#having an instinctive panic response was normal because well. your brain feels all your blood sucking out and thinks FUUUCK IM BLEEDING OUT
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had to donate blood earlier today because my blood cell count was too high at my last pp appt to get my t renewed and god. why didnt anyone warn me about your arm going all hot but also cold and not hurting but definitely feeling insanely weird and uncomfortable and Bad. LITERALLY NO ONE TOLD ME SO I WASNT READY AT ALL AND I STARTED MONKEY BRAIN FREAKING OUT
#like yes i anticipated it feeling funny and uncomfy but THAT. SUUUUCCKEEEEDD.#i was only able to go like halfway before i started squirming around too much and when the guy said i could stop whenever i IMMEDIATELY#went I WANNA STOP even though i shouldnt have urrghhhhhh i was just in genuine panic mode which is a little embarassing.#my roommate was there with me to help calm me down and after the fact told me that the guy taking my blood apparently said that#having an instinctive panic response was normal because well. your brain feels all your blood sucking out and thinks FUUUCK IM BLEEDING OUT#(roommate had to tell me because i was like. writhing and whining and trying not to black out so i wasnt hearing anything LOL)#i have the lab followup appt at pp ooonnnn friday where theyll do another finger poke and i swear to god. if my blood cell count isnt low#enough for them to be able to refill my T. im gonna freeeaaaaakkkkkk#cause im already getting reeaaalll low on T so this is already cutting it close but if they have to turn me away again im fuuugggeeedddddd#and the worst part is that im probably gonna have to start regularly donating no matter what anyway =_=#on one hand yes its bound to get easier the more i do it...... thats the case with the little tiny vial blood draws ive been having to do..#but hooooly freak guys. i really wasnt prepared at all for how intense it started feeling WHICH IS DRAMATIC I KNOOOOWWWW#it wasnt helped by them apparently using a much bigger needle so i FELT it POP in and the guy went âwow i really had to force it in thereâ#or something so i was immediately off to a bad start LOL#AAAAAANYWAYS. SIGH. being on T is awesome but of course im one of the unlucky ones who starts getting way too much blood about it#so now im doomed to be stuck with needles all the time forever#mumbling
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The Albino (Striker x male reader) PT5
Note: contains mentions of rape
After marking Striker during your last rendezvous together he had to go on a job for over two weeks which for your newly ignited hormones seemed like an eternity. You knew when an imp marked another as their mate it would cause a hormonal change, but you didnât anticipate it to be this powerful, it wasnât even about wanting to fuck it was like a new instinct had been downloaded into your brainâŚthe instinct to protect. Luckily Strikerâs job went faster then expected leading to him being back in about a week and the two of you decided it was perhaps a good idea to get out of your cramped apartment for a little while. A club in lust known as the slick slut was just what was needed for a little breather or so youâd thought, upon entering the club with Striker all you could focus on was sticking close to him and keeping others away from him. It wasnât unusual for Striker to attract the attention of other imps or demons when the two of you would go out after all he was hot, charming and intelligent normally you ignored the advances because Striker did as well but that was before you marked him.
 Striker still ignored the advances of the others even hissing a bit now when one would attempt to shoot their shot, but you were fighting with everything inside you to not rip them apart. You shoved the feelings into the pit of your stomach so as not to show your possessiveness for fear of driving Striker off, after all his persona was no strings, no tethers if someone were to get too clingy, heâd just leave. You eventually offered to go get some drinks for the two of you, Striker remained in his seat sipping on the beer bottle in his hand while you got up. Striker waited for you to come back when a hand was placed on his shoulder causing the pale imp to turn slightly, throwing a look over his said shoulder at the figure there. A well dressed clearly noble demon was smirking arrogantly down at Striker instantly eliciting a disgusted noise from him as he tried to go back to his beer only to be grabbed by the wrist.
 âHey!â Striker barked instantly turning around and standing from his stool
 âCome on now, how would you like to get paid a lot of money to spend an evening with such an important demon like myself?â The demon chided as Striker yanked his wrist free.
 âFuck off! Iâm not interested you fucking blue blood!â Striker snarled
 âNames Bal and letâs be frank here little imp you definitely canât afford to turn down my generous offer,â Bal taunted still getting closer to Striker.
 âActually, I can. I wonât say it again, Fuck the hell off!â Striker all but spat as his tail began to rattle subconsciously at his aggravation.
 âDonât you fucking talk to me like that! Learn your place imp!â  Bal retorted
âWhy donât you learn yours!â Striker growled in response followed by a swift punch to the demonâs face. Striker swiftly regretted his action as the demon lord let out a grunting growl as he snatched up Strikerâs wrist to flip him around, bending him over the bar while yanking the pale impâs hands behind his back. Bal pressed his entire body against Strikerâs easily slipping a leg between the impâs own, his free hand beginning to fondle Strikerâs ass before slinking up to his sides.
 âYou will learn to bow to your betters,â Bal whispered into Strikerâs ear
 âGet the fuck off me!â Striker snarled with a slight tint of panic rising in his tone.
 âNot till Iâm good and finished with you! By the time Iâm done youâll be begging for it!â Bal retorted
 Striker was full out panicking now as unwanted memories started filling his head, a different demonâŚa marquee but the same situation except he was much younger. Hands going where he didnât want them too, no one helping him despite his desperate pleas for assistance and the cackling of a fucking blue blood. Striker struggled desperately to get free of Balâs grasp only to have his body pressed harder to the bar top, the demonâs slithering hand dipping underneath him to caress up the inside of his thigh. More memories of a dark room, chains rattling, smell of sweat mixed with cum as pain wracked his bodyâŚno, not again! You had gotten the drinks from down the bar thus were returning to where youâd left Striker only to hear him pleading for someone to stop doing something. You dropped the drinks upon seeing what was going on, Striker pinned to the bar top with a demon hovering over him with his hands in places that set your dominant instincts a blaze.
 You waisted no time charging at the demon currently pinning Striker to the bar top decking him in the face followed by kicking him in the side eliciting the desired affect of him releasing your mate. Growling fiercely at the higher demon you grabbed Striker to pull him behind you as the demon lay on the ground yelping in pain.
 âYou fucking little shit! How dare you?â Bal exclaimed
 âIâll rip your throat out if you touch him again!â You snarled letting all the pent-up dominant energy from the entire night flow freely.
 âYouâll pay for this!â Bal barked before scrambling off
 âHumph, coward,â You huffed out before turning to face Striker with a concerned look. Striker stood with his head bowed, hat covering his face, but you could still see what looked like a flush of embarrassment across his features. You were about to ask if he was okay only to have Striker cut off your train of thought.
 âLetâs get out of here,â Striker insisted in a low tone
 You agreed promptly following Striker back to your apartment except now your dominant instincts were in full go. You attempted to keep them in check, but it was failing fast coming up behind Striker after the two of you entered the apartment.
 âWe should ease some of your tension?â You seductively asked, running a hand over Strikerâs back
 âIâm not in the mood (Y/N),â Striker hissed pushing your hand away
 âWell, will you at least tell me what happened?â You persisted unconsciously caressing a hand up his side.
 âI fuckinâ said stop! Iâm not in the mood! Leave me alone!â Striker yelled at you full bore, tail rattling as he bared his fangs at you. This action made you regain your senses immediately shoving the dominant instincts youâd been giving into down while looking at Striker in shocked surprise.
 Striker stomped into your living room where you could see him mentally debate leaving unfortunately at this hour getting a motel would be difficult, apparently, he came to that same conclusion because he ultimately just sat down on the couch. Tossing his hat to the side then running clawed hands over his face and through his hair Striker just sat there seeming to contemplate what was going on inside his head. You respected Strikerâs request to be left alone turning to sit at the kitchen table which was blocked by the divider wall to the living room, pulling out your phone to entertain yourself yet your own brain was racing with thoughts of how youâd just fucked this whole thing up. Hours passed with the two of you sitting mostly in silence occasionally you heard Striker shift on the couch but ultimately you two sat in silence.
 Striker eventually emerged from the living room looking rough, hair a mess with his jacket missing, vest hanging open and his button down untucked from his jeans. You looked up instantly furrowing your brow in concern, yet you remained silent not wanting to agitate Striker again. Silently Striker came to sit in the other seat at the small table making certain to avoid eye contact with you at all costs.
 âIâmâŚsorry, you had to see me like that,â Striker finally spoke after taking a deep breath
 âYou donât have to apologize. DoâŚdo you want to talk about it?â You asked gently
 âI figured Ya would ask,â Striker sighed out
 âYouâŚsaid not againâŚâ You mentioned as Striker sharply looked further away
 âGuess I canât avoid it any longerâŚwhen I was younger, I came to a bar in the lust ring, I was just having a drink like tonight when some blue blood came up to me. Unlike tonight though no one helped meâŚhe had his way with me on the bar top then knocked me unconscious. I woke up in some dungeon type room in his palace, chained like an animal. HeâŚused meâŚI was nothing but his plaything.â Striker explained
 âShitâŚIâŚhad no idea,â You admitted quietly
 âNo one does, I eventually killed the bastard and escaped. I pushed everything to the back of my mindâŚuntil tonight,â Striker admitted
 âIt was too similarâŚâ You trailed off
 âYeahâŚexcept you were there,â Striker finally looked up to make eye contact with you
 âI couldnât just let him do that to youâŚâ You trailed off again
 âI asked Ya to mark meâŚI just didnât expect it to attract such attention,â Striker continued
 âGuess weâll both have to get used toâŚwhateverâŚthis isâŚâ You smiled warmly before caressing a hand over Strikerâs cheek.
 âYeahâŚâ Striker trailed off now as he leaned closer
 You closed the gap between the two of you to press a gentle kiss to Strikerâs lips, the two of you parted for a moment only to press back into the kiss. It wasnât heated or desperate instead the kiss was incredibly intimate. When you two parted you tapped foreheads together with one of your hands caressing over Strikerâs shoulder as he cupped your jawline. You stood from the table first gently tugging on Strikerâs hand in a bid to get him to follow you which he happily accepted, getting up to walk behind you into the bedroom.
#Helluva boss#helluva boss striker#Helluva boss fanfiction#Helluva boss fanfic#Helluva boss Blitzo#Helluva boss moxxie#Helluva boss millie#fanfiction#fanfics#reader insert#Male reader insert#Striker x male reader#romance#angst#adventure#action#hurt/comfort#rape#smut
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SEVENTEEN- REACTION: THEIR S/O GETS INJURED (PART 2)
(PART ONE)
part two of @honeyylin âs request!!! sorry it took so long honey ă
ă
also check out honeyâs acc!!! theyâve recently started writing fic so give em a visit!! <3
todayâs photo theme is green green green green green green green green green green
(I didnât proofread this I will when itâs not 5 am lol)
tw: food, injury
SEOKMIN
⢠*insert terrified screaming*
⢠yikes. this man. this poor fellow.
⢠heâs so worried about you!!!
⢠like. youâre fine. itâs not a big deal you just wonât be able to walk without crutches for a while
⢠but this man PHYSICALLY refuses to go to work
⢠Jihoon even comes to your apartment to beat Seokminâs ass gently request he come to work cuz they kind of need him
⢠but no, because ây/n needs me more!!â
⢠please youâre fine. you can walk and you work from home already. youâll live. Youâve been injured before.
⢠this goes in one ear and out the other!
⢠he will stay home and baby you and peek in your room every ten minutes like âhey are you ok???? do you need anything???â
⢠itâs kind of endearing
⢠the calls you keep getting from Seungcheol and Jihoon are not though because SOMEONE keeps forgetting to âcall in sickâ to work!!
⢠itâs just part of the whole shebang. he calms down eventually and gets over the anxiety of you getting even more hurt or struggling and goes back to the others
⢠but you bet your ass when he comes home at night youâre not going anywhere and heâs gonna baby you until he deems you all better
⢠also he definitely just likes babying you because he doesnât declare you better until a week after the doctor does, âjust to be safe!!!â
⢠he loves you very much and if anything weâre to happen to the love of his life heâd like. Evaporate on the spot
⢠10/10 man right here
MINGYU
⢠ok so we know how clumsy this man is
⢠he technically knows how to take care of injuries
⢠also the injury was sort of maybe his fault ):
⢠he tripped over a damn rock and made you stumble too, falling and scraping up your leg
⢠and this poor man is apologizing faster than he raps
⢠youâre not badly hurt, and when the pain wears off youâre laughing
⢠and Mingyuâs all pouty lol
⢠and though you assure him that youâre ok and everyone trips up sometimes, he just wants to make it up to you
⢠he is also one of the other mfs who would make soup. him and Josh r gonna open a soup kitchen s2g
⢠but heâs also super cheesy and you wake up from a nap and see that Mingyuâs gone out and gotten flowers and made some nice food and made a little mini date in ur apartment
⢠and he just feels so bad !!!! please help this man
⢠once you joke that maybe you should get injured more often so you guys have more dates like this he finally really calms down
⢠but like I said, heâd know how to treat any injury
⢠maybe not well, and Iâm sure this manâs instinctive response is âI will put a bandaid on it and move on with my lifeâ but how focused he is when he is just wiping off dirt from your arm or leg or whatever and making you sit still while he gauzes it up is just really sweet he cares so much
MINGHAO
⢠this man does not know anything.
⢠I mean donât get me wrong heâs incredibly smart and emotionally intelligent but also. thereâs nothing in this manâs brain except for dastardly ideas
⢠and you nearly breaking your arm is not exactly a dastardly idea
⢠so he kinda just shuts down
⢠he wants to help !!! So bad !!!! but he canât do anything !!!
⢠like heâs genuinely such a kind dude and always willing to help even if he teases about it and just always there
⢠and this is the one thing he canât help with!!!
⢠so frustrated ):
⢠so he spends his time with you by lurking with a pout, ready for any request you had
⢠he definitely looks like a lost puppy ă
ă
⢠maybe you act a little more helpless than usual so he can feel better about himself. just maybe
⢠seeing him brighten when you ask him to get the pasta from the top shelf or help with the laundry is completely worth getting hurt for!!
⢠eventually he cheers up and goes back to his normal and teasing ways
⢠and once you heal up heâs so glad he can hug you super tight again (:<
SEUNGKWAN
⢠Ah, Seungkwan.
⢠be prepared for lots of passive-aggressive scolding
⢠I mean when it first happens you can see the panic in this poor manâs eyes
⢠ok well technically you texted him about it but his reply was violently misspelled and he showed up at your house within 15 minutes
⢠tbh you should be scolding him because he definitely was speeding to get home that fast
⢠but he was scolding you!!!
⢠like wtf youâre already feeling shitty and then Seungkwan comes over and is acting like your mom
⢠but this man is emotionally mature!!!
⢠he notices how frustrated and snippy your replies get and calms down, hugging you tightly where you sit on the bathroom counter as he cleans you up
⢠complains about getting blood on his shirt tho the bastard
⢠but he definitely hangs out with you for the rest of the day and you catch up and eat ice cream while you lie around on the floor and itâs just. aju nice. (lol)
⢠he does his best to keep your mind off of any pain or struggling, and we all know this man is a master of distraction so it goes very well
⢠heâs a very home-y person and you always feel safe with him (:
VERNON
⢠his literal response is âwell thatâs not goodâ
⢠you fuckin call him like âhey sol Iâm in urgent care kinda like. broke my armâ and heâs just like âYeah thatâs a problemâ
⢠thank you Hansol âSherlockâ Chwe
⢠he is just. out of his element please this man will just stare at your cast or whatever with wide eyes like âyo you broke your armâ yes Vernon
⢠heâs kinda just fascinated ngl
⢠he lets you tell your story with wide eyes, beaming proudly when you said you didnât cry
⢠heâs like âyeah thatâs my partner (:< so cool and badassâ
⢠heâs just very silly about it and doesnât treat you any differently
⢠which is nice because you kinda hate people bringing attention to it cuz itâs annoying as shit already ):<
⢠and heâs already so helpful and willing to do chores or whatever so you donât have to worry about carrying things or washing dishes or whatever cuz Vernonâs got it!!!
⢠plus itâs adorable how literally every night heâs just like âitâs so cool how you have a castâ like itâs the dumbest thing ever but he finds it so entertaining. like not even the fact you got hurt just like âholy shit like. itâs cement they basically cement your arm in place you have cement on your arm y/n you could knock someone out with thatâ
⢠heâs a cutie lol
CHAN
⢠ok contrary to popular belief I think he would handle it very well!!
⢠donât get me wrong this man is PANICKING under the surface but like. heâs so calm about it on the outside??? hello????
⢠you call him during practice like âhey so I kinda got hurt Iâm ok tho, at the doctor rnâ and heâs just like âyes ok are you ok?!â
⢠little dude lol
⢠and even though you are, in fact, completely fine, heâs gotta worry smh itâs his job!!
⢠he comes home and listens to the story as he helps you change the bandages with the most gentle hands ))))):
⢠and being near you definitely helps calm him down
⢠heâs back to teasing and being goofy in no time
⢠this man also definitely knows some medical shit idk what makes me think that but he knows how to like. deal with an injury.
⢠he definitely is very medically aware idk man I feel like he listens to doctor speak cuz itâs cool and is like âoh yeah go ice that you donât want it cramping upâ whenever one of the other guys complains about something minor lol
⢠heâs very caring ): I love he sm (:
⢠he can be a little rat but he knows when to stop and be an ally and what an excellent ally he is!!!!!!!!!
Iâm so sorry Iâve never done an after note like this before but seeing all the green and plants makes me think of this damn tweet and I canât stop laughinh
âhe has pollen allergyâ Iâm sobbing please
#x reader#kpop x reader#svt#svt x reader#seventeen#svt scenarios#svt reactions#dokeyom#Seokmin#mingyu#minghao#the8#seungkwan#Vernon#hansol#Dino#lee Chan
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Daniela x Maiden ----Haunted
Commission for the wonderful @uni--tea that I received on Ko-Fi. Thank you so much for all the support. I have no words âŁ
Normally, you take pride in your self-control.
Both physically and mentally, you have a solid grip on you at any given moment. It is a trait that has helped you throughout numerous situations in your life so far and you're certain it will only continue to do so in the future.
But.
At the same time, the fear of losing this hallmark âyour greatest strengthâ is always there, right under your skin. It hides its ugly shadow behind your confidence's light. Never gone. Never lessened.
Because you know just how easy it is for that control to shatter. You know it takes next to nothing to bring to the forefront everything you took years suppressing, locking in the deepest part of your psyche.
Perhaps it is one of the reasons why you dread living in the castle. Stimuli that can set you off lies everywhere. A maiden's cry. A whimper. Pools of blood.
Then it all goes to hell for you.
That is how it happens again; with a girl's scream down the corridor.
Your body automatically rushes towards the sound âa questionable response, you're awareâ yet by the time you get there it is already too late.
She has made the mistake of opening a door you all know not to and stepped into the courtyard. Perhaps prompted by an outside sound into the foolish action, or perhaps seeking her freedom at any cost. All she finds is her death, in the form of a flying creature's claws sunk deep through her flesh.
You see a fountain of crimson as the creature attempts to fly away with the corpse, talons digging further in for a better grip, as if through butter. Your first instinct is to leap forward to save her. Save what you can. Whatever is left.
Your body has other ideas. You find that you freeze, instead, unable to will yourself even a single step forward. Your hands are shaking, the entire world is tilting before your very eyes. Gravity magnifies; you drop to your knees, weak, useless, while the shriek of the retreating monstrosity blares through your brain.
Your heart, you feel, is one pound away from breaking in your chest.
The castle fades away into your old home. You are trapped in a fragile, twelve-year-old body again, watching the man your parents healed rip away at them with a kitchen knife. You see the spray of red at every downward slash of the blade. Then the door is kicked down, the police is rushing in, there is so much noiseâ
Yet rather than a door slamming open, you hear a soft click. A casual slide of bars, followed by a familiar, soft voice;
âOh, no. Another one's kicked the bucket. Mother will not be pleased.â A deep huff comes. âYou'll tell her I had nothing to do with it if she asks, won't you, my Knight?â
Even in your panic attack, you recognize Daniela's nickname for you. Except this time, it rings so false to your ears the sensation is almost acidic.
Knights are supposed to be beacons of bravery, but here you are, swallowed whole by your terrors. You are not courageous, no fighter and certainly no hero. Not where it really matters. You are nothing.
Nothing.
âKnight, I'm talking to you.â An impatient, cool finger hooks itself under your chin and forces you to look forward. The redhead has crouched down to your level, you realize, eyeing you closely, a tad irritated at your lack of response.
Shallow as it may be, it helps your case that her face is pretty as a fairytale. That her eyes glint amber instead of crazed blue. That there is no blood on her face or her clothes, this time. It helps that she's no man âeven if she's a hundred times more dangerous than the memory of the killer that haunts you.
Your muscles gradually begin to unlock. Oxygen still feels lackluster, but at least you are no longer suffocating.
âYou've gone pale.â she observes, leaning a tad closer.
The finger used to trap your chin ends up caressing your jawline, in a touch gentler than anything you would have ever expected from her. The chill of her skin isâ soothing.
Your eyes close.
Daniela does not stop there, though. She gradually slides closer, practically climbing onto your thighs while her head tucks in the crook of your neck. You don't know what she's doing or why, but...
Her hand has moved slightly down, to lazily trace shapes on your neck. She smells so good, flesh out of a bath, no doubt, and she feels criminally nice in your arms. You are only human; you will take comfort where you can.
âIt's unbelievably cute that you were so worried about me you froze up like that, my Knight!â she exclaims, ending your confusion there.
You want to facepalm, but that may result in death so you only let out a faint sigh, instead. In all honesty, you should have suspected what was going through her head would not be anything remotely based on reality.
That being said... Daniela Dimitrescu, of all people âmutants, vampires, whatever category she falls underâ did pull you out of a panic attack.
Why burst her bubble? you muse as you carefully wrap your arms around her slender waist, a non-verbal âthank youâ for the help she will never be aware she gave you.
She seems to like the gesture.
A tad too much, because her grip tightens to a point that makes your very bones protest.
âUgh, Daniela... I can't...â
âAw, you can't bear to lose me?â she giggles by your ear and the sound really shouldn't be that endearing when she's crushing you.
âWell, Iââ How do you explain that is not the case without signing your own death sentence?
Daniela, by some miracle of the universe, pulls back, keeping her dainty hands idle on your shoulders. She looks straight into your eyes, her own glowing like stars.
âTell me more~â
#daniela dimitrescu#Daniela Dimitrescu x oc#fanfiction#resident evil village#resident evil 8#creative writing#commission#bela dimitrescu#cassandra dimitrescu#sneak peek of 'the Knight'#in this house we stan one chaotic redheaded gremlin
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So, anyways, I saw something @liulyam had posted for Spardaverse a while back I DON'T KNOW HOW I MISSED THEIR WONDERFUL ART FORGIVE ME! Anyways, I saw specifically THIS piece of art, and it sent the brain juices into overdrive....
So, the same thing plays out everyday. Nero gets off the school bus and runs in, backpack flying, and tells his uncle excitedly about his day at school, before racing up the stairs to tell his dad the same thing, in the same adorably animated manner. Unfortunately, Vergil doesnât respond the same way as Dante, sitting still, not even acknowledging that the boy is talking to him. Initially, Nero doesnât mind, understanding his recently rescued father has been through a lot, and needs time and patience to recover. But as the months pass by, Dante notices that his nephew doesnât run up the front steps as eagerly, his descriptions of school become shorter, paler. And most worryingly of all, Nero spends less and less time with Vergil, preferring to peek his head in the manâs room, sigh, and slowly make his way to his own room, closing the door sullenly.
