#so in the end he starts hiding it so dys wont know/be uncomfortable and then it leads to. well. u kno. colony hero/unromanced+non2nd dys

[hirokiyuu]

idk theres a lot of ways to take dishsoap!!!! there's a lot of ways to make them good for each other or bad for each other or playing off each others good points or bad points and it's fun!!!!!!

[fruggo]

I’m not gonna lie this would be the first time I requested something so if I do something wrong I’m really sorry,

Can I request Quentin, Leon, Steve, and Frank meeting a female reader who, before the entity took her, had already faced off her own killer?

And this made her kinda tough? Like she knows what she’s doing

oh my gosh thank you so much!! this is my first ever request to fulfill so we’re in this together :DD seriously i really appreciate you!

i decided to do a headcanon kind of format for this, i hope that’s okay! also these are my absolute favorite boys aaahhh this is so fun for a first request

the boys x tough f!reader (part 1) (part 2)

warnings: swearing, reader kicks frank in the shins

word count: ~700-1k each (sorry if it’s too long…i kind of got really excited and uhhh maybe i got carried away,, yeah. sorry)

(also i'll be honest quentin's is not my best. that was the one that got eaten by the tumblr abyss and i had to write all over again, and it just didn't come out the same way that i wanted it to at first :( i did the other boys hoping i'd get some inspiration to fix it afterwards, but i got kind of stuck. so it's not my favorite, but i hope you like it okay! i want to write better stuff for quentin in the future, he is my favorite sleepy boy <3)

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

when you arrived in the realm, everyone thought you would be the same as the others—frightened, confused, and overwhelmed. but you took this nightmarish challenge in stride, adapting to your surroundings quickly and learning far faster than anybody else had.

your past experiences had made you independent and sometimes distrustful, so once you had the gist of things, you didn’t need (or want) anybody to tell you what to do. and nobody was inclined to, either—your instincts naturally told you what to do and when.

the first time you met quentin was a little awkward, i wont lie. you were wary of speaking to the other survivors; you weren’t going to let yourself get hurt again.

it was the beginning of a trial. the nurse’s fatigued shrills could be heard all the way from the edge of the wrecker’s yard, but you immediately started work on a generator, unafraid. a few minutes passed, when soft footsteps indicated someone’s approach. it was quentin—he started to work on the wires without hesitation.

you were a little surprised, only because the other survivors usually left you to your own devices. you got the impression that maybe they were intimidated by you, which you didn’t particularly mind. but you wouldn’t particularly mind some company now and then, either.

it was comfortably silent for a while, before quentin spoke up.

“what’s your name?” he asked, gaze still focused on the wires.

hesitating a little, you told him. then you said, “and you’re quentin, right?” you already knew most everybody’s name just from observation.

“that i am,” he replied.

then it was quiet for a while.

very quiet.

well, what were you supposed to say now?

the silence was deafening and very, very uncomfortable to you. normally you were okay with a quiet atmosphere, but it was the kind of silence that buzzed in your ears, chewed at your stomach, filled the area as if it were something solid. man, what were you supposed to say—

it was then that you realized poor quentin had fallen asleep, his face smooshed onto the generator. his cheek was now covered in grease and grime.

it made you smile—only a little. you finished repairing the generator on your own, causing quentin to wake with a start and bang his head on the pole protruding from the machine. he swore like a sailor until he realized where he was, smiling sheepishly.

“sorry, i wanted you to have your nap. you looked really tired,” you said. you also couldn’t stop admiring the dark grease on his face—it was really quite funny. and no, you weren’t going to say anything about it. it could stay there a little longer.

you spent the rest of the trial running the nurse around the whole wrecker’s yard, only suffering one injury until the end. quentin had no idea how you had been here for such little time and already knew how to outplay the nurse, one of the most difficult killers to survive against. he still didn’t know how to do it well himself, so he was thankful for you.

however, once the exit gates were opened, you found yourself in a bad spot. the nurse had caught you in an empty clearing with nowhere to hide or predict her moves, and she downed you instantly. quentin cringed hearing your agonized scream as you were hooked.

there was no way you were dying on his watch. once he was sure the nurse was gone, he gently lifted you from the hook, pulling out his medical kit to begin patching up your shoulder.

despite the pain, you had enough energy to smile at him and say, “thanks, nap boy.”

quentin feigned offense with a wry grin, pulling out some gauze. “is that all i’m going to be to you? nap boy?”

you hummed, pretending to be deep in thought. “maybe you won’t be if you get me out of here.”

“that won’t be a problem," he smiled, quirking an eyebrow.

“show me the gates and then we’ll talk, nap boy.”

from then on, quentin became your go-to source for supplies and general comfort. you weren't scared of this place, but it was nice to know you had somebody who would really be there for you.

he would often fall asleep on your shoulder at the campfire--he really was a nap boy, and you would never let him live that down.

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘

leon could not tear his eyes away from you the first time you arrived in the realm. your presence was strong; he could tell you weren’t one to back away from a fight.

most of the survivors had been (rightly) confused and disoriented when they popped into the realm, but you tried to accept it quickly. you didn’t like it, in fact all you wanted was just to go home, but you came to terms with it and jumped into trials headfirst like an insane person.

that was the courageous part about you—maybe you were scared, but you did scary shit anyways. in fact, you did scary shit to spite the fear, to prove to yourself that you were strong enough to overcome it.

and leon couldn’t lie, that was cool as hell.

you had tunnel vision and didn’t pay much notice to the other survivors; you were too focused on learning about this place and getting out of trials. having gone through some real shit, being here hardly came as a surprise to you. if you were going to be here forever, what was the point in mourning? might as well just accept it and try your hardest to survive. maybe someday this sick game would end, but for now, you were prepared to fight for your life and that’s all you could really focus on.

your first trial was not the best. even though you were resourceful, you didn’t know what the objective was yet, so you weren’t sure where to start other than analyzing your surroundings. luckily for you, leon kennedy was one of your teammates.

after being downed immediately by bubba’s chainsaw and tossed onto a hook, you were amazingly resilient to the pain. leon was the one to lift you from the hook, and he took out his medkit to help patch your wound, but you flinched away from him before he could touch you.

he was puzzled. “what’s wrong?” he asked. he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but he wanted to help you.

you hesitated and looked him over before mumbling, “i’m fine.” and you tried to stand on your own, beginning to limp away. you didn’t want or need anyone’s help.

leon sighed, following after you. “let me help, that must hurt a lot.”

“i told you, cop, i’m fine. i don’t want your help, okay?”

leon opened his mouth to insist, but decided against it. if you didn’t want his help, then he shouldn’t butt in. that wouldn’t keep him from watching over you, though.

but then leon called after you (perhaps a little smugly), “do you even know what you’re supposed to do?”

begrudgingly, you stopped walking. no, you didn’t know what to do. “i’ll figure it out,” you said over your shoulder. and you would; you had been through enough to survive any situation thrown at you.

but maybe one pointer couldn’t hurt.

“do a generator,” he told you, giving you a cheeky grin when you turned around to look at him. he was lucky he was cute.

the first part of the trial had been rough, but after that first hook you were doing a lot better. you managed to find your own medkit from a chest, and you learned how to fix a few generators. you found it came pretty naturally, and were satisfied that you hadn’t needed anyone’s help (except leon’s. but you didn’t have to admit that yet). when the killer came near, you skillfully avoided him and stayed hidden as much as you could.

you were also pretending that you didn't notice leon hovering near you. he was not very good at being subtle; he was obviously trying to make sure you didn't get hurt. it was cute. you didn't want to ruin his fun, so you didn't say anything about it.

it wasn’t long before the gates were powered and in the process of being opened. you saw a red glowing light in the distance, and assumed that must be your destination. you put all of your remaining energy into sprinting to the exit, adrenaline pumping through your body.

but then there was a heartbeat. a heartbeat so loud it filled your head, splitting your concentration. it wasn’t your own heartbeat--it was the killer’s.

the sound of the cannibal’s chainsaw roared in your ears and pain tore through your body; you collapsed to the ground with a cry of agony. shit, that really hurt, and you weren't sure you could ever get used to it. eternity sure seemed a lot longer than you had first anticipated. would you really be here forever? doing this over and over?

biting your lip until it bled, you tried to crawl towards the gate, dragging the lower half of your body with much difficulty. it was no use, though--you hardly got anywhere, and you could already feel the killer picking you up. just like that, you were going to die? you had been so close..

but as you were being placed on bubba’s shoulder, you saw a flash of a police uniform and a blinding light, and before you knew it, you had been dropped to the ground, the exit gate looking awfully lovely and much more desirable than a meat hook. you gathered all of your strength and began limping forward, when suddenly you felt an arm firmly wrap around your waist and your own was placed around someone else’s shoulder.

leon. when you looked up at him, all he did was give you a calm smile, which you felt inclined to return. with him supporting you, the two of you made it safely to the exit and began the long traipse back to the campfire, where you would find yourself spending a lot of time together.

from then on, you always remained quite unfazed by the events of the entity’s realm—the only thing that ever made you feel weak was being around leon. he was just so cute :]

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍

you had never met someone so persistent in your life. from the moment the entity stole you here, steve harrington was after you, and there was next to nothing you could do about it. he sure was living up to his self-proclaimed role of babysitter.

you told him you were fine, that you didn’t need him following you around, but the asshole did it anyways.

“how cool do you think you are?” you asked him at some point, to which he simply shrugged with that stupid grin on his lips.

