#my issue is that i just don’t know how bugs would be in the wall. it’s a brick wall. this is a semidetached 70s house

[trustmypoison]

Good to Me

The three times that Mingyu regrets setting you up, and the one where he finally says something.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Mingyu’s a little bit of a jerk, but that’s it.

This is part of the Three Times series. This one is inspired by this reaction.

One

It’s Mingyu’s turn to set you up. You introduced him to a friend of yours last week and it went so well, no matter how short-lived it was, that you’re holding it against him now. You’re dressed to the nines for a night out at the club and Mingyu just rolls his eyes when you remind him what you’re looking for on the drive over. He knows what you’re looking for because he’s known you too long not to. 

He’s invited you to tag along with the infamous 97 line. You’ve met many of them before, but he just raises an eyebrow at you when you take one look at Jaehyun and say ‘I want him’. You follow it up with a shrug and say ‘he looks good as a blond’. 

After only a couple drinks, Mingyu doesn’t have to do a lot of work to set you up because Jaehyun is doing all of the work for him. He knows every single one of his friends would date you or hook up with you, and it’s just a matter of you picking out who. 

He doesn’t think much of it when you and Jaehyun disappear a little while later. He checks your location and you’re at home. Mingyu continues on with his night, business as usual. 

Two

Mingyu’s eyes bug out when you tell him you have a date. Not that it’s unheard of, but you’ve always said you don’t really want to be tied down. There’s something about the little twinkle in your eye that tells him this one might be different. 

“Jaehyun? Really? Was he that good?” Mingyu teases, but he’s a little confused at how his whole heart isn’t in the little jab. Particularly when your eyes shine a little brighter at the mention of his friend’s name. 

“I think I really like him, Mingyu. I want to see where this goes.”

You’re his best friend and he loves you and wants to see you happy - which you certainly look right now. So he does what any good best friend would do and waves you to your closet to help you figure out what to wear. He’s seen you in practically everything hanging in here so he takes charge. 

But there’s a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach with every date you go on over the course of the next couple weeks. It’s never been like this before, even when you have pursued someone with some seriousness. He shoves it back because he doesn’t know when this changed for him. 

He knows you’re attractive. He knows you’re smart. He knows you’re funny. He’s not stupid and any straight guy would be crazy to turn you down. When did he become one of those that would be crazy? One of those that would beg for a chance?

You don’t seem to notice how reserved he’s gotten about the topic of Jaehyun. You’re too in love already to notice anything else. 

Three

He’s out to lunch with a few 97 liners. Jaehyun is sitting across from him and he’s never wanted to hit his friend more, especially when you’re brought up. Jaehyun isn’t saying anything gross or mean, but the dopey smile on his face is driving Mingyu up the wall. 

“How does it feel to finally have a successful set up, Mingyu?” Eunwoo asks teasingly. They all know how you and Mingyu operate, and have occasionally begged to be on the receiving end of that set up. 

Mingyu shrugs noncommittally. “It’s whatever.”

“Ouch,” Jaehyun laughs. “I thought we were friends.”

“We are, but no one’s good enough for my best friend.” Mingyu knows the answer is brutal but it’s honest. 

“Maybe,” Jaehyun admits. “But things are going well.”

“For now,” Mingyu’s words have an unintended bite to it. 

Jaehyun looks like he’s getting a little offended. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that nothing lasts with her. I love her to death but she’s got more commitment issues than all of us combined.” 

The mood has shifted, and Eunwoo tries to recover the conversation, but Mingyu’s realized what he said, particularly how he said it, and he can practically see how the wheels are turning in Jaehyun’s head. He really, really hopes that it doesn’t come back to bite him in the ass later. 

Four

You’re crying. He can tell as soon as he answers the phone and it kind of feels like a gut punch. Then there’s an extra punch when you say, “How dare you, Kim Mingyu! Why would you say that to Jaehyun?” 

“Say what?” A lot of the sympathy for you dries up as soon as you mention Jaehyun, so he tries to play dumb. You sniffle and it makes him bite his tongue. 

“I’ll have you know he dumped me because he said it wouldn’t last - that you said nothing ever does with me. I thought we were friends, Mingyu. I thought you wanted me to be happy.” You’re sniffling double time now and he’s starting to feel guilty. Of course he wants you to be happy. 

“Are you home? I’ll come over with dinner and we can talk.” 

You scoff. “Don’t bother.” The dial tone echoes in his ears and he sighs. 

Wonwoo’s staring at him from the other side of the couch. “You’re an idiot.” 

Mingyu stammers. “You’re supposed to be supporting me. I didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“You sabotaged your best friend’s relationship. Is that not wrong?” 

“How do you even know that?” Mingyu cried. 

“Seokmin is in some of those group chats, remember? Now go apologize. Get some flowers and chocolate and just confess while you’re at it.” Wonwoo’s already got his face buried in his book again. Mingyu huffs and finally stands. 

You do not look pleased to see him. You even try to slam the door in his face. “Wait, wait, wait! Just let me explain.” 

“Explain what? Explain what you really think of me?” You’re sniffling again between the crack in the door as you glare. 

“It was mean of me to say, and I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.” It’s not like Mingyu to admit he’s wrong. You know that, which is why eventually you open the door and let him in. He puts everything down on the table and you give him a look. Sheepishly, he says, “I wasn’t sure how much of an apology you needed so I might have gone a little overboard.”

He lets you eat the chocolate first. It’s a comfort food and it’s only fair that he lets you get a head start. “I’m sorry,” he starts. 

“You said that,” you mumble through another bite. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, not how he took it anyway.”

“You said that too. You need to do better at this apology.”

“Fine.” He huffs, jumping up to pace. “I didn’t mean that you couldn’t commit, and of course I’d want you to be happy if you found the right person. But Jaehyun isn’t good enough for you. No one is, not even me. It’s never mattered because you don’t keep someone around often like you were with Jaehyun.” 

“You’re a dumbass, Kim Mingyu.”

He gasps. “How about an ‘I forgive you’? I’m trying to apologize and you insult me?”

“It’s true, you are a dumbass and you deserve to be called that. Do you ever wonder why I ask you to hook me up?” He stares dumbly at you and you keep going. “I do it so maybe you’ll be a little jealous and just admit that we have something.” You laugh humorlessly. “But it’s so painful sometimes because they’re never you and I still have to watch you go home with woman after woman.”

“Y/N, I don’t understand,” Mingyu stammers. 

“It’s fine, Mingyu. If you don’t feel the same, you can just say so.” You’ve deflated, playing with the wrapper from the chocolate. 

He marches over to you, pulling your chin up and slamming his lips onto yours. He feels you melt and it makes him melt too. When he pulls away, you’re pouting. “One more apology. I’m sorry it took me so long to catch up.”

“I forgive you.” You look like you’re thinking and then you smile. “What do you think about a change of plans on Friday?”

“Oh?” He asks, smiling lightly. You both usually go to the club when you can, but things have just changed at the snap of a finger. 

“How about a date instead?” 

“Sounds great. I’ll never step foot in a club again if you aren’t coming home with me.” 

You giggle and snort, “Yeah, okay,” but it doesn’t even occur to him to be offended by the jab. He feels like he’s floating now that the weight is off. “I don’t know, maybe we can stop by the club after dinner just to say we left together.”

“Sounds great,” he repeats, kissing you one more time. Or two. Or a dozen.

[temmtamm]

couldddd you POSSIBLY!.!!.!!! do a gravity falls yandere platonic ford which any age with a son!reader? Maybe around the age of 14 or younger. IF NOT THATS COMPLETELY FINE!

or if not that maybe a platonic yandere teen ford and stan with a younger brother?

Hii pookie!!

Friendly reminder once again, I do not do gender specific asks/headcanons!! Check my Gravity Falls ‘Asks Open’ post if anyone has any confusion on what I will/wont do!

As for a parental Ford…let’s see..

Well, at least in my opinion, Ford probably wouldn’t take that care of a child. He can barely take care of himself, let alone a kid.

But, if we are talking after the portal and everything, then I think that might be different.

Once again, Ford doesn’t have much of any parental bones in his body, but he does display more care and affection for the twins than I think he would’ve before the portal. I feel like he had matured and grown a lot through all the dimensions he had been in, and was able to recognize how poorly he was raised.

So, let’s say your home life wasn’t as great either, whether it be something as simple as your father being emotionally constipated, or your family just fights more than ‘normal’ ones, Ford WILL draw parallels to your home and his.

And Ford, after all he has learned, doesn’t want another person to wind up like him; craving validation and praise from others, to the point where he—I mean, you, seek it out from dangerous sources.

So…Ford starts hanging around you more.

He’s very…subtle with it. He knows kids, especially teenagers don’t care for adults getting all up in their business, so he tried to take it slow.

He didn’t expect how closed off you were, however. Your walls were completely up…So, he had to take some extra measures to get some details out of you.

Y’know the fun fact about all the weirdness in Grvaity Falls?? It means that there’s a lot of bugs that can repeat what it hears—So, it wasn’t that hard to sneak one of these copyroaches into your home and listen in on it repeating all that was heard in the home.

All the nasty fights, all the lonesome crying, all the times you’d gush to yourself or your friends on call about your special interests.

Don’t worry, he’s a good dad, he’ll let you keep SOME privacy…Just, a very, very, VERRYY small portion of it.

Slowly, you two start to bond more and more with him becoming more of a father figure to you with how he seems to always know what’s troubling you and the answers you need to hear in that moment…Not to mention, with him not being great with emotions, he tried to win your love with acts of service, such as making you dinner, saving the shoes you like on his DVR, and letting you spend the night at the shack when your parents fight.

Soon, he started to notice you staying at the shack more and more.

And more and more…He couldn’t help but grow discontent with the way your family treats you.

As said before, it doesn’t matter how small the issue is, if Ford had it his way, not a foul word should be spoken in your vicinity. Haven’t they already done enough damage to this child?? Do they want you to grow up in a broken home?!

In fact…He doesn’t think they’re fit to be parents. Not even in the slightest!!

He would be so much better…He’d actually take care of you, and he is smarter than any school they have been putting you in for that matter—All those kids are just so cruel to you, even if you don’t know it yet.

That…actually gives him an idea.

“So…anything happen at school today, champ?” Ford mumbled in his usual low, raspy voice as he scrubbed at the dishes in the sink, his apron still tied around his waist from cooking.

“Uh…Ford?” He didn’t even bat an eye or look up at you as you started to feel queasy, pushing the bowl of soup away from you at the dinner table. “I think the vegetables in this went bad…I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Ford just let out a good, hearty laugh. “Don’t be silly, I made it with all fresh ingredients. Have a look for yourself. Only the best for you.”

You could feel your stomach start to churn and growl, with the sight that greeted you when you looked down at your bowl not making you feel any better.

Was that an…eye?!

…

It’s the same shade as your mother’s.

“O-Oh god..” You bit down on your lip, bile starting to creep up in the back of your throat at the sight…and that’s when the melatonin had started to kick in, making your vision grow spotty. It was hard for Ford to find a dosage of that where it was not only over the required limit for a young teen, but also able to be hidden in food. He did it though. Better that than rat poison for his little baby.

“Aww, oh no? Are you having a stomach bug?? Don’t worry, I’ll make it all better.”

That’s the sick part. He genuinely believes it’s better locked in the shack for you. Why wouldn’t it be?? He’ll spoil you with all the care and love a child deserves, not to mention he will be sure to intellectually stimulate your brain as well.

You’ll see. He’ll be the perfect father for you.

[carlsangel]

I saw a small headcannon fic about this a while ago and it’s been bugging me ever since, teen pregnancy? Like how would the others react 😭 there would be a high chance of it happening but like what do they even do on that situation 😰!?!?

HELLOOOO oh my gosh i think about this sometimes and imma make this a drabble if you don’t mindddd!!

i think initially you’d obviously not get pregnant on purpose, probably some stupid decision you made on a whim just because teenagers are teenagers, they’re horny (most of the time) so they’re gonna have sex DUHH but anyway you’d sort of regret it in a way, knowing there’d be a chance yet not worrying too much. you don’t really think it’ll happen to you until it does kinda thing. you’ll miss your period, get worried and try to find a pregnancy test on a run, maybe a couple to make sure if they’re available. if you end up seriously being pregnant you have no idea how to tell carl initially. it’s something you’ve thought about before and worried about, mainly because you know his issues with his own mom giving birth and that’s just a large part of his trauma growing up.

naturally you put off telling him for a bit but you know you have to. you sit him down and it’s very harsh at first. like it’s incredibly awkward while he just sits there and processes it. you’d both sort of panic at what to do, he wouldn’t be as vocal about it and instead would let it bounce around the walls of his brain because he doesn’t always react out loud but he is terrified in his head. it’s not about being a father really, he knows the child itself would be raised by good people and he wouldn’t necessarily have an issue with that, it’s more of your health. having a child young, in the world you live in without modern medicine anymore it’s terrifying to think about. you’ll assure him however that there’s doctors at every settlement that could do everything in their power to help.

after a bit of you guys processing you’d want to tell others, well not want but HAVE to since that’s not really something you can hide. it’d start with rick and michonne. i’ll be so honest, they’re disappointed. like it’s just the fact that you’re aware of the dangers and such and you did it anyway, they’re going to be disappointed but they’re still going to help you. i think rick initially would be quite pissed but michonne is very rational and tries to help and he realizes that being pissed won’t change anything so he follows her lead. i think regarding the rest of the group, they’d be concerned for you for sure but i don’t think they’d really have a big say in it. like yeah they’d think “damn that’s a mistake” or “that’s gonna be rough” but either way that baby is going to be raised perfectly with the biggest family and tons of people who care about it.

me yapping i hope that explained sigh

[rainroses45]

Family Fun!

description: sam decides to visit his sister and turns out he has a better time there then at his own home…well motel technically

a/n: inspired by girl interrupted and my own personal experiences with mental health (miss maam has been numb with medication for four years) y'all wanted angst and sad shit AND IM FEEDING MY BABIES WHAT THEY WANT

song inspo: your love is my drug and mice on venus

warning: cursing, mental health issues, John being an asshat, psych ward and TRAUMA

The buzz of the door echoed through the empty lobby.

Nobody knew he was here, not even his own brother knew. His father was practically out of the question when it came to informing him of his where abouts.

It was twisted. It was mental. It was painted white for funerals. The nurse excoriated him down the hallway towards the empty room. As the door opened chills ran down his spine, no one questioned him - no one even asked him for a name. They just knew, they knew.

“You can wait here while I get her,” she smiled at him, her eyes telling a different story than the one on her lips.

Sam had snuck away from his brothers watch to visit his older sister. His father was off in another state killing some creature while counting the bottles of whiskey he could buy with a 50.

The sound of arguing over took his senses as he sat in the cold room. He watched from the tiny window two girls walking towards the door with a group of nurses.

“Im fucken sick Lily everybody knows that.” You smiled disgustingly at her. To in return she screamed out loud, “you’re just jealous- JEALOUS that i’m going to get out and you’ll be stuck here - alone and sick! Fucken sick!”

You just smiled as the door closed in her face, but not before blowing a kiss goodbye. “That is fucked up Lily, I love you for that.” The red headed girl to which he assumed was named Lily, gave his sister the bird before storming away from the door crying.

Sam stomach dropped as he watched this scene unfold in front of him. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe he should have forgotten about her, and all her memories, but he was her brother it was like a sirens call in a weird way. How could he abandon family when that’s all he has?

“Hello Sammy,” you pulled the plastic seat out. He noticed the bandages on your arms and the way your hair was thinning, but he still saw the sister he grew up with. The one with twin size braids and a gentle touch of nature. The one who fought against murders but became one herself.

“Hi.” He said awkwardly. His mind was running a thousand miles per hours, what was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to say? Why did he even come here?

“Is it the men behind me that are you making you feel uncomfortable dear,” you placed a hand on his leg, “gentlemen please leave the room I don’t need you causing anymore ruckus then you already do to me.” You ordered firmly.

“You know the rules-“ “Then chain me to the fucken wall or something I don’t need henchmen right now.” You stood up from the chair causing it to fall backwards. Sam flinched at the crashing of the seat but you seemed to overrule it as a ‘they problem’ rather than a ‘you problem’.

“Chop chop, I only got 28 minuets and 42- make that 41 seconds left.” You stuck your hands out in front of you. “Book me boys, but just not too rough I’m not really into BDSM unless you are then I’m fine with a little foreplay.” You grinned seductively as the two tall men dressed in all white groaned in annoyance.

The one to the right of you pulled out a pair of cuffs before pulling you to go get strapped down to the cement chair in the corner of the room. The other man pushed you into the chair holding you down as they cuffed your legs and hands together.

“I feel as snug as a bug in a rug, although a little butt cushion would be nice,” you shimmed in the cold seat, “I can feel my butt loosing its bounce.”

The men ignored your comments before turning over to your brother who now further away from you.

“Don’t listen to what she says, just don’t touch her or unlock her cuffs without us here.” One of them warned your brother to which he simply nodded at their instructions.

“Yes sir.” Sam said before dragging his seat a little closer to you. The men watched as this 14 year old boy sat on a plastic seat in a psych ward facility with his sister in chains - pathetically tragic.

Just before closing the door you could hear one of them whisper to the other, “such a good kid sucks that his sister is twisted.” You rolled your eyes, if only they knew the half of it.

“Welp Sammy boy now that thing one and thing two are gone, what brings you here?” You asked.

“I just wanted to visit you.” He softly responded, “I wanted to see how you were holding up.”