âWhatâs going on Nero?â Dante takes the plunge and asks him one day, before the boy trudges up the stairs. âYou havenât been that rambunctious ball of energy lately.â
Nero kicks the worn hardwood floor. âItâs dad⌠I know you told me I need to be patient,â his face scrunches up at the word, itâs a thing heâs never been able to truly do. Heâs definitely a Sparda boy. âBut he just keeps ignoring me. He wonât talk, wonât even look at me. Itâs like I donât even exist! Maybe...maybe he doesnât want me to exist-â
âHey now!â Dante needs to nip this train of thought in the bud. He knows first hand where it can lead to. Had he not found Nero nearly nine years ago, while wandering the world, drinking up every barâs entire inventory in a vain attempt to fill a void in his chest, who knows where he would have ended up? âYour dad...well, even without the stuff heâs been through, he was never much of a talker. Always preferred to have his actions speak for him.â âBut thatâs the thing, Uncle Dante!â Nero blurts out, close to tears. âHe DOESNâT DO ANYTHING!!! He doesnât care!â And with that, Nero bolts up the stairs, past Vergilâs room, not even checking up on him, and slams his bedroom door with such force, Evaâs portrait wobbles on the desk and tips over. Dante sighs, sets his mom back up, and slowly makes his way up the stairs. Not to Neroâs room; Dante knows better than to provoke that tiger cub when heâs in an ornery mood. Itâs time to talk to his dad.
Vergil, or whatâs left of him, is sitting in an oversized chair, the only one that fits his giant frame, facing the window, the only one in the place with a view. If heâs heard the ruckus (and Dante knows he has), he makes no indication that it affects him.
âVerg,â he calls out, âI know it's been rough, I know I piled on a lot of shit on you, the whole thing about having a kid and everything these past nine years. Iâm not expecting you to just snap back to normal, and start insulting me like in the good old days, butâŚâ Danteâs not good at this sort of thing. Heâd rather Royal Guard his emotional turmoil. It used to be with alcohol, but now itâs with a cheery smile. âThe kid needs a sign that youâre still there, youâre still fighting. I know you are, hell, youâre the one that helped me take down that bastard Mundus on Mallet Island. But thatâs the thing, Neroâs only heard things that youâve done, not seen them. You need to show him yourself, otherwiseâŚâ Vergil makes no motion, and even Dante, stubborn as he is, knows itâs fruitless to continue much more, âyouâre gonna lose him too.â And then Dante heads back downstairs, to see if he can whip up a snack to bribe his nephew to come out of his lair. Strange, he swears he hears the rustle of fabric from Vergilâs room, as if his brother had just moved.
--
Nero sits at Danteâs desk, working on his math homework. Itâs his least favourite thing, fractions. Uncle Dante is a whiz at them, and usually would be able to help him, but heâs gone out on an âReally quick, wonât be more than a half hourâ errand run. Itâs been nearly two hours, and the only other adult here is his dad⌠so Nero is practically by himself.
Suddenly, the hairs on the back of Neroâs neck prick up, and he hears scrabbling at the front door. Heâs still not allowed to go out with Uncle Dante or Auntie Lady on their hunts, but he knows what a demon feels like, especially when there are a lot of them. ESPECIALLY when theyâre really powerful Instinctively, he grabs a chair, and wedges it underneath the door knob, and looks around in a panic. Heâs never had to deal with a demon attack by himself before. He remembers his uncle has a case of weapons that he was told to NEVER touch beside the jukebox, but Nero figures that he can say sorry to his uncle later. He smashes the lock with a billiard ball, and yanks open the lid. Heâs disappointed. He thought there would be a treasure trove of swords and guns, but all there are two swords, one red and one blue. But he doesnât have much of a choice, and the whine of protesting wood ends with a thunderous CRASH, and demons pour through. âFIND THE HERETIC GOD SLAYER!â One says, before turning in Neroâs direction. Without much warning, it shrieks as it launches at him with razor sharp obsidian claws.
Nero might be little, but his uncle has trained him well. Whipping the two blades around, they connect the monsterâs waist in a pincer move, and like a pair of scissors, bisect it in a shower of blood and ash. Nero swears he hears a voice (or is it two voices?) approvingly say, âImpressive!â but doesnât have a chance to savour his very first demon kill as another demon comes at him, knocking him over. The reddish gold blade clatters away on the floor, way out of reach, not that it matters. Neroâs pinned to the ground by a skeletal foot, as the demon lifts a blade to impale him. He squeezes his eyes shut, preparing for the end.
The final blow never comes. Instead, he hears shriek, and the pressure on his chest instantly subsides. He opens his eyes, to see it stagger back, its decapitated head clattering to the floor. Its brethren likewise are either dead or dying, their high pitched screams shattering the glass in the jukebox.
Neroâs first thought is that his Uncle has finally come home, Danteâs come to save me! But whatâs odd is that thereâs no sound of Danteâs beloved Ebony and Ivory. And last he checked, his uncle never was able to shoot out blue ghostly blades that now impale most of the horde. But it doesnât matter, because his uncle is here to save the day! That is, until he yelps as heâs quickly, but not roughly picked up and held as whoever holds him spirits him out of the building, the blue blade still clutched in his hand. Nero begins to panic, but hears a voice, almost like a croak, as if the vocal cords had been in disuse for yearsâŚ
Nero
And even though the voice is harsh sounding, it's one of the most comforting things Neroâs ever heard.
--
Of course that half hour errand run would turn out to be three hours. But when he was promised a free pizza for clearing out that demon nest on the West side, Dante couldnât say no. Besides, heâd pick up some freshly baked chocolate chip cookies on the way home as a way of apologising to Nero. The kid might be cross with him, but heâd forgive him the moment he smelled those chewy biscuits. Dante might even let him have more than half of the package.
So when he gets home to find his front door smashed open, his office trashed, and worst of all his jukebox shattered-wait no, worst of all, his nephew missing, all thoughts of pizza and cookies vanish from his mind as he rushes in, guns drawn. Thereâs no sign of life, but the black splatters of demonic ichor painting the walls shows that some real bad mojo went down here. The strangest thing though, is Agni, a weapon Dante was definitely sure he had under lock and key, laying there on the ground, alone.
âAlright, time to spill your gutsâ he yanks the blade up so that heâs at eye level with the pommel, âWhat the hell happened here?â Agni makes the same response as Vergil. Which means silence.
âI swear toâŚâ he pulls out ivory, and presses the muzzle into the (more troubled than usual looking face), âYouâre gonna tell me what went down, or weâre gonna see how many bullets I can jam into your ugly mug.â âYou told us to remain silent.â He rolls his eyes. âYeah, consider that rule temporarily relaxed.â âThere was an attack.â Agni starts, its distorted voice unusually agitated, âThe little one fought with great valour, but eventually even he was overwhelmed.â Danteâs blood goes cold. âBut then a great bulk of a demon came out and slaughtered the attacking filth, and spirited the boy away, alongwith my brother.â
âRudraâs still with Nero?â Thatâs odd, if they were trying to capture the kid, theyâd disarm him first.
âYes, they are not far, I think theyâve stopped moving.â
âAlright,â Dante makes his way out of the disfigured wood, âletâs go find the kid and your bro...and if heâs alright, maybe Iâll reconsider giving back your talking privileges.â âOh, that would be wonderful, will you allow us to leave the dark box? Itâs been so long since weâve fought, we crave batt- â
âI said IF, and I wonât guarantee anything if you keep jabbering on and on.â
--
Angi directs the demon hunter to a dark secluded alleyway, a few blocks from Devil May Cry. One hand on its hilt ready for attack, the other fingering the trigger of Ivory, he cautiously makes his way past the recently overturned garbage cans, to a shadow alcove, where a shadow crouches. Beside it is Rudra, glowing faintly, itâs turquoise blue light providing enough illumination for Dante to make out what has happened. Thereâs Nero, peacefully slumbering away, apparently unharmed, not even his shirt is torn. And holding him gently, stroking his downy white hair with a giant hand...is Vergil⌠And for once, even though he is still staring straight ahead, thereâs a different look on his face, a sense of contentment.
Huh Dante thinks to himself as he holsters the weapons, I was right, actions DO speak louder than words.
#Devil May Cry#Nelo Dadgelo#Dante#Vergil#Nero#canon divergence#I didn't want to connect this to their post via reblog#because that should stand alone in its own perfection#my writing
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Poe Dameron x Reader ~ Take Mine
Summary || On your first mission as Commander of Blue Squadron, you take Poeâs X-wing. Unfortunately, it doesnât go as planned.Â
Warnings || Some injuries and a bit of blood? I didnât go super in detail, though
Words || 2.2k
A/N || This is my first time writing for Poe and Iâm so scared and I tried to be accurate and if itâs not I apologize but if I spent another minute staring at this draft I will scream. Special thanks to @poestardust and @buckysbeloved because yâall were both super fucking supportive and without that this might not have been posted! I am now officially adding Poe to the people I write for and while my requests for full fics are closed, I am more than willing to do little blurbs/hcâs or hear any and all of yâalls soft/angsty thoughts for that wonderful Flyboy. My status of requests gives more insight into all of this :)
gif credit
You groaned, shaking your head as you racked your brain for a way to get out of this. Your X-wing was supposed to be fixed a week ago, a solid few days before your mission was set to start. But, alas, Red Squadron had a bit of a rough mission coming off Hoth and needed repairs more rapidly than you, so your starfighter was put on the low priority list.Â
Normally, this wouldnât be a problem. You could be patient. Normally. But you had just been promoted to Commander of Blue Squadron and your first mission left in two standard hours.Â
You walked through the door of your room, trying to find a solution but continuing to come up empty.Â
âSweetheart?â Your head perked up at Poeâs voice, the concern clear in his words.Â
âWhat happened, why arenât you with the rest of the Squadron getting ready?âÂ
âMy starfighter isnât ready.â You said, trying to make sense of the words as they came out.
Poe blinked. âStill?âÂ
âYeah, the other repairs are taking longer than usual and itâs not ready and it wonât be ready and I have to lead my team on a supply drop and try to not get everyone killed and I donât even have my kriffing X-wing!â Your voice shook, the lack of control making you anxious as you paced back and forth through your quarters.Â
Poeâs hands found their way to your shoulders, steadying you. âLook at me, okay? Breathe for a second,â Poe gave you a slight smile as you nodded, closing your eyes as you took a deep breath. âYeah, just like that. Itâs gonna be just fine, weâll figure it out!âÂ
Now, the panic creeped back into your expression. âHow?!âÂ
Poe thought for a second, mentally grasping at straws before his eyes widened in realization. âTake mine!â
âWhat?!â
âTake my X-wing! Itâs all ready to go and Black Squadron isnât set to go on our next mission for another two weeks! Youâll be back well before then, itâll work out just fine!âÂ
âBut- I canât just take your X-wing, Poe!â
âYes you can! Come on, I donât really see what other options you have! Just take it, please? Itâll bring you good luck.âÂ
You sighed, realizing he was right. âOkay, okay, fine!â
Poe smiled, leaning in to peck you on the lips. âNow, go! You donât want to be late, do you, Commander?âÂ
âOh, no, definitely not, Commander! That would set a horrible example for my team!â You quipped back before leaning in once more. âI love you.â You whispered.Â
âI love you too.â He smiled back. âSeriously!â He said with a laugh, âGo!âÂ
âGoing!â You called over your shoulder as you ran to the hanger.Â
A week and two days later, that conversation was the only thing on your mind. You were desperately steering your- no, Poeâs- X-wing away from the fleet of First Order ships flying straight for your Squadron. Somehow, theyâd learned of your plans for the supply drop and decided to swing by. How thoughtful of them.Â
âOkay, everyone. Just hang tight, shoot if youâve got a clear shot but no oneâs trying to be a hero, alright? First priority is getting home safe.â You said through the open channel.
 You smiled as you heard your team voice their approval, ending their messages with a âCommanderâ here and there. Right now, all you were doing was hoping you were deserving enough of that title to get everyone back in one piece.Â
Looking to make sure everyone was in line, you felt your heart drop as you counted the starfighters. Everyone was there, minus one. Where was Snap? Craning your neck, you swore as you saw him caught on the right side, boxed in by two First Order TIE fighters.Â
You quickly opened a private communication channel. âTallie?â
âYes, Commander L/N?â
âMake sure everyone stays ahead of the TIE fighters, okay? Keep moving forward.â
âY/N what are you talking about?â
You sighed, consciously working to keep your voice even and calm. âSnapâs stuck and Iâm not leaving him. Iâll be fine, just a little bit behind you. Just⌠get them home.âÂ
âBut-â
âPlease.âÂ
You felt guilty for being short with her, but you had to do it. If you didnât, sheâd know how kriffing terrified you were.Â
After waiting a moment, she sighed. âOkay. Be safe, Commander.â
âSame to you.â You replied, shutting off the channel. You forced the tears back in your eyes and refused to let your thoughts dwell any more on your Squadron or that beautiful, dark haired pilot you knew was waiting for you.Â
You turned Poeâs X-wing and sent a prayer to the Maker as you made a bee-line for one of the two TIE fighters and fired, shooting one directly. You laughed, almost giddy at how spot-on the hit was.Â
âCommander?â Snapâs voice filtered through the communication system.Â
âHang on, Iâve almost got it.â You bit your lip in concentration as you aimed for the second fighter. But right as you pressed fire, so did they. Your eyes widened as you quickly swerved. Luckily, the blast didnât hit the front of the starfighter, or else youâd be good as dead right now. Unluckily, you gasped in horror as your ship began plummeting, realizing they had hit your engine.Â
You turned your head back, praying that this wasnât in vain. You let out a breath, realizing Snap was now free and the other TIE was demolished, thanks to your aim. If youâre going to go down, at least you brought two First Order fighters with you.Â
As your X-wing came closer and closer to the ground, you screwed your eyes shut. Against your will, you remembered that at least your last conversation with him had been a good one. Your heart broke, realizing heâd probably find a way to blame himself for this, forever. That youâd never get married, never have the chance to settle down after the war ends. That youâd never again feel his lips against yours, never again experience the warmth of his arms or the comfort of his embrace. How could life work like this, how could it simply-
Your thoughts were cut off as your starfighter crashed to the ground, leaving you in darkness.Â
-------
âWhat do you mean, their starfighter went down?!â
Leia sighed, subtly but firmly gesturing for everyone else to clear the briefing room. âBlue Squadronâs supply run didnât go as planned. There were first order TIE fighters waiting for them. Iâm not sure of the specifics, just that Commander L/Nâs X-wingâs communication systems went out. Snap said Y/N went down saving him and when he rushed back to their crashed X-wing, they were breathing, but unconscious and bleeding.âÂ
Her eyes softened as she saw Poeâs heartbroken expression. âIâm sorry, Poe. I know you must be feeling helpless right now. But there is no reason to assume the worst, at least not yet.â
Poe swallowed hard, the tears making his throat heavy. âIâm-â His voice broke, the pain evident. âIâm gonna go wait at the hangar bay. Theyâll make it home.âÂ
Leia just nodded, not having the heart to tell him to try to prepare himself for the worst.Â
-------
When you woke up, you were in Snapâs X-wing, leaning against the wall in the small space. You groaned when you moved your hand to your head. Yup, you were definitely bleeding.Â
âWhere are we?â You croaked out.Â
Snapâs head shot over to you. âOh thank the Maker, youâre awake! Weâre almost back at the base. Just sit still, okay?â
You nodded, already feeling a bit groggy.
âY/N?!âÂ
You gave an annoyed hum in response.
âCome on, Y/N, donât fall asleep. Hold on a little longer.âÂ
You nodded, fighting against every instinct you had to stay conscious.Â
âKriff, okay. Talk to me, okay?â
âAbout what?â Your mouth felt like sandpaper and your head was heavy. Even as you leaned it against the wall, you felt dizzy, like youâd tip over at any second.Â
âDameron. Tell me about Dameron, okay?â
Your lips unconsciously curled into a soft smile. And then your eyes shot open as you tried to physically shake the dizziness from your body. âThe X-wing!â
âWhat?!â
âMy, no, his X-wing! Poeâs, his- heâs gonna be so upset, kriff!âÂ
âWhat are you going on about?â
âPoe, he let me use his X-wing and it kriffing crashed and-â You trailed off, running a hand through your hair and wincing as the movement aggravated your injured head.Â
âY/N, calm down, okay? Heâll be fine, heâs not gonna care.â
You nodded, eyes filling with guilty tears as Snap finally pulled up to the Resistance Base. Home. As the X-wing opened, Snap helped haul you up as Poe sprinted over to you.Â
âY/N!â He called, hands coming to hold either side of your face. He quickly put one of your arms around his shoulders as his wound around your waist, holding your weight against him.
âIâm sorry, Iâm so-â You hiccupped, tears leaking from your eyes.Â
âHey, itâs okay, itâs alright. Letâs just get you back to our room, yeah?âÂ
You shook your head, placing a hand on his chest to stop him. He looked into your eyes and his concern compounded, no idea why you were so distraught.Â
âI crashed your X-wing.â You said, head hung in shame.Â
Poe was now just as confused as he was concerned. âI⌠I know, sweetheart. But youâre safe now, Iâve got you. Just a little more walking and then I can clean you up.âÂ
âNo! I, you donât understand! Poe, itâs not just scratched up, itâs ruined. We had to leave it, itâs gone and itâs my fault and Iâm so, so sorry.â
He just shook his head, still shocked that you thought he was upset about that. âY/N, I know. But Iâm not worried about that, Iâm worried about you. Now would you please let me get you back to our room?âÂ
You nodded but he didnât miss how the guilt refused to leave your gaze. When you finally got inside, he led you over to the bed and got you to sit down.Â
âIâm fine, seriously.âÂ
Poe quirked his eyebrow. âYouâre bleeding from the head.âÂ
He walked quickly into the refresher, coming back with the medkit youâve used on him millions of times before. As he worked on disinfecting the cut on your head, you bunched your fingers in the bedsheets, distracting yourself from the pain of the gash. Noticing, he muttered a quick apology, taking a break to stroke his thumb across your cheekbone. Finally, he finished stitching the cut and gently placed a bandage over the area, smoothing out the edges.Â
When he looked up, he saw you lost in your own mind. âCome on, baby, talk to me.âÂ
âYou just⌠you loved that ship and you trusted me with it and youâd had it for so long and I canât believe I wrecked it.âÂ
Poe sighed, wishing there was something he could do to convince you that everything was alright.Â
âSweetheart, itâs a kriffing X-wing. Why are you so worked up about it?â His voice was soft and free of judgment.Â
âI just feel like I let you down.âÂ
âHey,â He said, taking your hands in his. âYou did nothing of the sort. I promise, Iâm not upset, okay? Iâm just glad you made it home to me.âÂ
You looked up at him. âIâll always come home to you.âÂ
You scooted over and gestured to the bed, a silent invitation. Poe smiled at you and took a second to take off his boots and jacket before climbing in beside you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, careful not to hit your head while doing so. You leaned into him, your face resting comfortably in the crook of his neck as you breathed in his scent. He pulled back for a second, just to grab the covers and move them so they were all around you and up to your chin, just as you liked.Â
Under the blankets, you moved your hand so it was resting on his heart. You liked doing so, feeling the steady beating of it after a long mission. Poe was used to it by now and simply placed one of his hands atop yours, his thumb rubbing up and down.Â
âAnd you know itâs not your fault, right?â He said, breaking the silenceÂ
âPoe, I was literally the one that crashed it.â You reasoned, lifting your head up to look at him.Â
âThey shot you down as you took out two TIE fighters! No one could have gotten out of that.âÂ
âBut you had so many memories attached to that X-wing-â
â-And weâll make new ones.â He finished.Â
You sighed and nodded, a slow smile creeping onto your face that let Poe know that you at least somewhat believed his words. Inwardly, he cheered, quite proud of himself for getting through to you. Outwardly, he just tucked you further into his embrace and relished in the feeling of you safe, home, and in his arms.
----
tagging people on my permanent taglist + peoples who wanted a tag/might be interested? if i wrongly guessed youâd be interested please feel free to ignore sfklsj!!
@saltybreaddream @buckysbeloved @lolquarth @sodaoverstars @artiza-n @poestardust @beskar-tano @starwarsflowers @sunsetkenobi @90steaology @marvelinsanity @dracowars @collywobbl @dameronologyâ @marvel-ousnesssâ
also: i added poe to my taglist and if you would like to be added to those tags, the link to join my taglist is in my pinned! if youâve already joined my taglist, you can just fill it out again in full or just check poeâs name and either way iâll know because the last question on the form lets me know if youâre new to the taglist or simply editing your previous answer :)
also i sent this fic to the queue because i have never been more scared to post something
#megan writes#poe dameron x reader#poe dameron x y/n#poe dameron x you#poe dameron imagines#poe dameron fanfic#poe dameron fanfiction#poe dameron fluff#poe dameron x gn!reader#poe dameron x gender neutral reader
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broken bones
prompt: broken bones
whumpee: eddie diaz
fandom: 911
hey i am back with another street fighting eddie fic. this is set after heâs stopped street fighting but he goes back for this. bad idea eddie. but i will let you read on!!
Eddie bounces around the ring, light on the balls of his feet, hands raised, expertly ducking and blocking nearly all of his opponentâs punches. One or two hit him, but he barely feels them, too caught up in focusing on the fight.Â
He lashes out with a right hook that his opponent blocks with a swift arm, slamming into it with such an intense force Eddieâs surprised it hadnât hurt the guy. He strikes out with another punch, which is countered, and receives a solid blow to the nose that knocks him off balance for a second.Â
He regains his sense of balance and launches himself again at his opponent with renewed strength brought on by the stinging feeling on his face. He lands a solid punch to the guyâs chest, leaning into it a bit too much, so that the guy in turn has easy access for a punch to his ribs.Â
The hit connects, and he stumbles back for a fraction of a second, during which time his opponent leaps at him, a flurry of punches coming his way like all of a sudden the guy is desperate to win within the next five seconds.Â
Which he doesnât. Eddie avoids some of the blows and absorbs the rest, launching himself back with a similar intensity. Two punches to the chest, one punch blocked with a slam down of the arm, a punch to the faceâŚ
They separate after a few seconds, both near the edge of exhaustion but evidently equally willing to push themselves past that point if it means winning. Which Eddie is going to do. Has to do.Â
The arena has gone fairly silent, apparently in anxious preparation for the final blows of the fight, which everyone can see are coming, Eddie imagines. But even his opponent has gone weirdly still, looking at him like heâs not sure what it is heâs seeing. Eddie reaches up his arm to wipe a bead of sweat away from his eyes, hears a strange ooh sound resonate through the crowd, gives it no thought, and launches himself back for a final knockout punch.Â
Which comes, but not from him. A glove hits him in the chin, oddly soft, and ordinarily he doubts this is the kind of punch to take him out, but evidently his head had snapped back harder than heâd thought, because his vision starts to spin and he sinks to the ground.Â
Blood rushes in his ears, but normally he can at least hear the crowd cheering faintly over the noise. Now theyâre dead silent. He hopes that doesnât mean the cops are here.Â
Eddie looks around, blinking stars out of his vision, and sees several pairs of eyes trained on him. Heâs too dizzy to see what kind of emotion theyâre conveying, but the low murmur thatâs started up tells him itâs probably nothing good.Â
Someone grabs him around his left bicep and pulls him to his feet suddenly, leaving his head spinning far worse than it had been before. They drag him out of the ring and push him in the general direction of his truck.