“i can take care of myself.” “i really don’t need you to baby me, steve.” “steve, if you don’t leave me alone i’m going to break your kneecaps.” these were all things that had come from your mouth multiple times recently. you were seriously thinking about that last one now.

you knew you could make it on your own, and you only wished he would give you a chance to prove that to him so he would leave you alone. but it was like he had attached himself to your hip, and for some reason the entity seemed to really enjoy putting you in trials with him. great.

he was a dumbass and a sweetheart, and you weren’t sure which one of those took higher priority. you knew he only meant well, but god, you wanted to be independent for once. why did he think he had to protect you so much? you arrived here after running for your fucking life, fighting off your long-time pursuer, and living in awful, ever-changing conditions. you had seen your closest friends die, right before your eyes. you didn’t need to be sheltered or coddled, but you couldn’t seem to make steve understand that, no matter how much you fought with him.

steve would literally throw himself in front of the killer for you. he clicked his flashlight in the killer’s face if they were after you, and he would swear and cuss until they chased him out of pure annoyance. it got him killed countless times, and you didn’t know whether to call him stupid or selfless. probably both.

eventually you decided to just copy him and see how it worked out. you weren’t scared, you had no reason to be. you wanted to show him you could be just as flashy as him.

as you arrived into a trial, steve right across from you (of course), you smiled to yourself. you had brought your best flashlight, and you were prepared to use it. the two of you began to work on a generator together, making light conversation as usual.

“if the killer comes here, hide. i’ll take him away.” “fuck you, steve harrington.” “sure, if you really want to.” “why don’t you ever leave me alone?” “it’s a mystery, isn’t it?” “i could punch you right now.” “but you won’t. i’m too good to look at.”

you know, the usual friendly stuff.

you purposefully connected the wrong wires, making the generator spark and sputter. “oops. oh no, the killer must be on their way,” you dead-panned. steve gave you an unamused look.

and indeed, only a few moments later, you heard the sound of the hillbilly and his chainsaw roaring in your direction. the two of you split up, and the killer’s weapon collided with the generator, making an awful screeching sound.

and that was when the chaos started.

steve began hollering and flicking his flashlight into the sky as usual, and after a moment’s hesitation, you did the same. steve looked at you in astonishment, pausing, but then he started again, even louder. you tried to outdo him.

“HEY BILLY! FUCK YOU!” you screamed, ignoring steve’s attempts to get you to stop. “COME AFTER ME, SHITHEAD!”

steve started actually yelling, just yelling, while you continued to swear meaninglessly. the poor hillbilly looked confused and overwhelmed, and eventually he couldn’t take the noise anymore--he just left, opting to find the other survivors while the two of you sorted out whatever it is you obviously had against each other.

it was dead silent now that the killer was gone, and you and steve were both out of breath. but as soon as you made eye contact, laughter bubbled up from your chest, causing you to collapse against the tree and slide to the ground. your voice was hoarse from all the screaming.

and then he was laughing too, stumbling over to plop down next to you, and your giggling started up a whole new round.

after the laughter died down, you stared at your hands, ignoring steve’s gaze on the side of your face until you couldn’t anymore.

“what?” you asked, finally looking at him. he was smiling all stupid again. “what?” you insisted, fighting off a grin of your own. you hated when he looked at you like that, because it made you want to smile back at him.

“nothing,” he said coyly, laughing again. you punched his shoulder playfully.

“c’mon harrington, when have you ever held your tongue before? spit it out.”

he nodded, that was true. so he said it. “i just like you, that’s all.”

oh. oh.

realization dawned upon your face. “is that why you always--”

“yes,” he interrupted you. “i thought it was obvious. man, you’re clueless sometimes.”

oh.

huh.

you guessed…maybe…steve harrington wasn’t that annoying. maybe.

𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍

to say you were feisty was an understatement. frank hated your guts at first because you were so good at evading him, which he would never admit. but the thing that made him really mad was that if he ever downed you, you would kick at him and try to trip him over, like actually bruise his shins. it hurt like hell.

this lead to his decision to constantly tunnel you, and he would laugh at you while you were on the hook, too. so you hated his guts just as much as he did yours. it was a mutual guts-hating situation.

your teammates always felt bad for you, but they also thought you were a badass and knew you could handle yourself. you hadn’t told anybody where you’d come from or what had happened to you, but they knew it was something interesting. there was a reason that nothing that happened here really got to you.

sometimes things escalated even further than shin-kicking. there was one time where frank had managed to grab the back of your shirt as you tried to vault a window, and as he pulled you closer to himself, you elbowed him in the neck and squirmed out of his grasp. while he stood stunned and lost for breath, you kicked the back of his locked knee so that he fell to the ground and bonked his forehead on the wall—the classic dead leg.

this was very funny to you.

not to him.

while you ran away, laughing to yourself, frank’s anger built and built. he was tired of letting you make a fool of him, and it was time to be serious about things.

he ignored you for the rest of the trial, forming a plan in his mind. there was something he needed to do after this, so he made sure to kill everybody else to please the entity—he couldn’t get caught up, it would derail his anger train. he also didn’t feel like getting kicked in the balls or some shit, so he let you out without a problem.

frank did some brooding at the ormond lodge before he was ready to go through with his plan. and his shins really, really hurt, so susie helped him ice them before he left.

the masked killer made his way to the survivor camp rather hastily. when he arrived, he saw you pacing around, deep in thought.

so he threw a rock at you.

it was just a pebble, really. maybe it could be considered a rather large pebble, but frank insisted in his mind that it was a pebble.

“ow, what the fuck!” you cursed, rubbing your sore shoulder and looking around to find the culprit. and then your eyes laid on him.

he looked so sultry standing there at the edge of the woods, arms crossed and mask smiling, you could almost laugh at him. he acted so serious, when really, he was just an angry and misbehaving twink.

you put on your best serious face, genuinely trying not to be amused by this, and strode over to the killer.

“what do you want?” you asked confidently, mirroring his body language and crossing your arms.

frank bristled at your approach, as if trying to make himself look bigger. he wished you were scared of him like everyone else, it would really make him feel better.

“i want a truce,” he said.

you almost burst into laughter at that. a truce? what the fuck for?

he said was willing to stop tunneling and camping you if you stopped beating the shit out of him with your sticky little hands. he didn’t say it like that, but you knew that was what he meant. you, a survivor, could beat up frank, a killer, and it upset him and his little ego :(

just to humor him, you agreed. and frank nodded.

“but,” you continued, raising your eyebrows, “you have to give me something else.”

he started to say “no, no way—“ but you interrupted him: “you’re asking me to stop fighting for myself and just give in when you catch me. i think i deserve something other than just not being tunnelled.”

frank glared at you under his mask, thankful that you couldn’t see. “okay. whatever. what do you want?”

“i want to see your face.” you thought this was a good choice, something you could lord over him forever. it was surely only a win for you. his face was something private, and you would be the only survivor to know.

of course you wanted to see his face, frank thought. everyone did; they wanted to find out if he was good-looking. which, according to him, he was. if you ever asked the other members of the legion, susie was the only one to actually respond. she felt obligated to compliment him as she was basically his sister. so she would say frank is handsome in a ruggedy, jess mariano kind of way. you wondered how she knew what gilmore girls was, since that came after her time, but susie would never give away her secret.

so with a sigh, frank agreed to let you see his face. he didn’t really care, all he wanted was to stop having bruises on his shins. it was kind of miserable, and the entity never did anything to help him.

when he said that you couldn’t do it here, and you asked why the fuck not, he said it was because some other survivor might see. you decided he had a fair point, so reluctantly you let him drag you all the way to ormond.

when he took off his mask, your first thought, whether you wanted it to be or not, was “wow! he really does look like jess mariano! but with tattoos! hot!”

you were lost for words. you didn’t really know what you were expecting, but you sure weren’t expecting him to be that attractive.

he could tell your thoughts from the look on your face.

this had been per your request, and you were planning on this being something you could hold over his head, but the situation had turned into something that he could hold over your head.

oh dear. frank morrison now held pretty boy privilege over you.

and soon you would find out that he was going to keep tunnelling you anyways.

listen i've been watching a lot of gilmore girls and i just get jess vibes from frank, except our boy is more of a twinky idk shdjfhsf i love this guy sm

[mossygardenstone]

Hi !

How are you doing ? ^^

Can I request something angsty but maybe (if possible) with an happy ending for whoever you want ?

My idea was that their crush has hanahaki (because they think they don't love them)

I'm sorry, I don't really know how to explain the idea clearly ^^"

