes Lizzie. She's fierce and kind all at once, the best kind of ally.

Joel offers him a brief wave, which Jimmy happily returns before Lizzie drags him off to chat.

“So, heard from a little birdy you’ve actually been visiting Scott,” Lizzie says, a grin like the cat that got the bird on her face.

“As a favor to Katherine,” Jimmy quickly clarifies.

She nods. “She did say that, yes. She also said she heard about the visit from Scott himself.”

Jimmy hates himself a little for being pathetic enough to ask “What did- did she say what he said? Was he talking about me?”

“She didn’t say exactly, but he seemed ‘shaken up’, apparently...and a little wistful.”

“Oh, no. Lizzie, no.”

“Say, why did you have his ring?” She’s still grinning, a little more evil this time.

“It’s a long story!” Jimmy blurts, and flees. How’s he supposed to say ‘oh we were married on a server where we thought we were going to permanently die and then we respawned here and now Scott’s refusing to talk to me because the grief over my last death is slowly killing him’ tactfully? There’s just no way to do it! Nice one, Jimmy, now she thinks you’re in love with him or something, he thinks ruefully. Not that he isn’t- wasn’t. Wasn’t. Scott’s made it very clear that he and Jimmy are through.

Still, even with his depressing thoughts, the ball is pretty okay. No one’s gotten assassinated, there haven’t been any demonic appearances, Lizzie’s already showing off her engagement ring, and he’s pretty sure Joey’s going off about how hot demons are. It’s a decent party, by empires standards.

Scott makes an appearance some twenty minutes or so later, stepping into the ballroom with typical elven grace. He’s not a very elven elf, as he once told Jimmy, short and sarcastic with a love for mortals, but he still looks twice as elegant as everyone else in the ballroom. The shakiness in his step from a few weeks ago seems entirely gone, and for a minute, Jimmy’s heart leaps in hope. Maybe he’s getting better?

Well, only one way to find out. Jimmy swallows the complicated knot of emotion in his chest as he crosses the ballroom, coming to an ungraceful stop in front of Scott. Up close, the elf looks worryingly pale, and there are dark circles under his eyes. He looks like a strong breeze might sweep him away.

“Lord Codfather,” Scott greets.

“Elvenking,” Jimmy returns, dipping his head a little. Look, Scott, he can be formal too, alright? “Care for a dance?”

Scott stares for a long moment before giving a single nod. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind.” He takes Jimmy’s outstretched hand in his own gloved one, letting Jimmy put a hand on his waist as they start into a simple waltz.

Now, Jimmy is a terrible dancer, and he’s not too proud to admit it. He steps on Scott’s feet, gets off-rhythm once or twice, and nearly crashes them straight into Lizzie and Joel. But despite their current status as enemies(ex-spouses?), Scott says nothing about it. He’s silent, in fact, seemingly caught up in the music. There’s something wistful about his expression, something soft and gentle hidden under his icy facade. If Jimmy tries hard enough, he can almost pretend that the two of them are back in 3rd life, dancing under the stars, and Scott is looking at him like he’s the most precious thing in the world.

The illusion is shattered, however, by how heavily Scott is leaning on him by the end of the dance. He’s unsteady on his feet, grip like iron on Jimmy’s hand and shoulder. Though Jimmy can’t feel his hands though the gloves, when he brushes against Scott’s arm, it’s still a little too cold to be entirely right.

The music slows and then pauses before the next song, and they head for the edge of the dance floor.

“Thank you for the dance, Codfather,” Scott says. He steps away, face falling back into the emotionless facade so quickly it’s hard to be sure the tender expression of a moment before wasn’t a dream.

That’s the final straw for Jimmy’s fragile self-control. “Can we please stop acting like we don’t know each other?”

“What else do you want from me?” Scott snaps back.

“I- something! Anything! Just acknowledge that I exist, won’t you?”

“Acknowledging you exist doesn’t mean I’m still in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” Jimmy says, a little softer, a little bitter. “I know, trust me. I just want you to stop- to stop hurting yourself to try and avoid pain!”

“That’s not what I’m do-”

“Then what are you doing? Enlighten me, o wise elf!” They’ve kept their voices low enough, but people nearby are still starting to stare at them. Jimmy can’t bring himself to care. “You told me it would destroy you to lose me, but you’re losing me now by pushing me away!”

Scott’s expression is pained for a moment before he covers it with a glare. “I’m trying to do what’s best for the both of us, Jimmy.”