âWhaâs goin on?â he asks. ââM not leavin yet.â
âYes, you are,â says an unfamiliar voice. âYouâre done for the night, Diaz, and in fact, I donât wanna see you back here anytime soon. Understand me?â
Eddie nods, though he absolutely does not understand. What had he done wrong? Sure heâd got beat, but that was a one-time thing. Heâs good at this. HeâŚ
His right arm is wet. Wet? He reaches out his left hand to touch the wetness, which feels like itâs too much to be sweat.Â
In the dim glow of a singular lamppost, he sees the wetness glistening red on his fingers. He looks at it with a frown on his face, wondering where it had come from, and then looks at his arm.Â
Which is...oh god.Â
He turns his head away from it immediately, trying and failing not to gag, feeling the pain swell up all at once, screaming and red-hot and physically sickening.Â
He looks again, very briefly, in some crazy desire to make sure heâd seen what heâd seen.Â
He had. Thereâs a bone - his bone - sticking through the skin of his forearm, which is covered in his own blood. He screws his eyes shut like not having the option of looking at it will somehow make it better.
Which it doesnât, of course. Now that heâs seen it, there is no stopping the pain that radiates from his arm, engulfing his entire body so that itâs literally the only thing heâs capable of paying attention to. Hot tears prick at the corners of his eyes, and he lets them fall, hating the way they feel like the blood thatâs dripping from his arm. He sinks to the ground, leaning his back against the lamppost, not moving his arm at all, even to a position that might make it a little more comfortable.
He needs...he has toâŚ
He doesnât know. Thereâs something...someone, who will help him. But thatâs as far as his brain will allow him to think before itâs pulling him back under the frothing ocean of pain.Â
Buck.Â
The name comes to him without him needing to focus on it. He canât think about who Buck is, but simply knows who he is - a big smile, a bigger heart, video games with Chris, teamwork on calls, love, trust. Buck will help him.Â
Shaking, bloody fingers find his phone in the duffle bag next to him, which he hadnât even realized anyone had given him. He briefly blinks open his eyes to unlock his phone and find Buckâs contact - both acts done with no conscious thought behind them - and then Buckâs voice is in his ear and everything hurts so, so much, but he knows with absolute certainty that he is going to be okay.
He canât find the energy or the focus to speak and feels himself descend further into the pain, but above the roar of it in his ears he hears Buckâs voice saying heâs coming, and to just hold on.Â
--
Thereâs a hand on his face, cool against the heat that engulfs his whole body.Â
â-die? Can you hear me?â
He forces his eyes open and finds himself staring at Buck, whose hand is cupping his cheek and preventing him from turning his face to look at his arm. âHey,â he manages to whisper, feeling the word grate through his body like sandpaper.Â
âHey,â Buck says softly, and the hand rubs gently against Eddieâs cheek. âIâm gonna take care of you, okay?â
Eddie nods. Buckâs gonna take care of him...he focuses on that thought as Buck slowly slips an arm around his left arm and shoulder, pulling him carefully to his feet.Â
The change in position makes him even dizzier than he had been before, and he turns his head away from Buck and pukes, trying to focus on the feeling of Buckâs hand on his back until the dizziness fades ever so slightly.Â
âYou good?â Buck asks, after a moment, and Eddie takes a shaky step in response, not bothering to try and talk.Â
They make it the rest of the way to Buckâs jeep without incident, and Buck helps Eddie into the passenger seat, then heads around to the back of the car.
He returns to Eddieâs side in seconds, and tells Eddie to keep his eyes closed. Eddie feels something press into his arm, barely able to be felt over the pain, and then he feels something else touching both sides of his arm, and some part of his mind instinctively knows itâs a splint.Â
âDonât move it,â Buck says, which Eddieâd needed no encouragement not to do. He hears a seatbelt click and realizes itâs his own, and hears his door slam and the driverâs side door open, and then the car starts.Â
Theyâre driving, and Buckâs not saying anything to him, and Eddie desperately wants him to. Heâs growing slowly used to the pain, so that thoughts are coming more easily, and theyâre all terrible and he just wants to hear Buckâs voice, even if itâs yelling at him.Â
âI thought you were done with this,â Buck says eventually.Â
âWas,â Eddie breathes. âJust...needed tâ...let off some steam.â
âAnd there wasnât any better way to do that?â
âSorry.â He genuinely is sorry. He knows this hadnât been his best idea, but heâd just felt so overwhelmed the past few days, so out of his own control...and he knows this. Knows fighting. So heâd come. He doesnât suppose heâll be doing it again, though.Â
Buck doesnât say anything else, and Eddie wishes again that he would, that heâd lecture him forever, tell him he hates him, anything, just so that he knows Buckâs still there. So he knows heâs not alone.
âItâs okay, Eddie,â Buck says, which is not at all what Eddieâd expected him to say next. His hand comes to rest on Eddieâs thigh, a grounding weight, and Eddie focuses on it, on Buck, for all heâs worth.Â
âI get it,â Buck continues. âAs much as I can, anyway. Iâve been known to cope poorly with things too.â He laughs, short and low.Â
âAnd Iâm mad at you. Really mad. Your - well, you know - you went back to something you promised you were done with and you really got hurt, Eds.â
He knows. God, he knows. He feels the hot tears return to his eyes and tries valiantly to hold them back, like heâs losing something by letting them go now, with Buck.Â
The car stops, then, and Eddie feels it shift into park. Buckâs hand moves from his leg to his face, brushing away the tears that have begun to fall despite Eddieâs best efforts. Thereâs a gentleness to the touch that he hates and loves in equal measure.Â
âItâs okay,â Buck repeats. âItâs gonna be okay, Eddie.â
He wants to believe that. He does. And when itâs Buck saying it...
Very slowly, Eddie opens his eyes, needing suddenly to look at Buck. His eyes are shiny in the dark, familiar and comforting amidst the pain.Â
I love you, Eddie thinks, and the pain must make him bold for a split second, because he lifts his left hand to place it atop Buckâs, still on his cheek, and says it out loud.Â
Buck says nothing, but gently moves Eddieâs hand and his own, and gets out of the car. For a single second Eddie panics, but then Buckâs opening his door into the parking lot of the hospital and giving him a hand out, not even waiting for Eddie to stumble before grabbing hold of him. But instead of supporting him around the shoulders, Buck very carefully hugs him and presses a soft, quick kiss to Eddieâs temple.Â
âI love you, too,â he whispers against Eddieâs skin, and without another word heâs leading Eddie along to the Emergency entrance, the letters glowing in the dark like blood, or maybe like the pink Eddie sees on Buckâs cheeks. Heâs a little too dizzy to think too hard about which it is, but the dizziness seems like the least important thing in the world. He keeps his eyes open, focusing them on Buck and Buck alone.
âI love you,â he says again, like he needs to be sure Buck had really heard him, like Buck knows what heâs getting himself into.Â
âYou said that already,â Buck reminds him, stopping for a brief second to return Eddieâs gaze, strong and sure even through the dark, âbut you can say it again as much as you want. I love you, too.â
They step together through the sliding doors, Buckâs arm around Eddieâs shoulder, and despite the pain still raging in his arm, Eddie finds himself smiling. He loves Buck.Â
And Buck loves him, too.
skhfldsfhldfsd i hope you liked this!!! i feel i may be too repetitive with my constant âeddie gets hurt and then thereâs a love confession and itâs very sweetâ fics but they bring me a lot of joy lmao. but let me know if thereâs something youâd rather me do! anyhow thanks for reading :)
#febuwhump2021#febuwhumpday16#broken bones#911#eddie diaz#broken arm#cared for#my writing#i say things
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Title: Weird Science Collaborator Name: ceealaina Card Number: 3088 Link: AO3 Square Filled: A5 - Bodysharing Ship: IronHusbands Rating: E Major Tags: MIT Era, Bodyswap, Hand Jobs, Summary: In a series of unfortunate events, a lab incident leads to Tony and Rhodey switching bodies -- the same weekend that Tony absolutely has to go home. Now Tony has to get everything back to normal while evading his parents, Jarvis, and dealing with a super cranky Rhodey. (It would help if he was slightly less distracted by wanting to touch his new body all over.) Word Count: 5418
Tony opened his eyes and then immediately closed them again, groaning as his head pounded in response. âOh god, what the fuck happened?â he asked.Â
Then he froze, because that⌠Wasnât his voice.Â
Very, very slowly, he opened his eyes, looking across the room only to see, well, himself staring back at⌠Himself. Tony watched his own eyes grow wide, a very bad feeling growing in his stomach.Â
âRhodey?â he asked at the same time that his own body asked, âTones?â They stared at each other for a long time.Â
âOh, shit.â
Tony was the first to speak as the fact that he and Rhodey had switched bodies started to really sink in. âOkay.â He covered his mouth with his hand, something heâd seen Rhodey do a thousand times when he was nervous, and quickly dropped it to his side again. âOkay, this is⌠Fine.â
âFine?â Rhodey repeated in a high, screechy voice.Â
Tony glared at him. Being the youngest person at MIT was hard enough. He worked very hard to keep his voice from doing that in public, thank you very much. But Rhodey didnât seem to notice. Â
âTony, this is not fine! Nothing about this is fine!âÂ
âJust⌠Stop panicking!âÂ
âStop panicking, he says. How am I not supposed to panic when you are inside me.â
Tony blinked at that, then choked, biting at his lower lip. He didnât want to laugh, but he couldnât help it. Tony snorted, the sound turning to full laughter as Rhodey glared at him, and wow, Tony was hot when he made that face. Heâd have to keep that in mind.Â
âI cannot believe youâre laughing right now.âÂ
âIâm sorry!â Tony protested. âItâs just⌠you said âinside me.ââ
Tony gave an undignified yelp as Rhodey launched the closest piece of lab equipment he could find at him, but his body moved on instinct, ducking easily out of the way so that the screwdriver clinked harmlessly to the ground somewhere behind him.Â
âWow!â Tony straightened back up, staring down at his hands. âYour reflexes are so much better than mine!â
âTony! This isnât a damn science experiment. I told you not to mess with that shit, and what do you do? Immediately start messing with that shit.âÂ
Tony rolled his eyes and moved back over to the machine heâd created, only stumbling a little as his brain tried to adjust for Rhodeyâs gait. âOkay, in my defense, you werenât supposed to be here.âÂ
âThat doesnât make me feel better. So what, you were going to transfer your subconsciousness to the computer?â He wrinkled up his nose, face scrunching into something wholly displeased and unattractive.
âStop doing that with my face,â Tony told him, starting to adjust the settings on the machine. âItâs fine, really. I do actually know what Iâm doing sometimes. Itâs simple, really. All I have to do is reverse the polarity, and⌠Oh. Shit.âÂ
Rhodey drew in a deep breath, obviously trying to keep his cool. âWhat âoh shit?ââÂ
âUmm.â Tony ducked down, partly to avoid Rhodeyâs gaze and partly to check if the damage was as bad as his initial assessment. It was worse. âOkay, so the circuits are totally fried. Iâm gonna have to rebuild the entire thing. Itâs fine!â he added hastily as he straightened back up in time to see Rhodey running his hands through his hair, adding an extra three inches to Tonyâs height. âI already built it once. The second timeâll be easy. Itâll just take me a couple days. Especially with your clumsy fingers.âÂ
âMy fingers arenât clumsy,â Rhodey grumbled automatically, but he seemed to be calming down a little, and that was something. âSo what, weâre just supposed to walk around, pretending to be each other?âÂ
âItâs two days,â Tony said again. âMonday at the latest. Thatâs nothing. Weâll just say we gave each other the flu, call in sick to everything we have to do. Iâll hunker down here, you can hang out at the apartment. Nobody will even have to know.âÂ
âUh-huh.â Rhodey folded his arms across his chest and arched an eyebrow, and Tony made a face; it was weird seeing a look that was so quintessentially Rhodey on his own features. âThink youâre forgetting something there, dumbass.âÂ
âYeah?â Tony was half distracted, already making lists in his head of what heâd need to do to repair the machine. âWhatâs that?âÂ
âIsnât this the weekend that youâre supposed to go visit your parents? That big fancy party your momâs throwing?âÂ
Tony stared up at Rhodey in horror, feeling the blood drain from his face. âOh no.âÂ
âOh yes,â Rhodey confirmed. âAnd I donât think the flu excuse is gonna work this time, since thatâs what you told her two weeks ago. And the month before that. Iâm pretty sure thereâs a limit to how many times you can get the flu in one semester. In fact, I seem to remember her telling you that if you tried to bail again, sheâd come up here herself and drag you home by the hair.âÂ
Tony buried his face in his hands, panic flaring through him. âThis canât be happening!â he wailed, even though he knew Rhodey was right. There was absolutely no getting out of this. âWhat am I gonna do? Why did it have to be this weekend?âÂ
âIâm sorry,â Rhodey told him dryly. âDid next week fit your schedule better for swapping bodies?â But as Tony gave him a half-hearted glare, he came around, placing his hands on Tonyâs upper arms. âHey, itâs going to be okay,â he told him, calm now in the face of Tonyâs panic -- that was how they worked. God only knew what would happen if they both panicked at the same time. Explosions, probably. âTell your parents youâre bringing a friend with you for the weekend. I can come along, and then at least weâll have an excuse to be together. You can work on it there, and kick me if I say the wrong thing, and itâll be fine.âÂ
Tony gave him a skeptical look. âYou just want an excuse to go up to New York so you can yell at Howard.âÂ
âAlways,â Rhodey agreed easily. âBut if it makes you feel any better, I promise Iâll be on my best behaviour while Iâm inside you.â He phrased it that way on purpose, grinning when Tony cracked a smile. âItâs gonna be fine.âÂ
***
Tony was lucky that everyone was used to him bringing home projects from school. Jarvis didnât even bat an eye when he came to pick them up and Tony loaded an enormous box full of mechanical parts into the backseat, just greeted them both warmly, took their luggage, and asked if they had any music preferences for the drive. That was one advantage to the two of them going, anyway; heâd already warned Rhodey not to let Jarvis catch him alone to make sure he was really okay, like he did every time Tony was back home. There was no way heâd be even remotely fooled if he had any one-on-one time with Rhodey.
Maria, Rhodey had reported after one very tense phone call, was thrilled that Tony was bringing Rhodey along. Sheâd liked him the few times sheâd met him, thought he was a good influence. But Tony thought it was more likely that she was hoping a guest would keep Tony and Howard on their best behaviour. She really should have known better.Â
Howard hadnât been there to greet them, or as Maria gave Rhodey a tour of the house and showed him to the guest room beside Tonyâs room. He had missed the start of dinner too, striding in just a little too purposefully as Jarvis was clearing the appetizers. He hadnât reached the point of stumbling yet, but Tony could tell he had already been into the scotch. His eyes had slid over Tony as he took his seat, and Tony resisted the urge to shudder at the obvious disdain in his expression.Â
âWho the hell are you?âÂ
âHoward.â Maria looked tired already. âThis is James Rhodes. Tonyâs roommate at MIT?âÂ
âJim,â Tony corrected, like heâd heard Rhodey do a thousand times. He knew his voice didnât sound right, but it wasnât as though they would know the difference, and Howard had already dismissed him, eyes turning to Rhodey, who was meeting Howardâs gaze way more head on than Tony ever did. Tony winced into his water glass; that wasnât a good start.
âAnd what are you working on?â he asked, tone derisive, ready to tear apart whatever his response was. Rhodey opened his mouth to reply, and Tony knew this wasnât going to go well.Â
âAI,â he burst out, kicking Rhodey hard under the table. âIsnât that what you were telling me? Tones?â
Rhodey drew in a deep breath but managed to get himself under control. âYup,â he agreed, voice tight. âAI.âÂ
Howard rolled his eyes. âSounds like a waste of time,â he decided.Â
âMaybe the AI can find Captain America for you,â Tony grumbled at the table, forgetting for a moment that Howardâs quest to find a long-dead super soldier was supposed to be classified. Thankfully, nobody was paying attention to him except for Rhodey.Â
***
Somehow they managed to make it through dinner, and Tony and Rhodey had made a quick escape back to Tonyâs bedroom. Theyâd dicked around for a bit, Tony talking through his plan for rebuilding their body⌠transporting⌠machine (he really needed a name for that) and Rhodey bitching about what an absolute asshole Howard was (he wasnât wrong). But it had been an incredibly long day, and eventually Rhodey slipped off to his own bedroom to get some sleep.Â
Tony had gone through his normal bedtime routine perfunctorily, brushing his teeth and changing into pajamas. Heâd flipped off the lights and slid into bed and was suddenly left with the realization that he was alone, in the dark, and this was Rhodeyâs body, that fact seeming like a much, much bigger deal than it had before.Â
The problem was that lately heâd been⌠Noticing Rhodey more and more. Getting distracted by his arms, or his chest, or his smile, thinking about him when he wasnât even around. Tony kept telling himself it was just that they spent most of their time together, and he wasnât dating, and eventually it would go away, but so far that hadnât been the case. Quite the opposite, actually. He kept resisting calling it a crush but, well, thatâs exactly what it was.Â
And now he was lying in bed, in the dark, hyper aware of the fact that he always jerked off before bed, but oh, hey. This wasnât his body. For longer than he felt really comfortable with, Tony was tempted anyway. Wanted to slip out of his clothes, wrap his hand around his cock. Get to see what Rhodey looked like, feel the weight of him in his hand, find out what made him twitch, and gasp, and moan, and go cross-eyed. It would probably be his only chance to find out.Â
But even as he thought it, he knew he wasnât going to go through with it. Of course he wasnât going to go through with it. That crossed all sorts of lines that he wasnât going to cross, even if his brain wouldnât shut up about it.Â
Sighing, Tony slid back out of bed and turned on the light, spreading the machinery over the floor as he got to work on rebuilding the machine.Â
He ended up staying up the entire night, losing track of time like he always did. It hit him harder now though, and by the time the sun was well up and Rhodey was slipping in with a mug of coffee and a muffin for him, Tonyâs head was pounding and his fingers were shaking.Â
Rhodey glared at him as he passed over the goods, face scrunched up sourly, and Tony winced. âWow, that is not a good look for me.âÂ
âDid you stay up all night?â Rhodey asked, glare increasing. âYou canât do that with my body, Tones!âÂ
Tony rolled his eyes. âWhy yes, Rhodes. I did in fact make a shit-ton of progress on this machine. We should be able to switch back before we leave for Boston, actually, if I pilfer some stuff from the garage. You're welcome.âÂ
This news didnât seem to have the cheer-up effect that Tony was hoping for, Rhodey just glaring at him harder, and Tony pouted a little.Â
âJeez, what crawled up your butt?â he muttered into his coffee cup.Â
âNothing,â Rhodey growled, sounding almost mad about it.Â
Giving him a weird look, because what the fuck was his problem, Tony took a sip of his coffee and nearly spit it all over the bed. âUgh, what the hell is wrong with this? Is the coffee bad? Can coffee go bad?âÂ
Rhodey took a sip from his own mug, and wrinkled his nose. âNo sugar. I made it black, like you usually take it. But I guess, technically, youâre not the one drinking it.â He yanked the cup out of Tonyâs hand, ignoring the faint whine of protest that slipped out of his mouth as he passed him the other one. âDrink this one instead.â
Tony sipped the coffee with Rhodeyâs customary three servings of sugar, expecting it to be awful, but was pleasantly surprised by the flavor. He hummed as sweet, sweet caffeine filtered through his body, thankful that that, at least, was a common factor between them.Â
âYou said weâd be back to normal by tomorrow?â Rhodey asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.Â
âYeah, I think so. Weâll still have to go to the party tonight, but I figure we can get away with hiding away up here today. I can get most of it done and then we sneak down to the garage early tomorrow morning and be back to normal before Jarvis takes us back to Boston.â
âGood,â Rhodey grumbled. âCanât come soon enough.âÂ
***Â
Tony didnât know what Rhodeyâs problem was. Normally he could be counted on to be in a good mood; he was easy-going, especially compared to Tonyâs chaotic energy, and it took a lot to phase him. But today he was a miserable excuse for a human, growly and grouchy, and his mood only got worse as the day went on. There wasnât much he could do to help with the rebuilding -- Tony wasnât great at explaining his thought processes, and sometimes it was easier to just let him handle it -- but it wasnât like letting him go wandering around the house where he could encounter Howard, or Maria, or Jarvis was a smart plan either. So he was stuck in the bedroom with Tony, flicking through the channels on the television and bitching about everything from the weather to Tonyâs bodyâs tendency to constantly fiddle his hands.Â
By the time they had to get ready for the party, and Rhodey had gone back to his own room to shower and change, Tony couldnât help feeling a little relieved to get a break from him. Heâd maybe been exaggerating slightly about how easy peasy rebuilding the machine would be, and trying to manage it while fending off Rhodeyâs bad mood was exhausting.Â
Heâd been hoping that a shower and maybe a nap would calm Rhodey the fuck down, but if anything he was worse when Tony met him outside the ballroom, glowering at the guests and tugging at the crotch of Tonyâs dress pants. âCanât you wear pants that fit?â he hissed as they moved into the party.Â
âMy pants fit,â Tony retorted, the only thing he had time to manage before his mother was whisking Rhodey off on a whirlwind tour of business contacts and debutantes. Tony had been dealing with this since he was a little kid, knew how to smile and ask the right questions and play pretend. But Rhodey didnât, and so all Tony could do was hover by the drinks table and fend off curious looks as he watched Rhodey from across the room, glowering more and more with each new person he was introduced to.Â
The second Maria had released him, looking less than pleased with âTonyâsâ behaviour, Tony was across the room. He grabbed Rhodey by the arm and yanked him out a side door with a careful look back to make sure no one was watching them.Â
âOkay, what the fuck?â he demanded the moment they had some privacy. âWhat is going on with you?â
âNothing,â Rhodey grumbled, yanking his arm away with a sullen expression. Vaguely, Tony couldnât help thinking that it was no wonder that look was so effective at pissing off Howard. He kind of wanted to punch himself in the face right now. Then he looked at him closer.Â
âAre you blushing? Stop doing that with my face. You look stupid.âÂ
âYour face is stupid,â Rhodey shot back automatically, and Tony stared at him.Â
âOkay, are you a literal child right now? Seriously, what the actual fuck is going on with you? Are you trying to get me killed? Because thatâs what it looks like from here.âÂ
âItâs nothing!â Rhodey insisted. âDonât be such a drama queen.âÂ
âIâm not. Howard will literally kill me if he thinks Iâm doing something to ruin Momâs party.âÂ
Rhodey looked a little guilty at that. âI wouldnât let him hurt you, Tones. You know that.âÂ
Tony felt some of his anger dissipate, warm butterflies fluttering in his stomach at how easily protective Rhodey was. âI know,â he said. âCome on, would you just tell me what's wrong?â he asked again, this time. âIs it really that bad being stuck in my body?âÂ
âWell it wouldnât be if your dick would just calm down!â Rhodey snapped before his eyes went wide, colour draining from his face. He buried his face in his hands. âOh god. Please just pretend I didnât say that.âÂ
âOh.â Tony cleared his throat a little awkwardly. Admittedly, his sex drive was kind of stupidly high, even for someone his age. It just hadnât occurred to him that that would be what was going on here. âThatâs whatâs got you all on edge? I thought there was an actual problem.â He winced at the baleful look that Rhodey sent him between his fingers; that probably hadnât been the most sensitive of responses. âNo, I just mean⌠You can go ahead andâŚâ Tony made an abortive motion with his hands, trying not to get distracted by Rhodeyâs long fingers. âLike, you have my permission. To do⌠whatever⌠you need to⌠do.âÂ
Rhodey made a pained noise. âYou think I havenât tried that?â he asked, and Tony felt his brain white out at the admission. For a minute all he could focus on was the idea that Rhodey had been jerking off his dick, that Rhodey knew what he felt and looked like, that he had felt comfortable enough with Tony to just go ahead and do it. For all Tonyâs internal conflict about touching himself in Rhodeyâs body, knowing that Rhodey had done the same with him didnât feel like a breach of trust in the slightest. Then, abruptly, he realized that Rhodey was still speaking. âIt didnât work, I couldnât⌠get there. I donât know, it felt all weird. Seriously dude, does your dick have a trick shot or something to come? Iâve been goinâ around half hard all day, in someone elseâs body. Thatâs why Iâm so pissed off.âÂ
âOh,â Tony said again. He could feel his heart racing, felt a little like he might pass out. âI could, uhâŚâ He trailed off, hoping he wasnât going to get punched in the face for what he was about to suggest. âI could show you? What I usually do, I mean. If that would help?âÂ
Rhodey froze. âYouâd do that?âÂ
Tony gave a lazy shrug, trying to feign a coolness that he didnât feel. âItâs only fair, right? It is still my body, makes sense that Iâd show you how it works. And youâre kind of a bitch to be around right now, so itâs not like Iâm only doing this from the goodness of my heart, here.âÂ
God, Rhodey had no idea.Â
âWhat about the party?â Rhodey asked, but eyes were dark and his voice had gone low and rough, and Tony knew he was going to say yes. He shrugged again.Â
âYouâve already done the rounds with Mom. Sheâll leave you alone now, especially since Iâm here too. And I grew up in this house. I can get us back upstairs without anyone noticing.âÂ
Rhodey nodded, tongue flicking out over his lip, and nonsensically Tony wondered if he always did that when he was horny. âYeah, alright,â Rhodey agreed. âItâs worth a try.âÂ
***
They ended up in Tony's bedroom -- his actual bedroom, not the one that heâd been using as Rhodey -- not quite meeting each otherâs eyes as they stripped out of their jackets and ties and pants until they were left in boxers and t-shirts.Â
âHow, uh⌠How do you want to do this?â Tony asked, eyes focused somewhere on his own collarbone.Â
Rhodeyâs eyes went wide. âI donât know, man. This was your idea!âÂ
âOkay.â He gave Rhodey a crooked smile, trying to ease some of the tension in the room. âI mean, do you want me to just talk you through it? Call in from another room with walkie talkies? Or⌠Are you gonna freak out if I touch you?âÂ
Rhodey snorted, rolling his shoulders back. âNo. Itâs not like Iâve never been touched before,â he pointed out, but he was posturing just a little, Tony could tell.Â
He hummed, consideringly, and his gaze drifted lower, blinking when he realized that Rhodey was hard. It was kind of weird, looking at his own erection from this angle, but also it was Rhodey. âOkay, what if⌠What if I just sit behind you, on the bed, and then I can justâŚâ He made a jerk off motion with his hand, grinning when Rhodey bit back a laugh. âDo it like itâs me.âÂ
Rhodey nodded, swallowing hard. âYeah,â he said, clearing his throat when his voice cracked on the word. âYeah,â he said again. âLetâs try that.âÂ
They didnât speak as they shifted into position, Tony sitting back against the mountain of pillows, bending his knees and spreading his legs wide enough to leave room for Rhodey to settle between them, back to Tonyâs chest. Rhodey was tense and stiff in front of him -- and not (entirely) in the good way -- and Tony dug his knee against his ribs.Â
âHey, we donât gotta do this, you know. If you need to stop or something, just say the word.âÂ
In response, Rhodey elbowed him in the stomach, making him grunt. âWhat, are you chickening out on me, Stark? Man up!âÂ
Tony rolled his eyes and then pushed Rhodeyâs t-shirt up, stroking his fingers down over his ribs. Rhodey made a soft, punched out noise at the touch and Tony grinned. âFeels good, huh?âÂ
âYup,â Rhodey bit out, but he was still tense so Tony figured heâd skip the foreplay and move right to the good stuff. He rolled his boxers down over Rhodeyâs hips, noticing the way that Rhodey inhaled sharply, stifling a whine as his cock sprang free, hard and wet at the tip and twitching in the cooler air of the room.Â
âThere we go,â Tony hummed, curling his hand loosely around Rhodeyâs cock and giving it a slow stroke. Almost instantly, Rhodey melted back against him, body going limp as he let out a low groan. Tony shuddered a little in response, the sound going right through him. He pressed in closer, rubbing his cheek against Rhodeyâs hot shoulder. âFeels good, right?â he purred, and the fact that he was speaking with Rhodeyâs voice in that tone sent heat flaring through his body. âIâm really sensitive,â he admitted softly, stroking his thumb over the head of his cock until Rhodeyâs hips rocked up against him. âGotta start out light, or else itâs too much.âÂ
He tightened his fist just a smidge and Rhodeyâs breathing picked up, panting hard as he squirmed back against him. âJesus Christ, Tones,â he muttered. His hands twisted in the sheets, hips rocking. âFuck, that feels good.âÂ
Tony grinned against his shoulder, fighting back the urge to kiss him. He could feel himself getting hard against Rhodeyâs back but did his best to ignore it, instead twisting his hand over the head of his cock so that the next stroke was wet and slick.