I hope you will have a nice day ! :3

I can totally do that for you! :3 I'll write for Red because that's my boy =w= But if you want someone else, feel free to request again! Hope I did it right! ;w;/ I may have gone overboard ;; Reader x Redd - with Hanahaki TW: Medical stuff, illness things, hospitals, angst, no proof reading oops, and swearing You plucked away a last petal from your shoulder, as you returned your gaze to the mirror, looking yourself over for a moment. Of all the people for you to fall for, it had to be him. When the monsters started to come from the underground, you never thought you'd be friends with them, let alone had fallen so head over heels for one of them. But something about this bone boy really got to you. Despite the rough and tough personality he put up, you could see who he was truly. But that's why you knew they wouldn't be interested in you. How could a monster be in love with a human? You looked your face over for a moment more in the mirror, your hands gripping the sink tightly. Once you felt that you had gathered yourself enough to be around others, you sighed and pushed off the sink, giving the mirror a last glance on your way out the bathroom door. Once you entered the living room, a pair of sockets shifted to look at you, as Red's constant smile seemed to grow more at your sight. "Was starting to worry ya fell in the toilet." He teased, his sockets shifting back to the video game he was play, that you had brought over to play with him. You simply forced a smile, that you wore well to block out any prying questions about how you had been, despite the fact your features has slowly worsen over time. Your body finally giving way to display how sickly you had been feeling as of late. You gave the other a soft chuckle and shifted to sit back in your spot next to him in the floor. "Where's your brother?" You asked, peeking over your shoulder, where the taller skeleton monster had been when you left. But it simply earned a shrug from Red, not even looking up from his game. "Didn't ask, he just said he had ta go." He gave a chuckle and shifted a socket to you again. "You know how he gets." You returned a chuckle, the smile you forced felt as constant as the skeletons smile. But you think your cheek muscles were making you have less of an advantage in that department. Your face hurt from smiling. Your body hurt from breath. And being around him just made it worse, you could feel your body react the second you're around him. It felt like you were dying slowly next to him, but that was okay. At least it would be next to him. Lost in your thought, your vision blurred, not even hearing Red as he starts to talk about the game. Your frame wobbled softly in it's spot as the room danced around you, just to swirl into a never ending blackness. You felt your lungs failing yourself, but now you could hear him, because he was much closer now. Your eyes weakly trailed up, to see his bone fingers gripping your shoulder tightly, but you couldn't feel his touch. Your eyes continued up to meet the sockets of the other, his yelling seemed muffled by the fog in your head, he look frustrated, his sockets narrowed at you, his eyelights reduced to pin pricks. But that expression changed once your eyes finally met his, you could see his frustration leave like a flash, the second he locked eyes with your dull ones. He was sweating now, his eyelights gone, leaving his deep sockets staring blankly at you. His worry was quickly amped as your eyes finally fluttered shut and you toppled over in the floor beside him. He gasped now, scrambling to your side and stroking a boney hand across your face, calling out your name, but getting no answer. You awake later, to the sounds of beeps, and the uncomfortable feeling of a cold, sterile room closing in around you. You blink groggily as you try to sit up, but your body refused to let you do more than softly shift around. But you soon stopped your movement, hearing a familiar voice in the next room. It was Alphys, and another more loud voice you also recognized as Sans. You stopped shifting so

you could listen to them in the other room, they seemed upset. But you thought you'd pass out again when you heard Alphys mention a word far too familiar for you. Hanahaki Disease. You knew you had it, you knew that's what was happening to you, it's an easy search. But no one else did, not them, not your friends, not a soul but you knew this. You could feel tears prick your eyes, as you heard Alphys explain it to Sans, your body shaking hoping he wouldn't catch on. But another voice rang out, this time from the room you were in. It was Papyrus, you hadn't even noticed he had been sitting in a chair on the other side of the room, arms folded over his uniform. "Alphys, Sans, they're awake." He barked almost as a command, and they funneled into the room as though it was one, locking eyes with you. Alphys went to spoke, but before she could even attempt to speak, Red's hulking frame was stomping toward you. "Why didn't ya tell me? D... Did ya not know? That's it right?" His tone sounded pleading, like he wanted more than anything for you to not known you were dying, than to not have told him, to hide something like this. You shifted your teary eyes away from him, you knew the longer you stared at him, the more they would fall. "I knew." You finally spoke after a while, making him stare in stunned silence, before his sockets screwed up in anger again. "Why the hell didn't ya tell us? Or at least me?" He sputtered out, his hands waving as he spoke. But when you didn't answer he simply let out a grumble and moved closer to your bed side. "Then tell me at least..." He started, causing you to look at him out of the side of your eye. He hung his head for a moment, thinking over everything he had learned today, before raising his head with a snap "Who the fuck is it then? Who are ya so in love with that it's doing this to ya?" He was shaking at this point, and he didn't know if it was anger, or fear. "And why the hell don't they love ya back?" His voice cracked at those words, and hearing it sent you over the edge as well, tears rolling down your face now, your body trembling to keep from letting out shaky sobs. "Because.." You started for a moment, bringing your hand up to wipe your eyes, the IV in your arm feeling weird as it moved. "I haven't told them." This caused Red to stare blankly, and finally shut up for a moment. Giving Alphys the perfect moment to finally speak. "But Y/N, you will die if you don't tell them soon. Or get the surgery." You winced and tried to choke back another sob. "I don't want the surgery. I know what comes with it... I rather be like this than lose my feelings for them." You said blankly, Alphys looking from you to Sans again. Who was now angered again, hands balled into a fist. "Then tell them! I'm sure they're going to love ya back. They have'ta!" he spat, shaking his skull. You couldn't reply at first, you just softly sobbed to yourself, before taking a deep breath and collecting yourself. "It wont matter if I tell them. They wont feel the same." You weak mutters just fueling his anger more, as he finally had enough, he closed the rest of the space between you both, gripping the bed rails. Alphys reached out to stop him, but simply let him get it out, noticing Papyrus keeping a close eye on him. "Why the hell wouldn't they? Ya great! I should know, I spend almost every day with you!" Alphys blinked and looked at him for a moment. "Sans.. You've been around them a lot lately right?" Sans snapped his head to look at her. "It's what I just said, innit?" Alphys shifted her gaze to you again. "When you met them.... Did they look this sick?" You winced, you knew she had figured it out. Red was staring at you now, you could feel it, his sockets scanned you, before turning back to Alphys. "N...No, I don't think they did.. They had a lot more colla to them." Alphis nodded and looked to again, Red's gaze trailing back to you, his boney fingers still wrapped around the bars of your bed. "Is it a monster? Is that why ya don't think they will like ya? Y/N, monsters fall for humans all the time, you

really-" Sans was cut off by the bellowing of his older brother, causing all three of them to jump and instantly give him their attention. "Sans, you absolute moron." Sans gulped nervously, loosing his grip on the bed, as his brother continued. "It's you they like, how can you be so dense? I saw this ages ago" His eyelights rolled in his skull, as though he had just made another pun. Sans just stared at him, jaw slack, his large frame rumbled from the laughter he let out. "Come on Boss, it's a good joke, but this is serious." He shifted his skull back to look at you. "There's no way someone like them-" He stopped, your eyes were wide, and you face was flushed, and he realized just how pale you've gotten from this sickness. He blinked softly for a moment before letting out a panicked grunt, leaning over the bars, a foot from your face. "Yer fucking joking? T..." His skull flushed a bright cherry candy red, his eyelight finally appearing again for the first time since you passed out, they seemed to vibrate softly, flickering as they scanned you. You couldn't stand to look at him anymore, you felt destroyed, you were going to get rejected in front of everyone and slowly rot away. But instead you were surprised when you felt him clambering over the rails, into the bed with you, spooking both you and Alphys "S.Sans! Careful with them-" She blubbered as he managed to nestle his large frame, mostly sitting on the railing. His grin was larger than you've ever seen, his eyelights looked almost like they had turned heart shaped, and he was giggling like a dork. You scanned him, as you scooted in your bed to make space for the large skeleton monster. "Yer as big of a moron as me I guess, because I liked ya for a while too." He finally, said with another giggle. Your eyes went wide, and you suddenly felt dizzy, actually too dizzy, the room spun as you put a hand to your forehead, leaning back with a huff. Sans jumped again, trying to back away to give you space. "Fuck! Sorry uh.." Sans muttered, and Alphys simply snickered and walked over to the free side of the bed that didn't have a bone boy perched on it. Softly fanning you with her clipboard. "It's okay Sans, it's the blood flow coming back to them. They shouldn't be showing anymore signs of the illness in the next 24 hours." Sans beamed at you, watching the color come back to your face slowly. "Guess I'm ya new medication hun. Take as needed." He snicked and slumped into the bed beside you, pulling you to his lap. You sunk into his large frame like a bean bag. You had no idea how it happened, but you were fine with the out come. "Dork.." You muttered as you snuggled into his chest.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Freddy Krueger x Reader || Headcanons

Topic / Plot: Just fluff headcanons. There are not enough for him!!