“No you’re-”

“I am an elf, and I cannot love a mortal. Humans are quick flames, burning and changing quickly. You’ll fall in love again, and you’ll forget me. There will be a mortal who loves you- I’m sure there are many already.”

“But I don’t want a mortal,” Jimmy protests. “I want you.”

“You can’t have me.”

“But why? Why, Scott?” His voice breaks, embarrassingly enough. “You said you loved me, you promised me all the time we’d be able to- to carve out, to steal from the universe.”

“I can’t give you that!” Scott snaps. “You’ll live sixty more years, maybe, a fraction of my life, a blink of an eye to an elf, and I can’t even give you that long! Not when I have to be the elvenking before anything else. Nothing I can do will ever be enough for you.”

“Enough for me? For ME? All I want is for you not to die to your own dumb plan and acknowledge my existance once in a while!”

“And all I want is for you to realize I can’t love you again!”

“Why can’t you care about me?”

“Why can’t you move on?” Scott counters.

“You’re not moving on, you’re just trying to forget!” Jimmy shouts.

In the silence that follows, he realizes that most of the ballroom must have heard the end of their little lovers’ quarrel. In fact, Lizzie’s somehow appeared next to him, laying a hand on his arm.

“Is everything alright, boys?” Her tight smile says that they will most certainly get kicked out of the ball if they continue this, and Jimmy can’t blame her.

“My apologies, Ocean Queen,” Scott says, switching to a formal tone with ease that Jimmy envies. He dips his head in respect, and only Jimmy sees how his hands tremble. “Everything is alright, but I am afraid I will have to leave early.”

She smiles again, dangerous this time. “No need to worry, Lord Smajor. Do try to avoid picking fights with my allies, next time, though.”

“It won’t happen again,” he promises, and sweeps away.

“Coward!” Jimmy shouts after him, anger making him bold. “You’re a coward, Scott!”

“Stop it,” Lizzie scolds. “You’ve already made quite the scene, and I did essentially kick him out. I’m not sure how much further you really want to carry it.”

“He is though, Lizzie, he’s a coward! Doesn’t want to face me because that means facing- well, facing everything that’s happened!”

“What do you mean, everything that’s happened?” Lizzie turns to the gathered audience of people who have been watching the spat, shooing them off as best as possible. They slowly disperse, thank goodness. “You and he are enemies, right?”

Jimmy almost winces. “It’s a bit- it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“I can see that. Jimmy, that looked like a messy breakup!”

“It, um, well, it was. Sort of.”

“Oh, Jimmy.” Lizzie’s giving him a sympathetic look, which she follows up with a tight hug. “Next time, how about we don’t invite him?”

He nods against her shoulder, rage leaving him as quickly as it came. Instead, he just feels...tired. “Thanks, Lizzie.”

“Of course. We look after each other, yeah?’

“Yeah.”

Jimmy leaves the ball exhausted, still reeling from everything that happened. The few lingering bits of anger are what gets him home, a bitter taste in his mouth from the bitter words he spat. Coward! You’re a coward, Scott! He refuses to regret them.

Scott’s ring nearly ends up in the swamp again, but Jimmy’s cooled down enough by the time he gets back that he can’t bear to throw it away. Instead, it goes in a box which he tucks into his old storage chest, somewhere he’ll never have to see it again. Scott can go to hell if he wants the ring back after all that.

-

For a while, Jimmy’s plan to tuck the ring and never think about Scott again seems to be working. Lizzie visits a few times to check on him, but she never asks specifically about Scott, and Jimmy doesn’t say anything about him. He receives radio silence from Rivendell, and he tells himself that it’s good, that he doesn’t want to hear from Scott.

So yes, his plan is working, up until he gets a knock on his door and opens it to find Scott there.

The elf looks terrible, frankly, almost worse than he did at the ball. His hair, which is usually so nicely done, is a mess, cyan strands falling all across his face. His clothes are wrinkled and have swamp mud on them, his eyes have dark circles as violent as bruises, and he’s swaying a tiny bit. In short, he looks like he didn’t sleep for a week, chugged coffee, and fought god in a denny’s parking lot.

Jimmy thinks he’s kinda hot.

No, he doesn’t. Fake news, brain.

“Hi,” Scott says.

“Scott? What- why are you here?” Jimmy’s voice rises, in shock or outrage even he doesn’t know.

“I came to apologize.” Though he looks like he’s going to pass out at any second, Scott’s voice is steady. “I was scared- I am scared. I’m terrified to lose you again. But I shouldn’t have pushed you away and hurt you.”