“Considering father dearest dropped me off at the looney bin 4 years ago and no one has visited me other than mom’s annoying ghost…I’m going to say I’m doing marvelous.” You smiled brightly with all your teeth visible for everyone to see. “How about you? Dad still be a fucking drunk?”

Sam laughed, for the first time in a long time he let out a laugh. It was contagious, it was innocent, it was fucking mental to the point you started laughing too.

You both spent a good five minutes laughing at nothing, only getting louder and louder after someone let out a piggy snort.

“That’s a dumb question, sir is practically close to liver failure.” Sam wiped the tears falling from his cheek after laughing so hard. “I mean the amount of times he searches the bottle for an extra drop is hilarious.”

“Oh that’s so pathetic I wish I could smash his brain to bits and pieces.” You let out a little chuckle. “Mom tried to defend his sorry ass but I always push away and threaten to escape and burn her bones.”

“Do you still see her?” Sam asked curiously but the nervousness inside him was threatening to spill out. “I mean if you’re okay with talking about it.”

“Yeah sure baby bro, I still see her selfish ass walking around the place haunting my very existence. She hates me but it’s a whole I get why situation.” You shrugged your shoulders, the harsh clank of the metal handcuffs against the seat echoed through the room. “Do you mind if I ask you a favor?” You asked.

Sam scared to use his voice only nodded back.

“Torch that bitches ashes again.” You whispered. “Make sure she doesn’t go back running to pop pop with words of rebellion I mean besides overdosing on happy pills she is always trying to get me to tickle with her pickle.”

“I’m going to be honest sis,” Sam scrunched up his face in confusion, “i don’t really know what you are talking about?”

“What can I say we all go mad in here,” you leaned back in the chair, allowing the cold material to cause goosebumps all over you.

“I wish I could bust you out of here but Dean and I can barely afford enough food for ourselves,” Sam looked down at his hands. Had his father decided on spending less on the bottle, maybe just maybe he would have a whole family again.

“It’s okay Sammy,” you smiled, “between you and me i’m ditching this shit show when you turn 18.”

Sam looked up surprised, “really?” He smiled. “You promise?!” You nodded in excitement. “I can finally be with you snoozebugs since dad won’t be in charge of us anymore.”

“This is great! I’ll tell Dean, we can come get you out and we can move away from here and-“ “Woah there baby bro, we can’t tell Dean yet.”

Sam stopped rambling and tilted his head in confusion, “what do you mean?”

“I mean Dean respects dad too much to not tattle on me.” You rolled your eyes, if you had been there you would have quickly unscrambled the assholes manipulative tacks on your younger brothers, but he clearly knew you would be a threat to his revenge mission and sent you away.

“Don’t worry Sam, I will come save you, I always do.”

And with that, the door roughly opened and Sam was being pulled away from you.

“You promise?!” He reached out for you, fighting against his older brother’s hold.

“I promise Sammy,” you nodded, “I love you.”

With the finale goodbye, Dean managed to pull his brother out of the room without any more struggle from him. Sam’s heart felt like it was beating a million miles per hour. He was going to be free. He was going to be loved. He was going to live.

He held on to that wish for years till his birthday finally came. He waited. And waited. And waited. But he never saw you again. It was a dream. A dream he soon realized where he had gone so mad he had conjured up a fake reality. You were dead. You had been dead. You were always dead.

[sprite-writes-fanfic]

Hello, I was wondering if you could do either 2003-2012 or bayverse headcanons or scenario with a crush reader that is emotionally a bit like Raphael? They are a bit more friendly than him and equally funny, kinda over independent on the “being taken care of” department, gets guilty and either lashes off or exclude themselves out of situations when they are anxious or feel overwhelmed by being “a problem”, doesn’t know how to lower their guard , neither believe they are worthy of someone’s heart, but deep inside they are affectionate and very loving (literally Raphael lol)

Hopefully this makes sense, if not (or if you don’t like the request) you can just ignore it

Thank you and have a good day / night

I will try my best anon! 🫡 Gonna do Bayverse because I feel like it would fit more for this scenario! (Also I fucking love the Bayverse turtles and I feel like I should start including them along with other turtle interpretations <3)

⚠️ Requests are closed, I am just putting out requests that I got before I closed them! Have 2 more to post out, posting another one today. Working on the other one currently as well. I will not do other requests until I’m off break, asks are still open though!

Lean On Me

🐢💙❤️Bayverse TMNT x Reader💜🧡🐢

Word Count: 692

CW: Gender neutral reader, referred mainly as ‘you’, probably not on-point with what anon wants but I tried my best TvT, sorry if this isn’t exactly what you asked for anon 🙏, fluff!

🐢💙Leonardo💙🐢

💙 You and Leo will probably bump heads quite a bit with this stubborn nature of ‘not needing help’. My dude will not stand for it, he will help and protect you, no if’s and’s or but’s. Anytime you try to exclude yourself, he’s joining you, doesn’t want you to feel alone ever.

💙 Anytime you lash out he just takes it. He literally fights with Raph all the time. Will let you cool down, give you much needed space, then ask you to meditate with him to help clear your mind of these negative emotions.

💙 Will sit down with you multiple times and have talks with you, each time finally getting closer and closer to how you feel. Has the patience of a god and will wait as long as he can, don’t test him he’ll wait as long as he can. When you finally open up about how you feel, he’s good at reassuring you that he’s doing this because he wants to and because he cares for you. Is sure to give you words of affirmation every day until you finally feel comfortable to bring your walls down with him. And trust me when I say he definitely mentally celebrates, many kisses were given the day you did.

🐢❤️Raphael❤️🐢

❤️ Raph gets it, he really does, you’re a little more friendlier than him, but when you lash out he sees himself in you. He goes to you a lot to help you talk, and sometimes in return he’ll talk to you too. Therapy for each other.

❤️ Probably the quickest of the brothers to work you through these issues. Again, he gets it because when he looks at you and how you act based on your emotions, he can only see himself, and he doesn’t want you to go through a lot of emotional pain he went through.

❤️ Big old cuddle bug with you, once both of your shells are broken through. Doesn’t really leave you alone often either so you don’t dwell on these negative thoughts and try to close yourself off again. Anxious thoughts can lead to overthinking and he knows that pretty well.

🐢💜Donatello💜🐢

💜 Donnie is a little awkward in the emotional department, (and I honestly say that for every Donnie, not always the best in the emotional-department), so he’s kinda having a hard time here. Doesn’t mean he isn’t trying though. He’s trying to give you the right words in order to help.

💜 But he does what he doesn’t usually do, listen. He’ll hear you out if you ever finally break down your walls, and he won’t interrupt because it’s important to him to know how you feel. He’ll work on solutions when you’re done.

💜 He really does care about you, but when it comes to being lashed out at or you trying to exclude yourself, it kinda catches him off guard. But he stays on it, he lives with Raph after all. Has pretty good patience with you and will keep that patience going for as long as he can push it. Overall, he does pretty well and has a lot of patience, and will put his gadgets to the side for you.

🐢🧡Michelangelo🧡🐢

🧡 Mikey’s happy that you’re more on the friendlier side at the very least, but he kinda flinches back at the times you lash out. But no worries, he’s persistent. Surprisingly goes for advice from his brothers and his father and actually listens.

🧡 Will approach you with this newfound information and tries to be as reassuring as possible with you, though please do forgive him when he messes up, he’s trying so hard for you. :(

🧡 Always by your side a lot of the time and is always reassuring, he’s getting you to do stuff with him to keep your mind off the ‘what if-’ not here honey, not gonna happen. He’s a lot of fun and with him it kinda makes your negative emotions and thoughts melt away before you're smiling and laughing with him. The day you finally cuddle and kiss him, I think he actually kinda starts to tear up. He’s proud of you, truly, and he’s happy that his Angelcakes is comfortable enough with him.

[arandomnerd810]

personal TADC character analysis

uh warning this is long lol

autism time let’s go (/not in a negative way i have autism) stretches hands * I’ll go in order of the character episodes cause why not we have it (see below) i’ll put periods but it will just be to make it more readable not to be intimidating lolll

btw im completely open to interpretations of characters changing throughout the series this is just for fun

Gooseworx has said this series is mostly focused on characters rather than lore, and from what we know, i truly believe it. I don’t think any of the current characters will abstract because of this.

(I put a version of this in the glitch inn discord theory thing so if you recognize it that’s why)

Pomni: we already know her deal pretty well, as we’ve already had her episode. uuuh if anyone’s going to do something important lore wise it will probably be her as she’s the main character but can’t rlly tell what that may be. to review ep 2 though she’s an outcast who has felt like she was nothing and is a logical thinker.

(Kinger and Zooble will there their focus episode but i put it in order of who was revealed to be the ep 3 focus first)

Zooble: From their design (the entire motif is it can be changed at any time) and the fact she doesn’t know his gender, we’re dealing with some pretty clear identity issues. Friends with Gangle seems cool excited for next episode to learn more about them!

Kinger: One of the most interesting characters so far. I feel like we will get to learn more about abstraction though Queenie, the X-ed out door that looks like a female version of him. If i had to guess, since Gooseworx said they were not siblings, they were a couple. (Also judging by his age and the fact he could have been married, he may have been a father yeowch imagine that) I can see the common theory of the insect collection implying he was a coder before getting trapped, but i could also see him being some random guy who just likes bugs lol. He seems like really sweet guy behind his constant anxiety and disassociating.

 Gangle: (My faveorite human rn) Her mask design can be interpreted in a lot of ways but it’s clear that the happy mask isn’t her real personality. My take on it rn is she doesn’t wana bother people with her stuff so she pretends she’s happy? She seems easily embarrassed and def has self esteem lower than the last circle of hell. What’s interesting though is she’s willing to stand up for herself from time to time, even though she’s easily shot down after.

Ragatha: Waaaay too nice for her own good. Also probably has self esteem lower than the last circle of hell and bases her self worth of others approval.  Though she’s been here the second longest, she seems a lot more normal than Kinger. Makes me question how long apart their introductions have been. Probably copes via escapism.

Jax: I can see why everyone is very interested in him cause me too. He seems like the only fourth wall breaky guy (unless you count Caine cause of his intro at the pilot)which is rlly interesting how did he figure out more than everyone else? what’s with the keys? i have no clue lmao. He’s an asshole who makes the best of his situation by torturing everyone else. At the end of the day though, he’s a human and was sad at kaufmo’s abstraction but he probably isolates himself so it would probably be the same for anyone

but waAitTt a moment

that’s 6 humans but Gooseworx said we would look into 7 (cause of the “other” part) in her twitter post talking about the character focus timeline so we know our fav character won’t be left behind ⁉️⁉️⁉️ I hear you not asking well my dear hypothetical person, who better to fill the 7th character than Caine?

Why you did not ask? Too bad i’m info dumping. First, he’s the main antagonist and alongside Pomni, the commercial face (or lack their of haha teeth and eye joke) of the series. he’s an important character and loved by many. (and hated equally if not more aside the point lmaooo)

Yes, gooseworx can lie about stuff but I think she’s smarter than to lead this heavy into Caine depth/ angst territory if there wasn’t going to be anything On top of that, the entire purpose of the timeline post was so we know our faveorite characters weren’t getting treated poorly. It’s unlike for a character based show to suddenly drop such a major character for some random other guy were introduced to later or smth. i mean cmon there’s three episodes after all the humans at least one of them has to be focused on my boy.

Caine: I believe he really does have good intentions and wants to help but just does not understand people at all. This means he’s like an anxiety disorder; it wants to help, solves some issues but creates 500 more. Judging by the Tumblr post, loneliness may play a big part in what’s to come? I’ve always had a feeling his front was extremely fake and his VA saying “breaks keyfable” (an act that pretends it’s true) supports that theory. Episode two gives some insecurity vibes when Zooble didn’t want to go on the adventure. I find that pretty interesting cause he didn’t care at all if people went on the gloink adventure or not. Maybe he puts some adventures over others and he could have been proud of the candy adventure cause more time and care was put into it and he made a new AI. Why did he blue screen? i feel like he could have some blockages on what he can say built in though im not sure why he was blocked then if he even was. one of the biggest questions i have ab him currently tbh. what’s with him grabbing his cane like that in ep 2? if i had to guess simply be nervous = that? His VA also knows some depth to him even though his focus episode is likely going to be at least one of the last 3 episodes, which they have not gotten to recording yet. You know what this means Caine angst solidarity club? Sad Caine so more fan angst appetizers before the main cannon feast let’s friccin go‼️‼️⁉️⁉️

(try to guess my fav impossible /j)

[kinglivv]

Leaving Her

Kate Stewart x g!n reader

Summary: When you and Kate’s relationship gets rocky, you run away with the Doctor. Four months later, your run in with the Toymaker forces you to confront each other.

Warnings: None

A/N: because not enough attention is paid to the fact that kate uses guns now ALL the time

You find her outside, smoking.

“I thought you’d quit.” You state.

“Yeah well,” she taps away the ash, “we all have our vices.”

You don’t really want to be out here on the helipad with Kate. It’s raining for one, and you’d been managing quite successfully to avoid being left alone with her. However, as the adrenaline of day wore off, you found yourself in desperate need to get out of the command room. The walls were closing in and you hadn’t breathed fresh air in 12 hours.

And there she is.

She’s a vision against the London skyline, blonde hair still somehow perfectly neat and brown eyes still longing, threatening to draw you in.

You remind yourself that you hate her.

You stand next to her for a few silent moments, leaving a healthy distance between you as you regard the view over London.

“You didn’t visit,” she says suddenly.

“Why would I?”

“I just thought…” Kate shakes her head, refusing to look and you and taking another puff. She waves a hand exasperatedly, “It was like you were there one day and gone the next.”

“There was a bit more build up to it than that and you bloody well know it,” you snort. “Late at the office every night. Cancelling our anniversary trip. Forgetting my birthday. It may as well been you who upped and disappeared.”

“You’ve seen my work here. You think I can just abandon it?” she snaps, waving to the building behind. The wind whips around you and her words are carried away.

“You have a second in command, Kate,” you snap back, “You’re allowed to delegate. Have an actual life outside your job.” You want to smack your head against a wall. Months apart and here you were, back again having the same argument you’d had a million times before.

“You knew this wasn’t a normal nine to five when you got with me.”

“Yeah but you changed, Kate,” you almost yell. “Look at you. Where’s the woman who used to take me out to dinner every Friday? Where’s the woman who used to drive me out to the countryside to stargaze? You’re a workaholic.”

“You don’t get to come in here and lecture me after running away with her for the last four months.” She spits.

And there it is. Laid bare. How nights sleeping on the sofa, endless arguments and weeks worrying she was having an affair had culminated in you taking up the Doctor’s invite to travel with her. It was her smile, her humour, her energy, her short blonde hair and brown eyes. If you squinted, the Doctor could be anyone you wanted her to be. You’d packed a bag and left not only your Kate but your planet. It felt like no where was far away enough.

And now the Doctor had regenerated, replaced by someone you didn’t quite recognise anymore, and that had only given you more time to think about all you’d left behind.

“The divorce papers arrived, by the way.” she breaks the silence, “Do you want me to sign them?”

That’s another punch to the gut. Distantly, it strikes you that you haven’t been home in so long that you hadn’t checked your mail. You opt not to answer her.

Neither of you say anything for a moment. Voices carry over from inside the command deck, presumably Ibrahim issuing clean-up orders or the Doctor catching up with his old friends. You shiver in the cold of the helipad. Horns honk in the streets below.

“Since when did you use guns?” You ask quietly, because the silence is agony.

It was something that had been bugging you the minute you got off the TARDIS. Kate Lethbridge Stewart, the woman who was supposed to be reforming UNIT, leading with science and not weapons, had been so eager to whip out a side piece the minute there had been any hint of danger. You’d flinched when she’d so breezily ordered her men to open fire, as if it were a well-rehearsed, familiar line. The woman you’d married had abhorred violence.

Her cigarette struggles in the rain, and she curses under her breath, pulling out her lighter. You watch her, really watch her for the first time that day. You notice the deeper crow lines around her eyes, the hair that isn’t as cropped as she usually preferred it.

“It’s practical,” she eventually offers as explanation.

“I seem to remember you saying you dragged UNIT kicking and screaming to get them to put down their guns.”

“UNIT is a military operation. We’ve always used guns.”

“Yeah but I mean you, Kate.” You reply, “That handgun is new.” You glance at it holstered on her hip.

She shifts self-consciously, shrugging so that her blazer falls over it, obscuring it from your view. It’s a nice blazer. New you think, and it suits her very well. You blink, trying not to get distracted by her figure or that strong hand clutching the cigarette.

“The Colonel and I thought it would be wise for me to carry one after the Cyberman siege on our old office.”

“The one you blew up?”

“Yes,” she laughs bitterly.

“Why now?” You argue, “You’ve seen off the Zygons, the Master, Sontarons. Why start carrying a weapon now?”

She twists her wedding ring. She’s still wearing it you realise, and you look down at your naked fingers in unexpected guilt.

“They tried to convert me,” she confesses. “They were this close to managing it and I only just got away. Had me tied to the chair and everything.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You stare at her, this women who you knew inside and out, who you had dedicated the last three years of your life to. This woman who had seen you cry and laugh. This woman who held you in bed at night and this woman who you had run from. You want to reach out to her, to promise her she’s safe.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask instead.

“Didn’t know how,” she shrugs. “Kind of worst case scenario, isn’t it? Nothing compares to a cyberman.”

You silently agree with her. Of all the monsters in the universe you’d come across, none could strike fear into you quite like the metallic, robotic Cybermen could. There was nothing more violating than the prospect of having your emotions stripped away and your body turned into fodder.