âChrist, Tones. Is it always so⌠Much?âÂ
âUsually,â Tony admitted. âIt, uh⌠It helps having a partner.âÂ
Apparently something about that was appealing to Rhodey, because he ground back against Tony, and Tony couldnât help the low noise that he made as his cock rubbed up against his own ass because wow. His butt really was phenomenal.Â
He nearly giggled at that thought, but then he tightened his hand a little more, picking up speed, and Rhodey practically wailed in response. Instinctively, Tony clapped his hand over his mouth, just in case any other party guests had had the idea to slip away and overheard them. Rhodey only groaned harder, cock throbbing in Tonyâs hold and his hand scrabbled to grip at Tonyâs wrist, trying to increase the speed, or get him to go harder, or something.
âOh yeah,â Tony huffed out a soft laugh. âI really like that too. Being pinned down, held in place.â He tightened his legs around Rhodey, pulling him in closer. The height difference between them was minimal enough that Tony had never really paid attention to it before, but suddenly, all folded around Rhodey like this, he was conscious of every inch of difference between them. Not just height, but build too, his arms thick and muscular compared to Tonyâs more wiry frame. Suddenly, Tony desperately wanted his body back, wanted to be the one wrapped up in Rhodeyâs hold, thick arms holding him down. He could imagine it too clearly, couldnât help grinding harder against Rhodey at the thought.Â
âTones,â Rhodey gasped out, his free hand clutching at Tonyâs thigh. âIâm soâŚâÂ
âYeah?â Tony hummed, trying to pretend like he wasnât hard and leaking too, dangerously close to coming in his boxers. âGonna come for me?âÂ
Rhodey groaned, shifting in Tonyâs hold. âI want⌠I needâŚâ He twisted his head back, the angle awkward, but then he was kissing Tony. It was wet and messy, the angle awkward, and the kisses were more panting against each otherâs mouth than anything, but Tony had never felt anything so amazing. He tightened his grip around Rhodey, moving his other hand to scratch over the inside of his thighs and Rhodey sobbed against his lips as he came, spilling over Tonyâs hand.
âOh shit,â Tony mumbled, stilling himself against Rhodeyâs back and fighting back his own groan. He stroked Rhodey through it, touch lighter with each pass, until Rhodey went completely limp against him, letting Tony take the entirety of his weight. âGood?â Tony asked, eyes trained on the drop of sweat sliding down the length of his neck.Â
âFuck, man.â Rhodeyâs voice was raw. âThat was incredible.â He shifted against him, trying to get more comfortable, and Tony made a punched out noise as he dragged against his still aching cock in the process. Rhodey frowned, sitting up to look at him a little better. âYou didnâtâŚ?âÂ
âWell, you know.â Tony rubbed his hand over his mouth, shrugging a little awkwardly. âI thought we were doing this for you and so it might be a little weird if I⌠You know.âÂ
Rhodey pulled away entirely then, turning around to face him properly. âTony, you are the dumbest genius Iâve ever met,â he informed him before shifting forward and kissing him properly this time, grinning at him dopily when he pulled back again. His hand slid down to cup Tonyâs cock through his boxers, making him whine, and he smirked at him. âNow howâs this body of yours at giving blow jobs?âÂ
Tony stared at him, and then he was groaning as Rhodeyâs hand squeezed and he came in his boxers. He slumped forward against Rhodey, breathing hard into his shoulder while he shuddered through the aftershocks, Rhodeyâs hand tracing soothing strokes up and down his back.
âJesus Christ,â Tony muttered, when he felt like he could breathe again.Â
âNo kidding,â Rhodey told him, voice teasing. âNever took you for being such a quickdraw.âÂ
âExcuse me?â Tony gaped at him as Rhodey slid off the bed, disappearing into the bathroom and coming back with a damp washcloth. âAre you kidding? You were pressed up all against me, panting and moaning. Like you would have lasted half as long in the same situation. And anyway, this is your body, dumbass. If anyoneâs the quickdraw here, itâs you.âÂ
Rhodey snorted as they stripped off the last of their clothes and cleaned up. âOrgasms are 99% mental, Tony.âÂ
Tony shook his head as he climbed under the covers with Rhodey, the thought that maybe he should go back to âRhodeyâsâ room never even occurring to him. âWhat kind of idiot told you that? And you believed them? That sounds like terrible math. Thereâs no way thatâs true.âÂ
They were still lazily trading insults when they drifted off to sleep.Â
***
Tony opened his eyes and then immediately closed them again, groaning as his head pounded in response. âOh god, what the fuck happened?â he asked.Â
Then he froze as he remembered everything. Keeping the rest of his body perfectly still, he opened his eyes just in time to see Rhodey on the other side of the garage, doing the same thing.Â
âOh, thank god,â Rhodey muttered, and Tony felt a matching wave of relief as he watched him pat down his body, checking to make sure everything was as he had left it.Â
Tony got to his feet and grabbed the sledgehammer that heâd left nearby before turning the machine. Beaming, he passed it over to Rhodey. âCare to do the honours?âÂ
When Rhodey had finished smashing the machine to smithereens, a pleased smile on his face, there was a long moment of slightly awkward silence. âSo,â Tony said, trying to quell the anxiety that was building in his stomach. âBack to our own bodies, huh?â He didnât know what this meant for them, if fooling around last night (and then again this morning) was just a one off from an extreme situation, an extended science experiment. Didnât know if Rhodey would just want to pretend it had never happened.Â
But before he could really work himself up into a panic, Rhodey was turning to face him. And as Tony stared at him, confused, he curled his arms around his neck and drew him in for a slow, lazy, perfect kiss.Â
âNow that feels right,â Rhodey declared, and that dopey smile looked way better on his own face. âGetting to kiss you is something Iâve wanted to do for a long time. And having my own mouth back to do it helps.â He gave Tonyâs shoulder a warm squeeze. âCome on, Tones, letâs go home.âÂ
EPILOGUE
They were just about the pull out of the driveway when Howard came storming out of the house, looking furious about something. Tony winced, fighting back the urge to slink down beneath the window until he was out of sight.Â
âCan we just go, Jarvis?âÂ
âNo, wait!â Rhodey yelped before Jarvis could switch the car into gear. âI forgot something!âÂ
He was out of the car before Tony could protest otherwise, and as he watched with a mixture of horror and awe, Rhodey stomped up to Howard, said something he couldnât quite hear, and promptly punched him in the face.
Tony stared with wide eyes as Rhodey turned back to the car, moving at not-quite-a-jog, and then slowly turned his eyes to meet Jarvisâ gaze in the rearview mirror. He was a little terrified at what heâd find, but Jarvis was smiling back at him.Â
âAnthony,â he said, âLet me be the first to tell you how much I absolutely approve of your new boyfriend.âÂ
Tony stared at him as Rhodey climbed back into the car, beaming and just a little out of breath, and gave Tonyâs hand a squeeze. âOkay, now we can go.âÂ
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A Little Puppet Dance - Ch. 1
A The Cabin in the Woods fanfiction.
Ch. 2 /Â AO3
Marty has some misgivings about splitting up, and Dana seems to be the one with the clearest head, so maybe they should stick together. He chooses to pull her into his room instead of letting her go into her own. This one small act throws off the Organizations plans in a major way and has the potential to change all of their futures.
âEveryone, get in your rooms!â Curt ran for the breach, grabbing onto the zombie arm extending from it, and the others scrambled to obey him. Panic was nearly overwhelming Marty, but something was still tickling at the back of his brain.
âSplitting up is never a good idea. It always gets people killed,â he considered silently.  As Dana turned into her room and Holden kept moving, Marty made a rapid decision, grabbed Danaâs arm, and swung her into his own room instead. He was somewhat vindicated a moment later as the door slammed shut of its own accord behind him, catching the back of the hem of his button-up in it.
Dana shrieked in fright at being grabbed and thrown into the room, and she cried out again at the sudden noise of the door crashing closed. She whipped around to face him.
âMarty! What are you doing?! We were supposed to split up and secure our rooms!â Marty grimaced, both at her shrill tone and the words.
âDana, youâve watched plenty of horror movies-â he almost said âwith Julesâ but then remembered the disturbing sight of her bloody, decapitated head and swallowed down the words and the accompanying nausea. âYou know what happens when everyone splits up!â
The redhead glared at him. âThis is real life, Marty, not a movie!â He stepped toward her, only to realize that his shirt was shut in the door. Grumbling to himself, he tried to yank it out, but it wouldnât budge. The door proved to be locked, as well.
âThere are - a little help here - zombies out there - seriously, Dana, please help - and our friend has been murdered.â Dana, who had finally stepped in his direction, flinched, but she still made her way over to assist him. âI think we can safely say that the normal rules donât apply.â
She joined him in tugging at the hem of his shirt, but to no avail. âThat doesnât mean - just take it off, Marty - doesnât mean that the horror movie rules do,â the woman affirmed. Marty gave in and shrugged off his outer shirt, leaving it hanging from the doorframe. He then grabbed Dana by the arms and looked her in the eyes.
âJules went outside to have sex with her boyfriend and was killed. Weâre a group of young people on vacation in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. Doors here open and close for no fucking reason, including the trapdoor to a mysterious basement full of random creepy shit like torture diaries with Latin incantations in them. And now there are zombies that throw our friendâs head at us, and Curtâs telling us to split up. I think itâs an appropriate fucking comparison, Dana.â
Dana seemed to consider this for a moment, and then she was wrenching out of his grip, dropping to her knees in the corner, and vomiting on the floor. Marty winced and knelt beside her, pulling her hair back with one hand and rubbing her shoulder with the other.
âAww, geez, Dana, Iâm sorry.â Her only response was to heave again, but she didnât pull away from his hand. After a few moments, her shudders stilled, and she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
âNo, no, youâre right. It makes no fucking sense, but youâre right. God, what the hell?!â
Marty had no real response to this, so he merely released her hair and slid his hand under her elbow to help her to her feet. Her freed curls swung into her face, and she flicked one away with a huff. Noticing this, Marty held up a finger and went over to his bag. After a moment of rummaging, he produced a black hair band, which he quickly handed over.
âHere. Donât want your hair getting in your eyes while youâre slaying zombies.â Dana took the offered accessory with a small smile and tugged her hair back into a tight ponytail. She paused for a moment in thought, and before she could even ask, he was giving her a second tie, which she used to fashion the ponytail into a bun.
âYeah, why do girls in horror movies just leave their hair down the whole time? It gets in the way constantly,â she pondered as she worked; Marty merely shrugged. âAnd why do you even have these?â The woman inquired as she let her hands fall. He flashed her a grin.
âFor one, theyâre useful to have, especially for someone with my⌠horticultural habits. For another, Jules was always in need of one, and she always forgot to supply them for herself. I got rather accustomed to carrying them around.â Only after he finished the statement did he remember the fate of said friend, and his smile disappeared in an instant. For a moment, they had been interacting so much like normal that he had been able to forget about the grisly last several minutes.
Brought back to himself, he also realized that they had never barricaded the window as they had come in to do, and he threw himself at the opening. In his haste, his hip bumped into his bedside table, and the lamp on it crashed to the ground in a smattering of ceramic.
âDo we have anything to block the opening?â He demanded as he pulled the glass pane shut.  Receiving no answer, he turned. âDana! Do we-â the sight of her kneeling on the floor by the lamp stopped him. âAre you okay? I mean- stupid question- of course youâre not, but⌠what are you doing?â He spotted blood on her hands, but he wasnât sure if it was from catching Julesâs head earlier or if she had cut herself on the shards from the lamp. And she still hadnât responded to him. âDana, I think we have bigger things to worry about than a broken lamp on the floor; you can leave it. Seriously, itâs okay. ...Dana. ...Dana?â
Marty swept away some ceramic with his foot to create a space and then knelt down beside her. Wordlessly, she handed him something she had pulled from the mess. He was momentarily confused before he recognized that it wasnât just part of the wiring for the lamp. Hoping that his next assessment was wrong, he began turning the thing over in his hands, but the more he did so, the more he became convinced that he was correct. The implications of that were almost more than he could handle in the moment, and he instinctively reached for the drugs in his pocket before Dana interrupted him.
âIs thatâŚâ
âItâs a camera,â he confirmed. She gripped his arm far too tightly as panic began flashing across her face.
âBut why?â
â...I donât know.â
Dana leapt to her feet, snatching the offending object from his hands, and began yanking on it frantically. The wire stretched its way across the floor and up the corner of the wall as she pulled, and Marty realized that she was hyperventilating with tears streaming down her face. He quickly got to his feet and reached for her, only to receive an errant elbow to the chest as her movements became more erratic. Winded, he stumbled back a bit before stepping toward her more cautiously.
âDana, stop. Dana, you gotta calm down, please.â She showed no sign of having heard him. Hoping to distract her, he tried a different tact: âDana, we have to cover the window!â This got a flinch out of the redhead, and she stumbled away from said window, dropping the camera as she did.
âOh, God, Marty, what the hell is going on?!â She cried as she fell against him. He caught her carefully, feeling just how hard she was shaking in the process, and led her toward his bed. She sat down hard without prompting, but when he tried to pull away to barricade the window, she grabbed onto his arm again. âMarty, why is there a camera?! Who- what- watching⌠I just donât understand!â She began trembling even harder, and the tears and hyperventilation showed no signs of stopping. Abruptly, she pulled her knees in toward her chest without releasing him. âOh, God, Iâm feeling sick again. Marty, what do we do?!â
âHey, Dana, breathe.â She took a shuddering breath and let it out as he tugged her knees away with his free hand. âGood. Now, here. I know you donât usually smoke, but this will help, I promise. Itâll make you less nauseous, and itâll calm you down.â When Dana gave no indication of arguing, Marty reached behind him toward his dresser and grabbed a small joint off of the top. Lighting it and taking a short puff, both to get it going and because he wasnât exactly serene himself, he offered it to her.
She took a deep drag and let it out after a moment with a small cough. Marty nodded encouragingly, and she took another few before handing it back.
âThank you, Marty,â she murmured as she wiped her tears. âI justâŚâ
âHey, no, I get it. This is fucking terrifying, and I donât blame you for freaking. Youâre just really smart, and I need your head in the game here.â With this, Dana squared her shoulders, and her shakes slowed nearly to a stop.
âAlright. So, camera. Someone is watching. Why? Did they know this was going to happen?â Her voice was almost businesslike now as she rose and headed back to the corner.
âPuppeteers,â Marty muttered as something clicked in his brain again. Before he could explore it, though, he heard a small metallic creaking noise, followed by a hiss. This also seemed vaguely familiar, and after a moment, he placed it with Curtâs sudden change of mind.
âDana, do you hear that?â As he looked around, a vent caught his eye. âI swear that was closed before.â Confused, he looked to Dana, only to see her swaying in place as her eyes glazed over. âDana, get away from the vent!â He shouted as understanding washed over him. Thinking quickly, he yanked the neck of his long-sleeved shirt over his mouth and nose as he rushed to his friend. She stuttered to meet him, and he pulled her cardigan up to cover hers as well.
âMarty, the window,â she slurred. When he only stared at her in confusion, she tugged weakly at his sleeve. âOpen the window. Air.â
âSee? Really smart.â She smiled weakly at him as he threw the window back open, and they both breathed in the clean air through their impromptu masks.
A few moments later, Marty heard the hissing stop, but it was quickly followed by the disembodied voice he had heard a few times that night: âGet away from the window, Dana.â
âWhat the fuck?â Marty whipped around, looking yet again for the source, but Dana didnât appear to hear it.
âGet away from the window, Dana,â came the whisper again. She still didnât flinch, but she did go to step back.
âDana, stop!â Marty barked, still looking around. She stared at him strangely, but she obeyed. âDo you not hear that?â
âHear what, Marty?â She replied as he swung the window shut again. He got the sense that if they hadnât seen zombies and found an unexplained camera, she would have been telling him he was too high again.
âThe voice. I heard it before, in the basement, and again in here earlier. I couldnât understand it then.â
âUnderstand what? What voice? Whatâs it saying?â That almost pitying look had vanished, and she was looking frightened again.
âHow do they know our names? Or at least yours...â Now he was thinking out loud, but this was enough for Dana. She broke out in a cold sweat and began surveying the room in a near panic.
âGet away from the window, Dana!â The whisper was more commanding this time, and Dana let out a small cry of alarm as she heard it.
âMarty, whatâs happening?â She staggered away from the window in terror, scuttling backward on her hands when she fell.
âI donât know, but something is majorly wrong here,â he asserted as he turned to follow her.
As if to underline his point, a zombie smashed the glass of the unattended window, making both adults scream. Putrid arms wrapped around Martyâs waist and began dragging him out of the room as Dana shrieked his name.
OooOooOooOooO (In the Control Room)
Hadley let out a sigh of relief as the Fool was pulled from the room, kicking and screaming, by Judah Buckner.
âFinally,â he groaned.
âThat was too close,â Sitterson agreed as they watched Marty trip and fall to the ground outside the cabin, only to be dragged away by his zombified captor.
âWell, then why didnât you let me gas them in the first place? A little Cortisol and theyâd have been out like a light, problem solved,â Hadley pointed out with a pout.
âHe was giving her some of his weed, which was supposed to have a cognitive suppressant in it. Should have made them both dumber; he is supposed to be the Fool, after all. Then we could have just let them be for a bit and dealt with the Athlete and the Scholar first. And besides, you gassed them afterward, and look how well that worked.â
âThatâs what we get for trusting the chem department, huh, Lin?â Hadley grumbled. âA girl vomits once and panics a little, and her system processes or removes most of the drugs? What damn good does that do?â
âOh, shit, speaking of which,â Sitterson interrupted. âLook.â He swung the small screen back toward Hadley, showcasing Dana taking a running leap out the window.
âFuck, she canât run around out there; the Virgin has to be protected until last, and there are three others left!â Spotting a small fountain of blood on another camera that tracked with where Judah had been dragging Marty, he amended, âWell, two.â
âAlright, chem, you better get it right this time,â Sitterson growled into the mic as Hadley moved to the lever system. His partner pulled the lever for the Fool with a bit more relish than was strictly professional and grinned as the resulting earthquake knocked Dana to the ground. She got to her feet, though, and she moved to keep running.
âChem, I need more Cortisol in sector 7 around the Virgin. Knock her out,â Sitterson instructed as Hadley returned to his seat. Unfortunately, the sprayers that were usually used for pheromone mists didnât mask the drug the way the indoor ones did, and the gas rose in a visible cloud, but it did its job. Dana stumbled to a halt after a few moments and then dropped to the moss in a heap. With a small high five, the two men turned their attention back to the other two sacrifices. The Virgin would be safe there for a while, and they had a job to do.