“No, you shouldn’t have!” Jimmy snaps, but there’s little real rage behind it.

“I know. I- uh- fuck.” Scott’s hands are shaking as he pulls out a little box from some hidden pocket. “I brought a gift as an apology.”

Jimmy takes it, curious despite himself, and finds that what’s inside is a silver bracelet with little crystals embedded in it. Flowers are the predominant design; he recognizes roses, hyacinths, irises, anemone, and poppies. On the underside, there’s elven lettering, though Jimmy has no clue what it says. The whole thing is a little clumsy, not quite as professionally made as the ring Scott once gave him, and Jimmy looks up at Scott. “Did you make this yourself?”

“Mhm. I did my best, but it’s not as nice as I’d like.”

“It’s pretty,” Jimmy says.

Scott’s shoulders slump with relief. “It’s spelled, too. Protection, good fortune, that sort of thing.”

“Do the flowers mean something?”

“They do.”

Jimmy doesn’t press for details.

“I-” Scott starts again, a tremble in his voice that wasn’t there before. “I’m sorry, Jimmy, I really am. I won’t ask you to forgive me, but I needed to apologize before my time ran out.”

“Is it that- that dire?”

The barest nod. “This is what I chose to do with it. Making that, coming here. You deserved an apology.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence, Jimmy staring down at the bracelet.

Scott breaks it. “It wouldn’t be fair of me to ask you to love me. I can’t promise you eternity. I can’t promise you happiness. I can’t promise you that I won’t have to be the elvenking first and a husband second. But I am yours still, if you’ll have me.”

A part of Jimmy is very tempted to throw both Scott’s gift and his love back in his face. He can’t bring himself to stay mad, though, not when Scott’s looking at him like that, with so much raw vulnerability. So much devotion, like Jimmy’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen. It would be so, so easy to break that last strand of fragile hope in his expression; he’s offering up his heart on a silver platter, ready to shatter. Jimmy could- should- yell at him, reject his gift, tell him that he’s ruined any chance he has at Jimmy’s love.

Jimmy kisses him instead. It’s messy and it’s sudden and he very nearly drops Scott’s gift in the swamp in his haste to tangle his hands in Scott’s hair and press their lips together, but it’s real.

The little startled noise Scott makes gets cut off by Jimmy’s mouth on his. Scott’s lips are chapped and taste a little of glowberries, but Jimmy doesn’t care. He’s going to kiss his damn husband, something he thought he was never going to get to do again.

When they finally have to separate, Scott’s breathing hard, cheeks flushed. It’s a good look on him, Jimmy thinks, much more alive than his pale, rigid expression from before.

“So, I’ll take that as you want to stay married?” Scott’s voice is wry, collected, but his blush ruins the smooth effect.

“Of course I do! You absolute idiot!”

“Just checking.”

Jimmy kisses him again, just to shut him up. Scott goes with it easily, leaning into Jimmy’s embrace without complaint.

They pull apart quicker this time, and Jimmy holds the bracelet out. “Can you help me put this on?”

Scott nods. His hands are cold against the skin of Jimmy’s wrist when he fastens the clasp, but Jimmy grabs them and holds them in his own warm ones until they don’t feel quite so much like ice. It’s something. It’s a beginning.

“Come in and catch up with me?” Jimmy offers.

Scott nods again, and he doesn’t let go of Jimmy’s hand when Jimmy turns to go inside.

They talk about a lot of things. Empires, 3rd life, nightmares. Pufferfish, cake, flowers. They talk about the trials and tribulations of ruling; really, Jimmy complains that people keep attacking him and Scott nods in sympathy.

Eventually, though, the sun is starting to set.

“I need to get home,” Scott says. “You need sleep, not to stay up all night talking.” He goes to get up, and Jimmy immediately lunges, catching his sleeve.

“Don’t go! Please,” he adds, feeling his face flush at how desperate he sounds.

“Jimmy, darling, we both need to sleep.”

“We can sleep! I just….nevermind.”

“No, no.” Scott kneels back down, peering at him like Jimmy’s a puzzle that needs solving. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Jimmy.”

“I don’t want to be alone!” Jimmy blurts, and immediately flushes again. “It’s just, I’ve been alone for a long time, and there’s this demon thing that keeps showing up, and I’ve only just got you back, I’m not ready to let you go, and-”

“Hold on. What was that about a demon?”

“There’s this demon creature that I keep seeing, and it’s really messing with me,” he manages. “It sounds like you, sometimes, but all distorted, and I can’t handle it! You know me, I’m not brave or smart or anything, I’m just Jimmy!”