“I think I started working longer to stop thinking about it,” she adds. “I mean, there was the big clean-up operation afterwards which took a lot of time, and after that I just found it easier to not stop.”

Shame floods your body. All this time she’d been hurting and you’d abandoned her. You can’t help yourself, you slide an arm around her waist, and then another, pressing your front to her back and burying your face into her shoulder. She still fits in your embrace perfectly, and her hand - the one that isn’t clutching the fag like a rubber ring - cautiously reaches to cover yours.

“I’m sorry Kate,” you murmur. “I should’ve known. I shouldn’t have left you.”

“No,” you feel her shake her head, “God I hate you for it but leaving me forced me look at things. I haven’t been good to you. I am a workaholic. And somewhere along the line I stopped being a wife.”

You blink back tears and press a kiss to her jaw.

“Don’t sign the papers,” you whisper.

[renlyslittlerose]

Kinktober Day 10 - Cuddling for Warmth

For @gretchenzellerbarnes ❄️

Warm Love - 2,180 Rating: E Content: Established Relationship / Explicit Sexual Content / Cuddling & Snuggling / Huddling For Warmth / Frottage / Hand Jobs / Anakin Skywalker is a Menace

---

All Jedi were expected to undergo survival training. As younglings they’d sit in their classes and learn the basics of how to call for help, how to track various night skies, and what foods were safe to eat depending on one’s species. When they became padawans the classroom became the outdoors where they were sent out to survive in the wilderness for days or even weeks at a time, and where they were expected to care for themselves and one another while actively looking for help and not just expecting it.

Anakin had always enjoyed survival training. He was actually good at it, despite Obi-Wan’s insistence that he really should stop eating the bugs he found beneath rocks and in the hollowed bodies of dead trees. The academic side of being a Jedi had always frustrated Anakin, having to sit and listen rather than do, but when it came to the practical, tangible side of his training, Anakin felt like perhaps he actually was meant to be a Jedi.

And so, when the heating systems of the Negotiator went out after a droid from the Separatist army landed a lucky shot in the middle of a dog fight, Anakin knew just what to do.

“We have to cuddle for warmth.”

Obi-Wan glanced up from his desk in his quarters and looked at Anakin as he stood in the doorway.

With a mild expression Obi-Wan dropped his stylus and sat back in his chair. “It’s only ten degrees, Anakin. That’s hardly cold enough to warrant a sweater, let alone needing to cuddle for warmth.”

Anakin didn’t care that it was only twelve degrees. What he did care about was how the tip of his nose was going pink, and how he was fairly certain that in a few short minutes his toes would start to go numb.

“You run hot,” he said as he strode into the room. It was slightly warmer inside Obi-Wan’s room, his breath heating up the small space. Anakin seemed to grow colder the longer he remained in his, and he eyed Obi-Wan with some suspicion. “You don’t have some secret Jedi warming powers you never told me about, do you?”

Obi-Wan chuckled. “No, Anakin, I do not have any secret powers, unless you count my ability to know when you’re getting yourself into trouble from light-years away.”

Under normal circumstances Anakin would have snapped back at Obi-Wan, but these were not normal circumstances. His toes were going numb.

“Whatever - just get into bed with me?”

Rising with deliberate ease, Obi-Wan held his arm out to Anakin and allowed him to pass. Obi-Wan’s bed was tucked into the wall as was standard with all beds on the ship, and was neatly made and smelled of military issues detergent mixed with Obi-Wan’s spicy cologne. It wasn’t made for two grown men, but that had never stopped them before.

“You should take off your robes,” Obi-Wan said as Anakin was half-way on to the bed.

Anakin glanced over his shoulder. “Undressing would defeat the purpose of getting warm.”

“Not if we’re fucking.”

Swallowing down the sudden spike of arousal at hearing Obi-Wan say the word ‘fuck’, Anakin pushed off of the bed and turned to face Obi-Wan. “You want to fuck?” he asked.

Obi-Wan shrugged, nonchalant and elegant. “It’ll be hours before the droids complete their work and we’ll be able to leave this system, and hours still before we’re expected to be on deck and fill our roles as Generals. And if you’re cold… well, I know how I can warm you up.”

He slid closer to Anakin, his warm felt even through the dense layers of robes. Anakin gravitated closer and accepted the slow, easy kiss, his head tilting to the side as he buried his fingers in the warm cotton of Obi-Wan’s robes. Obi-Wan’s mouth was hot just like the rest of him, making Anakin’s cheeks and the tip of his nose heat up with each deliberate swipe.

“Hours you say?” Anakin said as they parted.

“Hours and hours,” Obi-Wan purred.

“You’ve convinced me.”

“Then you should start taking off your robes.”

Anakin sighed and nuzzled his nose against Obi-Wan’s. “But I’m cold.”

“I promise to warm you up immediately, darling. Now come on - let me see that pretty cock of yours.”

Anakin was certain there wasn’t much to see at the moment, his pretty cock gone and hidden itself as much as it could to avoid the chill. But just the thought of having slow, relaxing, warm sex with Obi-Wan gave Anakin the immense courage it took to start undressing. As soon as the cold air touched his skin he was shivering, and by the time he was under the thin sheets of Obi-Wan’s narrow bed he felt like he was going to break apart from the strength of his tremors.

“You’re so dramatic,” Obi-Wan said as he crawled on top of Anakin.

Immediately Anakin wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan and clutched him close, willing Obi-Wan’s heat to push into his bones and heat his insides. Obi-Wan’s skin was soft, the hairs across his chest and belly rough and pleasing, and the weight of his body on top eased Anakin’s trembles into something more manageable.

“You can see my breath,” Anakin said, pouting.

Obi-Wan chuckled and kissed Anakin deeply, one arm sliding beneath Anakin’s waist to hold him close, the other running through his curls, petting his jaw and the back of his skull. Easing into the kiss, Anakin parted his lips and rubbed his tongue against Obi-Wan’s, a shaky sigh slipping past his lips.

They continued their kiss for some time, Anakin trying to soak in Obi-Wan’s warmth. He was hot and heavy between his legs, their stomachs and chests pressed tight together, Anakin keeping both his arms beneath the blankets as he painted idle patterns along Obi-Wan’s low back and the curve of his ass. Obi-Wan was patient as he licked inside Anakin’s mouth and sucked on his tongue, their lips brushing and then pressing firmly together as Obi-Wan eased Anakin down from his deliberately indigent state.

It was as if the Separatist army thought it hadn’t personally pissed Anakin Skywalker off enough, and they just had to go and cut off the heating system of the ship he was on.

“Feeling any better?” Obi-Wan asked when they broke apart. His voice was thick with arousal, dense and deep, and Anakin ground up a little at the sound of it, pressing his hardening cock against Obi-Wan’s hip.

“A little,” he admitted. The tip of his nose was still cold, however, and he pressed his face against the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck, breathing him in as they rocked together.

Obi-Wan held him a little tighter and started grinding down, reciprocating Anakin’s slow, steady movements. Sweat began to bead up between them, and Anakin sighed with relief as his bones began to ache just a little less. Grabbing the meat of Obi-Wan’s ass, Anakin groaned as the muscles flexed beneath his touch, seizing before relaxing as Obi-Wan slowly humped against him.

Pulling away from the warmth of Obi-Wan’s neck, Anakin kissed across his jaw before catching him in another kiss. This time it was deeper and more intense, their tongues rubbing, mouths parted, breath sticky and hot, spit streaked across their lips. Anakin’s cock pulsed, stringy pearls of precome sliding out to slick across their bellies, catching in the coarse hairs along their groins.

Obi-Wan tasted like tea and cinnamon, soft notes of the green leaves mixing with the spice of the root, making Anakin feel both at ease but also slightly annoyed.

“You had tea without me,” Anakin mumbled when they broke apart.

“You don’t like the stuff I brought with me.” Obi-Wan rested their foreheads together, breath stuttering as he shoved his hips a little harder against Anakin.

“Still - I’m cold. I could have used a cup.”

“I’ll make you one when we’re done.”

“Make me a cup of caf instead.”

Obi-Wan’s nipped Anakin’s bottom lip, biting down on the tender skin rubbed raw from the brush of his beard. “You’re a brat.”

Anakin preened under the mild insult and hooked his leg around Obi-Wan’s waist, changing the angle so that he could slide his cock against Obi-Wan’s. Obi-Wan let out a gasp then, brows furrowing as they moved together. Heat pooled between them, chasing away Anakin’s prior chill, his skin slick with sweat and cheeks and chest flushed, his breath coming out in hot gusts that painted Obi-Wan’s lips and cheeks with perspiration.

His flesh hand remained beneath the blanket, rubbing Obi-Wan’s low back before occasionally slipping a finger between the cleft of his ass, teasing Obi-Wan but never going further than that. Feeling brave he lifted his mechno-hand out from the blankets and into the cold air, sensors picking up on the change in temperature. But Anakin didn’t want to turn them off, desperate to feel Obi-Wan - his warmth and the brush of his hairs along his fingertips, the dips and grooves of his face and the little pocket of scars across his back. Brushing a sweaty lock of hair from Obi-Wan’s brow, Anakin cupped his cheek and locked eyes with him.

The warmth in Obi-Wan’s eyes was enough to burn Anakin up from the inside out.

“Thanks for sharing your warmth with me,” he panted out, gasping and arching as Obi-Wan reached between them and grasped their cocks, holding them together firmly. “Guess you’re a true Jedi - helping those in need.”

Obi-Wan chuckled, his brows furrowing a moment before relaxing, breath coming out in a stutter as he neared the edge. Anakin moaned again when he felt the pad of Obi-Wan’s thumb press against the tip of his cock, and he caught him in another messy kiss as they chased their pleasures.

The sounds of their embrace carried through the now muggy room, the lick of their tongues, the gasps of their moans, the steady rustle of bedding as they moved. The air was thick with the scent of sex and the military issues soaps, familiar and yet still foreign to Anakin. He didn’t like that Obi-Wan smelled of the industry of death; uncompromising and ordinary.

Anakin came first. Shuddering, he broke the kiss and tossed his head back, eyes closing as his orgasm fluttered through his limbs and soaked deep within his belly, brushing away the last of the chill and heating him up from the inside. Clutching Obi-Wan close he bit into the meat of his shoulder, sucking a dark mark along his pale flesh as his hips stuttered and his toes curled.

Relaxing on the thin mattress, Anakin stroked the back of Obi-Wan’s head and murmured his adoration for Obi-Wan across his temple as he too came, his hips pushing into Anakin’s, adding to the mess as he spread his seed along Anakin’s groin and stomach. When he was done, Obi-Wan collapsed on top of Anakin. His weight was familiar and grounding, keeping Anakin settled and warm.

Hugging him close, Anakin pressed his nose against Obi-Wan’s temple and closed his eyes. They remained as they were for some time, wrapped up in each other, content for just a moment as they slowly drifted off into some semblance of sleep.

That was, until the sound of the heating system kicked in. Letting out a great huff, Anakin moved with Obi-Wan as he rolled off and wedged himself between the wall and Anakin’s flushed body.

“You said we had hours,” Anakin said with a pout. He brushed some of the spit from Obi-Wan’s beard, flicking it off onto the bedding.

“I thought we did,” Obi-Wan said. “Though I thought you’d be happy - the heating is back on, and you can continue to stalk the halls of the ship without your pink nose undercutting your authority.”

Anakin rolled his eyes and smacked Obi-Wan’s chest gently. “Shut up. I’ll have you know I can be very intimidating when I’m cold.”

“Oh I’m sure,” Obi-Wan replied. He sunk down for another kiss, sweet and slow. When they broke apart he brushed a curl from Anakin’s temple. “I could always go and ‘accidentally’ break the system again. Buy us those hours I promised.”

The offer alone was enough for Anakin.

[bullet-bumbles]

Notes:

Shorter chapter, same warnings as previous

Tangerine was led up towards the room, and was left to realize the true size of the building he was in. It was a wonder how Lemon didn’t get lost. Although most of the interior would be considered architectural art, he couldn’t help but think about what other sleazy shit goes down within these walls. His focus was also limited, now working on planning an escape route, destroying his earpiece on the way, the connection long since gone.

Along the way, his mind began to wander. He pondered what his mother would think of him if she were still alive. If she were aware he was in a situation like this.

It was situations like these that made him grateful she wasn’t around to see them.

Once reaching room 207, he was promptly knocked from his analysis of the few visible windows as the tux’d man threw him into the room. Most likely out of rational precaution that he’d back out again. Guess the man hadn’t taken kindly to the greasy, rat-eyed, bloke either. As the door slams behind him, he can barely think of an appropriate way to introduce himself before a shrill voice breaks the air.

“You only think I’m worth a sorry million?”

At the moment, he didn’t believe this girl was worth the clothing on her back.

Tangerine, obviously preaching composure to himself, looked up at the young woman standing before him. Adorned in the same black dress as earlier, her eyes now aflame. A very obvious anger in them. If Tangerine didn’t know any better, a film of fear was also visible. He couldn’t blame her for the issues at hand. He had gotten himself into this situation.

“M’ not here to hurt ya, love.” He sighed out, not expecting the girl to let down her guard at the statement. He moved to fix his nonexistent earpiece out of habit, and cursed when his fingers were met with nothing but flesh.

“Does saying that make you feel better about your disgusting life choices?” She clenched both her fists at her sides before crossing her arms.

“Coulda left you to that other nasty bloke, don’t think my life choices are near as disgusting as his.” Tangerine grimaced back, now returning to look about the room.

“Can’t imagine how proud your mother must be.” She muttered.

He shot her an obvious look, with the situation she was currently in now, she was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.

“Not here to hurt you, luv, promise to make this feel good, darling, blah, blah, blah.” She continued mockingly, breaking eye contact to sit down on the large bed resting in the middle of the room, to stare at her shoes. “More men making false promises.”

Tangerine’s eyebrows furrowed in discontent, a knowing discontent, assuming those words were relayed from the experiences of her friends or sisters. He didn’t mean it that way, but he knew the ways of this world, just as well as she did. She cast him a dirty look with a quick once-over, “Don’t look so surprised, you’re one of them.”

With that, he was reminded he wasn’t here to gain her trust, just to get out of here.

“My name’s Tangerine.” He noted walking towards the bed stand, opening the several drawers, hoping to find anything that could be of use. For the first time since adopting the code name, he received no reaction to his fruit alias. Instead, she simply bent down to undo the straps of her black pumps, “I don’t care, let’s just get this over with.”

“No, keep those on.” Tangerine kept his eyes focused on the task at hand as he moved to the closet in search of anything useful.

That warranted a strange look from the girl, she rolled her eyes, “They don’t bug the room, if that’s what you're looking for.”

Fuck.

Bugs, of course. These back walls and hallways had to be crawling full of unregistered cameras and wires. Who knows who’s all listening right now. Tangerine’s jaw clenched down hard on itself.

Along with this realization, he also began to wonder if their hit had, well, hit the pavement. It was only a matter of time before security began reviewing camera footage after finding the body.

He hoped Lemon was well off the property by now, but knowing his brother, Lemon was probably back in the building in search of him right now.

Tangerine turned fully to face the girl again, “You know your way round’ this place?” He asked.

She offered him another strange look, “I do, why?”

Tangerine gave a curt nod and thanked every saint he could think of at the moment, “Right, then we’re getting out of here.” He nodded towards the door, her lack of haste becoming frustrating,

“Now.”

He could leave the woman if he really wanted to, but retracing his steps would quickly prove to be near-impossible. Windows were few and far between, and mostly bulletproof by the looks of them. Not to mention the nearly identical and repetitive corridors. The woman’s eyebrows shot up, starting to catch on to the fact that Tangerine was, in fact, serious. “And why should I help you?” She voiced.

He let out a long sigh, hands resting on his hips. They were wasting time. “I can get us out of here, I’m not here to be another sick fuck buyin’ women in underground auctions.” He muttered.

“Well, you did.” She responded plainly.

His back was tense, eyes screwed shut. They opened to meet her own, but before he could respond coldly, his mouth sealed shut, choosing silence. He needed her help if he ever expected to get out of here. For years this girl had most likely been bracing for a traumatic experience. This moment had been instilled with fear for her entire life. He cannot blame her words.

After all, why in the world should she help him?

He exhaled thoroughly, “I’m not here to take advantage of you,” Tangerine stated, his hands came together in silent plea before him “However, I just paid you a million fucking quid.” His face remained stern, “If you help me get out of here, I assure you will never have to see my sorry face ever again.” She tilted her head to the side, genuinely taking in Tangerine’s words for the first time since their acquaintance. Her consideration came to a halt as she stood with a nod,

“Do I get a dumbass codename too?”

[jinxedruby]

Whumptober Day Twelve: Underground Caverns

Featuring Sky and Wild.

Heads up for a panic attack in this one.

AO3

First part | <- Previous part | Next part ->

-------------------------------

Humidity hung thick in the air, pouring down Sky’s throat with each breath and clogging his lungs. Sweat coated his skin, clinging to his hair and the collar of his sailcloth. Some animal he didn’t recognize hooted in the distance, joining the cacophony of the hordes of unseen bugs chirping and whirring from the trees.

“We’re in Faron, alright,” Wild said from beside him as they tromped together through the thick underbrush.

Sky huffed, clothes chafing uncomfortably against him with each step. “Faron Woods was never this… sticky.”

Wild laughed, the sound too light-hearted for Sky’s current mood. “That’s my era’s Faron, for you. Zelda called it, uh… tro- trol- tropical.”