OooOooOooOooO
A.N. A big thank you to itslaurenmae for their help on this chapter and for being generally so supportive.
#The Cabin in the Woods#Marty Mikalski#Dana Polk#Marty/Dana#Blood#Horror#I'd end the world to let you live just a few minutes longer#Fanfiction#Cabin in the Woods#Please let me know what you think#I've been stressing about this for weeks#A Little Puppet Dance#Feel free to reblog
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Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda.
Pairing: Deadpool x Daughter!Reader, Peter Parker x Reader
Word Count:Â 1,945
Summary: Wade didnât want to ruin his kid's night with her âboyfriend,â but he didnât have much of a choice, she had a right to know.
A Note: i really donât think this is all that different from the original piece i wrote back in june 2018. you canât fix what ainât broke? (rereading and editing this, i just realized how close to home this hits right now)
Warnings: a bunch of angst that you probably havenât seen me write before, major canon character death, cursing, crying, all the sad stuff with a bit of jokes at the end. (i donât know if itâs considered a fourth wall break, but thereâs a reference to your local writer behind the screen)
masterlist
Wade had been sitting in the apartment for a few hours now. He was soaking wet in his shirt and sweats, holding onto Vanessaâs limp, cold body like his life depended on it. He was still covered in the blood of the douchebag that pulled the trigger.
He was still sobbing on and off with the door still broken open and the rain pouring through the open window.
If Vanessa were still alive, she would be huffing at Wade for doing such a thing and then heâd make a joke and then theyâd make their way to the bed and celebrate their anniversary as planned.
Of all the days he fucking finished his duties early and had idiots follow him back home, it had to be today.
Y/N had made plans with her friend (more like boyfriend, Wade and Vanessa knew something was up) Peter just so they could celebrate.. accordingly.
How the hell was Wade supposed to walk over to the Parkerâs apartment complex in Queens and tell his little girl her mother was dead?
How the hell was he supposed to act like a normal human being when he was covered in two different peoples blood right now?
And more importantly, how was he going to pull himself together and get up from the rug where he sat with Vanessa in his soaking wet arms?
Wade took a deep breath, pressing a kiss to Vanessaâs pale forehead before gently laying her body back where it landed what seemed like hours ago now. He slowly stood up, looking at the clock above their bed, seeing it only being almost nine o'clock at night.
Wade just shook his head and moved to his closet, throwing on a hoodie and a pair of jeans to not only to warm up and hide all of the blood seeping through the cloth fabric, but also so he can get his kid. Poor girl deserves to know what the fuck happened.
Queens was only an hour walk from their complex. The Parkerâs was then 20 minutes from that point on. That put Wade in front of the complex doors at exactly 10:30 pm. He pulled his hood off as he walked into the warm lobby, ignoring the gasps from the people in the room as he made his way to the elevator.
He either had a lot of blood on his face, or he still looks like the worldâs worst burn victim.
Heâll take either for 200, Alex.
He pressed the seventh floor button once he stepped foot into the elevator. Thankfully, he was completely alone in the metal box and started to try and think of how the fuck he was going to do this.
What do you say to the second best thing thatâs happened in your life that the first best thing thatâs happened in your life is fucking dead?
The elevator opened up too soon to his liking. It wasnât slow enough for him to get his shit together and man up enough to march down the hall to get to the Parkerâs apartment. Either way, his brain was on autopilot as he walked down the long hall, having dropped her off here earlier in the day before he went to do his shit.
He made the first left he saw prior to earlier in the day, stopping at the second door on the left.
He had hoped Peter wouldnât answer the door. Y/N didnât need her happiness to be ruined in this moment. If May answered again, thatâd be a blessing within itself.
Wade took a deep, deep breath, trying to get his thoughts together before he removed his right hand from his hoodie pockets and knocked on the door firmly.
He placed his hand back in the pocket and waited. It seemed like an eternity before he saw Mayâs face contorting from sweet and kind to worried, already seeing Y/Nâs father here soon.
âHey, May. Uh, can I speak with Y/N?â Wade got out before May could ask anything. She was taken aback, his his lighthearted, joke filled tone from the day gone, riddled with sadness.
âOf course, Wade. Come in?â May said gently, opening the door a little wider for him to enter as she turned around to go get Y/N.
Wade slowly entered, closing the door gently behind him. He looked around the apartment, smiling very faintly. It looked cozy and like a home. Compared to the apartment that awaited for both Wade and Y/N, depending on her reaction.
He could hear laughter. It was a combination of Y/Nâs laughter mixed with Peterâs. His heart flew up into his throat practically at that.
Wadeâs mind slowly started going into panic mode.
He shouldnât have come, he would just ruin her night with her âheâs not my boyfriend, but if he would be his nickname would be honey bun because yes, dad, heâs that sweet.â
Wade heard May and Y/N conversing as she came from the hall from the far left of the door, Y/N freezing when she saw her father.
âDad? Whatâs going on? I thought youâd be with Mom tonight..?â She questioned softly, her head tilted as May sent Wade a sad smile, probably knowing something was wrong, before she went back to navigate her way to the kitchen, probably to occupy Peter so he didnât come out.
Y/Nâs tone sent a dagger through his heart. He couldnât break the news to her like this.Â
She was just a kid. His kid.Â
He didnât want her to turn out like him at any point in her life. He didnât want her to be without a mother. He didnât want any of this to be a reality but here we are-
âDad?â Y/N questioned again, carefully reaching a hand out to place on his arm as he just stared at her, the gears shifting around in his head.
Y/N carefully placed her other hand on his other arm to hold Wade steady as he swayed back and forth.
âSheâs gone.â Easy. Simple. Filled with all the pain in the world.
Y/N just rose a brow in concern and started to rub at the damp fabric clinging to her fatherâs arms.
âShe who? Mom? Did she go to the store after your rounds and hasnât come back yet? She probably stopped at that one shop you both love-â Y/N was cut off with Wadeâs harsh sigh before his hands went to rub at his eyes, ignoring the horrendous texture as his tears blurred his vision.
His heart couldnât take the pain it was going through. Well, technically, it could, but thatâs not the point.
Y/N was about to list off another thing that her mother could have gone before Wade finally spoke up.
âSweetheart, no.âÂ
It was quick and firm, which was the complete opposite of their father-daughter relationship.
Y/N was taken back and moved her hands from her fatherâs arms, slowly crossing her arms over her chest.
Wade took a moment to notice she was wearing some dumb shirt you could buy from a tourist place. It had a white base with a bright yellow taxi and the ugly letters âI survived my trip to New York!â on it smack dab in the middle.
She doesnât own that, does she?
His father instincts wanted to kick in and question whoâs shirt it was, but he held it back.
âThe drug lords I went after during rounds today.. they followed me back. I thought I had enough time to catch the bullet. I.. I thought I hit the fucker,â Wade spat, his voice faltering and cracking at the end of his sentence. Y/Nâs face went from confusion to sadness, finally understanding whatâs going on.
âIt hit your mother,â Wade finished. Rip it off like a bandaid.
âYouâre joking, right? This is a sick joke to scare me to leave the house, isnât it?â Y/N said slowly, her eyes starting to sting from the sudden tears filling her eyes.
Wade saw how her eyes glossed over.
He wanted to rip his heart out of his chest.
âI-I..â Wade sighed and looked down at his boots he pulled on. âI kinda wish it was, but itâs not.â
Wade heard Y/Nâs breath hitch before he let out a grunt the second she connected with his chest, her arms wrapped around his middle tightly.
His arms wrapped tightly around his daughterâs frame, finally lifting his head up to rest his chin on her head, his own eyes starting to gloss over.
The silence between them was filled with Y/Nâs pained sobs in his chest.
Wade really wanted to crack, but he had to be strong for his girl.
Eventually, Wade had moved his head from the top of his daughters and moved one hand that was around her to wipe his eyes which was when she looked up at him with bloodshot eyes, seeming somewhat recovered.
âW-What are we going to do?â She questioned suddenly, Wade now feeling how tight she was clinging to his hoodie.
He sniffled in response at first. What were they going to do?
âI donât know, sweetheart. I donât know,â He concluded finally, shocked his own voice was even steady in the first place.
The both of them started to sway slightly as Wade could hear footsteps coming from the kitchen now.
âI just wanted to tell you, you had a right to know. I plan on heading back and figuring out what to do with her body-â
âSheâs still in the apartment?!â Y/N whisper yelled, also hearing the footsteps as she ripped herself from her father's chest.
âWhat was I supposed to do?! Chuck her out the window with me when I chased down and killed the guy that shot her?â Wade hissed back before the footsteps stopped close to them.
âH-Hey, Mr. Wilson,â Peter said awkwardly, smiling shyly as he held two steaming mugs. Wade rose a brow as he looked at the boy, eyeing the mugs.
âHey, Peter.â Wade forced a smile at the teen before reluctantly letting Y/N go and let out a soft sigh.
Y/N was quick to pull herself from her fatherâs arms and walk over to her boyfriend, sniffling as she gave him a small smile before taking a mug of hot chocolate.
âThanks, Pete. Iâll be back in the kitchen in a sec, okay?â She said quickly, Peter giving her a reassuring smile and encouraging nod before he moved in to quickly kiss her cheek, awkwardly making his way back to the kitchen where his Aunt May resided.
Y/N turned back around to be met with Wadeâs look that definitely looked smug.
âSo you two are honey buns-â
âOh my God, shut up,â Y/N insisted harshly as she sipped her mug before placing it on a close by coffee table, Wade letting out a hoarse chuckle.
âTwo honey buns in one package? Thatâs a steal!â
Y/N let out a harsh sigh as a small smile grew on her face before moving back to wrap her arms around him and rest her head on his chest.
âYouâre lucky I canât think of a good come back,â Y/N mumbled Wade letting out a scoff.
âItâs just lazy writing on her end,â he reasoned, gently patting his daughterâs back before she moved her head slightly.
âWhoâs lazy writing?â
Wade just huffed and shook his head fondly, moving a hand to cup Y/Nâs cheek before dropping another small kiss to the middle of her forehead.
âDonât worry about it, sweetheart.â
#deadpool x daughter!reader#peter parker x reader#deadpool x reader#marvel imagine#marvel fanfiction#wade wilson x daughter!reader#wade wilson x reader#rachael writes
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Breakfast in Bed
A sequel to Home
Pairing: Gabriel x Winchester!sister reader Summary:  Gabriel starts his morning by savoring one of his favorite meals. You.  Written for:@spnkinkbingo Square Filled: Domestic Word Count: 1791 Tags/Warnings: Fluffy feels, oral sex (female receiving), pleasuring awake
Itâs amazing how you already know heâs not there in the space beside you. You donât even need to check, your arms heavy at your side as sleep keeps your thoughts slurring muzzy. Â
âBabe⌠whatârydo...?âÂ
Gabrielâs surprised you manage to get that many words out before you slip back out of consciousness, though he can feel the way some parts of your brain are beginning to shake off the fog at the light pressure his mouth leaves as he presses a series of kisses down the center of your body.Â
There isnât as much activity as he pushes your T-shirt up to your chest, exposing the softness of your stomach. Though, he aims to fix that, but before he does, he takes a moment to admire you, breath ghosting over you in warm, short waves.Â
Your skin, however, feels everything, from the sear of his fingers as he palms your waist to the gentle flick of his tongue, warm and wet along your hip. He can hear your nipples harden, cloth fibers giving the faintest of stretches as peaks form through your shirt. Â
He notes with pride the way goosebumps radiate from his touch, your brain cells firing in ways that suggest pleasure rather than alarm.Â
You draw the comforter up to your elbows, mistaking everything for a chill.Â
He smirks. "Can't have that, sweetheart."
His hands emerge from beneath the covers, gently cupping your breasts and drawing a breathy sigh from you. He loves every inch of your curves, how the lean hardness of your old life has faded beneath soft, well-nourished contours. He could spend hours appreciating them, but that's not on the menu for this morning.
His thumbs begins tracing a wide arc, starting at the edges of soft swells before moving toward the center. Round and round they go at a maddening pace, drawing your senses into awareness and making them stand on end despite the fact that you're still so very not awake. Â
Your body knows, a petulant whimper catching in your throat. Your need sparks; beautiful, fleeting hues across synapses that remind him of clusters of Christmas lights. You arch into his touch as he continues, feather light, drawing out the colors as he keeps himself just shy of reaching taut nubs.   Â
They never reach them, and the spectrum that flares when he pulls his hands from your chest resonates closer to frustration. Â
That almost rouses you. Definiately arouses as he listens to the cadence of your heart get a little faster, your blood rushing lower. Â
You mumble something that suspiciously sounds like dick, though itâs hard for him to tell. Â
His lips give a wide stretch before descending upon your naval, hands teasing along your waist. They hook beneath the band of your underwear, dragging it down as his fingertips drink in the smoothness of your skin. Â
Cotton whispers along your thighs which shift in response, and he leaves the garment bunched around your knees. He could just snap them away, but you donât like that.  You want everything to be as normal as possible, and thereâs something oddly rewarding to him about doing it all the âhardâ way. Â
Itâs been easier than he thought, living like a human rather than just pretending to be one. No magic snaps.  No shortcuts.  No mojo whatsoever (save the occasional indulgence in the bedroom), though he still doesnât understand the need to spend so much time away from you. Â
Sure, you both have a keener appreciate for the time together, but he would regardless, knowing that your lifespan will pass by him in the blink of an eye. Â
He hasnât told you that. Heâs not sure how to, because he knows how difficult it is for you already. You try so hard to keep your insecurities hidden, but he canât help but pick up on the questions that plague your mind late at night when you think heâs sleeping. Â
How long before my youth fades and I no longer catch his eye?
How long before the novelty wears off and he grows tired of me?Â
When will he realize he deserves so much more than I can give him?
He doesnât. If anything you deserve more, but he has yet to find a way to make you believe that. Â
But, most moments youâre happy. With him.  Together. And thatâs all that matters. Â
He brings his mouth down at the edge of your hip, smiling at the way you wriggle as he hits a sensitive spot. Heâs spent hours mapping them out, each one of them seared into his mind.  What really amazes him is the way youâve diligently memorized his as well, as much as you can anyway, given the limits of human cognition. Â
Heâs never met anyone whoâs so focused on him. On what he likes. His thoughts.  His feelings. Itâs like heâs as much your world as you are his, and he almost doesnât know what to do with that. Â
Pleasure, however, now thatâs an area he knows. Â
By the time heâs scraping his chin against your thigh heâs wearing a full on grin, the familiar tickle lighting up cells across your body and mind in ways heâs never seen with anyone else. Itâs like you recognize him on a whole other level. With every fiber of your being, you brighten to him and only him, whether or not youâre awake.Â
When his tastebuds hit your folds youâre aware enough to hum, and your sweet tang erupts across his awareness like the finest of nectars. Your legs part unconsciously as he tongues deeper, gliding along your slit to lap up the juices already gathering there before lifting higher. Â
It isnât until he reaches your clit that you finally float into consciousness, pleasure exploding across your neurons like fireworks in the night. Â
You gasp, hand shooting straight beneath the covers as your instincts immediately take over. A fullness spreads through his chest at the way your fingers simply slide through the tangle of curls at the back of his head, fondly stroking, when months ago, you would have wrenched him off you in panic.
âMmm,â your fingers tighten in his hair as you arch into him. âWhatcha doinâ down there?â
âJust having some breakfast in bed,â he purrs before getting back to business.Â
He knows what you like, working his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves as his hands reach back up to your breasts. Thereâs no teasing this time as his fingers head straight for pebbled peaks, brushing lightly to watch those scintillating colors burst into flames before he gives your nipples a light pinch. Â
âFuck, Gabe,â you groan, legs shifting as you try to shimmy your panties low enough to catch it with a foot. Â
He reaches down, assistance given in the quick snap of elastic. It draws a small white flicker of discomfort through your desire before quickly being drawn into it. Â
Your range of sexual appetites has been a pleasant surprise. You like roughness as much as tenderness, the day and mood determining where along the spectrum you lay. Right now, youâre happy to let him take the lead, knees eagerly falling open with their freedom as you wait for his next move. Â
âTake your shirt off,â he says. âI want to see you.â
You do, without hesitation, and before the garment even hits the floor he feels his chest stop moving. Â
It amazes him, how you're still able to do that. He's had many attractive paramours over the years, but looks have only held his interest for so long. Kali held his interest far longer than anyone, her tenacity reeling him back in every time he thought he might be ready to move on.
But you are different. As cliche as it sounds, you are the embodiment of beauty on every level possible, your mind and body lethal in their own right, but add your heart and soul to that mix and you are nothing short of stunning. Â
He can't imagine a time where you won't steal his breath or send a tremor of nerves dancing through his system. Â
âYouâre so fucking beautiful, you know that?â
âShut up."Â It's a knee jerk response, false irritation trying to cover the shy tiny tint that blossoms across your face and tugs at the edge of your lips.
You've gotten much better at accepting compliments from him, and he's noticed it's only in the moments you feel vulnerable that you revert to deflection.
"You're such a dork - stop looking at me.â
He wonders if you realize just how many places you blush when youâre embarrassed? Itâs not just your cheeks that get a dusting of pink, small rosy patches springing up across your chest and highlighting the tops of your breasts.
One day he'll find out just how many other shades he can paint your body on words and looks alone.
âSeriously, Gabe, if you don't get back to business, the only place you'll be dining this morning will be Louise's diner."
He holds back a chuckle, knowing his amusement would only rub salt into the rawness you feel beneath his gaze.
âSomebodyâs demanding before theyâve had their coffee."Â He infuses just enough sarcasm to toe the line of snarky, a place he finds you feel the safest when exposed.Â
"Yeah, wellâŚ" You begin talking as he settles between your legs, hands smoothing up the back of your thighs as he hooks your knees over his shoulders. Â
"You knew what you were getting into when you -- ohhh."
You groan as the flat of his tongue immediately finds that sensitive spot again, licking broad strokes in ways he knows gets your blood flowing. Â
âAh - You're too good at this."Â You throw your head back into your pillow, rocking yourself into his face.
He pauses, just to be a shit, his tongue freezing in place.
"Ith thah a complain'?" He smirks, watching the glow of vivid colors flare bright with burnt copper as he takes it another step further and withdraws his mouth. "Because if it is, you're welcome to--"
"Eat me, choir boy."Â You're only partially joking, fingers grasping strands of honey, tightening their grip before pushing him back into position.Â
This time he does chuckle, vibrations jolting your brain waves back to desire as he wisely doesn't argue. His goal isnât to tease you, for once.  Not much, anyway. Â
No, today is about savoring. You.  These simple moments where he can pleasure you awake in the comfort of a home youâve created together, a place where you can slip back into an endorphin-soaked haze without being interrupted while he whips you up an actual meal.Â
But first, he needs to finish his. After all, they say breakfast is the cornerstone of the day.
ALL the tags:
@girl-next-door-writesâ @fand0maniacâ @feelmyroarrrrââ @lucifer-in-leatherâ @blondecoffeecakeâ @tistaiâ @room-with-a-catâ @authoressskrâ @revwinchesterâ @flufy07â @tardis-is-mineâ @tangle-of-ivyâ @luciferseclipse @mrswhozeewhatsis @protectivedestiel â @angelofwinchester17 @phantomwarrior12 @jeanjeaniethings @wontlookaway @copperseraphim @fandomsrourlives @archangelgabriellives @shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mizzezm @disneymarina @zpandaqueen @idabbleincrazy @katekvnes @han68000 @brokencasbutt67-writer @crashdevlin @klinenovakwinchester @bofa-deans-nuts @sherlockedtash88 @lovelyhexbag
Gabe Squad:Â
@bloodstained-porcelain-dollââ @lacquelusterâ @baritonechick @samikittenâ â @kazosaâ @nobodys-baby-nowâ @acarpouschimericalâ â @cipherwheeldecoderâ â @megasimpleplan4everâ @azlinhâ â @fruitypieqââ â @koithingsâ @booknerd1324â @the-kryomancerâ @karichanarts @archangelashiah @calamity-chaos @erisunderthemoon @hankypranky @missihart23 @curious-trickster @gabegirrl86 @trickster-emissarie @sweetmisseddreams2002  @bun-dpdbny @greeneyedtrickster @marichromatic @ourloveisforthelovely @supernaturalways
@a-wing-and-a-pen
#gabriel x reader#gabriel#spnkinkbingo#spn fanfiction#spn fanfic#supernatural reader insert#spn reader insert#gabriel fanfic#gabriel oneshot#spn gabriel#rabbit writes
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Rodorah/Mothzilla AO3 fic
Sequel to this. You can read this as a stand-alone, but I suggest you read the prequel so youâre not too confused.
Half-arsed summary: so, in the prequel, a lot happened during the fight that challenged Sanâs perspective, and conflict brewed in him. He thought he wasnât too different from Mothra and Godzilla. Ichi was forced to decapitate San after he stopped he and Ni from killing Mothra three times, and he begged the two to listen to him. In this fic, Ichi and Ni panic when San isnât regenerating no matter how hard they try. Ichi and Niâs emotional states are explored, while Rodan laments what happened in the previous fight to Mothra and Godzilla, even though his devotion to Ghidorah borders on fanaticism.
When San musters the courage to regenerate, Ichi and Ni are overcome with emotion, but they are soon forced to confront Sanâs actions in Boston. The change in him is overwhelming, one Ichi and Ni canât understand.
X
Ni knew it.
He just knew it.
Ichi had always been incredibly perceptive, and his senses were far superior to Sanâs and his own, but Ni had always had a talent for intuition. For things one couldnât physically perceive. Things for which heâd normally have no evidence for, but he still had no doubts would happen, in one way or another.
This was the final proof.
He just knew this would happen.
He clenched his jaw so tightly he felt his teeth would shatter. Wrinkles formed around his brow as his frown deepened, and his worried, unblinking eyes wouldnât leave Ichi.
Ichiâs eyes were closed in a pronounced frown.
He was attempting to concentrate and remain calm as best he could, but he was clearly growing alarmed.
After several minutes, Ichi opened his eyes.
â⌠Well?â Ni asked.
Ichi stared ahead, at nothing in particular, really.
He seemed neutral, like he wasnât thinking or feeling anything in particular, really. But if Ni concentrated, heâd see it.
And he did see it.
Behind the façade, Ichi looked like heâd made a terrible realisation, and it was slowly sinking in.
His unblinking eyes darted to Ni.
Ni looked worried. Alarmed.
It was an expression Ichi had never seen in him, and the guilt it made him feel burned his insides.
âI canât do it,â he said.
Ni had no visible reaction. He didnât say anything either.
So, Ichi looked ahead again.
He didnât know how much time had passed when the shadow of a silhouette entered his field of vision. He turned his head slightly.
He found Niâs impossibly widened, dark and cold eyes looming over him.
It was a frightening expression that forced him to hold his breath.
âWhat do you mean you canât do it?â Ni asked coldly.
âWhat do you mean you canât do it, Ichi?â he reiterated. âStop fooling around,â his voice grew more belligerent.
Ichiâs mouth opened, but nothing came out.
He was taken aback when a pronounced scowl overcame Ni with a deep growl.
âStop fooling around and regenerate!â he demanded.
âIâŚâ Ichi frowned further as the realisation fully sank in. âI canât. I donât know why, I just⌠Iââ
Ichiâs eyes twitched when Ni head-butt him and pressed their foreheads together.