Warnings: Nope. Okay, a tiny bit of angst? Just a couple dot points talking about what he's like when he's unhappy/grumpy and how you deal with it.

~~~

Giggle fits!! This is a regular occurrence the nights you're with him. He makes so many jokes, and says so many cheesy shit and sometimes they just get you. And you're stuck just sitting there, hiding your face in your hands and your knees or his shoulder, slowly dying of laughter. He loves it when he does that to you, renders you but a giggle puddle mess. It makes him feel very proud of yourself- and you're very cute.

Begging him to come out of the dream world with you when you wake up. You just want him there with you, in the real world, no where special just in snuggled in bed or watching TV. Yes you can do both of these things in the dream world but its not the same. Freddy is not super thrilled about the idea but occasionally gives in. Or you trick him into coming out with you.

Rendering him - him! Freddy! The Nightmare! - speechless and secretly being so proud of yourself.

Now, he's not self conscious in any way. Not worried you could find someone 'better'. Not concerned. ... But, you telling him how hopelessly in love with him you are, still doesn't hurt. He wont show it, cuz like, that's not his style XD but he does get a tiny bit melty on the inside. He'll make a joke and right off his reaction as totally part of it (Like, oh, now don't get too emotional with this old cowboy. He might melt) and he just really wants to drag you close to him and bury his face in your neck for a little while.

He'll totally watch all your shows with you!! Doesn't matter whether they consist of Who's Line Is It Anyway, The Walking Dead or Pretty Little Liars. Riverdale is his favourite. His reactions and commentary are the best.

He honestly doesn't know what to do if you cry. Like, he short circuits?? Like an emotionally inept father??? Jesus christ, *Steps back and raises his hands like "I DIDNT DO IT."* They're crying. Why. What is this. Buck up. Swallow it down like a man, because I cant handle this bullshit?

He starts to put his hat on your head when you cry because then he cant see it and calms down a fair bit himself. And it comforts you a little, too.

When you fall asleep... you honestly never know what you're going to be walking straight into. Especially when he has no victims to mess with; Cuz then he gets bored. And a bored psychopath with dreamscape powers is w i e r d. Sometimes you're visiting the rodeo, sometimes you're exploring ancient Egyptian tombs, sometimes its much darker things. Like what he imagines when he thinks about the asylum he was conceived in, or his old backyard.

No matter what the mess is, he drags you into it.

Its always a treat nice when he turns up appearing like how he looked before the fire, and you make sure he knows that. But you're always relieved when he returns to his burnt appearance; Because to you, that's Freddy. The version before the fire, all clear skin and receding blonde hair, is pretty but its hiding what he really is. A suburban front to the monster underneath, and you fell in love with the monster, so 'pretty' just doesn't compare.

D a n c i n g ? I'm hesitant on this one but only because I'm mortally against dancing myself but it feels right? XD And I don't mean freestyle or freaken choreographed ballroom no. He'll just sometimes pull you to him and hold your hands or your waist, and it could be slow or a little jaunty. But he just wants to (A whim). Its fun and you're his favourite person.

I also love the idea of you two being a bisexual disaster of a couple but if you aren't bi then just ignore this one XD

When he's unhappy (Not exactly mad, but I guess all the trauma catches up to him and he just deflates for a while. Gets grumpy and just glues his mouth shut) he loses all humour and light heartedness and just wants to go sit and be silent for a while. Eventually you pluck up the courage to go sit next to him during this time (Don't touch him, don't speak to him, don't even look at him. Just sit. He's not used to people being there for him and it would make him uncomfortable if you went full sympathy) and he doesn't say a word about it but he does appreciate it; Relieves some of the pressure built up.

(Continuing on from the last dot point) When his knee starts to bounce up and down while he's like this, you learn to find that its a sure fire sign that he's nearing the end of his funk and you can link arms with him. You don't have to say anything, just lay your forearm through the crook of his arm and let him know that way that you're there. You're still there and you aren't going anywhere; no matter how difficult he knows that he is.

Okay moving on. Being around him totally helps you with any insecurities you may have. He has a total 'No caring what other people think about you' policy and slowly that leaks into you. So weirdly enough, yes, being with Freddy ultimately makes you so much more comfortable in your skin and mind. He makes you feel interesting, and hot.

Kink positivity! Slut positivity! None of this shaming nonsense; If you suggest it, he's probably already into it.

[starlight-starwrites]

agent whiskey

character headcanons

note: did a rewatch of kingsman golden circle, so...how could i resist? i really started out with ‘this is fun!’ and then things got real. again, i like to think most of what is here is inspired straight from what we see in the movie, and some go a little beyond bc if we’re honest, those writers did our jack dirty.

- Has a known streak for being an asshole, but he doesn’t usually even realize it.

- He thinks he’s funny (he is, but only sometimes).

- The man loves the high life. Country livin’ is fine by him, but high country living. He was sent to work in New York for a reason.

- He is great at mixing his attitude and his manners. He’s usually always polite, but his impatience will get the better of him. He’ll be the one at the store giving lip to the manager, yet still saying please and thank you the whole time.

- Loves playing the seniority card. He’s good at what he does, no doubt there, but he still thinks he’s tough shit He gives himself more importance than he should. If someone he likes tells him off, he will drop down so many pegs, it is incredible. Will go quiet and embarrassed if scolded.

- Actually has pretty good taste in fashion. He pays attention. It’s a bit of a preening thing, a bit of a wanting to seem valid thing.

- He will giggle at a sex joke if he wasn’t expecting it (if he’s flirting, it’s a different story).

- He is great at hiding his nerves. Will overcompensate with the cockiness sometimes if he feels out of place, and definitely likes his liquid courage when talking to women.

- He feels like he has to have a pick up line. He has to impress. His track record of relationships (or lack thereof) isn’t something he likes to think about. Whether it’s because he’s hung up on his late wife, or they don’t like him beyond a quick lay, or he finds he can’t connect with them, he isn’t always sure. He’ll do it for work, or if he really, really wants to, but beyond that, he finds himself distracted by other things.

- Whiskey is his go-to drink. What came first—his preference or the code name? No one is sure, but he is definitely dedicated it. He may hate drugs, but he’s quick to drown his sorrows in alcohol.

- He can cook. Maybe he's not a gourmet chef, but everything turns out fairly decent, and he's even got a couple of special recipes that turn out incredible. His homemade chili is immaculate.

- He doesn’t have any close friends. When he was younger he had some, he knows what it’s like to have a friend. But when he goes out, sees just a group of guys who mess around, genuinely like each other, he feels like he’s missing something. It almost makes him uncomfortable at the thought of having such a support group.

- Despite his propensity to come off as a bit of an asshole, he pales in comparison to actual assholes. Does not tolerate them. If someone is harassing or being a general nuisance, he wont hesitate to step in if necessary.

- If it’s not necessary, he is shameless and will absolutely stay for the show. He finds the drama amusing, and if it comes to action, all the better.

- The man knows what he’s doing (most of the time). He’s a good agent. A good fighter. When things sometimes go south, something unexpected happens, part of him lives for the thrill of it, hoping for a time to shine. It keeps him on his feet. He’d rather focus on not dying during those times, then focus on trying to live when things are quiet.

- He likes working with other agents, it makes him feel less alone. But he is a stickler about who he works with. He’d, of course, prefer to be in charge, and he doesn’t like incompetence. Shit happens, but if you’re not good at back-up, Whiskey’s got no use for you.

- He trains and practices a lot. A lot, a lot. You can’t get that good with a whip, a lasso, and guns, without honing his skills. He likes to try out new moves too, but he won’t do it in front of people. He’s broken quite a few things in his own home practicing moves, but in the end, it really pays off.

- He’s fiercely protective of the people he cares about. If he loved someone, he would likely save the one at the cost of the world.

- Holds grudges like no other. Will seek revenge whenever the mood strikes him. And he has a knack for it too. Not always confrontational, but if you wrong him, and he feels its personal? He’ll make sure you’re ruined one way or another.

- He doesn’t always want to take the lead, but if there’s ever a pause, someone hesitates to do something, he automatically thinks ‘fine, I’ll do it myself’.

- He lives to be a showoff. He likes to be the center of attention. Its stems from his feeling of not being good enough, of not being able to do things right in the past. He doesn’t care what sort of attention he gathers, and if someone negatively reacts to his skills (with jealousy, criticism, any of the sort) he still counts it as a win. Afterall, why would someone be paying so much attention to him if he isn’t worth it?

- He’s a risk taker. Has been all his life. Some risks didn’t pay out and left him with insecurities he likes to pretend don’t exist. Some do pay off, and it’s the best high he feels.

- He’s gambled before and would again if the opportunity were to present itself. He’s tried to stop, but he knows he’ll go back. When he was young, he liked the idea of a high roller’s table. With his job and how much he makes, he’s closer to getting to that fantasy. He doesn’t talk about it, but his dream mission is at a casino, playing on the Statesman bill, with a finely dressed woman on his arm.

- Yes. His biggest fantasy is to be an American cowboy James Bond. Sorry. No I’m not.