Scott’s frowning, worry wrinkling his brow. “Alright. How about you come to Rivendell for the night, then? I can protect us both easier there.”

Jimmy nods, feeling especially pitiful as Scott helps him to his feet. “Thank you.”

“Always. Do you still have the ring I gave you?”

“I do, I just….give me a moment to remember where I put it.”

“Good. It’s important.” Scott doesn’t elaborate, and Jimmy is too distracted looking for the ring to ask what he means.

Scott’s offer of protection feels flimsier when he has to lean on Jimmy as they travel back to Rivendell, but even then, it’s impossible to feel quite so afraid now that Jimmy isn’t alone anymore. And it’s even harder to fear anything that could happen when he’s safe in a warm bed, his head tucked against his husband’s chest. They’ll be okay, Jimmy thinks. They’ve been given another chance, and this time they’re going to get it right.

[femmeharringrove]

so niki has two dads. so what?

if you say anything about it, she'll kick you. and if principal kane wants to meet with her fathers, then so be it.

that only happens twice - first with steve, who walks in with sunglasses high on his face, a cup of coffee in hand, and a stance that makes the shorter man in front of him admittedly uncomfortable. niki is almost gleeful as she watches her dad stare blankly at the principal, then tug his glasses down to eye him more critically. not a word is spoken, there isn't a sound outside of the gentle swishing caused by niki's feet kicking back and forth. when the silence is broken, it's by steve, voice bored and uncaring.

"what's the problem, mister kane?" principal kane looks a little intimidated by the man in front of him - as he should be, niki knows.

"uh - well, uh, you see, nikita got in another fight again with a student, and -"

his words come to a halt when steve's hand comes up to stop them, the other hand perched comfortably on his hip. his head turns to face his daughter, and while his face is deadly serious she sees the sparkle in his eye and knows she's in no trouble here.

"nikita," he drawls, "did you get into a fight today?"

"yeah," she replies, without an ounce of remorse.

"do you want to tell me why?" he pushes, and she does, so she tells him.

"joey carter said that nobody wants to be my friend because i have two dads and that's wrong." joey is full of shit, as uncle dustin likes to say. she has plenty of friends, and all her friends love her papa and her dad. because steve always makes them the best snacks and takes them on all sorts of trips and takes the time to get to know the kids. and billy lets them do his makeup and carries them around the house while they squeal in delight. their parents might have been unsure at first, but steve and billy have made friends with most of niki's friends' parents. but the carters are gross people and their son is no exception as far as the eight-year-old is concerned.

"thank you," steve hums, before turning back to principal kane. the hand he'd held up to stop his talking lowers again and he places it on his other hip. "principal kane, where is joey?"

"why, he's in class," the ruddy man replies. steve's eyebrow arches in the way it does when papa says something dumb, or when niki tries hiding something from him.

"and why is that?" he presses. "are we just allowing students to verbally harass other students now?" principal kane gulps.

"well, you know how children are -"

"i do," steve cuts in sharply. "i'm raising one. do you know how long it took me to teach her not to say fuck because it's not a nice word?" nikita stifles a giggle at the offended look that crosses her principal's face. "picked it up from her aunt," steve continues. "kids just soak these things up, you know." steve pauses to sip on his coffee, hand raising to stop the man from speaking, and then he continues. "joey's parents are bigots, i know that very well, and i'm not surprised joey's picked up on it. but if nikita here said fuck in class, you'd reprimand her for foul language, yes?" he peers through his sunglasses while principal kane nods vigorously.

"of course we would." steve nods his approval.

"i take comfort in that." the glasses come off after that, and steve leans forward to meet the shorter man's gaze. "now, if one of your students says hateful comments towards another, would you do the same thing, mister kane?" niki grins at the way her principal shifts uncomfortably.

"I - I suppose, yes," he stammers.

"you suppose," steve repeats, mean and critical. "well, in that case, if you suppose, i suggest you get to calling the carters. nikita and i are going to leave you to it." principal kane tries speaking up, but steve's already got his sunglasses back on and he holds his hand out to the smaller brunette in the room. "let's go, honey. say goodbye to principal kane." nikita hops off the chair and waves a cheery goodbye before happily walking out with her hand in her dad's.

later that night, he's reading her a story and she snuggles against his side, enjoying the gentle brush of his fingers through her curly hair, and she can't help herself.

"hey, dad?" steve stops reading, sets the book down to look down at her.