âWhat do you mean you canât!? You have to do it, Ichi! You have to bring San back!â
Ichiâs mouth opened in a frown. He had no idea what to say.
âYou have to bring our little brother back!â Ni shouted, growing less aggressive and more pleading.
âTch!â Ichi scowled, âIâm trying!â
âYouâre not trying hard enough!â Ni growled. âBring him back!â
Ichi felt like their heart was about to burst.
Thatâs when he perked up. He looked to the side, and Niâs instinctive reaction was to understand Ichi had sensed something.
They grew quiet as they heard wings a minute or so later, and Rodan landed before them.
He bowed.
âYour Highness,â he greeted.
Now aware that King Ghidorah liked to keep things short and to-the-point, Rodan didnât await a response.
âThe MUTO has emitted the call. She and Scylla have found an egg in what is supposedly called the Yunnan province. Itâs most likely Mothraâs.â
When Ghidorah had no visible reaction, Rodan grew a little nervous.
Especially when he realised the left head hadnât grown back yet.
â⌠We didnât want to do anything without your permission,â Rodan continued. âI can go there myself and destroy the egg before it hatches, or would you prefer to allow her to hatch so she can serve you?â
The anguish plaguing Rodanâs insides worsened by the silent second. Was it because he was aware heâd broken his orders, and silently feared for punishment?
He shivered for a short moment, both because of his lack of familiarity with this freezing weather as because of fear.
âI donât care,â Ichi said firmly. âWe already told you that youâre free to do as you please.â
Rodanâs eyes wavered.
That was true, but⌠he didnât want to do anything without his permission. Surely Ghidorah wouldâ
âRodan,â he said, and Rodan immediately looked at him with wide eyes.
The way his name left the Kingâs mouthâthe way his tongue tipped both syllables against his palate, the firmness and imperialness in his voice.
Rodan could feel his heart thumping.
It was the first time King Ghidorah had ever uttered his name, and it was regal.
âWe were clear in telling you youâre free to do as you please for now,â he reiterated.
Ni was entirely silent, as it was evidently Ichi who represented the two.
âDo not come to us unless called. I shall not repeat myself. You will not get another chance. Understand?â
Even though his life was being threatened, Rodan could do nothing but stare in awe.
This magnificent creature, this creature that held unrivalled power, asserted his warnings without violence or anger. He was clearly firm, he was clearly no non-sense, but never unnecessarily belligerent or violent.
Not only was Rodan being allowed to do as he pleased, he was not being punished for breaking his first order.
âDo what you want. Donât come to us unless we call you.â
His greatness was second to none.
âYes, sire,â he responded.
He was going to fly away, to relish to himself over his awe-inducing experience; until he saw the right headâs expression.
Clearly worried.
Clearly desperate.
The right head hadnât heard a single word the leader had said.
It took little to no time for Rodan to understand why.
Was his King hurting?
The possibility alone that this was the case tore something inside Rodan. A stinging feeling similar to the lacerations inflicted by the late Queen, except that this time it ran further, it hurt deeper.
Was it because the left head hadnât regenerated?
Was there something, anything Rodan could do?
He opened his mouth to say something, but it was forced shut the moment he took a look at the leader.
When he heard his rattling tail, Rodan understood.
His ideals were resolute and inflexible; his devotion bordered on fanaticism, but Rodan still held the instinctive, primal feeling of self-preservation.
He would not risk his life thoughtlessly.
He bowed again, and quickly took to the skies.
The moment Rodan was out of sight, the bravado completely vanished for Ichi.
He felt it at once; the overwhelming pain. It felt as though he were underwater, being dragged down by an impossibly heavy anvil.
The grief was so immense, Ichi felt his heart would burst.
It wasnât only because of his own pain.
The brothers shared a body; every organ, every vein, every pint of blood.
Their heart.
Their bond was undeniable, resolute and unbreakable; one brotherâs grief was the other twoâs.
Niâs grief was his own, and so it added to his own.
The guilt ate Ichi from the inside.
He didnât know what to say.
â⌠Iâm tired,â is all Ni said after much, lingering silence.
Ichi nodded silently. With a sharp inhale, Ni shifted and sought something that had been carefully placed behind the mountain; something that had been treated with tenderness and care, as though the slightest move would disintegrate it.
He gently, tenderly dragged Sanâs severed head.
He coiled around the snowy head; nuzzled it, cuddled it. He tried to give the insentient head warmth.
After killing Mothra and Godzilla, after the first regeneration attempt failed, Ni had been a quick thinker. He wasted no time to voice Ichi his suggestion, and Ichi wasted no time to accept it.
These cold, sub-zero temperatures had stopped the decomposition process altogether.
Ni closed his eyes with a distressed, pronounced frown as he cuddled Sanâs severed head.
Ichiâs lids dropped sadly as he observed Ni dose off.
âBrothers, please, just listen to me for a moment!â
âIf I had stoppedâŚâ he mumbled to himself, âthen the three of us wouldâve diedâŚâ
No, is what he immediately thought to himself.
Mothra and Godzilla had been as shocked as he and Ni had. They were also incredibly weakened. Mothraâs attacks wouldâve had no effect, and Godzilla couldnât even stand.
Now Iâm just making excuses, he smiled sadly to himself.
He shook off his undeniable exhaustion after several days of no sleep, and closed his eyes to start again.
Ichi attempted to concentrate as best as he could.
His cells worked hard. They used signalled pathways to speak amongst each other; they operated as a giant symphony, spreading all across the bloodstream to interact and function as an entire system.
He felt the familiar, ticklish sensation in his nether regions, but nothing happened.
He ignored the sickening throbbing inside his head, the throbbing that was a clear warning he was overexerting himself.
The blood trickling down his nose was ignored as well.
Until it happened.
As a primal, self-defence mechanism, his brain shut down.
The copious blood supply Ichi sent to the inner core of bone to begin the process of rebuilding the missing spine left his brain with little to no blood and oxygen.
As a defence-mechanism, his brain grabbed whatever blood and oxygen it could at the expense of Ichiâs bodily functions.
He completely passed out. The mountain vibrated, and piles of snow fell below when his head hit the rocks with a grating thud.
Read the rest on AO3 here.
#king ghidorah#ghidorah#godzilla#rodan#mothra#rodorah#mothzilla#godzilla kotm#ghidorah x rodan#godzilla x mothra
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Glitched: Part 16 - Curious I See
Authorâs Note: Oh my GAAAWWWWDDDDD!! FINALLY! I FUCKING LIVE!! Jesus FUCKING Christ! *dies*
How I absolutely LOATHED working on this chapter. Donât get me wrong, I like it and I wrote it because I felt it was necessary for the story, but jfc, I had such a difficult time writing it out the way I envisioned it in my head. I apologize for just how FUCKING long it took for me to get this out. Things came up in my life, itâs been ridiculously hot the last couple of weeks which naturally made me so hot that I didnât want to do anything. And Iâm going away the next few days, so I wanted to get this done before I leave. SO here it is! Hallelujah!Â
So I kind of lied, there is some horror in this chapter (surprise, surprise!). I didnât lie though about it being a âbreakâ chapter so donât worry - thereâs no angst or gore in this, so you can all relax and breathe (âcause believe me, youâre going to need it). Slight warning though: things tend to get quite creepy and uneasy in this chapter (what else is new?). A character is described as a corpse with gross descriptions.Â
Iâm taking a notebook with me while Iâm away so Iâll hopefully get started on Part 17.
Read this while listening to this playlist.
Enjoy the (final) break, guys! ;D
Close your eyes and open your mind. Take deep breaths â inhale and exhale slowlyâŚslowlyâŚslowlyâŚ
 Feel your body going slack, feel your muscles loosening and your nerves relaxing. Youâre beginning to feel tired but not sleepy, drifting into a state of unconsciousness but still very much awake. Youâre floating away into a sea of darkness, and yet you still have a grip on your body, you can feel it. Thereâs a comforting warmth blossoming in your chest and weaving throughout your veins, relieving you in knowing that youâre alright and your body â your physical body â isnât going anywhere.  You canât see anything, even when you open your eyes. Thereâs nothing but never-ending black â that is until there isnât.
 The void â an otherworldly dimension of space, a dream within a dream. A haven that you and you alone can escape to and warp to your exact liking, a place where you can become a god and shape your own world with a flick of the wrist and a snap of your fingers. A sanctuary for your inner personas to feel safe and content.  A mind palace where no one but you holds the power and control over everything.
 No one can be let in and no one can be let out.
 Because if something were to somehow find a way to get inside, thereâd be no telling what would happen.
 The darkness would probably no longer be your blanket of security. The warmth would probably be sucked from right out of your chest cavity. The air would probably become tainted with something so putrid youâd find yourself suffocating. Something twisted and unearthly would probably have its nails sunk deep into the roots of your safe place, creating its own diseased world. And you would probably find yourself rotting from the inside out, desperately trying to escape from the place you had built and known to have once been wonderful and welcoming.
 The worst part?
 You would probably not notice any of it until it was too late.
 * * * * *
 Why are you out here again?...Oh! Right! âCause you felt like something was wrong and you felt the need to go and see for yourself. Curse you and your instinctive need to make sure everythingâs okay!
 The lone hero was currently wandering around in the void â not his specific part of the void but the overall spacious part of the void that didnât belong to any particular ego. Given just how empty the space was, it was quite literally a never-ending black abyss; not a whole lot of light brightened the place, although there wasnât much to shed light on. And yet, within the darkness, there was beauty and a sense of comfort.
 The entire floor wasnât a floor at all, more so a continuous runway of water; illuminated by bare-branched neon trees rising tall on either side of the paths leading towards each individual egoâs world. Those trees weaved out up high into the shadows, a thick smog clouding the sky and dissipating the closer it reached the ground. Pulses of blinding shades of color originated from the roots and surged upward throughout the shimmering bark every couple of seconds. It was as though the energy and life of the trees were visible to the naked eye. The branches were so thin and veiny; anyone would surely do a double take and think they resembled nerves in the brain, what with the charges of power coursing through each branch.
 With each step the green-haired man took, the water beneath his feet rippled and produced a faint glow of ruby red, an indication of which ego was out and about. The color was always different, depending on which ego was taking a stroll through the void. Surprisingly, although the ground was completely made of water and appeared frighteningly deep, the man didnât sink. In fact, his feet werenât even getting wet; the clear liquid just ran off of his boots in droplets, not soaking into the material or leaving behind any evidence of him having walked along water. He strolled along the path, a faint trail of crimson following behind him as he took a look around at his surroundings. The neon trees, the darkness, the foggy haze, the pathways leading off to his friendsâ own sanctuaries. He hummed with thought, kicking at the ground, sending a splash of red forth.
 It was very rare for an ego to ever leave their little world and wander off into the open void. But every now and again, whether it was to go and visit one of their identical twins or to just get some fresh air and have some peace and quiet to think, theyâd find their way out into the dark.
 So what was the heroic Jackieboy Manâs reason for venturing off into the mystical?
 One moment the hero had been rescuing an older ladyâs poor cat from up high in a tree and the next he found himself getting hit with a gut-wrenching sense of dread, like something was very wrong. His first thought was that maybe someone was in need of a superhero somewhere in the city. Maybe someone had gotten hurt, maybe someone was being robbed, maybe someone was getting their car jacked. Anytime someone was in need of help or there was any danger, his superhero instincts would automatically kick in and give him a heads up. It had made sense for him to assume it was just his âspidey-senseâ notifying him of any nearby danger. But that was just the thing: there wasnât anyone in need of a hero during that time. He figured it was his brain tricking him and that he just desperately wanted to do more heroic things that day, so he brushed it off and went off on his merry way. It wasnât until later on when he strolled past the entrance to his world when he was once again overcome with a wrongful feeling. Chills creeped up along his spine and everything seemed to had gone eerily quiet around him as he stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the wormhole with perplexity but more so concern.
 Was something wrong outside of his world? Had something happened to one of the other egos? He had no idea, and even though he knew very well that Jack was always the first one to be notified of strange goings-on in the void, his instinct was to take immediate action and make sure things were okay. He was there when Jack had shown up, throat slit and choking on his own blood, and he had been there when Chase attempted suicide, lying in a dazed state and bleeding out. He may have been there, but he hadnât shown up in time. He hadnât saved them. He hadnât been the hero he was supposed to be. So if something was really wrong somewhere off in the void, then he was going to make sure he would make it in time before anyone would get hurt.
 He had left his world and stepped out into the open darkness, storming off and taking glances around to search for anything out of the ordinary. Everything seemed fine. The trees were all still glowing brightly in the multiple colors they always interchanged from. The ground was still wet and illuminated red with each step he took. He didnât see anyone rushing off to someone elseâs world out of panic. He didnât see Jack show up to see for himself what was going on. There didnât appear to be anything wrong with the void, nor were any of the other egos out in the open. And yet, that godawful cancer of dismay remained festering in his stomach, chewing at his insides piece by piece. Everything may have appeared normal, but he knew â he KNEW â something wasnât right.
 The masked hero slowed his pacing as he finally came to the crossroads, lining out the four pathways to each egoâs part of the void. Marvin the Magnificentâs carnival was straight ahead, a faint purple ring in the distance indicating where the entrance was. Off to his left, in the far vastness of space, a bright blue portal was seen â an entrance to Dr. Schneeplesteinâs world â and to his right, a loop of energetic orange, home to Chase Brody. He stopped in the center of the intersection, scanning the area around him for any sign of movement.
 âHello?â He called out into the never-ending blackness. âHello? Guys? Is everything alright?â
 He didnât receive any sort of response, nor did he manage to make out anyone come out of their worlds to see him. Nothing but eerie, dead silence filled the air, and it didnât make Jackieboy Man feel at ease in the slightest. He had called out for them â surely someone wouldâve heard him. Someone wouldâve come out to see what the commotion was about. And yet, there was nothing. He was alone in the dark, and that was something that never happened. Anytime heâd come out into the open for a stroll, he may have been alone, but he never truly felt alone. He knew the other egos were each there in the void with him, off doing their own individual things. He was never truly alone. But now â what with this harrowing leech wriggling through his insidesâŚ
 Slowly â and barely even there â thin, icy-cold digits creeped up along his shoulder blade.
 Jackie jolted and immediately spun around on his heel, sucking in a breath at only seeing eternal darkness in his wake. His eyes darted around the place wildly, searching for someone â anyone! He damn well knew he had felt someoneâs hand on his shoulder, so how come he didnât see anyone around?
 An unearthly chuckle of glee reverberated throughout the void, an even more mangled giggle overlapping it and coming from off in the deep black of space. Jackie jerked his head in the direction of where the giggle seemed to be originating from and cocked his head in slight confusion. It wasnât coming from any one of the egosâ worlds â he was staring directly out at pitch blackness, completely off the paths made for the egos to wander on.
 It was coming from out in an open, uncharted area of the void where no light was seen.
 He swallowed dryly and parted his lips, still staring at the shadows. âHello?â His voice echoed. âWhoâs there?â
 The silence returned for a moment or two with a vengeance, admittedly sending chills up and racing along his spine. He cautiously took a step forward, never taking his attention away from where he had heard the giggle.
 âHello?!â
 A shot of ice burned through his spine at feeling someone tap at his shoulder.
 Jackie gasped sharply and whirled around, wide-eyed and a tad bit shaken. No one was there. Another childish giggle sounded from the abyss before him, almost taunting him. He frowned, starting to get agitated. Was one of the others playing a trick on him? Because if so, it wasnât funny.
 âHey!â He shouted, immediately charging forward and leaping over the marked pathway; sprinting off in the direction of where the giggle had come from. He may not have seen anyone, but he had definitely felt someone touch him. He didnât feel so alone anymore â someone else was there in the open void with him and he was going to find them and put an end to this joke of theirsâ.
 Into the darkness he delved, the foggy breath of black ghosting over him and sucking him in the deeper he went. He couldnât see a thing at this point now, not an ounce of light shining through. If possible, it seemed to be getting even darker the further he ran. Whoever was hiding from him let out a mocking laugh, evidently deriving sheer amusement from the heroâs puzzlement and desperate need to find the culprit. Releasing an uneven breath and slowing himself down to a halt, Jackieboy Man scanned around him for any sign of movement. All he saw was black â pure, empty, cloak-of-the-Grim-Reaper black. Even when he reached his hand outward, he couldnât see it; it was one with the darkness. He searched all around him, turning around in circles until he was dizzy, but there wasnât any sign of light whatsoever. He couldnât see the neon trees branching upward towards the sky. He couldnât see the illuminated watery pathways. He couldnât see any of the portals to the egosâ homes. He saw absolutely nothing and it was only making the lingering feeling in his gut tighten to a sickeningly discomforting extent.
 Where were the paths and the trees? There was no way he had run off that far, and even if he had gone a pretty lengthy distance, he would still be able to see the lights from where he was. So why was everything gone? Why couldnât he see anything?
 An awful, cruel cackle resounded through the place, jabbing pins and needles into the heroâs back and making his heart give a jolt of worriment. His eyes darted around nervously, swallowing thickly as he took a couple of wary steps forward.
 âShow yourself!â He demanded, his words getting dragged out of him and floating through the endless space for god-knows-who to hear.
 He only received a stifling chuckle in response. Following it, an abundance of whispers began to blossom in the air, each distinct and faintly reaching out to him. He couldnât pinpoint what they were saying as there were too many voices speaking at once, but each one was using a haunting tone of voice that drove home what he feared: he was now in a dangerous situation and he needed to turn back NOW. Forget trying to find who was behind all of the taunting and teasing, he didnât feel safe â his wellbeing, as well as the safety of the egos, was his top priority at that moment.
 Jackie began to backtrack his steps, trying to recall the way he came, but how do you know youâre going in the right direction when you canât see a damn thing? A few of the whispers increased in loudness, wisps of them drifting right past his ears and feeding him the most chilling of things, they made him stop dead in his tracks. His eyes widened, a quivering breath getting wrenched out of him so violently he nearly doubled over.
 ââŚcouldnât save them.â
        ââŚdeadâŚâ
                âWhere were you?â
ââŚyou letâŚâ
                âWhy?â
        ââŚthem sufferâŚâ
âThe poor soulsâŚâ
                        ââŚyour friendsâŚâ
        âWhat kindâŚâ
âPleaseâŚâ
                                ââŚleft to rot.â
        âThe children wereâŚâ
                        âof hero are you?â
âHeâs comingâŚâ
                ââŚfor you.â
 A loud bubbly giggle belonging to a little girl rang out from behind the scared hero, causing him to jump and turn to very vaguely make out something deathly-white race by in the distance. With his poor heart feeling the effects of the festering cancer taking hold, Jackie strode forward. His breathing had picked up and alongside the whispers, all he could hear was the deafening beating of his heart pounding away at his ribcage. He clenched his fingers, balling them up into tight fists in an attempt to stave off his growing anxiety. He was a superhero, he didnât fear anything! He could take anything on with ease and was never one to back down on a challenge! He would NOT succumb to this scheming individualâs tricks of getting a rise out of him!
 âHello?â His voice echoed. âGuys, if this is some kind of prank, it isnât funny!â He snapped, a sliver of his building dread interlacing his words.
 Another sweet girlish giggle met his ears, his eyes staring straight ahead to find a small pale figure standing still, staring right back at him with what looked an awful lot like a large grin â he couldnât fully tell given how far away this individual was and with how dark it was. He squinted, trying to make out the figure more clearly. He licked his lips, hesitating to speak.
 âWho are you?â
 Now hold on, Jackie, think about this for a moment. A little girl was giggling a second ago and that looks a lot like a little girl. Who has a little girl? The doctor does, as does Chase. Maybe sheâs one of them. Maybe sheâs a part of â
 His thoughts got cut short when he noticed the figure begin to move, bee-lining straight for him. As the figure drew closer, Jackieboy Manâs vision started to clear up and the shapes and details of long dark hair and a cute floral dress could be made out. It was a little girl â probably four years old â one who gave off an eerily similar appearance as Dr. Schneeplesteinâs youngest daughter.
 âIlsa?â Jackie questioned. âWhat â What are you doing out here all alone?â
 The girl suddenly came to an abrupt stop, her head cocking to the left with a gross crack, sending prickles of unease throughout the green-haired heroâs veins. A bouncy laugh ruptured from her throat.
 âIâm not awone, silly! Iâm here with you!â She chirped happily.
 Jackie, gulping down the fear strangling his insides, warily approached her, shrinking down a bit as he moved, feeling the need to be on her level. As he did, the whispers grew louder as though they were warning him to stay away.
 âIlsa, you shouldnât be out here.â He coughed, nearly choking on his own breath.
 He felt himself struggling to breathe the closer he got to the girl â it felt like a giant weight was slowly but surely being pressed down on his chest, like some force was resisting him and not wanting him to go any further.
 âYour,â He cleared his throat, âY-Your mother is probably w-worried sick.â He coughed harshly and groaned out of discomfort.
 The air was growing revoltingly moist and putrid, so much so he nearly gagged. It was heavy and thick, he found himself gulping down breaths of air. He immediately regretted it. He wrinkled his nose in disgust as a waft of rot and decay unexpectedly attacked his senses. He couldnât begin to describe the smell. Rancid milk, moldy fruit, rotten eggs â none of that could beat this scent. His eyes screwed shut as he clasped a hand over his mouth, hunching over while holding his stomach. Bile flooded his throat and he had to stop for a moment to try and settle down his insides from coercing him into vomiting.
 âCome pway with me.â
 Jackie hesitantly pried an eye open to take a glance at the girl, who seemed to have closed a good distance between the two. She was still staring at him with cold eyes, lifting an arm and outstretching her hand palm up, almost as though she was expecting the ego to take it. However, there appeared to be something shiny glinting in her hand. Trembling all over from just how nerve-racked he was, as well as from his will power to stave off the need to hurl, the hero swallowed down the sick in his throat and struggled to keep himself upright. He gradually inched toward the child, still finding it quite hard to make out her face or the object in her hand. His heart was pummelling deep inside his chest, the roaring rush of blood racing in his ears making him feel all the more nauseous. It took him a prolonged moment to hear over the noise and make out a faint buzzing coming from around the girl. His brows furrowed in question at not only the sound but finally noticing something dripping from the girlâs hand, and at that moment, an overwhelming odor of iron overcame him. His eyes widened slightly, mouth hanging agape, about to ask what the hell she was holding.
 He didnât get to ask.
 His heart jolted painfully in his chest, nearly springing out of his chest cavity at hearing the evil laugh from earlier reverberate from behind him. The masked hero jumped and whirled around to see no one standing there. His breathing was very ragged now, coming and going in sharp gasps. He couldnât even get himself to speak!
 âCome pway with us, Mr. Jackieboy.â
 His face contorted with puzzlement at hearing what she said. He began to turn around to face her.
 âUs? What do you â AH!â He yelped in alarm, staggering backward at seeing her now standing only a few feet away from him.
 The buzzing was more audible, the insistent humming of flies invading his bothered ears. His face scrunched up out of disturbance at seeing an accumulation of flies swarming the girl, quite a few landing on her face and extended arm. Jackie opened his mouth, lips trembling and fighting to part so he could ask her what was going on. But his question got lodged in his throat as soon as she stepped forward, finally revealing herself and looking up at him with her milky-white eyes.
 âPway with us, Mr. Jackieboy.â She giggled, causing her deeply-cut decaying Glasgow smile to stretch impossibly wide; a fly squeezing out and taking flight. She held her hand out to him, causing the horrified hero to cast his gaze downward to find a bloodied scalpel in her palm.
 Jackieboy Manâs eyes bulged out of horror, a hand slapping over his gaping mouth. He shook his head, taking a hesitant step back.