“Whatever it’s called, I don’t like it,” Sky grumbled, peeling his tunic away from his chest in an attempt to get cool air on his skin. It didn’t work. “It feels like trying to breathe underwater.”

Wild laughed again and Sky really couldn’t fathom what he found so humorous. They continued picking their way through the lush forest, following the base of a cliff. Wild had been chosen to scout since the area was familiar to him, even if his device’s map wasn’t working. Sky had volunteered to go with him, having always liked the natural beauty of Wild’s era. He found himself regretting that decision a bit. While Sky slogged along, Wild seemed to take little issue with the climate, despite him sweating through his clothes the same as Sky. The cook kept darting off whenever they passed by certain trees that held large, harpastum-sized fruits with spiny exteriors.

Something bright yellow in their otherwise green surroundings caught Sky’s attention. He turned to see a short tree with bunches of oblong yellow fruits.

“Hey, Cook, do you know what these are?” he asked, stepping closer to examine them. Wild jogged after him.

“Bananas,” Wild said. He reached up and plucked the multi-lobed fruit from the tree. Then he grabbed one lobe and separated it before breaking the brown stem. He peeled the skin apart to reveal a pale yellow interior. He held it out to Sky. “Here, try one. They’re pretty good raw.”

Sky took it hesitantly. He poked at the weird, soft interior. He glanced up at Wild who had peeled another banana and bit off half the interior. He gave Sky an encouraging nod. Sky slowly brought the fruit to his lips and bit off a small chunk. He blinked, chewing the soft fruit only twice before it reduced to pudding in his mouth. “That’s really sweet,” he said in surprise after swallowing.

“Isn’t it?” Wild squeezed the bottom of the peeled skin, popping the rest of the interior into his mouth. “If you cook it right, it makes you stronger for a bit.”

Sky laughed, taking a larger bite. “Fledge would love that.”

Wild tapped the surface of his device and the rest of the bananas vanished into it in a flash of blue light. He beckoned Sky and the two continued onward. Sky picked away at the banana as they walked, the snack lifting his mood at least a little. Wild took just about every fruit they passed and Sky could only wonder at how he carried so much.

After a few more minutes of walking, a dark splotch on the cliff wall beside them caught Sky’s attention. He glanced over to see the mouth of a cave in the rock. A little dot of yellow sat in the entrance. He moved closer to see a bunch of those oblong yellow fruits on the ground just inside the cave. Curious, he headed toward it.

“Hey, Cook,” he called. Wild hummed a response from some distance, busy picking more spiny harpastum fruits. “Do those, uh, bananas grow on the ground?”

“What?”

Sky pointed, only a couple steps away. He walked into the cave, stooping down to grab them. “Here, there’s-”

“SKY, DON’T!”

Sky froze, head snapping around. He caught barely a glimpse of Wild sprinting toward him, eyes wide. Then an explosion boomed overhead. Something cracked and roared in the same moment. Burning heat rushed over Sky, dirt and rocks pelting him from above. Before he could react, Wild slammed into him from behind, sending them both flying into the cave. Not a moment later, the ceiling of the cave entrance gave way. He felt Wild pressed against his back, covering his head. The sound of boulders and chunks of rock cracking and collapsing rattled in Sky’s skull. He clenched his teeth as the intense vibration made them buzz, thrumming through his chest.

Finally, the crashing and rumbling stopped. Sky’s ears rang in the ensuing silence. He cautiously opened his eyes only to be met with near-complete darkness. The weight on his back shifted as Wild pushed himself up and off of him.

Wild coughed then said, “You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Sky replied. He slowly turned onto his back and sat up, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the dimness. He could just make out Wild’s silhouette against the slivers of light filtering through the gaps in the rocks filling the entryway. “You?”

“Fine.” Wild turned toward the rocks, pushing himself to his feet. As Sky stood, Wild walked up to the rocks, pushing experimentally at them. “We must be closer to my era than I thought if the Yiga are active.” He froze abruptly. “Yiga- Oh, I’m such- Sky, watch our backs! The Yiga can teleport!”

Sky immediately drew his sword, whirling around to face the cave. Eerie, unending blackness greeted him. He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. The temperature in the cave dropped significantly compared to the outside. His neck felt cold, the cool air sucking the heat out of his sweat and leaving a chill on his skin. He heard a grunt from behind as Wild tried to move the rocks. After a few seconds, Wild let out a gasp.

“That’s not… gonna work,” he panted. “Okay, new plan. Step back a bit.”

Sky glanced over his shoulder to see Wild walking toward him, waving him farther into the cave. Sky obliged, through walking deeper into the darkness caused a pit to form in his stomach.

“What’s your plan?” he asked, fighting the unease back.

A whir answered him, a glowing blue bomb appearing in Wild’s hands. Its light shone on his arms and the underside of his face, illuminating his grinning teeth. Wild hurled the bomb, blue wisps trailing after its path. It landed with a thud at the base of the rocks. Sky heard a small click as Wild hit a button on his device.

The bomb detonated in a flash of blue light. A harsh crack and heavy rumble shook the very earth. The rocks blocking the entrance exploded outwards. At the same time, the ceiling caved. Wild cursed. Sky barely heard it over the deafening sound of tons of rock crashing down. He whipped around and sprinted deeper into the cave. He couldn’t see Wild. Something knocked against his shoulder, sending him stumbling.

The toe of his boot caught on a ridge in the ground. His heart leapt into his throat as he pitched forward. Another ridge jabbed hard into his ribs as he fell flat on his stomach. Something popped in his chest and he let out a wheezing cry, the sound swallowed by the roar of the cave-in. He tried to struggle forward until something slammed into his back. He curled up in place, wrapping his arms around his head. Teeth clenched and eyes screwed shut, he waited as the cave collapsed around him. Rocks slammed down somewhere near him, the impact jolting through Sky’s bones. His chest ached horribly but he could only curl tighter, bracing himself for the ceiling to inevitably crush him.

Then the rumbling slowed and grew fainter. Crashes of massive stone chunks gave way to small clatters as the rocks settled into place. Sky remained still until only the sound of blood roaring in his ears remained. He slowly, carefully uncurled. Pain sprung into his chest at the movement, robbing him of breath. He sank his teeth into his lip as he drew a breath through his nose despite the pain. He felt grit on his eyelids and used the underside of his sailcloth to wipe some of it away. He opened his eyes.

Pure, unbroken blackness.

He blinked again. He saw no difference between closing his eyes and opening them. It wasn’t like before when the little bit of light coming through the rocks allowed at least some sight. The deep darkness stole away all sense of space. His lungs clutched at his ribs.

“C-Cook?” he called, voice croaking. No echo. The walls of the dark stole the sound from his throat. His chest clenched again, stomach rolling. “Champion?”

When Wild still didn’t respond, the reality of the situation fully sank in. Sky sat up, keeping one hand on the ground, the other stretched out into the infinite void. His chest ached with pain, gut twisting. A chill sank into his bones, his sweat working against him and leaving him feeling freezing. “Link!” His heart throbbed heavily, pulsing painfully in his throat. His head spun. His lungs tightened. He scrambled to his knees, regardless of the pain. “Link!” He darted forward. His forehead smacked into a rock wall. He spun, head reeling as he pressed his back to the wall.

Cook’s dead. He couldn’t hold the thought back. He slid down to a sitting position, knees failing to support his weight. His breaths turned to gasps. Cook’s dead. His chest burned like someone had poured lava down his throat. He pressed his palm flat against it. He couldn’t breathe. It hurt too much. His shallow gasps vanished into the darkness. Gray sparks winked before him as his head filled with cotton. The darkness crushed against his lungs and dug into his eye sockets. He could hardly feel the wall at his back anymore. His fingers buzzed, vision graying and gravity yanking at his head. He brought a hand to his hair, trying to hold his head up. His heart thudded frantically against his aching ribs. His lungs squeezed and refused air.

“Sky?” Wild’s voice called from the blackness.

Air shuddered in Sky’s throat. “C-” He couldn’t speak. “C-” He couldn’t breathe.

“Sky, where are you?”

Sky could only gasp, chest burning as his head grew lighter. His abdomen and limbs felt stuffed with wool. Something gripped his arm. He thrashed with a breathless yelp. The hand vanished. There may have been a voice, but a whine took up residence in his ears, drowning out any words. He felt himself tip forward. His forehead collided with his bent knees and he let it stay there, rubbing his chest with numb fingers.

An orange light flared behind his tightly shut eyelids. He flinched and wrenched them open. The blackness fled to the edges of his vision as light shone into the void. He could actually see his feet propped up beneath him, see the rocky ground under them. At least, until the blackness began overtaking his sight again.

“Deep… deep breaths, Link,” a voice directly to his right said. The words sounded slow, muffled and distant. “I’m ‘onna… count. For four. In and out.”

Sky could hardly hear as Wild started counting to four repeatedly. Vaguely, he recognized what Wild was doing. He tried matching his breaths to the count but his chest burned as his lungs attempted to expand. A cry built in him but couldn’t escape. He rubbed his chest harder, neck muscles pulling taut in a grimace.

“It’s okay, it’s… it’s okay,” Wild soothed. Sky couldn’t tell if he imagined the slur in the cook’s words or not. “Just breathe.”

“I can’t,” Sky wheezed.

“You can, you jus’ did. Did to… to talk, yeah?”

Sky pulled in a trembling gasp. Wild resumed counting and Sky waited to exhale until Wild started from one again. His breath hitched constantly, thorns spearing into his ribs with each inhale. Even so, slowly but surely, his breaths began to even out. The blackness inched out of his vision. The wool threaded out of his body and head. After several deep breaths, though the pain in his chest never receded, he managed to lift his head from his knees.

Wild crouched beside him, leaning one shoulder against the wall Sky sat against. Sky’s gaze followed the light to its source; a lit torch lying on the ground. The orange light of the flame hurt his eyes after seeing absolutely nothing for however long it had been since the cave-in. Sky couldn’t tell. He looked back over at Wild, limbs trembling like pudding. Wild’s hair matted oddly at the top of his head, a dark patch visible against the blond. Sky didn’t notice until just then that Wild leaned his head against the wall too, posture slumped slightly.

“Feelin’ alright?” Wild asked. Sky definitely hadn’t imagined the slur earlier.

“Y-yeah. Thanks,” Sky responded, raspy from his sore throat. “Your head…”

Wild lifted a hand and gingerly patted the matted hair on his crown. He winced. “It’s… fine. Jus’ aches a bit.”

Sky gestured for Wild to let him see and the cook leaned over. “Did a rock hit you?” he asked. He gently parted Wild’s bloody hair, struggling to rein in the quiver of his hands so he could look at the wound. As Wild tipped forward, blood rolled along his scalp and down his forehead. He idly wiped it away.

“Think so,” Wild answered. He paused. “Might’ve been unconscious. For a bit. Not tha’ long.”

That would explain why he hadn’t responded when Sky first called out to him. It was a miracle he hadn’t been crushed.

“’M sorry,” Wild said as Sky took his hands from his hair. Sky glanced up from his pouch to see Wild with his gaze cast down, brow knitted. Blood trailed into the furrow, curving down the side of his nose. “Stupid idea. Blowing up th’ rocks…”

“Honestly?” Sky pulled out a bottle. He held it to the light, making sure the liquid inside was indeed red. “I probably would’ve done the same thing.”

Wild laughed, breathy and quiet. “The captain’s gonna let me have it. And Rancher. And the ol’ man. An’ Collector…”

“I won’t say anything if you don’t tell them that I fell for the most obvious trap ever.”

Wild barked out another laugh, quickly cut short by a pained hiss. Sky held the heart potion out to him. Wild blinked at it then frowned.

“It’s not tha’ bad,” he protested.

“I need your brain at full function to help us figure a way out of here.” Sky felt a brief flash of panic at the reminder of their predicament. He knotted his lips, fixing his gaze on the wavering flame of the lit torch until the feeling subsided.

Thankfully, Wild didn’t need more convincing. After a few long moments of deliberation, he took the potion from Sky and pulled the cork out with a light pop. He tipped his head back as he drank it, the drop of blood rolling along his cheek at the motion. Once he finished it, he handed the empty bottle back to Sky, prodding the top of his head.

“Good as new,” he said, though Sky didn’t miss how his words still came out slow and slightly stilted.

Sky tucked the bottle back into his pouch. He started to turn to look around, but the deep, unending darkness swelled beyond the light of the torch. He stiffened and hurriedly turned back around, staring at the flame.

“You okay?” Wild asked gently, concern evident in his tone.

“I- yeah,” Sky stammered. He took a deep breath but the ache in his ribs stopped it short. He rubbed his chest, glancing up from the torch to Wild. “I don’t- I don’t like feeling trapped.”

Wild nodded. He glanced around in the way Sky couldn’t. “Well, what do you say we get out of here, then?”

Sky’s gaze flicked back to the torch. “How exactly are we… we going to do that?”

“Well…” Wild looked over his shoulder, torchlight dancing off his long hair as he moved. “I don’t think leaving the way we came is an option anymore.” He turned back around, staring down the cave with narrowed eyes. Sky couldn’t bring himself to look, focusing solely on Wild and the torch.

“I think these are cart rails,” Wild said, tapping the toe of his boot against one of the ridges Sky had tripped over earlier. “There… might be… a-another entrance? On the other side of the mountain?”

His doubtful tone did not instill Sky with confidence. Sky bit his knuckle, fighting back the surge of panic. Wild glanced at him and his expression flinched just slightly. Abruptly, he pushed himself to his feet.

“Well, listen, I think I- I remember Zelda talking about these Sheikah excavation tunnels, back when they were looking for more Guardians and stuff,” Wild began. “The project probably got, um, abandoned once the Calamity hit, but they were really thorough. I’d be surprised if there weren’t multiple entrances.”

Sky pursed his lips, letting the words sink in. He still had his doubts on the validity of Wild’s statement. But… He let out a rough sigh. If it meant keeping the angst at bay, he’d be willing to believe it. He lifted his head to meet Wild’s gaze. The cook gave him a half smile, offering a hand to help him up. Sky took it, letting Wild pull him to his feet.

“We also need to be on the lookout for Yiga,” Wild said as he stooped to pick up the torch. “In case they actually think to check if we survived.” He paused, regarding the torch. After a moment, he held it out to Sky. “It might help if you held it.”

Sky blinked. Then his shoulders slumped, gratefulness washing over him. “It would. Thank you.”

He took the torch in hand, feeling its warmth against his face. With a steadying breath, he turned to look deeper into the cave. The voice lying in wait sent a shudder through his body. He tightened his grip on the torch, glancing at Wild. With a determined nod from the cook, the two set off through the cave.

(Concluded here)

[mullermilkshake]

Mafia Choso

Part one - crossposted from my AO3

Tags: Kidnapping. Torture. Gaslighting. Blood and gore. Posessiveness

Minors DNI!!

2.1k words

“You’re fucking crazy!” 

If crazy meant taking action to rectify the damage this man had caused his wife, then Choso Kamo was the craziest fucker in the world. 

But he didn’t admit to it. He would never do that out loud or in front of anyone.  “If anyone is crazy here, then it is you.”

He was not sure why this man was crying and screaming the way he was, he had only taken three finger nails and his bindings weren’t even done up as tight as they should have been.

Choso would endure so much more if it was for you, his Wife, a Goddess, his lover. He would happily crawl and slide on his belly over hot coals and shredded glass just to see you smile with that precious glint in your eye.

This man before him was just pathetic.

“I don’t even know why I’m here!” Of course the leech knew why, he laid hands on you, his entire world. Choso had seen it with his own eyes. 

The man sat in front of Choso on his knees, arms bound behind his back with his head lower than his health. He was much healthier than he should have been, there were plenty of ways he could have ended his life though he wanted to prolong it. 

He must have assumed Choso possessed a lack of intelligence, his blindness to letting you out of his sight for just a second, thinking he could get away with it and walk away without consequence. And here he was just playing dumb about it.

Though you were not ever usually out of his sight despite letting you think that you were. And at first when he saw you walk past this man, he jumped to the conclusion you were unfaithful. From a distance, handing you you a leaflet some kind. It could have been a number for all Choso knew.

How foolish of him to assume. This man only wanted one thing and one thing only from his saintly angel wife.

Choso sat down in the metal chair, the basement was clean enough, but he would reprimand his men for not cleaning the wall properly. Blood stains always freaked people out when they were pushed into a corner no matter how brave they assume themselves to be.

They made for poor conversation too. “You touched my wife against her will. Hurt her. Those actions must be answered for.”

The man huffed and laughed, bottom lip quivering. “You are crazy, I didn’t touch any body. W-what do you want; what, you want money is that it?!”

Money? No, Choso had vast amounts of wealth and could spend that coin on anything your heart would ask for. He would burn it all on a pyre right now if you asked him, begged him. 

In fact he’d like it very much if you begged him, you did that the best. On your knees, eyes glassy and wet and hands together like a prayer, just begging him not to do the things he did. He almost stopped too but this time, there was no reaching him.

Money was not the issue here. “I want to rectify your wrongs and restore balance to my family.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

“You asked if I wanted money? No. I want your eyes and tongue for putting a hand on my wife. No money will settle that score, only your putrid flesh ripped off of your body will cure that bug I bare.”

Choso Kamo loved you beyond words and he prayed that this act would show you that, bring you right to him after all this time of avoiding him, denying him. This would show you. This would push you into his long awaited embrace and if anyone knew better, they would keep out of his affairs, especially Yuji.