"yes, baby?" and now nikita huffs, because she doesn't know what she wants to ask. they've talked about this before, both about gender and sex, and sexuality. she knows some people think something's wrong with her dads, but she doesn't hear it often. it shakes her a little when she does.

"why are people so mean?" she settles on. steve's face falters a little.

because there's no easy answer to that, is there? he and billy have been raising her for eight years, they've been together for five of those years and have only been open about it for three. they've been talking about getting married, about having one more kid together, about moving and settling somewhere new, but he knows no matter where they go or what they do there are always going to be instances like this, people like the carters and this kane asshole. and as much as he aches to protect his baby from that, he can't.

so he and billy have taught her the importance of kindness and understanding and respect. and at just eight, she has such an understanding of those concepts. she's absolutely brilliant, and beautiful, and more precious than steve will ever be able to put into words. he studies the face that peers up at him, brushes her bangs from her face, and holds her close so he can rest his chin on her head with a sigh.

"well, kita, sometimes people are scared," he tries. "remember when papa gave you seaweed that one time we went to california?" he doesn't have to be looking to know her entire face scrunches up in disgust.

"yeah, but that was gross," she points out, making the same face steve makes when he eats something he doesn't like, trying to get the taste off her tongue. steve laughs softly.

"to you and me, yeah, but not to papa. he grew up out there so he was already used to it, but for you and me it's scary. green stuff from the sea? icky, right?" nikita nods against his chest. "well, some people haven't seen gay people before, not like papa and i and our kid living like other families. and that's new and scary. and sometimes, when people get scared, they act a certain way." steve tries thinking for another example. "like when papa brought that beetle inside and scared me, remember that?"

nikita will never forget the way her dad scrambled over the couch trying to escape the bug. she'd laughed until the beetle took flight because that really was scary. the pair had screamed around the house and steve had absolutely refused all of billy's apologies the rest of the night, huffing and pouting while nikita giggled at the sight.

"you hit him," she recalls. it hadn't been hard, just a couple of swats on the shoulder while scolding the blonde man. steve nods.

"yeah, which was mean," he agrees. "but sometimes, people get mean when they're scared. obviously, something like having two dads or liking another guy or gal isn't the same as bringing in a beetle, it's much bigger than that. and when people get mean about the bigger things, it's more than just a little hit on the shoulder."

she gets that too, as much as she doesn't like it.

nikita sighs and wraps her little arms tight around steve's waist.

"i don't want people to be mean to you," she decides, and steve knows she loves him, of course he knows, but it warms his heart to hear a reminder of it.

"i know," he sighs. "but we can't make other people be kind. we can only be kind ourselves, yeah?" the girl nods and smiles up at her father.

"you're the most kindest" she announces, and then niki rests her head against his chest again. he doesn't start reading right away, but his voice sounds a little wobbly to her when he does.

the second time principal kane has to meet with one of her dads, it's over a father's day event in class and professor kane specifically requests billy instead of steve. he shows up a little greasy from work, looks from the principal to a mother and her son, to his teary-eyed little girl, and knows there's about to be trouble.

nikita doesn't know if it's hurt tears or angry tears, but misses hartwell's words sting and she can't get them out of her head. her son jeremy's words had hurt even more, and so a now ten-year-old nikita had punched him right in the face.

"something has to be done, mister hargrove," the principal says. amy hartwell scoffs.

"something indeed. we'll be pressing charges, that's what will be done." billy fixes her with a glare.

"you're gonna press charges against a kid?" he questions incredulously. "i know my girl, she doesn't do that unless he messed up big time."

"my son would never do any -" the woman begins, but nikita has no time for this. she doesn't want to sit here and listen to them act like jeremy is innocent.

"he said i can't bring my dad to school because i don't have one!" she snaps, and billy almost snaps too.

"well, it's true!" jeremy shoots back from the safety of his mother's side. "tell her, mom." now amy looks usure, and principal kane shifts uncomfortably as billy's cold glare flashes to the woman.

"yeah, tell her," he repeats, low and threatening. "better yet, tell me." amy shifts her weight and steps back.

"well, everyone in town knows her mother got pregnant in some indianapolis bar," she has the audacity to say. "the girl's never met her real father." nikita opens her mouth ready to protest and hurl insults, but billy speaks first.

"nikita doesn't have a mother," he growls. "her father gave birth to her, and i raised her. we're her dads, and she can have either of us at this little party, got it?"

"it's not healthy to feed her lies like that," amy argues, "you're poisoning her mind, it's dangerous -"

"- no," niki's dad cuts in. "what's dangerous is saying all of that within three feet of me. what's fucking dangerous is teaching your kid how to be as fucking disgusting as you."