 âOh my God â Oh my GOD! Ilsa, what ââ He lowered his hand, instantly surging forward and kneeling in front of the girl, grabbing her by the shoulders. His fingertips seemed to sink easily into her bare skin. It felt quite mushy and gross, her flesh and muscle horribly putrefied. The hero nearly choked on his own saliva. His eyes quickly raked over her small body before meeting her fogged-up stare. âwhat happened to you?! Where are your parentsâ?!â
 Ilsa dropped her hand at her side and chuckled lightly, shaking her head, her whole body moving with her. She lifted a finger to her lips.
 âShhh. I canât tell you. Itâs part of his game.â
 Jackieboy Manâs brows screwed together. âHis game? Who is he? Please, Ilsa. Come on, please tell me!â He tightened his grip on her, his finger slipping into her rotten meat with ease. âWhat is going on?!â
 The little girl sighed softly and glanced off into space, humming with thought for a drawn-out moment. She looked back at the frightened man before her and shrugged.
 âAlwight, I guess I can tell you a secret.â She blinked, tilting her head and leaning in a bit. âCan you keep a secret, Mr. Jackieboy?â
 He gave a nod in agreement. âYes, yes I can. Iâll definitely keep your secret.â He was getting desperate now. He wanted to hear what had happened to her and NEEDED to know about it. Whoever or whatever had done this to her was going to face justice immediately.
 Ilsa raised her hand, curling in all of her fingers except her pinky. âYou have to pinky pwomise.â
 He shifted his attention to her malformed finger, hooking his own with hersâ, a chill running down his spine at feeling it squish against his. He eyed her, nodding again. âI promise.â
 Ilsa took back her hand and smiled brightly, knowing fully well she was about to tell him something she wasnât supposed to.
 âYou canât find Mommy or Daddy because heâs alweady found them.â She said in a whisper, shaking her head. âAnd heâd be weally mad if you found them too.â
 Jackie jerked away from her, only becoming further confused and looking at her with dread settling deep into his nerves. âWho has found your parents, Ilsa? Did this guy do this to you?â
 There was a very long, increasingly uncomfortable interlude growing between the two, the masked man staring at Schneeplesteinâs daughter in the dying need for answers. He watched as the smile on her face stretched, the major cuts in either side of her mouth only making her once angelic face all the more grotesque. She giggled with delight and slowly tilted her head backward, staring up at the endless darkness above them. Jackie glanced at what she was looking at, seeing nothing but black.
 âWhat? Whatâs so funny â why are you laughing?â He asked, shaking her shoulders gently before releasing his hold on her.
 Ilsa giggled once more, acting as though someone or something was communicating with her â something that only she could hear. And it was with that realization that Jackieboy Man cautiously began to rise to his feet and step back away from her.
 âHeâs here now, Mr. Jackieboy.â The little girl beamed.
 From the darkness, a few feet above her, a set of piercing neon-green eyes sliced through the black, shooting fear directly into the now-quivering heroâs poor heart. A soft hiss slithered through the dead air, accompanied with a cringe-worthy crack of the entityâs neck; its eyes now boring into his on an angle. Jackieâs breathes were starting to come out panicked and raspy, instantly taking a few more steps back. Ilsa lowered her head and looked back out at her favorite hero, crudely cut-up smile on her face.
 âHe wants to pway with you now.â She giggled with delight.
 A pair of black hands with elongated fingers curled over her shoulders possessively as another hiss came from the creature behind her. The demonic, sinister laugh Jackieboy Man had heard earlier erupted in the room all around them, and that was all it took. He instantly began running backward, wanting to be as far away from her as possible, his wide-eyes fixed on whatever was staring at him.
 Ilsa didnât move from where she was; she remained standing there, still staring at him with a glazed-over expression and holding the bloody scalpel down at her side. It took Jackie what felt like ages until he tore his gaze away from her and that thing, laboured breaths of panic expelling from him as he rushed to get away from Schneeplesteinâs corpse-of-a-daughter. He bolted through the eternal darkness, hearing the whispers whine and moan, black sinister tendrils lashing out and attempting to claw at his arms and legs. He had no idea where he was going, but he needed to get out of here, he NEEDED to get out of here, HE NEEDED TO â
 The green-haired hero ran smackdab into someone, a dull ache pulsing through his body at the collision. He felt a set of hands grasp his shoulders and gently stop him, holding him a good distance away. However, he was so shaken up from what heâd seen a minute ago that his entire body tensed up all over at being touched by some unknown thing. And not being able to see who or what it was, he immediately started swatting at the thingâs arms, wriggling in its grip.
 âLet go of me! Let go of me, goddamn it!â He shouted, making attempts at escaping the entityâs hold. âIâll break your arm, I swear to God, Iâll do it! Iâll â !â
 âWhoa, whoa, whoa! Jackie, stop! Stop! Itâs me!â
 With a blink of his eyes, the hero broke out of his terror-induced state and found himself staring into the eyes of his creator, Jack. The Irishman was lightly holding him by the shoulders, astonishment and concern gleaming in his cerulean eyes. He looked genuinely unsettled by the man in red. Jackie blinked rapidly out of stunned bewilderment, taking anxious glances over his shoulder to see if the decaying reanimated corpse of Ilsa was still there, standing in the distance, waiting for him to âplayâ with the entity speaking to her. She wasnât anywhere in sight, nor were the set of green eyes. In fact, when the masked hero turned back to Jack, it took him some time to even recognize where he was.
 He was out by the crossroads again, standing on the watered pathway with the trees glowing bright on either side.
 His brows knitted together as his eyes took in his surroundings. What the hell had happened? He had just been out in the far off reaches of the void â places no one had ventured off into â and he had experienced what he could only call a living nightmare. Everything had felt so incredibly real. The mocking giggles, the haunting whispers, the stomach-churning stench of death, the feeling of being watched, the dead-alive mutilated cadaver of his friendâs daughter. He couldnât get any of it out of his head. Jack stood there, not taking his hands off of the egoâs shoulders, still looking at him worriedly.
 âJackie?â He asked softly, not wanting to upset him in anyway.
 The hero flinched at suddenly hearing his name, his attention immediately shifting back to the YouTuber, eyes blown wide with fright. Jack bent his head down a tad bit, searching the masked manâs eyes for understanding, hoping he recognized him.
 âWhatâs wrong?â He once again used a gentle tone of voice, nearly whispering.
 Jackie continued to stare at him with a hybrid of perplexity and fear for a drawn-out minute. He shook his head, taking glances over his shoulder again.
 âIâŚI-I donâtâŚI donât understand.â He stuttered, having a tough time getting out the words he wanted to say. âI-I wasâŚSh-She was there. I saw her and the way she looked, the-the way sheâŚâ A whine of distress slipped out of him before groaning out of annoyance for not making clear sense. âI saw her! I know what I saw â it was all dark and she ââ
 âShe?â Jack interjected, tilting his head out of confusion. âWhat did you see, Jackie? Tell me.â
 Jackie stopped his babbling and shifted his attention back onto his creator, staring at him, taking note of just how puzzled and bothered the man appeared to be. He licked his lips, hesitating to ask.
 âYouâŚYou didnâtâŚYou didnât see her?â He took another glance over his shoulder, pointing out in the direction of where he had run off. âShe was somewhere in there! Ilsa was in there, and she-she was undead, and there was someâŚsome thing there with her, and ââ
 âWhoa, wait, hold on. Ilsa? Henrikâs daughter?â Jack asked, looking at the ego puzzlement.
 Jackieboy Man nodded, still taking worrisome glances over his shoulder. âYeah, I saw her out there, but Jack, she ââ
 The Irishman shook his head. âButâŚBut thatâs not possible. No one from any one of your guysâ worlds can come wandering about out here in the open â you know that. Only you four came come out here.â
 âI know, but I swear, Jack, I saw her. I know I saw her.â
 Jack shook his head slightly. âJackie, IâŚI donât know what to tell you. I donât know what you think you saw, but I didnât see anything.  I just got here a moment ago, and within a minute of my arrival, you suddenly ran into me and started hitting me, freaking out and threatening to break my arm.â He said bewilderedly.
��It was Jackieâs turn to be stricken with major confusion. âWhat?â He blinked, turning to look back out at the eternal darkness of the void. âButâŚBut I was out thereâŚI know I was.â He whispered to himself out of thought. He looked back at Jack to see the man staring at him with uncertainty along with concern.
 âJackie, whatâs going on? Are you feeling alright?â He moved forward to feel Jackieboy Manâs forehead. He hummed. âIt doesnât feel like youâre running a fever.â
 Jackie groaned and grabbed Jackâs hand, pulling it away from his head. He shook his head. âIâŚI donât know. Maybe itâs my âspidey-senseâ getting the better of me. I justâŚâ He sighed with exhaustion, âI just thought that maybe something was wrong out here, thatâs all. I guess I wanted some more action â more adventure â and came out here in search of it, I donât know.â
 The Irishman was still looking at him doubtfully. âYou sure? Because you seemed extremely disturbed a moment ago. I know youâve got your superhero instincts set to a high alert level and all, but I ââ
 Jackieâs eyes shot up to meet his. âIâll be fine, Jack.â He shrugged. âMaybeâŚMaybe I need to try and distract myself with other things, you know? Get some hobbies â do some things that arenât hero related. Change things up a bit and not let the adrenaline and need to prove myself get in the way too much.â
 Jack searched his eyes, trying to determine if the ego was telling the truth and would, indeed, be alright. After a good long minute of going over everything that had happened and what Jackie had said, he saw through the façade and noticed how the hero was keeping something from him. He was chewing on his lip and continuously looking around as though he was expecting to get jumped by something at any given moment. Jackâs eyes narrowed.
 âThereâs something else bothering youâŚWhat is it?â He took a look past Jackieâs shoulder, seeing nothing but pure blackness. âIs it involving what you saw?â
 Jackie didnât reply, not instantly anyway. He was on edge, the things he had seen and heard repeatedly tormenting his mind to the point he wanted to curl into a ball. His fingers clenched into tight fists, his nails digging into his palms through the fabric of his suit. He bit his bottom lip deeply, almost to the point of cutting it, hesitant to give an answer.
 âJackâŚnothing can get into the voidâŚright?â His gaze slowly glided back to his creator, trepidation hanging off of each word that slide off of his tongue.
 Jack blinked, having not really expected the question. He shook his head. âRight, nothing but me can come and go from here.â He frowned. âWhy do you ask?â
 Jackie stepped closer, a hybrid of worry and suspicion upon his face. âIâŚI think thereâs something wrong with the void.â
 His creatorâs brows rose up into his hairline. âWhat makes you think that? If there was something wrong with the void, Jackie, I would be the first to know about it, believe me.â
 The masked hero huffed. âI know, I know â and I believe you. But something doesnât feel right to me. All afternoon, Iâve gotten nothing but bad vibes, and when I stepped out here to investigate, those vibes grew a lot worse.â He eyed the green-haired man as he motioned out to the egosâ portals. âI even called out to everyone, asking if everything was alright, but no one answered me back.â He scoffed. âHell, no one even came out to see what the fuss was about.â
 This got Jackâs immediate attention, if his eyes widening a tad bit was anything to go off of. âNo one responded? No one?â
 Jackie shook his head slowly, eyes firmly fixed onto the Irishman. Jack tore his gaze away, staring off at each portal with concern as Jackie continued.
 âI know youâre not sick, Jack, and if something was troubling you, youâd tell us immediately, so I know that if something is in fact wrong here, it canât be because of you.â He exhaled unevenly, taking an anxious look off to his left, spotting the circling blue ring to Dr. Schneeplesteinâs home. âThing isâŚafter everything I just went through...Iâm beginning to feel like something else is in here, with us, and my first guess is that it wants to bring harm to the good doctor.â He turned his attention back to his creator.
 The Irishman seemed to tense up a bit only to relax almost instantly, turning his head to look at the ego with wonder. He raised a brow. âHow would anything, aside from me, manage to get in here, Jackie? And if something were here, how is it you could sense it before me? And why would it target Henrik first out of all of us?â
 Something was beginning to feel off yet again â Jackieboy Man could sense it. His heart was constricting tightly in his chest and the cancerous leech of warning and dismay heâd felt earlier on had returned, biting at his insides insistently to the point it was nearly driving him mad. There was something about Jack that wasnât sitting right with him. He couldnât exactly put his finger on it, but the way the man was acting â the way he was responding, the way he was asking questions â none of it felt comforting. In a situation like this, the Jack he knew would surely try to put his mind at ease, heâd listen to what he had to say and fully recognize just how bothered the ego was. And he most certainly would be concerned about the other egosâ wellbeing after everything Jackie had said. The Irishman would NOT simply brush off his paranoia and retort back with questions about his suspicions like what he was doing now. His questions may have seemed logical and genuinely laced with worry, but with the way his gut was twisting into one tight knot after another, Jackieboy Man KNEW something wasnât right with his creator. Either he was hiding somethingâŚor maybeâŚ
 Jackie licked his lips, telling himself to remain calm and not bombard the Irishman with questions. âI donât know how itâd get in hereâŚbut maybe I sensed it first,â Because youâre not really Jack, âbecause my âspider-senseâ kicked in and you were probably busy with something.â He took a brief glance back at the entrance to the good doctorâs home. âAs for why itâd target Dr. Schneeplestein firstâŚâ His gaze slid back to his supposed creator, âheâs a doctorâŚhe helps people, like meâŚHeâs a necessity in this voidâŚIf he goes down, then the rest of us would end up going down with him, one by one. You take out the medic and the soldiers are left to fend for themselves.â
 He swore for one fleeting moment he had gotten a brief glimpse of a smirk tugging at the corner of Jackâs lips, one eye twitching almost like he was holding himself back from saying or doing something. It made the hairs on Jackieâs neck stand up on end, only giving him all the more reason to be suspicious of who he was currently talking to. He swallowed and turned, eyeing Schneeplesteinâs portal.
 âI should go check on him, make sure everything is alright.â He moved to step forward, about to storm off to the doctorâs home.
 âNow hold on a minute.â An arm lunged out and grasped the heroâs wrist, stopping him from proceeding any further. Jackie gave him a questionable look. âIâll go.â
 The heroâs heart gave a fierce jolt in his chest, not comfortable with the idea of Jack going in there to check on his friend. Stay calm, stay calm, stay calmâŚ
 âJack, Iâm worried about him, okay? I have about as much right as you do to go in there and make sure the manâs fine.â
 âI understand that, but Jackie, itâs my job â my sole responsibility â to come and check up on you all every day and make sure each and every one of you is happy, and more importantly, safe and sound.â
 âYes, but ââ
 âJackie, just because youâre a hero, doesnât mean you have to be responsible for every single life here in the void. Thatâs my job, not yoursâ.â He stated calmly yet firmly. âI get how your instincts are telling you that you need to make sure everythingâs well, especially since it involves a close friend, but you shouldnât put that sort of stress on your shoulders.â
 He leaned in a patted the heroâs shoulder lightly, looking into his eyes and showing sincerity.
 âPlease. Go back to your world and resume your heroic duties there. Trust me enough to go and visit Henrik myself. Iâll go and see how heâs doing â hell, Iâll check up on the other two as well if itâll put you at ease. Iâll report back to you, I swear on my name.â
 That wasnât sincerity in his eyes, that wasnât even genuine kindness he was looking back at. Those blues eyes may have gave off the exact same look as Jackâs, but the heart and care was completely one-hundred percent gone and nonexistent. Whoever this was, they were straight up mocking the hero. Jackie stared at him for a dragged out minute, the cogs in his head turning, attempting to think of a plan. Finally, he gave a nod, tore his gaze away, and released a defeated sigh.
 âAlrightâŚAlright, fine, youâre right. I need to stop letting my ego get in the way.â He eyed him. âAnd I do trust you. You care for all of us just as much as we care for each other.â
 Jack gave a reassuring smile and began to move away from Jackie. âOf course. I created you guys, after all. Why wouldnât I care?â
 The masked man could barely breathe at this point what with how tight his chest felt. Those last few wordsâŚ
 Jack motioned for him to go on back to his part of the void as he slowly walked backward toward Schneeplesteinâs portal. âGo on. Go back home. Iâll check back in with you within the hour, I swear it.â He beamed warmly before spinning on his heel, nearing the blue ring. âIâm sure everythingâs alright. Knowing him, heâs probably just busy.â He scoffed. âMaybe heâs working things out with his family, who knows?â He stepped into the ring and with that, he was gone.
 A vivid flash of Ilsaâs reanimated rotting corpse with her mangled face burst through the heroâs mind and he cringed violently, clenching his eyes shut in an attempt to block out the image. Inhaling and exhaling deeply to steady his poor nerves, the quivering Jackieboy Man reopened his eyes, his attention set on the open blackness of the void â the unmarked area for which he knew he had ventured out into moments ago.
 He knew what he had seen, he knew that something was here in the void and whatever it was was lurking within the depths of this world. The man he had been speaking with before â he may have looked and sounded like Jack but his overall demeanor was unnervingly questionable. He seemed to come off as knowing something Jackie didnât and it was racking the poor heroâs body with apprehension. If he was Jack, someone or something mustâve done something to him. But if it wasnât JackâŚ
 Answers. He needed answers. And he needed them now.
 Glancing out at the entrance to the doctorâs home for a split second before returning his attention to the darkness, the masked ego stood up straight, sucked in his one and only breath of bravery, and stormed off into the endless shadows of nightmares.
 Jack had left to check up on Schneeplestein and was most likely going to check in on Marvin and Chase afterwards as well. Jackieboy Man had about no more than an hour to search for proof of what he feared â one hour for him to be the hero everyone knew him to be.
 Only one hour to wander in the dark. And only one fear he honest-to-god hope wasnât true.
Part 15 - Good Puppet
Part 17 - Do You Really Like Him That Much?
Authorâs Note: No more breaks ;)
@gridhorizon @jse-fandom-protection-squad @septic-possessed @septic-fallen @butterlover328 @steffid101 @sketchy-scribs-n-doods @no-strings-puppet @haveaverynicetime @golden-eyed-guardians @fear-is-nameless @nightmarewolf133 @maybekatie @jack-a-yote @lil-gib @aeoix @lemonofweirdness @jaysflight @vity-dream @thatdorkcaci @jacksinsanity @silvadraconis @adreamoverlife @viostormcaller @wingsofthefierydragonheart
#glitched#jacksepticeye#jacksepticeye fanfiction#jacksepticeye fanfic#antisepticeye#antisepticeye fanfiction#antisepticeye fanfic#jackieboy man#jackieboy man fanfiction#septic egos#horror#creepy#dark
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The Merge [3] - Sweet Pea
Part 1 Part 2Â Part 3Â Part 4
Paring:Â Sweet Pea x Reader
Genre:Â angst | AU
Word Count: 2,649
Part [3] Warning:Â Violence, Swearing.
Part [3] Brief:Â â In which the silver moon was high in the sky giving off the only light over Riverdale, apart from the lampposts whose rays died inches from the dirty tungsten bulbs, and Sweet Pea held a rage the power of a wildfire, you could practically see the flames roaring in his eyes, ready to ignite anything that he came in contact with. We learn [y/n] is an enigma - not like that of books where words are so plainly written out and flow from page to page, but of books torn, frayed, and indecipherable.â
Masterlist
[y/n] was currently lounging around with youngest Cooper just like old times;
[y/n] admired Bettyâs room.
Her room was like a princess wonderland. The walls were a baby pink that pulsed in the light, sprinkled with various pictures, mostly of friends and a few celebrities, [y/n] noticed she still kept the montage they made together of them since they were 6 up to the age of 14. Her comforter was pulled over her bed. It was messy as they both laied on it together, this resulted in lumps of varying sizes and shapes to form on the comforter.
A desk sat in one corner, littered with wadded up pieces of paper and pens. A few shelves were pushed against the walls and filled with books. Some books sat on the floor in front of the shelves. How does Betty manage to make a mess of books look like they are perfectly placed? [y/n] will always wonder.Â
"Simple, I heard the devil call out my name" [y/n] said in response to Betty's question;
"Why did you leave Riverdale two years ago? you just got up and left, it broke my heartâ.
Betty's eyes shifted to the side and they soon became glazed with a glassy layer of tears. As she blinked, they dripped from her eyelids and slid down her cheeks. She bit her lip tightly in attempt to hide any sound that wanted to escape from her mouth; my heart sank.
Seeing Betty like this really broke my heart, all I want to do is protect her, thatâs one reason why I left in the first place.
[y/n] whipped the tears from Betty's eyes.
"Betty.." [y/n] cooed,
"I'm back now and I'm staying, trust me, its like everyone born in this town in bound forever to it".
Betty accepted that response, however [y/n] didn't want anymore questions around why she left, so she changed the subject.
"Betty.. Chic seems nice.. Considering his current situation, I mean I can understand why he is a bit crude, he just reconnected with the family that gave him up, but your dad, he seems to hate him?" I inquired, really curious to why this is.
Betty shook her head "[y/n] I have no idea, mum loves him already and if im honest its like shes trying to make up for all the years she lost with him, but I can't understand why dad doesn't want the same, its like-" Betty was cut off by her mum entering the room with a huge smile.
"[y/n] its getting late, are you going to stay over?" Alice asked politely.
I always loved Alice, she was like a second mother to me when I was little, if I wasn't at my house, I was at hers, if I wasn't eating at my house, she always made sure I was feed.
"Thatâs okay Alice, I should be getting back to my Grams now, I'm sure sheâs getting worried, iv been out all day" I refused politely much to Betty's dismay.
[y/n] hopped off Betty's bed and gave her a warm embrace and told her she'll see her tomorrow at school and made her way home.
[y/n] walked. She walked as her hair fluttered in the air, her clothes clung to her body, arms tightly wrapped around her. [y/n] felt cold wind stroking her skin, wanting to rip her clothes off her, as if she were its enemy.Â
She lifted her hands to the air to feel short bursts of rain.
As she walked she couldn't help but remember that cursed night, that night her family left for Greendale, [y/n] remembers this path, because she ran it that night, remembering passing Betty and Archie's house at an ungodly hour, never knowing when she'll see them again.
*Flashback*
Being chased was nothing like the movies. The stars look heroic, sexy and in command of the situation. Reality was far removed from that pretty version of running to save you skin.
I'd had no time to put on shoes or even grab my jacket, my parents pulled me from my bed whispering to me;
"It's no longer safe".
Panic took over my expression. I could only think one word.
Hunters.
They travel to innocent towns, looking to exterminate unwanted family's. At the time Riverdale was innocent.Â
Greendale on the other hand was not. It was known for its mystical nature. Hunters wouldnât dare enter, it was the only safe place for our kind.
The mundane fear the town over Sweet Water River, ever heard the saying;
'you should know better than to be caught in Greendale after midnight'
Usually you would run from the town, yet the crescents were sprinting towards it.
My souls crashing into the asphalt a few times before I transitioned to the balls of my feet. My face is flushed red and my expression is pure panic.
The crescents managed to make it into the forest, the moon was at its peak and spooky doesn't quite cover it and eerie is an understatement of this situation.
I've seen darkness before, the kind that makes this forest look like an old fashioned photograph, everything a shade of grey. This isn't like that. This is the darkness that robs you of your best sense and replaces it with a paralyzing fear.
I only know my eyes are still there because I can feel myself blink, still instinctively moisturizing the organs I have no current use for, since the darkness was blinding. The only way I am getting through these thick trees is the hand of my father pulling me along.
By my genes I am a predator, I have the front facing eyes and brain enough to hunt, but I feel like prey in this utter black.