- When he was young, he was seriously in love. It was that first love, the one you think you could never have again, yet somehow is still only a surface love. It felt deep at the time, but if he were to love again, really love, it would be a true love that he doesn’t even believe exists. It’s the knowing someone as much as you know yourself, the sort of support that is unbelievable yet impossible to live without, and being able to share the fears and doubts of past trauma and uncertain futures and be met with trust and loyalty that could only be found in fiction.

- He’s become a serial flirt to hide that desire for true love. He loved his late wife, but they hadn’t had the time, and they’d still been practically kids. He’s afraid to let any relationship go beyond that.

-He is a man of devotion. Devoted to his work, to his principles, to his wife. Sometimes the way he expresses it is extreme, but no one can deny he cares.

- He likes to have nice things. He’s got a nice apartment, filled with any comforts and random assortments that spark joy. If Marie Kondo went through his stuff, there would be very little he’d agree to let go. Everything seems to have a story behind it.

- “Now that hat? Been with me through too much. Couldn’t wear it til I was eighteen, tried to ride my first horse with that one, and I damn near lost it. See these bullet holes? Mission up North went South, and had I moved any slower, I’d’ve been brought back in a pretty wooden box and dropped six feet under.”

- He may try to support the Statesman brand but…his name is Jack Daniels. You can bet he’s got every brand of whiskey in his own personal collection.

- At his place in new York, he always keeps extra stuff ‘for company’. He very rarely ever gets a chance to use it.

- He loves gadgets, tech, the best vehicles. He tries to make sure he can do it all because it makes him feel like Bond, but he sticks to what he knows best. The whip and the lasso make him unique.

- The man is really kinky. He doesn’t let it out unless he is completely comfortable, but…he really is.

- This man is a mama’s boy. We all know it.

- He wants to have a family. He really does. Part of him refuses to believe he ever will, that he doesn’t deserve it. The other part thinks that it’s the only thing that will fill the hole in his heart.

[miyaniacs]

Sinfully Sweetheart HC. Pt 5

Hinata, Lev and Kenma 

feat. Kuroo

pt. 1,  pt. 2, pt.3, pt.4, pt. 6 

Sorry this is soooo long???? and a mess and sorry if this is trash but I feel like Hinata is way too innocent to get what’s going on rn 

SOO LETS START 

So you know each other since you were small

Your as cheerful and positive as him 

You also like to please everyone 

So you’re rather kind and helpful

Because your so close to Hinata everyone 

And I mean EVERYONE thought you’re just as innocent / obvious than him 

Including Hinata himself 

you two went to Kenmas birthday party 

The rest of the team was also invited because Kuroo forced him to give a proper birthday PARTY 

So it’s team Nekoma and Team Karasuno 

And Bokuto + Akaashi ( Gym 3 sticks together  - ride or die ✊🏼)  

Oh and yes Fukurodanis Managers ( Yukie and Kaori) are there too making it 5 girls and about 20+ guys lol ) 

Yes Kuroo did tease Kenma for having like no female friends

And yes Kenma did clap back asking him why HE haven’t brought some of his female friends 

Now everyone is dancing and having a good time 

You sit together with Kenma, Kuroo, Hinata, Yaku and Lev talking about the latest Switch games 

You’re being the sunshine you are, kept smiling and laughing 

Always helping Lev out when Yaku and Kuroo kept teasing him 

It was really fun 

THENNN Yamamoto and Tanaka come over to your little group 

„Hey, we thought about going some truth or dare? You’re in?“ 

You all nodded and walked over to the others 

NOW the real fun starts 

Yamamoto was the first one to spin 

The bottle lands onnnnnnnnn

Kageyama  

„Truth“ he simply says 

„BUhhh that’s so boring“ Hinata complains 

„TELL US. WHO was the last person you kissed?“ Yamamoto asks 

Kags blushes 

„Uhm I can’t remember ..“

„OHHH SHUT UP YOU DO!!“ Hinata is laughing his ass of

„STOP IT BOKE“ 

„OHH NO I WONT“ 

„Ok what happened?“ Yuki asks 

„He Kissed Oikawa“ Tsuki simply says and smirks 

„I DID NOT“ a red Tags complains

„YOU DID!!!“ Hinata laughs 

„Ok to be fair - he fell on top of him while they where in one of their typical arguments and it just happened“ you tried to help

„Y/N stop trying to be so nice - he kissed him end of the story.“ Tanaka laughs 

Tags takes the bottle and angrily spins it 

And it lands onnnnn 

LEV

„Dare“ he puffs his chest 

„I dare you to uhh .. hug Yachi“

„WHAAAAT“ Yashi panics lol 

„It’s just a hug - you’re here with the big guys so this will be the most innocent thing that’s going to happen“ Kuroo 

„Kuroo. No. Hinata,Y/N, and Yamaguchi are here“ Sugawara comments 

Meanwhile lev got up already as red as Yachi and walked over to her and bend down to hug her 

It’s the most awkward thing you see. 

She’s as stiff as person can be, arms hanging down her sides 

He looks like some cracked stick? 

Its a MESS

But hey they made it 

Yachi stopped working but oh well 

After some more rounds the bottle lands on you

And it was Hinatas turn to ask 

„Truth“ you say 

„Ok y/n just one question why did you and your best friend called this one musician a Daddy?”

You chocked on your drink, Kuroo and Bokuto are rolling on the floor laughing and Sugawara  together with Daichi faceplam 

„Uhm .. idk who you’re talking about?“ You smile 

„You know .. what was he called.. Skepta?“ ( I’m so sorry but besides that he is litterly a daddy since he’s got a cute babygirl he’s also a daddy. During his concert my best friend and I were dying and some guy behind us was like: yes I know he’s a daddy ) 

„Ohhh yeah he has a little daughter that’s why“ you smile happy that you could keep up your cover 

„Ohhh damn and here was thinking our litte y/n isn’t as innocent as we all think“ Kaori laughs 

Sugawara and Daichi are now really relieved lol 

The next rounds contained : 

Kenma giving Hinata a kiss on the cheek

Bokuto telling his most embarrassing story - it did include him in bed having fun alone and his aunt walking in 

Tsukishima giving everyone a compliment 

Etc 

Now the bottle was on Kuroo 

„Dare“ he says as if its nothing 

„Ok I dare you  to dance with y/n for 3 songs. And I choose them“ Akaashi says

„WHAT but - why me??“ You whine 

„ I mean, Yukie had do give Tanaka a kiss, Kaorie is already wasted, Yachi is still broken and Kiyoko - well I don’t want to fully kill Tanaka“ he explained 

„ I go easy on you“ Kuroo smirks 

So Akaashi takes out his phone, connects it to the speakers and goes through his library

The Take - Tory Lanez feat Chris Brown is on ( THE LYRICS THO already  at the beginning lol - one of the best songs to make out to / have sex - fight me) 

„YOU CANT BE SERIOUS NOW“ you scream 

„AKAASHI THERE ARE KIDS IN THE ROOM“ Daichi scrams and covers hinatas ears while Yaku does the same to Lev 

„Oh this will ne fun“ Kuroo smirks and winks he looks down at you 

So he gently lays his hands on your hips and moves you to the beat 

„I know you’re not really comfy rn so just follow me I’ll do the work“ he smiles because HE IS SOFTY and doenst want you to feel uncomfortable 

„Nah this is totally fine“ you smile „Just protect me from Daichi and Suga afterwards“ 

„Why should -” he begins but  you already put your hands around his neck and roll your hips 

„Ohh - so the daddy wasn’t because he got a daughter“ he smirks 

You just let your hands wander down his chest as you slowly go down to your knees, while still moving your hips to the beat

Hiantas eyes WIDEN ??? What happened to you?? 

He gets all flustered ?? 

Looking next to him he saw that Kenmas eyes are focused on your body - he’s never so focused except whe he plays games??? 

You’re moving back up rn arching your back 

„Doesn’t this hurt“ Sugawara asks himself 

Kuroo Hands are on your ass rn ( like its not his faut, its your for having such a great booty??)

Akaashi switches the song to Own it by Stormy ( for real tho I was at one of his concerts this February and guys. he could have taken me right there and I’d feel blessed ) feat Ed Sheehan and Burna Boy 

So you smile and turn around pressing yourself on Kuroo 

„Girl I love how you roll it, I put my hand there, hold it.“ And he puts his hands right under your belly and you start to move your hips Shakira level 

You’re still arching your back and everyone can see that Kuroo is enjoying this way too much 

Lev on the other hand 

After the first song he was in shock 

Now he’s slowly waking up and well his eyes are hearts now 

Kenma is still fixed on you and 

He put his PSP away?? 

Hinata I still flustered and doesn’t know how to talk 

„Uhm Daichi - This - I- why - why is Kuroo smirking I - and why is Bokuto Whistling ?“

„HINATA LOOK AWAY“ Suga scrams over the music 

„Kenma.. is this really happening rn?“Lev whispers 

He just nods and finally realised WHAT HE WAS LOOKING AT 

And now he’s ALL RED ??? 

And feels guilty?? Like why was he so amazed by the way you moved and why was he jealous of his best friend rn?? 

Lev still doesn’t really get what is happening lol 

You put one of your hands behind Kuroo neck and start body rolling

By NOW. Hinata is still flustered don’t get me wrong but also mad?? Like why are his friends looking at HIS BEST FRIEND like that?? 

„KENMA why are you blushing?! What are you thinking??“ He asks 

„No-Nothing . I just want this to be finished“ he mumbles but hell no. 

he’s actually thinking some really different stuff which made him not able to look at you for the rest of the night 

The last song begins 

And SUGA was going to KILL Akaashi. How could he be so reckless 

He and Daichi btw are way too focused to keep everyone in check to really focus on what you and Kuroo were doing 

You keep to singing to the song and feel Kuroos lips on your neck 

„I do think the only way to save you is that you stay really close by my side for the rest of the evening“ he growls and kisses your neck 

„To hide something?“ You tease and press your his against his crotch 

NOW the last song is up 

And yes sorry I had to use this 

PONY - Ginuwine 

SO you’re now fully feeling yourself 

And push Kuroo down on the sofa (Its a big one ok) 

RIGHT between KENMA AND LEV 

And you start giving him kind of a ✨lap dace ✨

You trun around, your hands gliding up and down ypur hips and you move roll your body

Bend over back up and walk to Kuroo kneeling over him ( like his legs are in-between yours ) And you hover over him moving as if your riding him, hands moving up and down your body 

SO your in your Element, Kuroos is enjoying it and everything is fine right? 

No 

KENMA on your left isn’t moving? He’s trying his best to NOT look next to him 

But now you stand up again?? And he is straight  up looking at you?? 

And you move your body in such a sexy way?? 

He never thought of you in that way and now he’s all SHY 

LEV could’t take his eyes off of you even for just a second 

In his mind he’s just : omg omg omg omg - mum I have sinned 

He doesn’t even realise that his nose started bleeding? 

Like ? Is this what it feels like when you’re watching porn?? 