His heart was good, where Choso’s was twisted and hellbent on proving his worth to you. Yuji was too much of a bad influence and he didn’t even realise. Again, Choso loved his brother dearly too, but Yuji’s actions affected you greatly which drove you away.

Yuji was incredibly lucky that he was Choso’s brother. It would not end well had he not have been. His brother was the better man he realised and he knew that was why you gravitated to him when you needed to speak. Jealousy did not sit well with Choso, yet it sat all the same. 

“I didn’t do anything wrong… all I do is hand out leaflets for a company, a-a charity right here in the city. I don’t even make much I-I’m just tryin’ to get by!”

A charity. Then this man was using pathetic tactics to get Choso to change his mind, he bet it was one of those who protected animals or children too. He was foolish to think that would change the tide in his favour.

“Did you assume that mentioning charity would pluck at my heartstrings?” Choso leant forward in the metal chair, legs spread out to compensate the balance. “I could not care less what you do in your spare time as long as it has nothing to do with my wife.” 

“I don’t even know who your wife is…” That was a personal insult if Choso knew anything.

The bastard was going to suffer and he was going to enjoy it.

There was noise upstairs above him, stomping and yelling, a high pitched noise to which Choso could have recognised that if he were deaf just by the natural vibrations. You were close by, upstairs right now and he was in two minds as to whether he should go up and get you to watch him tear a grown man apart like an animal before mailing the body parts back to family members and friends of this pathetic piece of shit on the ground. 

But you were too pure for that.

The door upstairs opened anyway and footsteps descended. They were not yours, they were too heavy and clunky for it to be yours. 

“Choso?” Yuji.

It wasn’t appropriate at all for his brother to be down here with him right now. “Go back upstairs, Brother.” 

The footsteps continued and he ignored him. “Go upstairs. Now.” 

Choso was more demanding, a voice he often used in replacement to the father his other siblings never had. Yuji never listened, Eso too though he was a little more reserved in his ways, he always played the devils advocate. Choso became his own devil, sat on his shoulder to give into his obsession. Kechizu made it much easier to agree with this inner devil, at least he listened to him without argument. 

Yuji came into view and never made an attempt to leave back upstairs. “Please stop this, it isn’t right. He didn’t do anything wrong.” 

If Yuji had his way, then Choso would let everyone who did him wrong go. Perhaps it was better he was here, then maybe he couldn’t put more ideas into your head. He would not let you leave and abandon him regardless whether you wanted to be here. And Yuji wouldn't help you either. 

“He put his hands on her. You would understand the sentiment if you didn’t hang around those harlots every day.” 

“Kugisaki is nothing like that, you take it back.” His anger wasn’t fished out to flare Choso’s temper, but it did anyway. 

He found himself fighting with Yuji more and more since he had met you. “I will not. If you aren’t here to watch, I suggest you leave. Wouldn’t want you to get blood on your new shoes.” 

“See? It’s when you do stuff like this, this is why she doesn’t want to be here-“

“Take her name from your lips.” Choso was about to blow he could sense it and desperately held back in hopes he wouldn’t swing for him.

“When are you going to face facts, Choso? You’re so much better than this…” Yuji’s tone softened, he leant against the wall and folded him arms without as much as a glance in Choso’s direction. 

One of Choso’s men came down and whispered something in his ear. Kechizu was back.

Perfect. 

“Bring him down.” He said, looking over to the man on the ground. 

Choso had another idea in his mind, something much messier and positively more entertaining than this sorry excuse. “Please Brother, go upstairs. This will get messy-“ 

“Please don’t kill me!” The man begged and struggled against the bindings. “I-I won’t do anything I promise, I won’t call the police- I won’t!” 

“Just let him go Choso.” 

“You called Brother?!” Kechizu appeared at the top of the basement steps, his voice clearer than crystal glass.

Kechizu was incredibly adept with his hands, a knife and whatever tool that became an extension of his hand.

“Come Kechizu, I have a present for you.” 

“Please don’t do this Choso, don’t become the monster she thinks you are-“

“Enough!” Choso made a glare at Yuji. “Leave the basement if you want your conscience pure. Do I make myself clear?” 

He didn’t say a word and took one look at the man and turned to leave, but he stopped. Choso expected this and prepared well for it. Yuji turned and swung his fist, presumably out of nowhere but Choso read him like a book, always putting his fist where his heart was. 

He blocked the attack and threw his own punch straight to his brothers gut, he coughed and spluttered before falling against the wall this time. “I can anticipate everything, there’s no point in trying to piss me off. Now get out before Kechizu makes you.” 

Yuji continued to cough, wiping his mouth free from bile and dripping saliva. Kechizu was jumping up and down by the door frame, eagerly clapping his hands as he watched. “Brothers if you must fight, let me join! I have been stuck out in that alley making deals and I’m hungry for action!”

“Come down brother, Yuji was just leaving. I have a man you can play with and he’s eager to meet you.” 

Kechizu bounded down the stairs and stopped when he saw the man practically packaged for him, gift wrapped. Yuji stayed where he was. “Oh, I can play with him can I?” 

He watched on in excitement at the mans reaction to him. His eyes were wide and shocked once he noted his disfigurement. 

That always got Choso’s back flaring up. “What is it, does my brother have something on his face?” 

Go on… say it, I fucking dare you.

The man stumbled over his words, tripped on his voice until it came out in one big jumble. “What the fuck, he’s a mon- the fuck!” 

Choso had enough, the bastard got all he deserved now calling his brother a monster. “Deal with him all you want Brother, I’m growing weary of his voice.”

Kechizu pleased his brother all the while Yuji sat in silence for the longest time. Choso had him pinned by two men if he really insisted on staying ad watching. The pathetic man’s vocal cords stopped working shortly after he was torn into. Kechizu did love playing with his victims, spoke to them in ways no one would understand because this was a lustrous need to spill blood and vent his frustrations out on the world. 

And who was Choso to stop him?

You were safe, kept in hidden in your bedroom by now like you should have been and Choso had great entertainment before his evening meal, to add another story to the pile of his own history. Some would call him possessive, but Choso saw himself as opportunistic to get what he wanted and ensured the safety of the one he loved while providing everything you could ever want. That was a win in his book. 

Just like this man on the floor as an example, he got a rise out of the man who pissed him off greatly, taking revenge on him for doing what he did. And he got a repayment in flesh for the inconvenience of having to accommodate him in the basement of his house. 

It was the perfect day.

Though after his body had long stopped thrashing, Choso soon became inclined to take notice of his previous pleas. He wasn’t sure when he believed him not having eyes for you, touching you, but with the power he had for someone in his position, he couldn’t just take it back now, could he?

He would tell you all about this vicious man when you came to bed with him, and he knew that this time, you would be so proud of his accomplishments. 

Just like you always should have been.

[diamondzoey]

If some of the bugs got arrested

Jemma answering the phone: hello?

Sammy: Hey Jemma

Jemma sighs: what did you do?

Sammy: What???, why would you think I did something??

Jemma: am I wrong?

Sammy: Okay well- in my defense this one was a team effort!

Vincent takes the phone from Sammy: Jemma, we got arrested and we’re jail now and we need you to come get us.

Jemma: you got arrested!?

Sammy takes the phone from Vincent: Okay Okay wait, it was a honest mistake really, Uhh.. So Vincent tried to take a cardboard cutout of her character from Applebees but the manager stopped her and said that she couldn’t take the character home. So than Vincent started to cry and Victor got mad that they made Vincent cry and king story short we burned down an Applebee’s ^^

Jemma:….I don’t even know how to respond to that, you’re telling me that the three of you got arrested because of a cardboard cutout of a character!?

Sammy who looks at the another bugs, who’s also in jail: Uhmmm….Actually…

Azren: Nu-uh do not tell her I’m here!

Sammy: Yeah, there are more than three of us in here

Jemma:Sammy.. how many of you got arrested?

Sammy thinking: Well, let’s see..uhh.. me, Vincent and Victor since we burned down an Applebee’s

Victor: listen!, none of this would have happened if they just gave us the cardboard cutout.

Sammy: Anyway, Calix and Emerald are here too because they tried breaking us out of jail

Calix: Surprisingly… Trying to dig a tunnel with plastic spoons is not very efficient. :(

Sammy: and than Chester came in for some reason

Chester facing the wall: I don’t want to talk about it

Keres: he got into a fight with some lady at the mall over an bug collection

Chester: It was the last one!

Keres: You already have SIX!

Chester: I ONLY have six

Sammy looks at Keres: Hold on wait, Keres why are you here?

Keres: Tax Evasion

Jemma: Oh my divines, is all you guys in prison!?

Sammy:Actually no, Nash isn’t here

Lucy: yes but there IS a warrant for his arrest, he is currently on the run

Jemma goes quiet and tries not to scream and sighs: alright I’m on my way *Hangs up the phone*

Amber and Raine walks into the room

Amber looks around: where is everyone?

Jemma sighs: Jail Amber they’re in jail

Raine: someone is not in a very good mood today

Jemma walking out of the room: I don’t have time for this, I need to find Azren so he can help me get everyone out of prison

-Meanwhile at the jail-

Azren talking everyone in the jail: so when Jemma gets here no one is gonna mention that I got arrested, alright?

Lucy: we are literally in jail tho, i think she’s gonna figure it out

Emerald: so what are you in for?

Azren: it was one tiny noise complaint, it wasn’t even a big deal!

Anya: I heard you were issued a noise complaint from the ENTIRE neighborhood

Korey: how does that even happen?

Azren: Apparently it happens when you stand outside Jemma’s house with a boombox and serenade her at 3am, and she wasn’t even home! So the whole thing was pointless!

Jemma comes into the jail cell: where is everyone! *Than sees Azren in the jail cell*

Vincent: Jemma’s here we’re saved!

Azren: Jemma’s here we’re screwed

Jemma: Azren why are YOU in prison!?

Azren: first of all, it’s not Azren anymore it’s prison Azren and second of all it was just a big misunderstanding

Sammy: he got a noise complaint from standing outside your window with a boombox

Azren: it was a crime of passion!

-Meanwhile at the house-

Amber: what are you doing Nash?

Nash: hiding and my name isn’t Nash it’s bug

—————————————————————

A/n: i hope you like this and got this idea from bluesbirb

Bugs in this one

Sammy- @ccstiles

Jemma- @diamondzoey (me :3)

Vincent/Victor- @littlesiren79

Lucy/Anya- @castbracelet240

Nash- @lightdragon789

Korey- @rozeliyawashereyall

Emerald- @aspenm00n

Raine- @willowve01

Azren- @strayharmony943

Calix- @pinkcocopuff-aqualoid

Amber- @astralbulldragon13

Chester- @not-5-rats

Keres- @gatorboys22

[snowyaika]

Lol, huge Washington fan here. Was wondering if we could have a fic or just some head cannons for him. He's literally my favorite and I would really appreciate just anything for him.

pairing: project freelancer!agent washington x gn!doctor!reader

word count: ~600 summary: he can't get you, the doctor always patching him up, out of his head.

warnings: unidentified plot, secret mutual pining, mention of nightmares, mention of prescription drugs, slight angst if you see it that way, unedited writing, headcanon that wash has blue eyes, i overuse commas, making this while watching a violent asmr video, open ending

notes: Hi.... are you all still here? I've finally gotten back into the grove of writing... kind of! <3 something short but I find it pretty sweet, I'll probably do a continuation of this one later in the future! i've been wanting to do a doctor reader x wash for awhile now, thank you anon for giving me the chance to ^o^ let me know what you guys think!!

---

The sound of a quiet machine humming fills the empty space of the medical bay, everyone out on missions or enjoying a day off in the dining hall. 

Agent Washington, however, was spending his evening staring up at the dark ceiling, inspecting the details and structure that made the room while he lay on the less than pleasant infirmary bed. 

Stripped of his usual armor, he felt vulnerable— uneasy, but the sound of the automatic door opening with a pair of footsteps he’ll never forget the pattern of instantly puts his mind at ease. 

“Wash?” You call out, startled but not surprised to see him on the small cot. He had developed a habit coming to the infirmary when his mind got too crowded, when nightmares chased away his sleep and left him  with nothing but panic. 

Another reason was to simply see you. 

You, a doctor who helps patch up clumsy people like him after a rough mission. So soft spoken and understanding compared to the constant teasing he receives from his team. And your gentle touch, as if afraid to break him more than he already feels he is. 

“Hey, Doc.” 

A classic nickname he chose for you, using it only so he can see your eyes glint with a playful glare, lips trying to resist a smirk.

He was your most frequent patient, but you never had an issue with that. 

Throwing away an orange peel (you just came from dinner, he realized), you make your way to the bed. 

Standing at the side, you take in his appearance. 

He’s still sporting the bruise from his latest mission, small enough on his jaw to look like a measly bug bite. 

His eyes are cloudy, bags deeper than last time he was here. 

Nothing too out of the ordinary, you conclude. 

“You don’t have a check up until next week. Is something the matter?” 

Finally he sits up, legs sliding to rest over the edge of the bed as he stares up at you.

The small pout on your lips makes him want to kiss it away. 

“No, I just…”

wanted to see you.

He bites his tongue before the words get out, heart skipping a beat at the idea of speaking his mind. How would you react? Reject him with such a soft tone he can't even be heartbroken? Or maybe, he'll watch your eyes widen as you share the same sentiments, leaning down and brushing your soft lips against his--

He doesn’t realize he gave no response, earning a small sigh from you.

With gentle hands you cup his jaw, tilting his head to examine if there are any sort of external wounds bothering him. Eyes meeting pale blue ones, you quickly advert your gaze. 

You had forgotten how beautiful his eyes were. If it wasn't for your self control, you would have told him how they reminded you of the blue skies back at home.

Seeing no issue with his body, you release his head and turn, heading to the locked cabinet on the other wall. A poor excuse to hide your heated face.

You don’t notice him leaning forward after your hands leave his face, seeking more of your warmth, before catching himself. 

“Did you have another nightmare?” Softly asking as you rummage through the medicine capsules, waiting for his response before picking. 

The simple answer should have been yes. He has nightmares every night, ones that wrack his body in tremors and make him wake in a cold sweat. But lately, they’ve been different. 

Instead of moments of war or unbearable pain, it has changed to soft moments with you, a life in the impossible future at each other’s side. Dancing with you under the soft golden haze of the sunset, sharing a cup of coffee in a small house far away from this life, waking up in your arms with no more fears lingering in the back of his mind.

Moments that haven’t happened plague his head, wounding his heart and cursing his brain for giving him hopes for the unattainable. He almost prefers the other nightmares compared to these.

“Something like that,” is his simple response. Giving you a small smile when you turn your gaze back to him, he watches as you come back with the medicine you always prescribe.  

[writing-whump]

I love your OCS! Can I request something where Matthew is sick, but it's not his shadow, is just some good ol' human tummy bug and he's all over the place not knowing what to do? With Seline as caretaker? - 🎃

Aww thank you for the request, nonnie! My first for the werwolf story, I'm so excited. Here you go.^^

Contains emeto and mentions of scat.

Stomach flu

Seline wasn’t sure how or when it happened that Matthew now accompanied her from classes back home, but somehow it had become routine before she even realized. Since the day he stumbled upon her and pretty much tore himself to pieces with his shadow to protect her from a random threat, he basically made it his mission to be around in the afternoon hours. How it fit his schedule, she had no idea. Somehow he was simply there - and she suspected he didn’t follow his classes nearly as reliably as he did hers.

So she didn’t wonder or say anything. She didn’t feel obligated to make herself especially available - it wasn’t as if she invited him over - but she didn’t protest his presence. But evenings suddenly became their evenings, with her sitting by the central dining table connected to the living room, working on her laptop and Matthew dozing on her couch or flipping through her Netflix account. When she was done studying or no inspiration came to her for new songs - self-made songs were the most effective for magic - she would sit a few meters away beside him and watch as well. 

Seline only realized how much of a routine it had become when something disturbed it. Like today.

Matthew was restless. He was shifting on the couch like he was sitting on a bee hive and he had that angry scowl on his face she associated with difficult days with his shadow. Except he was cautious with his shadow around her - they didn’t have an incident inside her apartment. As if her defensive magic woven into the floor now worked more in his favour, clearing his mind. Which was a good thing, natural thing, since witches usually provided comfort and calmness to their wolves. But they weren’t a pack and she wasn’t his witch or he her wolf - here they were just two students, bounded by a secret they never talked about. Somehow it mattered very little here and she liked it that way. 

Seline was biting her lip, looking up from her laptop occasionally. She wanted to ask him what was wrong but didn’t know how well he would take it. Maybe the best she could do was give his discomfort privacy, no matter what it was.

Suddenly Matthew stood up, expression drawn and uncomfortable, hand on his belly. Then he bolted to the bathroom. Seline watched him go, concerned.

She watched out for gagging noises, but none of that came. Maybe she was reading too much into this. Would he tell her if he was sick? Wolf and witch relationships aside, if her stomach bothered her, she would rather die of emberassment than admit it. It was an intimate, awkward thing, stomach issues, so she bet he would rather be left alone if something was wrong.

You can only offer what you would like yourself. She was aware she wouldn’t know what would help him. How can you spend evenings with a person each day and not know this?

The bathroom door opened abruptly, but the followed steps were shuffling and slow. Matthew dragged himself on the hallway to lean against the wall across from her. Her gaze flickered to him, trying to be inconspicuous. 

Matthew was sweating buckets, dark red hair plastered to his face. He was usually pale, but now he was glistening, freckles standing out on his cheeks and nose, his arms wrapped around his stomach. He was swaying, bending forward a little.

“Seline.”