The dawn is hours away and until that precious time I can only run for my life.Â
Hunters, they are skilled, deadly skilled, yet still mundane, and don't have the senses of my parents. Hence why they hunt us. And why they will always hunt us.
*End of flashback*
The memory sent shivers down [y/nâs] spine, as well the now pouring ice cold rain.
However the rain was the least of her problems in this moment, as she heard the revving up of motorcycles, she found herself in stumbling into a civil war.
There was stillness on both sides. If hatred was visible the air would have been scarlet.
Screams broke out. The men rushed forward, the attack was fierce and efficient.
[y/n] wasn't foreign to battles, she fought many herself, hence why she decided to climb the tree to her left and perch herself up on nearest branch. Ready to watch this turf war commence.
'This should be interesting' she entertained this thought.
As the fight was happening, [y/n] noticed a certain tall dark and handsome serpent throwing punches left and right.
'He is a good and confident fighter, its like he is trained.. Riverdale needs more of that' she smirked as she studied his fighting skills.Â
A certain red head crashed a punch into Sweet Pea's stomach, a sudden gush of pain jolted throughout Sweet Pea's body. His stomach ached, his arms lost tension and his legs began to weaken.
[Y/n] studied the look on his god like features, its like she could read him like a book.
"He will not get the better of me" his features read.
His tongue was soaked in the taste of blood. Bruised and winded, with a leg in agony, he grabbed the foot of the captain and pulled him to the ground. His head was pounding. He brought a fist to the captainâs face, snapping his nose into a state of grotesquerie.
It pained [y/n] to see Archie this way but she commended him, he grew up over this past two years.Â
'Least he is out here throwing elbows, thats my boy' she praised him internally.
"Listen here Northsider!" Sweet Pea demanded loud enough for the whole street to hear, as he man handled Archie's letterman collar.
"Normally I would give you mercy, however you think you can come to my house, stick a gun in my face, and there wouldn't be any payback? You're stupid. You blame the Northside for all the problems in this town! Watch us be declared innocent then see me come out fighting. I've thrown one punch at you and I already see you quiver. How weak you are? This isn't cruelty Andrews, this is justice. You cannot control your actions and so Iâll control you. Continue to fight me and you know I'll win, or maybe you like gambling? It's a sin, you know"
I sat there with my jaw dropped in utter shock at Sweet Pea's monologue.
'What the fuck have you been up to Archie, i thought he knew better than to mess with the Serpents.. Jesus' I internally battled whether to stop this, Archie can clearly fight but facts are facts, Sweet Pea could easy take him out.
Just as I was about to come down I heard my name being called.
"Veronica?" I whisper yelled.
She looked as though she had been running due to her flushed cheeks.
"What the hell are you doing here" She asked me wide eyed.
"Being entertained" I deadpanned.
"[y/n] thatâs Archie out there, with the serpents fighting, we need to stop this right now!" Veronica rushed towards the madness but I grabbed her by the arm to pull her back to me.
"Veronica no listen, they are hand to hand combat right now, running in there unarmed or just running straight into those muscle pigs will get you hurt" I warned, Betty informed me Archie and Veronica were an item, and I also know Archie.
He would be beside himself if she got hurt.
"Oh but sweet [y/n] I am armed" Veronica pulled out a gun out of her obsidian hooded cape.
[y/n] studied the gun, it was, small, discreet and deadly. The metal was cold in Veronica's hand, icy perhaps.
"Oh Lodge you really are a paradox but I am not going to ask why you have that right but If you want to stop this fight I have a plan".
"Shoot, what's the plan" Veronica was serious about stopping this fight.
"Thatâs exactly the plan, shoot" I deadpan once again.
"What! Are you crazy we can't just-" Veronica panics.
"No no not at them! up into the air! It's a small gun but trust me it will be loud enough to capture everyones attention, but once you do that, you have to run and get Archie out of here! if the cops aren't already on their way they will be now, then once youâre safe get rid of that fucking gun!" I carefully yet firmly explain to Veronica as i hold her shoulders, she is smart she understood every order and was on bored.
[y/n] gave Veronica a encouraging push.
Veronica ran between two cars, now her senses sharpened with adrenaline, Veronica held her breath, still straining to focus with every ounce of her concentration is focused on making this right. Cool air whispered through her body, she breathed in;
She fired.
Not too long before Veronica fired, [y/n] ran over to where the Serpents kept their motorbikes, knowing Sweet Pea will run this way out of instinct.
[y/n] was right, once that gun was fired he sprinted in her direction, she took this oppotunity to grab his arm and drag his weak state into her side.
"Listen to me, the cops are on their way, now unless you want to be hauled in by the police you should follow me, I'll help you" [y/n] said with utter seriousness.
In this short moment she wasn't admiring him from afar, she was inches away from his heated body. For a moment it shattered her to see his features this way, He's a bloody mess, nose bleeding and his right eye black and blue thanks to Archies left hook. His arms are wrapped round his guts like he's holding them in. he's beat so bad.
"We don't have all day!" [y/n] raised her voice in fear as she saw him contemplate.
"Why do you want to help me" he didn't say with a raised voice, it's like he's speaking while being choked, he must have taken a few hits at his throat while [y/n] was with Veronica.
"Remember when you saved me from falling on my ass? Yeah well lets call this me paying back my debt to you okay, now let me help you this time". [y/n] made her point, a broken chuckle escaped his busted lip.
The sirens were becoming louder the cops were coming, it was time to get going.
[y/n] snaked an arm around his waist, he slung an arm over her shoulder, instinctively, almost like it was a natural fit.
Their bodies were much different in height and stature, yet that didn't stop [y/n] from easing any type of pain she could.
My feet slip outwards on the wet autumn leaves as I round the corner, the cold night air shocking my throat and lungs as I inhale deeper, faster. It wasn't easy having Sweet Pea lean on me. Sweet Pea was 6'5 and very heavy in this weak state.Â
With each footfall a jarring pain shoots ankle to knee through Sweet Pea's legs, this was evident as I kept hearing him hiss.
"C'mon we can't slow down, lean on me more if you need to" [y/n] aided him with words.
He let out broken "mhm's" and âahâsâ in response. His mouth continuing to fill with an Iron taste as his teeth bit into his lips, clearly trying to stop himself from moaning in pain every second.
Due to this he kept spitting blood onto the ground.
"I'm sure you're leaving a trail with the amount of blood you're spitting" [y/n] sassed him.
"Well princess I can't swallow It can i? if I was Dracula, I would" He still managed to sass back even though he's seconds from passing out.
I'm confident I'll get Sweet Pea back to Grams safely, I know this estate better than they do, those cops are just pretty boys in uniform, shipped in from the nicer end of town. They're weighed down with guns, batons and electrical stun devices, all of them useless unless they get a clear shot, which they won't.
I can hear them panting with the effort from three hundred yards behind, that's how freakin' noisy and slow they are. Conditioning from a tread-mill with a stop-watch will never beat real-life training on the streets.
[y/n] knows that better than anyone, and if anyone can understand her street training, It would be Sweet Pea.
He wouldn't have trusted her with his life unless he had a feeling she knew what she was doing.
And Sweetâs had an intuition that was never wrong.
A/N: ahhh! This was so fun to right, I didn't want to end it! But I have to keep you guys wanting more hehe. How are you guy's enjoying so far? I'm mixing the current Riverdale storyline and the storyline from past episodes, so I hope you can understand that. And oooo what do you think about little miss crescents past? Â Feedback is always encouraged and welcomed :)
Be well x
Also should out to @sweetypeaimagines <3 go check out her work its so lovely! And she is so sweet! She deserves all the recognition she gets.
#Sweet Pea imagine#sweet pea x reader#sweet pea au#sweet pea smut#sweet pea#sweet pea fanfic#sweet pea riverdale#riverdale#riverdale imagine#sweet pea the merge#sweet pea headcanon
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The Rise Of The Lost IV
Bianca shivered in the cold confines of her cell. The surgery had been finished but no one had bothered to provide any pain relief. The girl was stuck laying on her stomach. Any form of movement brought tears to her eyes and tugged at the fragile stitches trailing her spine.
Bianca had no idea how long sheâd been unconscious for again. If it was her luck maybe a day. The soldier knew, however, that her pain would not stop Dr. Strauss from her work. There was always room for improvement, first the arm for aesthetic effect, then the spine, what else?
The grating of a lock releasing was followed by footsteps and a white lab coated individual. âWe have finishing touches, my dear.â
Bianca could only grunt out a response of pitiful protest.
âTo your feet soldier.â With a set of gloved hands Bianca was slung to a standing position. Pain mirroring the sensation of burning alive made her vision dot with white spots.
Biancaâs knees buckled and the doctor was forced to support most of her weight. The shuffle through dim lit hallways was slow. Spotting the same metal table as before sent a flurry of panic through the soldier, but she could not flee. Physically-it was impossible.
Swallowing the grief already settling in, Bianca followed the normal procedure. With extremely slow and gentle movements the girl stripped from her uniform. The air, cold to the skin, burned tender bits of unhealed flesh.
â â â
Bucky didnât get far when Siyanda caught up to him. âWhat do you want?â
âYou need tnis.â The teenager held up a small earpiece. âChances are she is being experimented on. If you interrupt the process it could cause permanent damage. I will have to walk you through the proper procedures to make sure you both make it out alive.â
Bucky contemplated the device before plucking it from Siyandaâs fingers. âHave someone ready to evacuate us.â
âUnderstood.â Siyanda nodded.
âChances are youâre going to need a good pilot.â Both of the heroes turned in surprise to see Orion dressed in a flight suit.
âYou are supposed to be in the infirmary.â Siyanda scowled.
âIâm tired of being pent up.â Orion shrugged. His slender fingers tugged anxiously at leather gloves. âBesides, my uncle rocket got experimented on without his consent. Iâm not letting that happen to anyone else. You tell me where I need to be and Iâll be there.â
â â â
Bucky was putting a lot of faith in two teenagers. To be honest it worried him, but there was little else to be done. Equipped with hidden weaponry the soldier set on a determined path through the New York streets.
Each second that passed was a longer opportunity for Bianca to slip through his grasp. He couldnât explain the protective instincts flaring in him. He had hardly talked to the girl and sheâd made it quite clear he was nothing more than a monster to her.
Yet, here he was. About to take on an unknown enemy by himself. Bucky supposed that no matter what, all fathers had some attachment to their children whether theyâd known them forever or not. Just looking at Bianca was like looking in a mirror and heâd be damned if Bianca was subjected to torture because of his own creation as a weapon.
â â â
The armory was non threatening on the outside but underneath was a ratâs maze of systems. Getting inside wasnât an issue-as an assassin Bucky knew every trick in the book when it came to accessing off limits places.
Beneath the armory floor (which now was a ceiling) Bucky began to traverse the cold and dank tunnels. Faint lights flickered overhead like clumsy beacons. The atmosphere was charged with tension despite the silence.
A scream shattered the air. Buckyâs first instinct was to cover his ears but his heart leapt in his throat and he began to run. Drawing the pistols from his belt his boots slammed heavily on the concrete.
A camera blinked to life as he emerged into a small chamber. Without another look the device was shot. It exploded in sparks and its guts hung out in fritzing wires. As soon as the camera died an alarm began to wail overhead.
âLooks like a party is about to happen.â Bucky grumbled. âI didnât know they celebrated fatherâs day.â
Setting his jaw the soldier tore on through the next passageway. Behind him were the sounds of heavy breathing and thick soled shoes slamming on the ground in a hungry pursuit. Metal arm skimming his belt, Bucky pulled out a metallic ring and pressed the center. Tossing it backwards over his head the tunnel flashed in violent blue as electricity incapacitated the enemy. âGotta thank Natasha for giving me a bunch of those.â
Another scream more pitiful than the last urged him forward. As Bucky rounded a corner-getting closer to the pleading cries an arm jutted outwards close lining him in the neck. If it hadnât been on sheer adrenaline Bucky would have landed flat, but he used the backwards momentum to turn his fall into a back flip.
Without hesitation Bucky fired at the body of his attacker sending them to the ground in a pool of their own blood.
â â â
âAlmost done.â Crowed the false motherly time of Doctor Strauss. Bianca wanted to scream at her that she was lying. Only the stupid muzzle wouldnât allow it. The metallic device only allowed screams to break through on occasion.
The sound of someone rushing down the opening up ahead brought the doctorâs attention. âAh, I see youâve arrived with the medical equipment.â
âLike hell I have.â The voice was gruff and the doctor froze in fear. Bianca located the intruder. Bucky stood with his gun raised and a look of murder on his face. Blood was splattered across his uniform and his eyes glared angrily at the doctor. âSiyanda!â
âCopy!â Siyanda replied.
âYouâre going to do everything I say doctor if you want to live.â Bucky studied the lab coated individual carefully. He could tell right away she valued herself too much to consider dying. âTell me exactly what youâve done.â
â â â
The process of pausing the final touches to the spinal implants was more painful than continuing on with the procedure. The doctorâs nerves made her hands shake and the retraction of pins and needles was flawed.
Each muffled and pained cry, each twitch of hurt, the labored breathing going suddenly still-it all made Bucky incredibly anxious. Was the doctor even following Siyandaâs instructions? Had Bucky relayed something wrong?
It was only when the restraints holding Bianca in place released that Bucky let out a sigh of relief. The doctor lowered the platform back down to floor level as if it were a table and Bucky was confronted with the true damage done to the girl.
Metallic ridges resembling the vertebra of a spine glinted in the low light. The metal panels shifted and moved in an identical manner to that of her arm and his. Her spine would be able to support an ungodly amount of weight and would be able to handle an unimaginable beating.
âWhat are your plans with her-â
âDo you know who I am?â Bucky questioned. He barely titled his head to look at the doctor and it was as if she noticed his true identity for the first time.
âOh-oh my-â Bucky nodded in recognition as if sheâd actually said his name.
âYou have two options doctor. The first, you come back with me and face legal repercussions. The second, I kill you right here and now-no one would be the wiser.â Bucky held the gun up to emphasize his point. âNo one even knows this place exists.â
The doctor didnât hesitate to select option one. Bucky scrounged up Biancaâs discarded clothes and returned to her side. She didnât move, didnât look at him, her eyes only stared into an emptiness he could not see. She was in shock.
Perhaps it was a mercy.
Bucky was able to dress her without her feeling an ounce of pain. He acted unknowingly like a father whose kid had fallen asleep in the car and had to be carried to bed before changing the childâs pajamas.
With ease the soldier scooped up the quivering girl covered in a light sheen of sweat. The doctor followed close behind. An anxious air radiated off of her and Bucky felt like yelling at her to cut the crap and keep it together. Instead he spoke to Siyanda, âTell the kid to pull the jet around.â
âCopy that.â Siyanda replied in her clipped and formal tone. The receiver crackled for a moment as the signal shifted.
âIâm outside.â The boyâs voice broke in. âMake it quick. They have some big guns out here.â
âItâs an armory.â Bucky snorted. âOf course they do. Donât worry itâs all been deactivated.â
âYeah, I sure hope so. Otherwise Iâm about to repeat my crash landing and I donât think Iâm waking up in a cushy hospital bed next to a synthetic green and red robot dad.â All Bucky could think was that Peter Parker would get an absolute kick out of this kid.
â â â
As promised, the jet was hovering tentatively outside with onlookers gawking in awe. Thankfully? They were so impressed by the machine they didnât notice Bucky or the doctor.
The asphalt grated against the soldierâs boots and the sound was somewhat comforting-until he heard the bang. One second the doctor was walking beside him, the next she was laying on the ground with her brains blown out.
âWhat the hell was that?â The kid cried.
âNo idea but we have to high tail it out of here.â Bucky felt some guilt at leaving the doctor there but he couldnât risk ending up like that as well. Once safely aboard Bucky settled Bianca on the medical cot. With some general knowledge of medical equipment Bucky began to monitor her vitals. They stabilized after a few IV drips.
Orion remained quiet the rest of the way back home and Bucky didnât mind it one bit. He sat with his hands clasped watching the poor haggard girl shake. She was curled into an extremely tight, protective ball. The fear etched on her face along with the pain made his stomach clench.
One fateful tear trailed down her cheek. Bucky reached out and his metal index finger skimmed lightly across her cheek to wipe it away.
#avengers#avengers next gen#captain america#steve rogers#black widow#natasha romanoff#romanogers#tony stark#iron man#pepperony#pepper potts#vision#vision/wanda#wanda maximoff#scarlet witch#thor#loki#loki laufeyson#clint barton#hawkeye#bucky barnes#bruce banner#hulk#peter parker#spiderman#wakanda#black panther#marvel#guardians of the galaxy#infinity war
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5 7 8 and 20
5:Â How has your musegrown since you first started playing them?
Athis core, he hasnât. I have really tried to stay true to the original character, sinceheâs not mine. But as far as things I have expanded upon that were neveraddressed or mentioned in the movies, I would say the biggest area of growthfor Ardeth has been actually paying attention to his own life, heh. That soundskinda silly, but the movie gives you the impression that being a Medjai isArdethâs whole life and he doesnât really do anything else. He doesnât ever haveany downtime, thereâs nothing said about his family, thereâs no talk about whathe wants for himself in his own life, itâs made to sound like he just works allthe time. Well thatâs because he does, haha. So one thing that Iâve been ableto do with him is explore his own wants and needs a bit through threads withships or ones that include downtime. As dedicated as Ardeth is to his veryimportant job, there is more to life than that, and it is perfectly okay forhim to have a balance between work and personal life. Thatâs one of the thingsI want him to learn as I write him, so as I do, he transitions from a workaholicyoung person mindset to a more mature and well-rounded person. He still has alot to learn, though, as he still overworks himself and is kindof one-track-mindedwith regard to the Medjai.
6:Â What motivates yourmuse to get up in the morning?
Thethought that if he doesnât get up and get his ass in gear fast and efficiently,someone somewhere might be seriously injured or even die. He cannot justifyslacking off or sleeping late when there are literally things ready to destroythe world, heh.
On ahappier note, in threads with ships and when he is with his family, Ardeth ismotivated to get up in the morning in order to spent time with his loveinterest or wife or children. Once he has a family of any kind, he becomes asdedicated to them as he is to his work and treasures the time he is able tospend with them.
7:Â Name a time whenyou really wanted to punch your muse.
Inthe canon, it was when he was on the bus and he just lost his shit and screamedat the mummy in his face haha. Like totally scared like a Chihuahua, arms up inthe air, doofy look on his face, screaming. And Iâm just like Ardy, sweetheart,you face things that can kill you on an almost daily basis, what are you evendoing right now? (sigh)
Asfar as things Iâve written for him, I sorta want to punch him in his threadwith @runawayagent because Charlotte hasgracefully accepted the fact that she has had past lives and is someone ofgreat importance, but Ardeth is completely resisting accepting the same. And thefact that he told Rick the exact same things in The Mummy Returns, that he needed to embrace the missing piece ofhis soul and if he does he can do anything, just makes it worse. Eventually hewill accept it, but right now as heâs dismissing the signs of it as coincidenceâ just like Rick did! â I kinda wanna punch him, haha.
20:Â Name a headcanonabout your muse you havenât said yet on this blog.
Since the events of The Mummy Returns, Ardeth has sufferedfrom sleep paralysis. Let me explain a littleabout what sleep paralysis is for those who arenât familiar with it.
Itâs asymptom of both anxiety and stress. Basically what sleep paralysis is, is whenthe brain is overactive during sleep and believes that it is awake when it isactually asleep. So the person is completely asleep, but the brain believesthat the person is awake, and therefore that they should be able to move,speak, see, and hear as normal. People with sleep paralysis often mistake the auditoryand visual hallucinations they experience for ghosts, demons, shadow people,aliens, astral projection, or near-death experiences. Really, though, all thatis happening is that, while asleep, your brain is interpreting what your sensesare responding to in a very primal way.
Common sleep paralysis experiencesinclude waking up in the middle of the night and not being able to move orspeak. Sometimes people feel like they are being choked or that something issitting on their chest. Usually a humanoid figure will be perceived as sittingon the personâs chest (this has happened to me) and/or chocking them, but alsoa common myth about cats (that they steal your breath at night) can beexplained by this. Other experiences include seeing a black shadow person inthe room, seeing a black dog or wolf, and hearing it growl (all of these havehappened to me). In actually, this can all be explained by human prey fears andprimal instincts as well as the biology of what occurs during sleep.
When weare asleep, our breathing becomes slower and shallower, so we donât takedeep breaths. We also donât move voluntarily, so we canât choose to move orspeak. The brain, which thinks itâs awake, becomes alarmed by the fact thathey, we canât move or cry for help right now. That panic response will thenresult in the brain trying to explain why this might be. Why canât we move orspeak? Oh, because someone is trying to choke us or is sitting on top of us andweighing us down. Why are we so afraid right now? Oh, because thereâs astranger in the room that wants to hurt us, or because there is an animal thatwants to eat us. The wolf is a very common predator fear for humans, and red isthe color of alarm. If weâre seeing a lot of red, it might be because thereâs alot of blood, so red brings about some amount of alarm in our subconsciousminds. Itâs why red is considered such a bold color in art or fashion, becausewe as humans key in on it very much.
So no, there arenât any demons or shadowpeople or shadow wolves in the room with glowing red eyes, itâs just your braintrying to explain why it canât do all the things it feels it should do becauseitâs actually asleep. Sometimes people will also claim that the shadow visitorswill moan and the wolves will growl. What that actually is, is you hearingyourself breathing or snoring in your sleep, and your brain interpreting it tobe a noise from something else.
Very religious peoplemight interpret these experiences as being visited and/or attacked by demons.Sci-fi nuts might think aliens visited them. And people who are verysuperstitious or who live in cultures where various types of predatory ghostsor nature spirits are considered to be real and common, they may think thatâswhat is visiting them. Really, all it is that you are overtired, overworked,worried about something, really stressed out, really upset, etc., and yourbrain is unable to completely rest during sleep. (For example, two out of thethree times it happened to me was in the months leading up to my Ph.D. defense.I was nervous out of my mind, haha, overworked, and not sleeping well to begin with, so itmakes sense.)
Sleep paralysis is notactually dangerous. Although you may feel like youâre dying, you arenât, andeven the visions and sensations you have of being crushed or choked are notreal, itâs just that you canât breathe as deeply as your brain thinks youshould be able to because youâre sleeping. Where sleep paralysis can become aproblem is if the person is very afraid of what is happening to the point wherethey will actually avoid sleep to keep it from happening. Or if itâs soterrifying that they jolt awake and then donât want to go back to sleep. Thatcan cause sleep deprivation if it occurs often enough. Most people that have itonly experience it once or a couple times maybe, but there are a few unluckypeople who have it very often, or some people may have it almost every nightuntil they can reduce the stress in their lives. And that is really the only âcureâfor sleep paralysis is to relax and reduce stress.
Now as far as what Ardethis experiencing, he has felt the crushing/choking sensation and he sees ashadow person either in his tent or near where heâs sleeping or actually on himtrying to kill him. He does not experience sleep paralysis every night, but itis maybe 2-4 times a week in the weeks after the events of The Mummy Returns. He has not told anyone about it, but he fears itmay either be something evil trying to influence him when he is vulnerable or aprophetic experience trying to warn him of a rising threat in the future.
In the case of sleepingbeside a ship, what she would see is maybe that he would twitch a little, hisbreathing might become irregular, and he might manage to mumble a bit, butotherwise, he would just look like heâs sleeping or maybe having a vivid dream.Of course, if he were to suddenly wake up with a start - and he does this oftenâ that might wake her up, heh.
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