Is this sex?? 

Because it SURE feels like sex to him 

Hinata is still asking Daichi what’s going on 

Tanaka trying to explain it to him AND KAGS but they just don’t get it? 

„But why is Kuroo so smug?“ Hinata asks? 

„She’s just dancing?“ Kags

„I woudnt call this just dancing“ Bokuto smirks 

So now it makes klick in Hinata head 

And he FINALLY realises what’s going on 

„OMG Y/N STOP“ he screams and grabs you and pulls you away from Kuroo 

Lev and Kenma wake up from their trance 

„Haha Hinata chill“ Kuroo laughs and CAUSALLY crosses his legs 

„CHILL. THIS WAS REAL LIFE PORN?“ Sugawara screams 

„I thought you’d know that this wasn’t porn?“ Akaashi laughs 

„ ITS NOT FUNNY. JUST look at poor LEV!“ 

And everyone does 

And start laughing 

„Uhm I go to the bathroom real quick“ he gets up and runs out of the room 

„Have funnnn“ Kuroo teases 

„Now Hinata can I get y/n back?“ He smirks 

„NO!!!“ 

„Omg Hinata let me go“ you laugh and walk over to Kuroo who pulls you in his lap for REASONS 

„You ruined her !!“ Hinata whines 

„I, for once, need to agree with him“ Daichi 

You just roll your eyes and look over to Kenma

„Hey Kenma? You okay?“ 

No answer, Kuroo waves his hand in front of his eyes 

Still no reaction 

„WOW you BROKE HIM TOO!“ Sugawara complains 

Lev’s now back and he can’t look at you anymore after what he just did and most importantly what he thought of 

„Why too?“ Kuroo asks and looks around the room just to see most of the others showing no reaction and are rather red 

The rest of the evening was quite chill 

They decided to play some games 

And Kenma lost all the time? 

Lev was having a pillow on his lap the whole time 

And Hinata was questioning reality because he felt stuff he shouldn’t  feel because of you? But now he does and grabs  Levs Pillow. 

Daichi and Suga are discussing how’s the best way to have THE TALK with Hinata and probs also Kageyama judging by the look on his face. 

[junquisite]

Fated to love 1

PAIRING : Park Junhee X OC X Kim Wooseok

GENRE : Fluff, Angst

WORD COUNT : 2.5k

PARTS :  I+P  1  2

AUTHOR’S NOTE : The italics signify the past memories from he trip and they are NOT a dream. they did happen. for timeline differentiation i have used toe Italics. So unless specified, italics are memories and the plain text is the present time.

“Hello, front desk? Yes, can you send a first aid box to room number 411?” she said as she placed the phone down and went to hold Junhee’s face again.

“Do hotels have that?” he asked as she fussed around him.

“Why won’t they?” she mumbled as she took a towel and went to the bathroom, coming back out with a wet towel and bent in front of him as she softly wiped the blood off his busted lip and bruised cheekbone.

“Who told you to go and punch that guy..” she mumbled as he winced.

“But you have to accept I looked cool.” he said and she rolled her eyes at him.

“Yeah until he punched you back.” she said as they heard someone ringing the bell of the hotel room.

She took the first aid box and thanked the person as she came back. She wiped his bruises with the antiseptic and pulled back to examine his face. “You’re lucky, I don’t think it’ll bruise.”

“Oh good. I can’t have a taint on this handsome face of mine.” and a laugh bubbled up her throat.

“Are you still drunk?” she asked as he smiled at her.

“Don’t go around punching people if you care so much about your handsome face.” she said as she gave him a pain killer.

“So you accept I’m handsome?” he asked and she rolled her eyes at him, a smile sneaking past her lips as he smiled back at her.

“No punching anymore okay?” as he kept smiling at her.

“It was not my fault Bora. He was almost harassing you.” he said and she placed her hands on her waist, staring his sitting form down.

“2 comments are not harassing.”

“And i told him to shut up.” he said and she sighed.

“Lemme just apply the ointment.” she said as she went back to the first aid kit when he pulled her by her hand.

“You know what would be better..” he trailed off as she raised an eyebrow at her.

“You can just kiss it better.” he said with a cheeky smile, pointing at the small bruise at his cheekbone. He knew she wouldn’t do that, but he was in for a surprise when she bent and quickly pecked that little bruise.

“Better now?” she asked him, her face inches away from his.

“It hurts here too.” he said as he pointed at his cheeks and saw as she smirked at him before bending down to give him a peck there too.

“Here too.” as he pointed at the corner of her lips, expecting her to back out any moment. But she went for it and left a peck on the corner of his lips, lingering for a few seconds longer.

When she was about to pull back, he held her close with his hand wrapping around her waist. With his other hand he pointed at his lips, “it hurts here too.”

He saw as her eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips, saw as a slight uncertainty clouded her eyes which vanished as soon as it came - leaving behind the crinkles beside her eyes as she smiled and leaned in, softly pecking his lips once, twice, thrice.

When she pulled back did Junhee realise he didn’t want her to - so he pulled her down in his lap, the other hand rushing to clear the bed from all that first aid things as his lips captured hers. A few seconds later she pulled back to breath only to be pushed down on the bed with him on top of her, hiding his face in her neck as he trailed soft kisses down to her collarbone.

~

She woke up with a start as her phone rang loudly, hands flapping blindly as she sat up on her bed, eyes still closed with the phone attached to her ear - it was a special ringtone set for a special person - her father.

“Hello?” she answered, voice betraying how much she wanted to stay between her blankets.

“Miss. Kang, it’s Mr. Park.” her father’s secretary.

“Yes Mr. Park?”

“Sir would like to have breakfast with you today. I’ll see you in an hour?” he asked and she looked at the clock.

“Alright, i’ll be there.”

She ended the call and rubbed her face.

“Why did I had to wake up with him on my mind first thing in the morning?” and groaned as she laid down in her bed again. She could afford a couple minutes to whine about it.

~

She sat in front of Wooseok as her father sat at the head’s seat.

“How did the party go yesterday?” he asked and she smiled.

“It went well. There are a lot of proposals and I have a few meetings these coming days to discuss them in detail.”

“I heard there was a footwear company which you’re meeting tonight for dinner?” he asked and she took a glance at Wooseok who had stopped eating his breakfast. So it was him who spilled huh.

“Yes. JD footwears. I had been wanting to work with them for a while now.”

“Cancel the meeting. You said you have a lot of proposals, go with another one.” his father said in a tone that was not to be questioned but it sparked something inside her.

“Why should i?” she asked as she placed her chopsticks down. She had lost her appetite.

“You know wooseok felt uncomfortable with them. You should be more considerate to him.” her father said and she glared at Wooseok sitting in front of her, calmly eating his breakfast.

“He apologised father. And it was all harmless conversations to make me comfortable with him. Wooseok was reading too much into that.” she said and saw how he didn’t even look up at her.

“I don’t care. Choose another partner.”

“Its my company father, you can’t impose your opinion on me.” she spat through gritted teeth.

“Have you forgotten that you could start this company only because of the money I gave you?” He asked loudly and she glared at him.

“You didn’t give me that, you loaned it to me. And I have returned every single penny of it with interest. You don’t see banks going around claiming power over businesses they have loaned amount to, do you?”

“I wont tolerate you speaking like that to me at my own house young lady.” his father yelled and with a screech she pushed back her chair and got up to go, ‘I’ll get going then.” she said and bowed.

“Don’t force me to threaten you with holding an emergency shareholders meeting.” he said and she stilled.

“You only have 8% shares.” she said as she looked at him.

“Why do you think Wooseok has 21% shares?’ his father said and she looked at Wooseok who was staring at her with a blank face now.

“Of Course. I forgot, my bad.” she whispered and saw a pleased smile came on her father’s face.

“So you’ll be cancelling the meeting?” he asked to rub it in her face.

She bowed to him and spoke, “No. I’ll be going forward with the collaboration so feel free to hold an emergency shareholders meeting. I’ll see you there.”

She was about to leave when she heard him mumble, “Wooseok was right, sending you on the trip was a mistake.”

There were a lot of things she wanted to say - both to her father and Wooseok but she figured it’ll be pointless, so she bowed and left.

She was about to get into her car when she heard someone calling her name - Wooseok.

“Why are you being like this?” he asked her and she turned to level him with an unimpressed face.

“Why are you marrying me?” she asked and she saw him getting confused by her question.

“Marry my father instead, he’s been a widow long enough - you’re young, smart and already follow his every command like a wife - marry him.” she said and she got in her car - not interested in whatever else he had to say to her.

~

“Donghun-ssi?” she asked as she recognised the long haired man and shook his hand as he extended his hand to her.

“Please call me Donghun, Bora-ssi.” he said and she asked him to call her comfortable too.

“Where’s your partner?” she asked and before Donghun could answer she heard someone calling Donghun’s name from behind her and the voice was strangely familiar.

“Hello i’m so sorry to be late, I’m Park Junhee, the Co-founder of JD Footwears.” she looked up to see the smile she has gotten extremely familiar with barely 2 weeks before and then had accepted she won’t be seeing him again.

She saw the recognition on his face as his eyes widened slowly but he masked it up as he took  a seat in front of her, beside Donghun.

She took a sip of water.

It was going to be a fun dinner. 

Surprisingly, the dinner went with no issues - they had managed to discuss quite a lot of details and both her and Junhee had managed to act like it was their first time meeting. They were almost done with dinner and discussing dessert when the seat beside her was pulled back and she looked up to see none other than her fiance - Kim Wooseok.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as he took the seat and smiled at the pair of men in front of her.

“I was here for a meeting. I was about to leave when i saw you and since i remember Donghun-ssi from the party, i thought i’ll join. I’m not interrupting, am i?” Wooseok asked Donghun who smiled at him, “of course not. This is my partner and co-founder, Park Junhee.” 

Wooseok and Junhee shook hands when Junhee spoke, “I’m sorry i was not at the party but i am assuming that you all get acquainted, for you to join our table so comfortably.” 