She turned towards him immediately. “Matt? Hey, what’s wrong?”

He gulped and ran a hand over his face. “Ugh. I-I don’t know? It’s just-” he looked away, flushing, “my stomach really fucking hurts.” 

“Did you throw up?” she asked, eyebrows drawing together. 

“No. But it feels like my guts fucking exploded,” he threw a sheepish look toward the bathroom. Seline noted he closed the door behind himself, which he usually wouldn’t bother with. “...and it didn’t help at all.”

“Oh.” Seline nodded, trying to figure out a sensitive, emphatic way to talk about this without embarrassing him or getting squicked out herself. “You know what? I have these herbal drops that help with indigestion? They are a miracle thing, I swear.” 

She brushed past him towards the kitchen for her yellow bottled drops. Learned to use the herbal things from her mother and knew a really good doctor who made herbal drops from his own garden. Her whole family used it for years for all kinds of issues. It was always her go-to before any hard-on medication.

Counting 30 drops for herself and adding 20 more for Matthew’s weight into a bit of water, she swiftly returned with the glass.

Matthew slid down the wall on the floor, pulling his knees towards himself and hugged them close, face hidden in the crook of his arm.

Seline crouched down beside him, her heart swelling up at the sight. “Come on. Drink this. Maybe it will spare you from throwing up.” 

He eyed her with glossy eyes. This close to him, the smell of sickness and sweat hit her senses, and she suppressed a grimace. Matthew took the glass of water and took a tentative sip. “Hmm. Is this a witchy concoction?”

“Just regular human medicine and traditional herbal knowledge,” she snorted at him. “If it worked for them a few hundred years ago, it will work for you now.” 

Matthew nodded and emptied the glass. She took it from him before he could drop it on the floor, hunching over himself. 

“You will feel better in a minute,” she promised, doubting words immediately. “Come on, up from the floor. Let’s lie you down on the couch.” She wrapped her hands around his arm, coaxing him to stand. He swayed unsteadily as he got up. Better get him sitting down now, or he might not get up on his own soon. 

The redhead sprawled on the couch, but then moaned at the movement and curled up on his side instead, shivering. Seline noted how he hugged his stomach protectively and pulled his hoodie up, nuzzling his face into the couch’s decorative pillow. “I just don’t get it. What’s wrong with me?”

She sat down across from him on the edge of the couch. “You have been handling your shadow pretty well lately, right? Keeping it down so consistently. Ever managed that before?”

Matthew took a shuddering breath, his bleary eyes focusing on her. He squinted against the light of the living room lamp over him. “No?”

“Well, there you have it. Congratulations! You managed to keep your shadow down enough to catch a stomach flu. It’s been going around the campus, I hear.”

“Congratulations for sure,” Matthew grumbled, huddling further into himself, squeezing his eyes shut.

Seline didn’t really have a reason or good excuse to stay beside him, but she didn’t feel like leaving at all. Shutting off the light, she brought her laptop to her lap, sitting cross-legged beside Matthew. This way, she could keep an eye on him all the time. 

The noises his stomach was making didn’t get any better, though. If anything, they grew worse with each passing minute, gurgling and whining. Matthew wasn’t asleep either, hiding his face in the pillows and rubbing his stomach angrily. 

A burp sneaked past his lips. Matt’s eyes flew open and he coughed a small “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay. Do whatever you need to,” she said. She couldn’t focus on her work at all, watching all the telltale signs of oncoming sickness. 

Closing her laptop resolutely, she threw it on the nearby table and fetched a trashcan. Better be safe than sorry.

Matthew looked horrified at the trashcan, sitting upright to lean against the backrest. He scowled at her and then burped instead whatever he wanted to say, pushing a hand over his mouth. 

“I’m-m not gonna throw up,” he declared, a fighting glint in his eyes. He was radiating heat. She could feel it even standing up. She cracked the window open and then sat beside him, pushing the trashcan nearer with her foot. 

He glared at her and then belched. A shiver ran through him and he swallowed hard. His breaths came in short, panting huffs.

Then he pitched forward with a painful-sounding retch. Seline quickly grabbed the trashcan and brought it close, just in time for him to hunch over it. Another retch wracked his body and he lurched violently over the trashcan. Nothing came up. Only a few drops of saliva hang from his lips.

“Mattie. You are doing fine. Psshh. Just let it happen.” She pulled his hoodie down and dared to put a hand on his back, rubbing gently.

The movement coaxed up another burp. Matthew panted over the trashcan, eyes opening and shutting hard. He grimaced and spat into the bag, looking offended and angry to boot. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Seriously, you don’t-”

“For real,” he interrupted, looking at her from the side. “I didn’t mean to come to your place to hurl. I never mean it and it somehow always happens and I’m really sorry. I can leave if you-”

“Oh, shut it,” she said with a small grin. “It’s okay. I’m not letting you leave like this. So stay put and get better.”

He smiled slightly in return, then grimaced. “Seline?”

“Yes?”

“I hate this.” 

She laughed softly at that and leaned closer. Matthew took the trashcan from her hands and buried his head inside it. Putting both her hands on his back, she felt his whole spine shake with the next lurch that finally brought chunky liquid out. She winced as it splashed against the plastic.

A slight pause came. Matthew lifted his head hesitantly. His nose was running and there was vomit hanging from his lips and chin. 

Seline patted his arm. “Be right back.” She hurried to get a paper roll from the kitchen before sliding behind Matthew. He had his feet planted on the floor, trashcan between his knees, head hanging low over it, looking helpless and lost. But he sighed at her touch.

She offered him one of the papers, but his grip on the trashcan didn’t loosen one bit. She gave up and wiped his chin herself, catching all the droplets and throwing the crumpled sheet into the trash. “There you go. You are alright.” 

Matthew stayed silent, blinking hazily. Then his back arched and he was heaving again. She raised herself on her knees with his back in between and rubbed at the sweaty pullover. 

When he pitched forward with a loud throaty gurgle, she sneaked a hand under his hoodie, over his stomach. Seline wasn’t sure what was allowed or not, but he didn’t protest her administrations, so she went with the feeling. His middle was bloated and tense under her hand, puffed out despite all the emptying his body been doing from both ends. 

Matthew moaned against her and she could feel his stomach muscles clenching against her hand. She kneaded against the gurgly organ, which ushered a burp out and a handful of milky sickness. At least it was more watery now, coming easier.

Matthew gagged and heaved, a torrent of liquid rushing out. He was left coughing and catching his breath for a few more minutes, even when he came up empty. Then he let go of the trashcan and tipped back, unknowingly leaning against her chest. She squicked quietly and laughed. “Okay, okay, easy, big guy.”

Seline slid from behind him and helped him ease against the couch until he was lying down, propped up on two pillows. When she stood up to get rid of the stinking bag, she felt a tug on her sleeve.

“Where-...are you…?” Matthew blinked sleepily, dazed and confused. It wasn’t fair. Why did she suddenly feel so protective of him? His dark brown eyes looked like big chocolate cookies, lost in his ashen face. 

Taking mercy on him, she twisted the bag shut and pushed it aside, sitting down next to his head. “Shhh. I’m not going anywhere.”

They sat in silence as Matthew took deep breaths, his chest rising and falling irregularly before evening out. His eyes slid shut and he reached out a hand towards her. Seline could do nothing but take it, holding it over his shoulder. Effectively trapped beside him. 

Pretty sure he would never allow himself such a touch if he was fully coherent. But with the fever raging against him and with how dizzy and exhausted he was after the bounds of vomiting, she could see a completely different side to her gruff red-haired protector. Protector? She still thought his shadow was more of a hindrance to him, but he was getting better. This human weakness was proof.

She slipped her fingers over his forehead, pulling the sweaty strands from his face. Then she combed them through his hair.

Matt grumbled softly, sounding content.

[celestiall0tus]

Tales of Bloody Bug and Chat Noir - Chapter 12 - Pharoah

Beginning || Previous || Next

            Alix ran around the new Tutankhamun exhibit in the Louvre. Jalil followed her and explained each display. She took notes before he started in on his theories to the next. She made her way to Tutankhamun’s specter as their dad joined them.

            “How’s everything going, you two?” Alim asked.

            “Amazing. I’ll have the best project for History yet,” Alix beamed.

            “And you, Jalil?”

            “It’s unbelievable! You managed to get everything I need,” Jalil exclaimed.

            “Need for what?” Alim pressed.

            Alix rolled her eyes. “Oh, here we go.”

            “Indeed. I want to direct your attention to the scroll on this wall.”

            Alim and Alix followed Jalil as they approached an adjacent wall.

            “So, Dad, you know this, but for Alix, the one with the scepter is Tutankhamun the First. There, opposite, is Nefertiti, his princess. There are exactly one hundred mummies beside them. She died several years before him and the sun god, Ra, took her as his goddess.”

            “Get to the point,” Alix said.

            “I am. Tutankhamun wanted to bring his princess back to life by offering the sun god a new wife. The scene illustrates a ritual he devised. However, nobody has ever fully deciphered the hieroglyphics, but I have. It’s a magic chant that needs to be recited in order to complete the ritual. I’m sure of it. I just need the scepter and I can carry out the ritual.”

            “I mean, that’s cool and all, but it looks like you need a human sacrifice for the ritual. Aren’t we long past that?” Alix asked.

            Alim sighed. “Jalil, I love the interest you take in your study, but even if it were to work, I can’t allow you to do that.”

            “Yeah. And the human sacrifice thing again. Who would you even use for it? Did you even think of that?”

            “Indeed, I did. The lucky sacrifice I picked is none other than Chloe Bourgeois,” Jalil announced.

            Jalil pulled out a crudely drawn imitation of Chloe. Alix snickered while Alim scowled.

            “Alix, don’t laugh at that.”

            “I mean, it’s kinda funny,” Alix admitted.

            “No, it’s not, young lady,” Alim scolded.

            Alix pursed her lips as Alim stepped closer to Jalil.

            “As I’ve said, I admire your dedication and passion for history and the supernatural aspects of it, but I cannot allow this. Not only because I cannot stake my entire career and our livelihood on a potential legend, but I will not let you indulge in these murderous fantasies.”

            “Don’t you see it’s perfect? We could discover the secret to resurrection and keep Alix safe. No more anger, no more worries.”

            “How would this help her?”

            “Because Chloe is clearly a focal point for a lot of Alix’s anger and stress. We remove that and-.”

            “Absolutely not. Jalil, do you hear yourself? We should be helping Alix work through it to the point. Not eliminating the cause without knowing the reason why. Without getting rid of the roots, it will spread. If not Chloe, it’ll be someone or something else.”

            “But-!”

            “Enough! I won’t hear of this anymore. I want you to take the day off, Jalil. I need you to get your head on straight before you even consider coming back here.”

            Jalil opened his mouth but closed it and stormed off.

            “Dad, you’re not upset that we aren’t making progress on my… issues, are you?” Alix asked.

            “Alix, honey, no. You are young and going through a lot of change in your life while dealing with a past trauma. It is a challenge, but we’ll handle it at the pace that you’re comfortable with. That is what matters most.”

            “But what if we never find out? What if I don’t get better?”

            “Sometimes that happens. Which, we just need to learn to adapt, just as our ancestors did. We are still human and capable of so much. Even if you never find the source of your anger and trauma, you’ll learn to adapt and live around it. Sometimes it’s all we can do. Much like your mother.”

            “Was she hurt?”

            “Well, let’s just say she didn’t have the upbringing you and Jalil have. Far from actually. It made her very slow to trust and guarded. I’m still amazed I got through her walls, but I’m glad I did. I got to be with the most amazing, flawed woman and human I’ve ever known. On top of that, we had two equally amazing and flawed children, just like we are.”

            “Is that why you push me to make friends?”

            “It is another reason, yes. I know it’s cliché to say love saved us, but it really did. I wasn’t half the man I was before I met your mom. She made sure to toughen me up and in return, I softened her. With me, she was able to open herself up, even if it was just a little.”

            “Did Mom have trouble too?”

            “Oh, yes. And I’d get to hear all about it, but that was all part of the process. It’s a slow and painful one, but one that must be taken at your own pace.”

            “Excuse me, but are you the Director of the museum?” Nathalie asked.

            Alim and Alix turned to the entrance where Adrien stood with Nathalie and Gorilla. Alim stepped forward.

            “I am. May I help you?”

            “My boss’s son heard about this exhibit arriving and wanted to visit it to gather information for a school project. Is it open?” Nathalie explained.

            “It may not be open just yet, but I can allow this. After all, my own daughter has been doing the same. Uh, Alix?”

            Alix stepped up beside Alim. “Yeah?”

            “Would you assist him while Jalil is out for the day?”

            “Do I have to?”

            “No, but I would appreciate it.”

            Alix considered, approached Adrien, and gave him her notes. “Give these back to me or you will hurt.”

            “That’s not what I exactly had in mind,” Alim remarked.

            “Sorry, Dad, but I do have to get to roller derby.”

            Alim’s eyes widened. “I forgot about roller derby! It’s not a match today, is it?”

            “No, just practice.”

            “Thank goodness. Do you need a ride?”

            “Nah, I’m good. Thanks though.”

            “Stay safe, Alix. See you for lunch!”

            Alix waved goodbye and headed for the museum exit. She stopped when a tall, muscular man with roseish black skin, blue glowing eyes, and decked out in gold Egyptian jewelry, shendyt, and mask. She eyed Jalil’s scarab necklace in the collection of jewelry.

            “Jalil?” Alix asked.

            “Jalil is gone. I’m the Pharoah!”

            Alix grimaced and ran. She headed back to the Tutankhamun exhibit. She made it down the steps when Pharoah blocked her path. She skidded to a stop and scrambled back.

            “You’re fast, Alix, but not fast enough.”

            “Enough, Jalil! Cut the fucking crap!” Alix roared.

            “Alix?” Alim called.

            Pharoah turned where Alim’s voice came from. Alix took the opportunity and ran to hide. She transformed into Bloody Bug and ran back to the exhibit. She spotted Pharoah approaching Alim while Adrien, Nathalie, and Gorilla made their escape. She chunked her yo-yo in, and it wrapped around Alim. She pulled him out of Pharoah’s path.

            “Go! I’ll keep him busy!” Bloody Bug yelled.

            Alim hesitated, then ran.

            Bloody Bug turned as Pharoah closed the gap. Her eyes widened to see his mask had shifted to a lion’s head. He landed a blow on her side and sent her into the wall. The impact created a crater with her plastered to the bottom of it. She took a sharp breath as she felt the pain through her suit. He reached in, grabbed her face, and lifted her up.

            “Fucking bastard! That hurt!” Bloody Bug roared.

            “Then let’s make this easy for both of us. Give me your earrings.”

            “Over my dead body! Lucky Charm!”

            Ladybugs swirled and created an unassuming box. Pharoah laughed and picked it up.

            “Is this the best you can do, little bug?”

            Bloody Bug snarled and swung her legs up. She hit the corner of the box and it exploded. Pharoah yelled as she was propelled back. She rolled and staggered to her feet. She headed out of the museum as she heard his furious screams. She got as much distance between her and Louvre as possible. She slipped into an alleyway and de-transformed. She leaned against a wall and groaned.

            “That hurt.”

            “This is bad. We should go see Master,” Tikki said.

            “My thoughts too, Tikki. I think we should use elation. What do you think?”

            “Maybe call Bomb Bee back too?”

            Alix nodded. She stuck Tikki in her cap and headed for Wang Fu’s massage parlor. She headed in and found him finishing with a patient.

            “Ah, my next client. I’ll see you next week,” Wang Fu said to the patient.

            Alix slipped past the patient and shut the door. “I’m going to need help again.”

            “Twice in a row? It’s not that one girl again, is it?”

            “I’d rather that. No, my brother was akumatized into this demigod thing. He had a normal mask, then it was a lions, and then I was seismic punched into a wall with my own impact crater. Still feel the sting of it.”

            “Not to mention she blew up the exhibit and scepter that Jalil wanted to use to perform an ancient sacrificial ritual. So, he’s going to be coming right for her,” Tikki added.

            Wang Fu’s eyes widened. “That’s… concerning to say the least. Alright, one moment.”

            Alix took a seat while Wang Fu retrieved the Miraculous Box. She lifted her shirt to check for bruising, but didn’t’ see anything. She had expected to see a massive black bruise of Pharoah’s fist in her side.

            “Don’t worry. So long as you have me on, you won’t sustain any injuries, though you’ll feel the pain still,” Tikki reassured.

            “Fucking lovely,” Alix groaned.

            “Alright, here we are. Make your choices,” Wang Fu said.

            “How many am I allowed?” Alix asked.

            Wang Fu considered. “I’ll lend you three this time. Just as before, they are to be returned immediately after.”

            “Well, I know I want elation and action, but what would you suggest for a third?”

            Wang Fu considered, then took off the turtle shell bracelet he wore. “This belongs to the kwami of protection. I think you can guess what it does.”

            Alix snorted. “I don’t know. It might take a lot of guesses. Oh, you have anything I could give Tikki to recharge?”

            Wang Fu nodded. He left and returned shortly after with a plate of store-bought cookies. Tikki munched on a few before she flew up.

            “All good.”

            “Good. Saddle up, it’s going to be a long run,” Alix said.

            “We aren’t transforming?”

            “You said it yourself. He’s coming for Bloody Bug. It’d take longer, but we’d keep the others safe until we get the jewels to them. Now, in the cap.”