"mister hargrove!" principal kane cuts in sharply. "i will not have you threatening misses hartwell like that!" billy turns on the man with an aggression nikita has never seen from her pa, a wild gleam in his glare and his lips set in a snarl. the principal shrinks back.

"what a time to grow a spine," he bites. "you've let her walk all over my boyfriend and i, i'll say whatever the hell i want." principal kane looks a little scared, backs down pretty quickly. but billy is on a roll. "i know how this works. you think steve and i don't know what assholes like you say behind our backs? huh? well, we do. and it's fucking ridiculous. steve has more balls than you-" an accusatory finger gets thrown in principal kane's face - "and more class than anyone in this stupid hick town is capable of. and you know what? i get it, we can't stop you from being ignorant dicks. but what i can do, and what i will do, is step in when someone brings this shit to my little girl. do you get that?" billy's yelling stops and both adults look at him wide-eyed with shock. jeremy looks scared, and niki thinks he should be. with a decisive nod, billy ends the conversation, he scoops niki up after that and she can feel him shaking as she hides in the safety of the crook of his neck. "you wanna sue us? sue us. we'll return the goddamn favor, trust me." and he stomps out to his car and just stands out there for a little while, clinging to nikita until she stops sniffling.

they don't really talk on the way home, and when they both enter the house steve looks a little confused.

"aren't you both supposed to be places?" he asks, but the little tease in his expression fades into worry as he gets a better look at them. billy leans in and kisses niki's forehead chaste and soft.

"go get changed," he mutters, which she knows is actually code for when he doesn't want her listening to their conversation. she obliges and disappears up the stairs she's known her whole life, right up to her room where she gets more comfortable clothes. she hears steve yell, "she what?" at some point, but mostly the pair are quiet. when nikita does tiptoe down the stairs eventually, they're in the kitchen, her papa's face buried against her dad's neck while they whisper to each other. it looks like billy's shaking again, but she can't tell.

steve catches her after a minute and kisses the top of billy's head before calling her over and holding her tight. "i'm sorry you had to deal with that stuff today," he offers, mumbled partially into her her hair. she remembers the things he said about mean people and clutches onto him a little tighter.

that night, aunt max and uncle dustin come by for dinner and take her out for ice cream, and when she comes home steve gives her a bubble bath with extra bubbles. she doesn't love letting him bathe her all the time, but sometimes it's fun, especially when he does extra bubbles. he finishes and dries her off and takes his time with her hair, and before long she's just about ready for bed.

her parents work her through the nightly routine, and they tuck her in to bed together like they do every night one of them isn't working late. but after steve plants his pattern of kisses on her face and leaves, billy stays. he sits on the edge of her bed and looks a little unsure, which is strange because as far as niki knows, he always knows what to do.

"honey," he starts. "you know what they said today isn't true, right?" nikita nods easily.

"yeah. dad's my dad and you're my pops." nikita knows, to some degree, how she came to be. she knows steve didn't have her with billy like that. but never once has she ever had to doubt her family, and no one's dared do it to her face. not before today.

"okay, good." billy nods, reaching a hand out and rubbing her shoulder. "people like misses hartwell and her kid, they don't - they don't get it. and i'm so sorry that you had to hear it, and that you had to hear me yell like that."

"and say all those words dad tells you not to?" she adds quietly. billy breathes out a laugh.

"and hear me say all those words dad tells me not to say," he agrees. it gets a laugh out of nikita, much to billy's relief, and he leans forward to hold her by both her shoulders now. "i'm serious, babycakes. i don't care what people like that say. you're my baby, you hear me? always mine."

"always yours," she echoes, leaning forward and throwing her arms around him in a hug. billy plants as many kisses as he can manage on her head and face, before laying her back down and adjusting her covers.

"i love you, green bean," he tells her, and she murmurs in kind before watching him move to the door. he pauses when he gets there, then turns to her sheepishly.

"hey, about the bad words," he hums. "i won't say anything about it to dad if you won't. deal?" nikita makes a thoughtful face.

"can i have ice cream and a kitten?" he snorts at that.

"you have several kittens, baby. but ice cream is doable."

and when amy hartwell knocks on the door the next afternoon talking about billy's offensive language, he only gets a claim of innocence from his boyfriend and a confused look from his daughter who doesn't recall a single bad word from the meeting. steve looks back at the woman and misses the grin nikita shares with billy as she chomps on a bite of ice cream.