“Oh yes, your partner was flirting with my fiance here, at the party. So you can say we are acquainted.” Wooseok said and although his lips were smiling, his eyes weren’t - they were challenging Junhee and Bora was dying to leave the table.

“Donghun hyung? Flirting with Bora?” Junhee said and wooseok mumbled, “I See you’re all already comfortable with each other to drop honorifics.” 

“Both of them are older than us Wooseok.” Bora said and Donghun waved his hand at him,” It’s fine, please be comfortable.”

Junhee leaned back in his chair, eyes set calculativily on Wooseok as he cleared his throat,”As I was saying, Donghun hyung cannot be flirting with Bora and I can guarantee that.”

“And why is that?” Wooseok asked, annoyance slightly slipping in his voice.

“Because he’s getting married in 2 months.”

An awkward silence surrounded the table as everyone processed what Junhee had said. Bora was the first to speak,”Oh Congratulations Donghun, I’m so happy for you! I told you you were reading too much into it Wooseok.” Bora said, the last line pointed at Wooseok.

“Oh. congratulations.” Wooseok said and Bora saw a smirk trying to break into Junhee’s face. She was happy it wasn’t very apparent though - Wooseok hated losing.

“Haha thank you both. How about we order dessert now? We were about to before you arrived Wooseok. This place is famous for its cakes so..” Donghun trailed off as he pointed at  a waitress who came quickly.

“I’ll have a chocolate one..” Donghun said and looked at the others.

“2 red velvets for me and the lady.” Wooseok said when Junhee interrupted them.

“No, make it  red velvet and 2 vanillas - one for me and one for the lady.”

Bora felt the tension rising again and she stared wide-eyed at Junhee.

“Bora doesnt like Vanilla.” Wooseok said and Junhee scoffed.

“I’m craving something sweet..” She mumbled as they walked the streets of switzerland after their first dinner date. Junhee suddenly grabbed her hand and pulled her in front of an ice cream shop they had just crossed. The happy giggle that escaped her lips answered him before he could even ask and they went inside as she excitedly looked at the rows of flavour.

“Which one do you want?” he asked and she just stared.

“What are you gonna get?” 

“Vanilla. Classic but i love it.” he said and she gasped.

“Can i take vanilla too?” she asked and when he said yes, the huge smile that came on her lips tugged at his heart - he wanted to keep making her smile like that.

“Of Course. Why even the question?” he asked and she looked away, but the whisper that passed her lips reached his ear.

“They say vanilla is the cheapest so I can never have it.”

“Bora was the one who suggested the Vanilla cakes from here when we were talking earlier, so i’m sure  she wants that too.” Junhee said and saw how agitated Wooseok was. Bora’s face was expressionless but if he himself didn’t like how that guy was trying to control everything, obviously she wouldn’t like it either right?

“Excuse me ma’am, one piece of Chocolate cake, Vanilla cake and red velvet cake. I don’t feel like eating any dessert. That’ll be all.” Bora said and the waitress left after bowing.

The three men ate their desserts and there was a meagre conversation after that. Soon enough, they bid farewell and Donghun and Junhee got in the car as they saw the engaged couple leave in their separate cars. But then again they were supposedly here for different matters so.

The drive was small, they both lived in the same building so usually shared a car. For a change, there was silence in the car.

“So..” Donghun trailed off and Junhee turned to him.

“So?” Junhee asked.

“Bora. You know her from somewhere don’t you?” Donghun aske and Junhee sighed and nodded.

“What gave it away?” 

“She never said she wanted vanilla cake.” Donghun said and Junhee ran a hand through his hair, slightly embarrassed.

“Thanks for not saying anything about it there, hyung.” he mumbled and Donghun laughed.

“It felt like you both did not want that to be known.”

“I guess.” Junhee Said And again there was silence.

“Is she the one? From switzerland?” Donghun asked after a while and Junhee nodded.

“Do you want to cancel the collaboration?” he asked as he parked the car.

“No, why would i want that?” Junhee said, alarmed at what the other was suggesting.

“would you be okay working with her?” Donghun asked again and Junhee could see he was going to bring up how Junhee was when he got back so he stopped him before he could say anything.

“I’ll be fine hyung. Let’s go. It’s not like we’ll have to meet up a lot.”

Donghun sighed but agreed. He was hoping things would work out for the best. But his gut feeling said otherwise.

[thewidowsghost]

Fox - Chapter 29

Previously on Fox:

"You're really good with a sword," Natasha comments as the two walk back to the house Sam had where their stuff was. "I saw you flick the sword out of the scabbard, that takes skill."

"I got into sword fighting after I graduated from college," (Y/n) explains. (Y/n) opens the door to the house and walks into the bedroom and grabs her uniform out of the closet and folding it and placing it into her suitcase.

The two finish and grab their stuff, and walk out to the Quinjet to go back home.

3rd Person POV

A year had passed since Natasha and (Y/n) had met, and it was hard to tell if either of the woman had ever been happier.

Natasha gazes affectionately at (Y/n) as the woman hurries around the room, throwing clothes haphazardly at a drawstring bag, her (H/C) hair fluttering behind her. (Y/n)'s had let her hair grow out over the year and it was about an inch lower than the small of her back.

The redhead grabs the clothes and folds them, placing the clothes into the bag.

(Y/n) turns around to fold the clothes and then smiles sheepishly at Natasha, who was sitting next to the bag, folding a shirt.

"Thanks, Nat," (Y/n) says.

"It's okay, you weren't prepared," Natasha says, placing the shirt in the drawstring and closing it, picking it up and handing it to (Y/n). (Y/n) takes the bag, a sheepish expression still on her face. Natasha pulls her girlfriend into a hug and (Y/n) relaxes into the shorter woman's arms.

"I love you so much Nat," (Y/n) murmurs tiredly and then she realizes what she said when Natasha tenses. The two  hadn't yet said those three words, just showing it by their actions and looks. "I'm sorry, it slip -" Natasha cuts her off by kissing her passionately. After a moment, Natasha pulls away, resting her forehead on (Y/n)'s.

"I love you too," Natasha says, meeting (Y/n)'s gentle - but exhausted - gaze.

In the time after the two had come home from (Y/n)'s old military camp, Fury had had the (H/C) haired woman working from 6:00 AM to 8:00 PM on some sort of new flying base that was, as Fury had told her multiple times, classified. She wasn't even allowed to tell Natasha what it was.

The two women stand there for a little while, just enjoying being in each other's embrace when (Y/n)'s phone rings.

(Y/n) sighs before pulling it out of her pocket. "Hey, Dad. Yes, I had to pack. I'll be there soon." (Y/n) pauses for a moment, a look of confusion spreading across her face. "I guess so," (Y/n) looks down into Natasha's gaze, the redhead almost laughing at the confused look on her girlfriend's face. "Okay. Okay. Yes. I'll be there soon. Bye Dad."

(Y/n) ends the call, shaking her head and Natasha laughs, and (Y/n) leans down, kissing her softly again. "I'll be back soon," she promises. "Should be back by the end of the week."

"I'm coming with you to the airport," Natasha says and (Y/n) goes red with embarrassment.

"I knew that," (Y/n) murmurs, and Natasha laughs.

"Let's get you on that plane so you can come home sooner," Natasha says, grabbing (Y/n)'s hand and pulling her out of the room and down the two flights of stairs.

"Nat, that's not how that works," (Y/n) says, almost tripping down the second flight of stairs.

It's Nat's turn to looks embarrassed now but she hides her face as she pulls on her Nike's and (Y/n) pulling on hers. The two stand up, (Y/n) pulling her drawstring onto her shoulders and Natasha shyly takes her hand.

"Even after all this time, you still become shy when holding my hand?" (Y/n) teases, as Natasha closes and locks the door, pocketing her set of the keys.

Natasha grumbles something (Y/n) can't make out and (Y/n) stifles a laugh.

The two girlfriends walk to the airport instead of taking a cab so they could spend some more time together before (Y/n) had to leave.

"I'm leaving you the Quinjet in case you have to go on any surprise missions while I'm gone," (Y/n) tells Natasha, the two standing outside Tony Stark's private jet.

"(Y/n), you ready to go?" Pepper's voice comes from behind (Y/n). The (H/C) haired woman sighs and turns around.

"Just a minute, Pep," (Y/n) calls before turning back to Natasha.

(Y/n) wraps her shorter girlfriend in a hug, and whispers, "I love you, see you soon."

"I love you too," Natasha murmurs. "Don't blow your cover," she adds as an afterthought.

"I wont. I'll be back soon," (Y/n) pulls out of the hug, and walks backwards, waving to Nat before walking into the jet.

About two hours later, Pepper and (Y/n) land in Malibu and (Y/n) waits at another jet with her honorary uncle, James Rhodes, her hands clasped behind her back.

After about half-an-hour, her father arrives.

"Sorry, guys," Tony says. "Car trouble."

"I've been standing here for three hours!" Rhodes complains, (Y/n) practically seeing the steam coming out of his ears. "What the hell?!"

"Rhodes, didn't you hear?" (Y/n) asks in a sarcastic tone. "My father had car trouble."

The three board the plane and sit for a while, waiting until they arrive in Afghanistan, (Y/n) keeping her head down as the flight attendants pole dance and whatnot.

(Y/n) catches the conversation between her father and his old friend though as they sip their drinks comfortably.

"You don't get it," Rhodey explains. "I don't work for the military because they paid for my education, or my father's education. Don't cheapen it like that."

"All I said was," Tony says, "with your smarts, your engineering background, you could write your own ticket in teh private sector - on top of which, you wouldn't have to wear that 'straight jacket.'"

"'Straight jacket?'" (Y/n) asks, a frown on her face as Tony and Rhodes look up. "It means something. A chance to make a difference. A chance to do something right."

"She's right man," Rhodes agrees. "You don't respect that, because you don't understand."

Tony motions to one of the flight attendants with a nod. "See that on? Her I understand. Croatian. Hot-blooded, I'm serious. Must be those winters in Zagreb."

"You're not listening to a work I'm saying," Rhodey says, a frown on his face now.

"I am listening. I'm changing the subject. It's the same litany, every time you've had a thimble of alcohol. Drink one: reflections of the New American Century and related topics -"

"Something's seriously wrong with you, man," Rhodes responds.