            Tikki giggled and hid under Alix’s cap. Alix messaged Marinette, asking where she and Alya were. She waited a minute when Marinette said she and Alya were at Places des Vosages. She put her phone away and headed to the location. She spotted them with Nino, sitting on the fountain. She slipped into an alleyway, transformed, and lassoed the three of them. She pulled them into the alley with her.

            “Woah! Bloody Bug? What’s up, dude?” Nino asked.

            “No time. I need help. I decided to pick a fight with a god and pissed them off. You three are going to help.”

            Alya squealed and jumped forward. Bloody Bug handed Alya the bee comb. Alya bounced, put the comb in her hair, and transformed into Bomb Bee.

            Nino’s jaw dropped as he pointed at Bomb Bee.

            “Surprised? You should be.”

            Bloody Bug snapped her fingers, getting Nino’s attention. She held up the panja bracelet for Marinette and the shell bracelet for Nino. “You two have the same deal as Alya. You get these for one time, help me, and give them back. Marinette, prove yourself strong and not too soft-hearted by accepting elation. Nino, you’re just here, so congratulations.”

            Marinette put on the panja bracelet while Nino put on the shell bracelet. Orbs shot out and circled them before they morphed into a magenta tiger kwami and a green turtle kwami.

            “Alright, make this snappy you two. We have a god hunting me,” Bloody Bug urged.

            “Oh my. Very well. I am Wayzz, kwami of protection. Pleasure to meet you, young man.

            “And I’m Roarr! Kwami of elation at your service, girlie!”

            “Tell them what they can do and how to transform,” Bloody Bug interjected.

            “Right. You can generate a shield saying ‘Shelter.’ To transform, say, ‘Wayzz, shell on.’ To de-transform, say, ‘Wayzz, shell off,’” Wayzz explained.

            “And for me, when you say ‘Clout,’ you can deliver a devastating sucker punch! Oh, and “Roarr, stripes on,’ to transform and ‘Roarr, stripes off,’ to de-transform,” Roarr yelled.

            “Be careful with these powers. One per transformation and then you have five minutes before you turn back. Now, suit up,” Bloody Bug ordered.

            “Wayzz, shell on!”

            “Roarr, stripes on!”

~~

            “Sekhmet, give me your strength!” Pharoah demanded.

            Chat Noir ran in as Pharoah’s mask shifted to a lion. Pharoah clapped his hands together that sent a shockwave that repelled Chat Noir. Chat Noir scrambled to his feet as Pharoah grabbed his face.

            “Where is that wretch, Bloody Bug?”

            “Couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to, which I don’t.”

            “You’ll soon change that tune when I-,” Pharoah started.

            “Hey, ugly!” Bloody Bug yelled.

            Pharoah turned to see Bloody Bug standing atop a nearby building. He laughed and dropped Chat Noir. He stepped forward when Bloody Bug jumped down and approached him.

            “Bug, what are you doing?” Chat Noir asked.

            “Oh, you know. The same thing as before.”

            Chat Noir raised a brow as Bloody Bug didn’t move. He stepped forward to intervene, but she held up a hand and counted down from five. He tilted his head when she got to one and used her Lucky Charm that created a simple book.

            “A book? That’s just as useless as your bomb,” Pharoah mocked.

            “See, that’s where you’re wrong. The book is a trident true that’s never failed me before.”

            “We’ll see about that.”

            Pharoah reached for Bloody Bug, but she jumped back. She hurled the book at his head that staggered him. Chat Noir jumped in and knocked Pharoah off his feet temporarily. Pharoah got back to his feet as a massive spinning top slammed into him. Bomb Bee and a cerise tiger heroine stood atop the spinning toy.

            Chat Noir’s jaw dropped, and eyes widened seeing the tiger girl. He was captivated by her simple, yet beautiful tiger-themed suit that was cerise, the perfect blend of red and pink, of femininity and aggression, accented elegantly with bronze stripes. Her deep magenta hair was pulled back into a pair of high pigtails that whipped wildly in the wind. All that paled in comparison to her savage, orange tiger eyes that shone with a wild delight.

            “Cowabunga, my dudes!”

            Chat Noir snapped out of his trace as a guy in a turtle themed superhero suit shield surfed past him, pulled along by Bomb Bee. He tilted his head at the nagging familiarity of the turtle hero’s voice.

            “Curse you, Bloody Bug! Too cowardly to face me alone?” Pharoah roared.

            “Aww, is the cowardly lion too scared to face us?” Bomb Bee mocked.

            “Excuse me?”

            “C’mon, meow meow. Let’s see how those tiny claws compare to a real wildcat.”

            Bomb Bee gestured to the tiger hero, who stood ready to fight. Pharoah shook his head and went for Bloody Bug, but the turtle hero cut him off as Pharoah’s attack bounced off the turtle shield.

            “I don’t think so, my dude. You want Bloody Bug, you’ll need to defeat me. Before you defeat me, you’ll need to beat them.”

            Pharoah roared and reared his arm back for another attack.

            “Shelter!”

            A dome-like turtle shield covered the turtle hero, Bloody Bug, and Chat Noir. Pharoah pounded on the barrier, but it wouldn’t relent.

            “Anyway, will he does that, name’s Carapace, dude Noir.”

            “You… seem familiar. Have we met?”

            “Can’t say we have. If we have, hit me up. I wouldn’t mind this hero gig again.”

            Chat Noir hummed as he looked back at the tiger hero. Pharoah finally turned away from them back to Bomb Bee and the tiger.

            “Fine. I’ll squish you two first.”

            “Let’s test the strength of your claws, kitten. Clout!” the tiger exclaimed.

            Chat Noir watched as the tiger and Pharoah’s fists connected that sent shockwaves out that ripped apart the street. They stood even for a brief second before the tiger pushed back against Pharoah. He struggled to fight against her when Bomb Bee snuck around and used Venom to paralyze him.

            Carapace dropped the shield, allowing Bloody Bug to take the necklace and break it. The Akuma flew up from the broken pendant. She caught and purified it, then grabbed her book and threw it up.

            “Miraculous!”

            The book burst into a swarm of ladybugs that repaired the damage done while Pharoah reverted to Jalil.

            “What happened? Where am I?” Jalil asked.

            “You were akumatized. I had destroyed the Tutankhamun exhibit and painted a target on myself. Now, any reason you went into that exhibit?” Bloody Bug asked.

            “I… wanted to used Tutankhamun’s scepter to perform a ritual. I hoped to prove one of my theories true, but also protect my little sister.”

            “Little sister?” the tiger asked.

            “Yeah. She had a foul run-in with that awful Chloe Bourgeois and was nearly consumed by her rage. It sent her spiraling and I just… I wanted to keep her from that happening. She was so scared of it and I hated seeing her so broken down. I felt like I couldn’t do anything when I should be able to. I’m her older brother, and I can’t do anything to help her. What good am I to her?”

            Bomb Bee started towards Jalil when Bloody Bug knelt.

            “Your sister sounds like a hard case to crack, which I can relate to. It’s not easy going through life with those challenges. She’s going to have her highs and lows as we all do, but the biggest thing you can do is just be there for her. As long as you do that, you’re doing great.”

            Jalil’s eyes widened as Bloody Bug saw a flash of recognition. He reached out and pulled her into his arms. “Thank you! Thank you so much! I promise I’ll be there, always!”

            Bloody Bug chuckled nervously. She patted Jalil’s head, then pushed him away as her earrings chirped.

            “Bug, you’re about to change back,” Chat Noir said.

            “Fuck. Cat, get this man back to his home. Carapace, Bomb Bee, and Lady Tigress, move it.”

            Chat Noir watched the four of them all head in different directions. He watched the tiger, Lady Tigress, vanish before he scooped up Jalil.

            “Where am I taking you?” Chat Noir asked.

            “Uh, the Louvre.”

            “Right-o! I’ll have you there faster than you can say ‘meow.’”

~~

            Alix returned home after she gave the miraculous jewels back to Wang Fu. She managed to swing by roller derby, but she had missed practice. Her coach would have laid into her, but she explained Jalil was akumatized and she didn’t want to put the team at risk, which shut her coach up. She had checked her phone periodically on her way home to see Chat Noir had eagerly messaged her, asking about Lady Tigress. She had put her phone on silent as she ignored him, not wanting to indulge his curosity.

            Alix headed for the stairs when Alim called to her. She turned as he grabbed her shoulders and looked her over.

            “Are you ok? Are you hurt? Any injuries, bruises, or anything?” Alim asked.

            “I’m fine. It was just practice, Dad. We don’t actually hurt each other until match time.”

            “You’re talking about… derby? No, Alix, not that. I’m talking about your fight with Pharoah. You’re not hurt, are you? I saw the impact and the overall destruction of the exhibit, but-.”

            “Wait, Dad, you aren’t saying I’m Bloody Bug, are you?”

            “Alix, you can’t fool me. Well, maybe. I didn’t recognize you immediately. It was like I saw you, but it wasn’t you. It was… such a strange feeling not being able to recognize you from your face. As your father, I should, but I couldn’t. I likely wouldn’t have until you spoke. I didn’t place the voice immediately, but I know your tone and speech patterns. They’re just like your mother’s.”

            “Yeah, you can’t hide the truth from us, Alix!” Jalil yelled.

            Alix glanced over as Jalil ran down the stairs and joined the conversation.

            “I heard it too. It was harder for me to place, but I caught on once I recognized where I’ve heard such a tone before.”

            “Ah, fuck it. Fine, yes. I’m Bloody Bug,” Alix admitted.

            Jalil gasped. “We knew it! How do you do it? Did you gain them from some ancient ritual or a blessing from an old god?”

            Alix rolled her eyes and took off her cap. Jalil and Alim looked at Tikki, who was curled up taking a nap.

            “Interesting. Looks like Jalil’s theory of magic creatures might have some weight after all,” Alim mumbled.

            “Does that mean you’ll-,” Jalil started.

            “Absolutely not. Jalil, we have to keep this secret. That means no interrogating whatever this creature is or revealing any information regarding Alix’s superhero identity.”

            “So, wait, you’re not mad? And you’re not going to tell me to stop?”

            Alim sighed. “I would like to, but I know you. You listen when you want to but have developed a habit of disregarding the rules. Not all, but a lot of them. I know if I told you to stop, you’d just keep doing this. It’s how you are and how your mother was. You both are the types to learn by doing. It won’t matter how much I warn you otherwise, you’ll still do it to find out for yourself.”

            “That’s not always true. I listen to you sometimes.”

            “Yes, but would you listen to me on this?”

            “Probably not.”

            “Exactly. I don’t necessarily like it, but I can’t stop you. I want to keep you safe, but I can’t always. You’re in those stages where you are becoming your own person. As much as I’d rather shelter you, I know she wouldn’t want that. She’d have encouraged and supported you, so that’s what I’ll do. For you and for her.”

            Alix took a shaky breath. “I appreciate it, but you don’t have to do everything for her if you don’t want to.”

            Alim chuckled as a tear fell. “Well, maybe not, but it’s how I can honor her memory and wishes. To see you both happy and strong, just like she will have always wanted. For you both to live a life where you could be yourself. If being Bloody Bug is part of that for you, I will support it and you.”

            Tears fell from Alix’s eyes as she hugged Alim. “Thank you.”

            Tikki yawned and sat up. “What’s going on?”

            “Ah, she’s awake. Greetings, little creature. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Alim said.

            Tikki blinked. “Uh, Alix?”

            “They know. My voice gave it away,” Alix said.

            “Oh. Yeah, the glamor isn’t the best in this age, but we’re also not designed for this kind of environment. So, yeah,” Tikki remarked.

            “What’s the glamor do?” Jalil asked.

            “It masks our holder’s identity. The appearance is the big one, except it can’t mask the immutable like body mass and height. It can also hide the voice, but not necessarily the tone and speech. Which, I guess that’s how you figured it out, Mr. Kubdel?” Tikki asked.

            “Yes, but please, call me Alim.”

            “Well met, Alim. My name’s Tikki.”

            “Likewise, Tikki. Are you by chance hungry? Is that something you can do?” Alim asked.

            “She can and probably is. I didn’t have any extra snacks packed, so, yeah.”

            “Not to worry. I’ll help you with that. What do you eat, Tikki?”

            “Sugar. Preferably sweets.”

            “Well, that would explain the boxes I’ve been seeing from that one bakery run by Tom and Sabine.”

            “Yeah, I’ve been treating Tikki a little more. Plus, I had received a free box of macaroons from Tom last week for when Cat and I kept Marinette safe from Evillustrator.”

            “Treating me or yourself?” Tikki grumbled.

            “Hey! I get hungry too and they do have the best pastries in all of Paris. So, I’m allowed to indulge too,” Alix remarked.

            Alim chuckled. “Alright, you two. I can swing by and get some pastries for Tikki. Let you use your money on other things, Alix. Just make sure you’re still careful out there, ok?”

            “Always. Thank you, Dad.”

            Alim smiled and hugged Alix. “Always, Alix. I love you.”

            “I love you too, Dad.”

[monaisme]

Sicktember: Day 30

#30- Past Prompt of Your Choice! (2022 #17- Fainting/Syncope)

“Hey, FRIDAY!” Peter chirped as he entered into the private elevator that took him and anyone Mr. Stark deemed cool enough to the private floors. “Is Mr. Stark back in the penthouse yet or has Dr. Cho decided to punish him and keep him longer for ruining her Saturday off for making her come in to fix him up?”

AI or not, Peter was sure he could hear a smile in her response. “I am afraid Boss is still recovering in the med bay, much to his irritation, though I am certain that a visit from you would cheer him up. Shall I take you to directly to the floor?”

Peter leaned against the elevator hand rail, let his head fall back against the wall and closed his eyes, just to rest them for a minute. “That sounds great, FRIDAY, thank you.”

“You are very welcome,” the doors closed as she replied.

 “Whoa,” Peter jolted and threw his arms out for balance as the elevator started its normally steady ascent. “Is something wrong with the elevator, FRIDAY?” Peter asked, “The take off is usually a little more... smooth? No offense intended or anything.”

“None taken, Peter, however your inquiry along with your physical response to the elevator’s operation has initiated an automatic system-wide analysis which has just completed. Results do indicate that all systems are running at optimal efficiency. The elevator is fine.”

“Oh? Weird.” Peter answered back, not really having the energy to be bothered by the anomaly. “Thanks for checking that out, I guess?”

But FRIDAY didn’t let it go. “I would be ignoring my additional programming if I did not suggest that the balance issue could have something to do with your obvious fatigue. As well, if you take into account yesterday’s conflict, perhaps it would be advisable to have medical personnel do a quick check up while you visit with Boss? Shall I contact Dr. Cho and make the necessary arrangements for you?”

Peter shook his head. Taking a few deep breaths was already helping him to feel steadier, “Nah, I’m all good, but thanks for thinking of me... I mean...?” Did FRIDAY actually think of him, Peter wondered, or—the elevator arrived at the med bay floor and the doors opened before him—thoughts for another day, he guessed. “Have an awesome afternoon, FRIDAY. I’ll see you later!”

“Thank you, Peter.” FRIDAY replied and the elevator doors closed behind him. 

He made his way down the hall, his mind already letting go of the oddity of what had happened in favour of rehearsing what he could talk to Mr. Stark about. And like always, he prayed to whatever deity that he wouldn’t embarrass himself or bug the man anymore than Peter was sure he would. 

“Hello, Mr. Stark! How are you doing this beautiful afternoon?” Peter waved big, then smiled bigger, making a mental note that the AI had been accurate in her assessment of the man in the med bay bed.

“Oh, don’t be all sunshine and puppy farts to me, Mr. Parker.” Mr. Stark scowled. “And do not get me started on the mistreatment I’ve suffered here under the guise of ‘medical care’...” but apparently he had gotten started, “Can you believe that Cho has decided, in her grand omnipotence, to deny me... ME! coffee because it MAY interact with my pain meds... and the antibiotic that I’m on...”

Peter couldn’t help but stare. He knew the man had a bit of a caffeine addiction but—

Mr. Stark sighed, “... and my blood pressure medication.”

Peter snort laughed.

“Oh, you think this is funny, do you?” Mr. Stark apparently did too, as he realized his own ridiculousness, “To make matters worse, I dropped my Sudoku just before you came in here and haven’t been able to muster up the motivation to ask someone to come and pick it up for me because I’m still mad about the coffee thing.” Mr. Stark went full ham at this, smiling sweetly as he batted his eyelashes. “Peter, my dear, sweet intern, you wouldn’t happen to know someone who could help me out of this conundrum, would you?”

Peter huffed as he shook his head in amusement and leaned over to grab the book. This man was going to be the—

Peter had only blinked, he was sure. He heard the clatter of his shoulder falling into the metal frame of the bed Mr. Stark lay upon, and the man’s shouts as Peter mumbled that he was okay... he was okay... he was...

And Peter knew no more.

/-/-/

“I’m so embarrassed,” Peter grumped as he flung his arm across his pale face. “Stuck in bed because I swooned like a... like a...” Peter’s brain just couldn’t catch the words he needed.

“Relax, Pete,” Mr. Stark tried to comfort him. “I mean, if you’re going to pass out, there’s no better place than to do it than an already fully staffed med bay while you’re literally visiting little ol’ me.”

“Woulda’ stayed home if I knew this was gonna happen,” the boy muttered, then ignored Mr. Stark’s responding scowl. “It’s not fair. You’re the one who decided to play dodgeball with an alien and then break a leg in two places. I didn’t even get hurt... so not cool.”

“Well, maybe, maybe not, right? Only time will tell.”

Peter huffed in frustration. Could he be any more of an irritant?

“Relax, kid. They’re called aliens for a reason so who knows what mysterious diseases those things were potentially carrying. We’ll hang out while we wait for Dr. Cho to get May’s permission to come and grab a blood sample and do your work up, and then when it all comes back as Peter-normal, you can tell me you told me so and then abandon me for the amazing world beyond those med bay doors.”

Peter almost felt bad for Mr. Stark as he said that, stuck in bed with his leg casted and propped up with way too many pillows, and then, “Unless you do actually have some exotic alien disease and then I’ll be thinking of you while I sell off all of your video games so I can rent me a new intern.”

Peter rolled his head to look over to his mentor and glared. “I remember when I respected you, Mr. Stark,” then Peter sighed. “But it’s fine. I think May’s helping in surgery today, though so it may be a bit. And if I’m going to be stuck here, I may as well catch a nap.” Peter shifted onto his side, punched at his pillow, yanked his blanket up over his shoulder and closed his eyes. Yup, Peter thought to himself, a nap sounded perfect.

/-/-/

Peter couldn’t have been sleeping long when he woke to the sound of yelling and chaos. His eyes automatically flew to the bed next to him, afraid that something had gone wrong with Mr. Stark while he’d rested, but no—even Mr. Stark had propped himself up on his elbows and was staring beyond him to the hallway with the same confused look as Peter.  

“Wha’s happenin’?” Peter asked, still groggy.

Mr. Stark looked over to him and shook his head, “I’m pretty sure I just watched Clint being rolled down the hallway on a gurney with Nat following behind screaming something about Clint playing with bows and arrows inside the house like a six year old, and the next time he picked up his kit, he’s going to find straws and suction cups instead? Ugh.” Mr. Stark ran a hand down his exhausted face. “I hate translating Russian. It always sounds a little clunky to me, but oh, well.”

Peter’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You caught all of that... but... wait! You speak Russian, too?”

“Well, yeah.” Mr. Stark seemed to revel in Peter’s confusion. “What? Like it’s hard?”

Peter’s soul left his body for a moment. “Um, did you just quote...?”

Mr. Stark laughed, “Kid, there are depths to me that you’ll never know...”

And Peter believed him. In fact, Peter loved that he was getting to see the real Tony Stark, not just the man who put on an act in front of all the celebrity reporters and dickhead politicians who were forever calling him out for one stupid thing or another. Granted, Peter was still confused as to how someone as cool as Mr. Stark could even tolerate hanging around with someone as, well, Peter-like as him, but it was all good. Peter had some pretty amazing acting skills, too, even if he said so himself. He could make like he wasn’t terrified that Mr. Stark would call him out as a fraud and ban him from the tower, or that he wasn’t okay after being bullied and beaten at school every day, or exhausted from the nightmares of Ben- or the Vulture- or the both of them, or that his stomach wasn’t trying to eat itself from the ever-constant hunger because it was his fault that money was too tight and Ben was dead...

 Yup, Peter could hide his true self and all his imperfections easily enough...

But Peter caught himself before he drifted too far off and chuckled back at Mr. Stark’s reply, “I’m getting that.”

Dr. Cho rushed past their door.

“Oh.” Peter looked back over to Mr. Stark. “I think I’ll be waiting a while to get that blood work done, hey?”

Mr. Stark nodded and settled back into his pillows, “We suspected as much... unless something changes, so you might as well settle in, bud. Cho got what she needed from May and said she’d pop by when you woke up, but it would seem her attention has been diverted to elsewhere for the time being.”

Peter just smiled. “I guess but,” Peter caught sight of the clock on the wall. “Gosh. It’s getting late and I told Aunt May that I’d be home early to get my homework done.” Peter tossed back the blanket still covering his legs and swung himself around to sit on the edge facing Mr. Stark. “I promised to text her and everything.”

“Kid,” Mr. Stark sat back up again, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Why don’t you relax, and we’ll get one of the nurses in here to take care of things. I mean, Cho will be heartbroken that someone else got to play with her favourite patient, but at least we can make sure you’re alright before you leave. How does that sound?”

Peter gnawed at his lip. “It’s Sunday night, Mr. Stark. Aunt May has a standing order from my favourite Thai place on Sunday night... even if she’s working, and besides, I really do have a load of homework waiting for me that I should have done yesterday before...” Peter trailed off and his eyes fell onto Mr. Stark’s leg.

“Before all the real fun started? Sorry, Pete. There was no planning for this, but Aunt May already knows you’re here, right? We can always call and cancel your order for today if you’re worried about it—plus you know we’ll feed you here. And besides all that, what do you think she’d say if she knew you left before getting you checked out after passing out?”

Peter gulped, “Wait. Aunt May knows that I—?” he couldn’t even say the word. He was already such a pain in the ass. She was going to worry and—

Mr. Stark shifted his body as much as he could to face Peter, “Buddy? You knew this, remember? Cho called May about the blood work? She was waiting for you to wake up?” He looked concerned, “I was going to sell your video games?”

Peter tried to think back, felt his cheeks heat as the memories of their conversations came back to him. “oh.” His breathing picked up a little. “Sorry. I do remember...” He ran his free hand through his hair as he tried to calm down. “I think I’m just losing track ‘cuz  of the nap.”

“Hey, Petey?” Peter missed his mentor inconspicuously press the call button for the nurse’s desk lying at his side. “What’s going on in that head of yours? Is something up? You’re worrying me a little.”

“I just—” Gosh, he was feeling weak—jittery—from that scare. “I don’t want to be a bother to anyone so I’m gonna go—” Peter slid off the side of the bed, kept a steadying hand on the mattress while he waited for the worst of the shakiness to pass. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

Peter exhaled hard. “You have no idea, Mr. Stark. I’ll get out of your hair now—I’ll see you on...” Peter let go of the railing, took a step and—

/-/-/

“Whoops!” A pair of strong arms caught Peter under the arms as his knees buckled and his eyes rolled back and fell shut. “I gotcha,’ kid.”

Tony fell back into the bed in relief. “Holy shit, Cap! I don’t know where you came from, but nice catch!”

“Thanks,” Steve shifted, then crouched to bring an arm up under Peter’s knees to lift him more comfortably, “The nurses were a little busy keeping Nat from murdering Clint so when I heard the call button, I figured I’d come and see if I could help with whatever you needed,” Steve looked down at the kid in his arms, “I guess I could.” Steve looked over his shoulder at the rumpled med bay bed. “Do I even bother trying to guess where I should be placing him?”

Tony let out an almost hysterical laugh. “Oh, the grey hairs this kid is gonna give me!” He gestured toward the bed, “Yes. That is exactly where he is supposed to be... and where he’d better stay! Geez! I have half a mind to get you to find some restraints for him.”

Ignoring Tony’s rant for the moment, Steve did some fancy manoeuvring and managed to get Peter back on the bed and nestled safely under the covers. “There. Now, how’s about I go and find an actual nurse for you instead?” Steve turned back to face Tony. “They may have a better plan of action than yours.”

Tony snorted. “I’m sure.”

Steve simply smiled. “I’ll do that then,” Steve reached out and gave Tony’s shoulder a supportive squeeze. “Is there anything I can help with that you need?”

“If you’d have asked me an hour ago, I’d have gotten you to pick up my Sudoku and then none of us would be in this mess, but now? I’m good.” Tony replied, his standard bravado in play. “But thanks for asking.”

Steve stared for second, then leaned to scoop the puzzle book up off the floor. Tossing it casually onto Tony’s bed, Steve nodded, “Done. I’ll get a nurse in here right away then.”

“Perfect.”

Steve made to leave the room when Tony grabbed his arm, “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

 The facade was gone for this briefest of moments, “Really. Thanks for catching the kid. He’s...”

Steve just nodded, suddenly getting what should have been so obvious for witnessing all of their interactions. “He’s your kid.”

“Yeah,” A look of relief passed across Tony’s face as his teammate and friend got it. “He is.”

/-/-/

“Ugh.” Peter shifted a little, trying to get comfortable in his bed, but had no luck. He shifted a little more, finally making his way up onto his left side, only to find himself tangled into an—

“Wha—?” Peter fell onto his back as he fought and failed to sort out the leads attached to his hospital gowned body.

“Wha- is right.” Mr. Stark piped up from the next bed over. “And I’d stop messing with all those wires or Dr. Cho is going to have some very choice words for you.”

Peter froze, closed his eyes, and then dropped his hands to his side in defeat. “Ugh.”

“As eloquent as ever, I see,” Mr. Stark teased, “but seriously, kid. Stay still. I’ve already hit the call button again and I’m guaranteed that this time an actually medical person will show up.”

And if Peter wasn’t already confused, “What does that even mean?”

Mr. Stark chuckled quietly, “That means I have blackmail material for a future date, now hush and be a good patient. I think I hear someone coming.”

Peter’s attention turned to the door as Dr. Cho walked into the room. She smiled over at Mr. Stark quickly before turning her attention to him. “Mr. Parker,” she addressed him as warmly as she usually did when he was an unfortunate occupant of the medical floor, “We have two matters of business to address and then we can get down to business, okay?”

Peter nodded dumbly. What did that even mean?

“Perfect,” she grabbed a stool from the corner of the room and rolled it up to Peter’s bedside. “Now, the most important matter to discuss— Did you know how much of a jerk your Aunt’s boss is?”

Mr. Stark barked a laugh even as Peter blinked in confusion, and then sighed. “Yeah, I do.” Peter groaned as he asked, “Did he even let you talk to her? Sometimes he won’t even get messages to her until the end of her shift, and by then it’s too late, so why even bother, you know?”

Dr. Cho took hold of his hand and gave it a squeeze, “Well, I can tell you that I did speak with her... and you shouldn’t have issue with that everagain either, so you are aware.” The glint in her eye told him that something big had gone down behind the scenes. “And while she knows what’s going on, she’s apparently working the surgery unit today and can’t be pulled away.”

Peter was clear enough that he remembered that much and nodded. “I know.” Sometimes, being the kid of someone in the healthcare industry meant sacrifice.

“But she asked me to tell you that she loves you and that you are to listen to what the doctor tells you.”

Peter smiled shyly, “Okay.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Dr. Cho pulled her hand away, patting it gently, then tapped at something on the screen of the tablet she produced from her lab coat pocket. “The second point of discussion is simple semantics,” she looked over Peter to Mr. Stark. “While May Parker cannot be here in person, she is asking that you act in her stead, Tony. She trusts that you’ll be able to make the appropriate decisions on her behalf and expects to have a serious discussion about becoming official co-parents in the coming days.”

Now it was Mr. Stark’s turn to be confused. “What?”

Dr. Cho simply looked at him and grinned big, “Congratulations, Tony. It’s a boy.”

Peter found it funnier than it probably was in actuality, given that Dr. Cho almost never joked with him and he was still way too tired to be dealing with anything, so slapping a hand over his mouth to muffle his snickering seemed the best solution.

Mr. Stark glared and waggled a finger at him from his own bed. “Keep it up, Petey. I’m pretty sure she just said I’m the boss of you, and you know what that means, don’t you?”

Peter didn’t know how to answer.

“Brussel sprouts, kid. You get nothing but brussel sprouts while your under my roof.”

Peter giggled again, which seemed to be Mr. Stark’s goal judging from the satisfied smile he was wearing.

To Dr. Cho, Mr. Stark replied, “Fine. I accept... even if it means extra visits with the scary aunt.” He shifted in his own bed, “I see that tablet there. Do I need to sign something?”

Dr. Cho was up and walking around to Mr. Stark in a flash, even as she explained things to Peter. “Now, it’s pretty obvious that we went ahead and did that blood draw and a general assessment while you were unconscious. I’m sorry about that,” she didn’t sound at all apologetic. “But—” Mr. Stark signed off with a flourish as she spoke, “with it being your second episode, I had to make the call, so—”

“So.” Mr. Stark repeated as he handed back the tablet, “Tell us, Dr. Cho. What’s going on with the illustrious Peter Parker over here?”

Peter knew that her smile was supposed to be disarming, but that didn’t stop the feeling of dread when her heard her say, “Some of your blood work results were a little confusing. Would you be willing to fill in some information for me?”

/-/-/

He should have said ‘no.’

But Penis Parker, cry baby, imposter hero, killer of uncles and parasite to every person who’d decided he was falsely worth something, well, he doesn’t say no, now does he?

Stupid- stupid- stupid.

And how hard would it have been, really? He was fifteen, and allowed to have a say in his medical care, right? He should have asked to wait until Aunt May was available and then, with her work schedule, and everything else going on in the world, she would have forgotten about it entirely—eventually—or at least until a time when Peter Parker could figure out a way to be less pathetic.

“Come on, Pete.” Mr. Stark tried coaxing him out from under the blankets he’d shoved over his head as the questions from Dr. Cho had became more and more invasive.

(“Are you getting enough to eat, Peter?” Dr. Cho asked as she looked at his blood test results. “There are some significant deficiencies being flagged here and I’m concerned.”)

“Peter, please.” Tony was sounding frustrated.

(“Do you have issues with eating in general, Peter?” Dr. Cho asked as she requested Peter lower the hospital gown, only to reveal his protruding ribs. )

“We need to talk about this, buddy.” he pleaded, then cussed, “Damned leg!”

(“Is your aunt aware that this is such an extreme issue, Peter?” Dr. Cho almost accused.)

“And no one’s in trouble, I promise. You said that May doesn’t know, and we believe you, but we need to make a plan to fix this, is all!”

(“Hold on? Are these bruises from the battle yesterday, Peter? Why do they look older than what we have noted in your file, Peter?” Dr. Cho had realized. “Is someone hurting you? At home? No? At school then?”)

“Please, Peter. All we—all I want to do is help—all I’ve ever wanted to do was help.” Mr. Stark’s voice cracked.

He’d been able to ignore the man’s pleas up until that point, and then—well, had Mr. Stark sounded almost as broken as Peter?

Peter was getting hot under the blankets.

“—If that means we’re moving you and your Aunt into the tower while we figure out the whole metabolism thing so we can guarantee you have enough, then that’s what we’ll do. I’ll pay your rent. I’ll replace your backpacks and textbooks and all that other stuff, okay? And I’ll even do the talking when we tell your Aunt everything even though you know how terrified I am of her and would rather Pepper do it.”

Peter ran a hand down his face, wiping away his tears.

“And—shit!” Mr. Stark had an epiphany. “Does that mean we need to worry about pain meds, too? Peter? Oh, shit-shit-shit-shit-shit! May really is going to kill me! How could I have not considered! Cap is the same way! Dammit all! I’m going to have to call Bruce. We’ll have to get—wait!—I’m getting ahead of myself here.” Mr. Stark took a deep breath. “Just-- we need to communicate about stuff like this. No one wants you to suffer, Roo!”

Peter froze, and his breath caught. Even the thickness of his blankets couldn’t muffle it.

Then Tony whispered a quiet, “oh,” in response. “Roo? Just hang on a minute, ‘kay?”

Peter heard Mr. Stark depress the call button and it chiming down the hallway.

Peter then heard the nurse’s footsteps come down the hallway and enter the room. “Is everything all right in here, Mr. Stark?” she inquired.

“Yes, everything is fine.” Peter could even hear his smile. “I’m just hoping we can find a way to move this bed right next to that bed, is all. The kid needs a bit of a snuggle and I’m a bit stuck, as you can see.”

She didn’t verbally reply, but Peter could hear her footsteps again as she called another staff member to assist as they navigated squeaky breaking systems and sticky wheels. Eventually, the two beds and medical equipment were repositioned as requested.

A whispered, “thank you,” from Mr. Stark, and the nurse left the room, closing the door behind her.

No one said anything for a minute or two, and then Mr. Stark cleared his throat. “So, uh, I’m going to shimmy on over a little bit, if that’s okay with you?”

Peter said nothing.

“Okay- okay- I can work with that. Don’t want to be creepy, right? And I am one hundred and fifty million percent about the consent. So—I am shimmying less than I had originally planned,” Mr. Stark was making a physical effort from the sound of it, “but I will only be shimmying to the edge of my bed.”

Peter heard some rustling.

“And there. Now, buckle up, kid, ‘cause it’s story time. I’ve been thinking about some stuff while you were sleeping, so I’m gonna tell you some things, and I hope you hear what I’m saying because I should have said this awhile ago.”

This was the moment Peter had been bracing for. It was over—no more lab days, no more suit—

And then Tony spoke. “You, Peter Parker, are a good... no, an amazing kid— and I, Tony Stark, am—” he paused, seemed to be looking for a particular word, then continued, “as invested in Peter Parker as I am in Spider-Man, if not more so... and I am so damned sorry for our rough start.

“I am embarrassed that I haven’t taken the time to get to know you well enough that you’d feel safe coming to me with things, because from what I can see of you, you deserve every good thing—and that includes having enough to eat, to be pain free—and I know I can’t control all of the Spider-Man stuff, but if you’re being bullied at school, please- please- please! Know that I revel in destroying the lives of dickheads... ask Pepper. I’m not even lying a little bit.

“And believe it or not, I know what it’s like to not want to be seen—to talk, so I’m not even gonna ask—but I’m putting my hand out here, kid, and if you’ve heard me, I’m gonna ask you to take it, please.”

He contemplated not, Peter did, but it felt cruel to ignore all that Mr. Stark had said. And he hadn’t asked if he believed him, only heard.

And Peter had heard, and maybe even hoped a little for the first time since they’d watched Uncle Ben being lowered into the ground.

Peter’s hand crept forward.

Mr. Stark’s breath caught. “I see you, Peter. I see.”

And Peter’s hand slid out from the safety of the dark, and thought that maybe... just maybe, Mr. Stark did.