"Drink two: a history of World War II and the Tuskeegee Flyers," Tony continues, ignoring Rhodey.

(Y/n) sighs loudly, rolling her eyes and pulling out her phone, and starts texting Nat.

(Y/n): Hey, what's going on at home?

Nat ♥: Nothing much

            I'm bored 😣

(Y/n): I'm sorry  😞

            I wish I could be there, you won't believe what I'm dealing with here.

           When should best friends fight for no reason over drinks? Like what?

Nat ♥: I don't know. We fought that one time.

(Y/n): Well, that was my fault, I kept driving. Anyway, I can't wait to come home. Dad is driving me insane over here. 😒

Nat ♥: I'm actually dying over here 😂

"(Y/n), come on, we've got to go," Tony says, and (Y/n) looks up.

"Okay," (Y/n) stands up, sending Natasha one quick text.

(Y/n): I've got to go 😑

           See you soon

            Love you! ♥

Nat ♥: See you! Love you!

(Y/n) smiles, slips her phone into a secret pocket in her leather jacket near her heart and walks off the plane with her father.

Tony exits the plane, fired up to greet the waiting press, (Y/n) reluctantly shaking their hands after Tony.

Then Rhodes exits the plane in his ABUs, weary, squinting in the stinging sun. He pulls on his sunglasses over his bleary eyes.

Three missiles are on a flatbed which had been unloaded from a military jet. They are brought under heavy guard, waiting for a convoy.

Tony is firing a N.R.F. 425 machine gun while the Generals, (Y/n), and Rhodes are sitting on folding chairs behind a safe-zone of Hescos and sand-bags. Afghani soldiers and Air Force security men patrol the perimeter.

The billionaire puts down the machine gun down next to the other weapons, and struts before the Generals like a carnival barker. "The age old question: is it better to be feared or respected? I say, is it too much to ask for both?"

Tony nods at the Jericho missile, which is sitting on a mobile launcher.

"With that in mind, I humbly present the crown and jewel of Stark Industries Freedom Line. It's the first missile system to incorporate my proprietary Repulsor Technology. They say the best weapon is the one you never have to fire. I prefer the one you only have to fire once..." Once Tony finishes this part of the speech, the Jericho roars into the sky from the launcher.

"That's how Dad did it, it's how America does it, and so far its worked out pretty well," Tony continues. "Find an excuse to fire off one of these and I personally guarantee the enemy is not gonna want to leave their caves."

The Jericho divides from a single missile, into tons of mini-missiles.

(Y/n) looks up and watches as her father raises his arms as he continues, "For your consideration, the Jericho..." (Y/n) flinches a little as the mountains behind his outstretched hands explode, the shock-wave blanketing everyone with dust.

(Y/n) shakes her head as her father adds, "Now there's one last creation I haven't shown anyone yet. You might be interested..." He opens a silvery case, ice-smoke curling out. A bottle rises from inside the case along with drink glasses. As Tony pours, the Generals, (Y/n), and Afghani military officials exchange awkward glances.

Tony Stark raises his glass, "To peace, gentlemen, (Y/n)..." (Y/n) rolls her eyes. "And with every purchase of five hundred million, I'll throw in a free one of these."

After a little bit, the Generals get into their own Humvees and depart towards the east. (Y/n), Tony, and Rhodey walk to their waiting convoy, pointing west.

Tony's phone rings and Obadiah Stane pops up on the video phone.

"Hey, what are you doing up?" Tony asks.

"Sleeping," Stane asks, (Y/n) feeling uncomfortable. She had never been a fan of   Obadiah Stane. "How did it go?"

"I think we got an early Christmas coming," Tony answers.

"Sounds good."

"Hey," Tony asks accusingly, "why aren't you wearing the PJs I got you?"

"I don't do monograms. I'm hanging up now, bye-bye." Stane hangs up.

"All right, who wants to ride with me and (Y/n)?" Tony asks. "Jimmy?"

"Me?" Jimmy asks, psyched.

Dazed, Jimmy and the others jump into the lead Humvee, (Y/n) waiting for Tony.

Sorry, Rhodey," Tony says as his old friend walks up, "no room for my conscience in here. Or that dog look," he raises his glass. "See you back at base." Rhodey shakes his head and heads for a different Humvee.

Tony gets in the Humvee before (Y/n), the (H/C) haired woman leaning her head against the window.

The United States military convoy worms through the barren vista of Afghanistan, rock music swelling in the Humvee that (Y/n), Tony, and three younger people.

After a while of silence, Tony speaks, "Oh, I get it. You guys aren't allowed to talk. Is that it? Are you not allowed to talk?"

One of the Airmen grins, fidgeting with his orange New York Mets watch.

"No," Jimmy says. "We're allowed to talk."

"Oh," Tony says, glancing at his silent daughter for a moment. "I see, so it's personal."

"I think they're intimidated," Ramirez, the one in the passenger seat in front of (Y/n), says.

"Good God!" Tony exclaims. "You're a woman!"

(Y/n) frowns as the other try to stifle a laugh.

"I, honestly, I couldn't have called that," Tony says, and after a moment of silence, he continues. "I would apologize, but isn't that what we're going for here? I saw you as a soldier first."

"I have a question, sir," Jimmy says.

"Please."

"Is it true you're twelve for twelve with last years Maxim cover girls?" Jimmy asks.

"Excellent question. Yes and no. March and I had a schedule conflict but, thankfully, the Christmas cover was twins. Anyone else? You, with the hand up?"

"It's a little embarrassing," warns Pratt, the man sitting beside Tony on the left side.

"Join the club," Tony says.

"Can I take a picture with you?" he asks.

"Are you aware that Native American believe photographs steal a little piece of you soul?" Tony asks, and (Y/n) shoots him an incredulous look. "Not to worry, mine's long gone. Fire away."

Pratt, excited, poses as another Airman takes the photo.

A second later, a massive explosion rocks the truck. Through the windshield, (Y/n) straightens, seeing the Humvee in front of them erupt into a fireball.

(Y/n) is flung aside and she sees through the side mirror, the Humvee behind them exploding.

Pandemonium erupts as the Airman are instantly in battle mode. (Y/n) wants to help, but Fury had told her not to blow her cover. No one could find out about her powers until Fury said it was okay.

The three Airman scramble out of the Humvee, shutting Tony and (Y/n) inside.

The father and daughter look at each other, (Y/n)'s eyes wide.

Then she pulls out her phone and calls Natasha, placing the phone back into her secret pocket, hoping Natasha would track the call.

Another explosion sends (Y/n)'s window blowing in, (Y/n) covering her face as glass and shrapnel showers over her.

Tony opens the door and (Y/n) is forced to jump out, (Y/n) taps the Bluetooth thing in her ear, hearing Natasha's frantic questions and flinching at her girlfriend's tone.

"Something's happening!" (Y/n) cries as the Humvee she and Tony were crouching behind blows up. Before it can land on them, (Y/n) pushes Tony out of the way, (Y/n) rolling with the momentum.

"(Y/n)!" Natasha's voice comes from her ear. "What's going on?!"

"We're under fire! Track the call!" (Y/n) tells her, keeping an eye on her father as he moves on, catching sight of an M-16, but the weapon is too hot and he drops it.

"I've got it!" Natasha yells.

"Good, send some -" (Y/n)'s cut off by a loud ping and it thumps into ground beside Tony.

It detonates, throwing Tony back into some rocks, shredding his suit and revealing his body armor underneath.

"Okay, that's not cool," (Y/n) darts over to Tony, his vision flickering in and out. (Y/n) places an arm under his shoulder and pulls him to his feet. "Shit!" (Y/n) curses as another ping sounds and she turns Tony away from the little bomb and (Y/n) gets blasted a couple of feet away, shrapnel embedding itself into her back.

The Bluetooth piece falls out of (Y/n)'s ear and she lands on her front, the impact ending the call.

(Y/n)'s vision fades in and out and she drags herself over to her father, finally passing out next to him.

About an Hour Before

Natasha is lounging on the couch, watching some random movie on Netflix. Sighing, she stands up go go grab something from the fridge, leftovers from the night before. (Y/n) had made burgers and had made a few extras to have some other time.

Taking her burger into the living room, she sits on the floor, her mind wandering over the last few hours.

"I love you so much Nat," (Y/n) murmurs tiredly. Natasha smiles at the memory and her phone buzzes.

(Y/n): Hey, what's going on at home?

Nat: Nothing much

         I'm bored 😣

(Y/n): I'm sorry 😞            I wish I could be there, you won't believe what I'm dealing with here.           When should best friends fight for no reason over drinks? Like what?

Nat: I don't know. We fought that one time.

(Y/n): Well, that was my fault, I kept driving. Anyway, I can't wait to come home. Dad is driving me insane over here. 😒

Natasha laughs, shaking her head slightly.

Nat: I'm actually dying over here 😂

(Y/n): I've got to go 😑            See you soon           Love you! ♥

Natasha smiles at her girlfriend's words. The redhead feels her heart swell as she stares at the two words she thought she would never hear or see from another human being.

Nat: See you! Love you!

Natasha relaxes into the bottom of the couch, a soft smile on her face and she pulls her plate into her lap and hitting the play button on the remote. About forty-five minutes, Natasha is finally getting invested in the movie, when her phone rings.

Feeling a little confused at seeing (Y/n)'s name, Natasha hits the answer button and her eyes widen at the sounds of explosions.

"(Y/n)! What's going on?!" Natasha asks frantically.

"Something's happening!" (Y/n) exclaims over another explosion.

"(Y/n)!" Natasha asks again. "What's going on?!"

"We're under fire! Track the call!" (Y/n) tells Natasha. The redhead darts downstairs and into (Y/n)'s lab, sliding into the desk chair and typing in the password and plugging in the phone in the call tracking app that (Y/n) had installed onto her laptop for emergencies.

"I've got it!" Natasha yells after a moment.

"Good, send some -" (Y/n)'s cut off by a loud ping that even Natasha could here, and a thumps into ground. It detonates, and Natasha's eyes widen in fear, hoping that the worst hadn't happened. "Okay, that's not cool," (Y/n) says, grunting and Natasha is able to breath again.

"Shit!" (Y/n) curses as another ping sounds and then the call ends, with Natasha staring at the phone in shock.

Natasha pulls her phone off the plugin and takes a picture of the call's origin, and dials Clint's number. "Clint, we've got a problem?"

Clint freezes at the distress in Natasha's voice. "Nat? What is it?"

"(Y/n)'s been kidnapped!" Natasha answers. Clint's eyes widen in horror, Laura turning to stare at her husband, the brunette having heard since the phone had been on speaker.

Word Count: 3225 words

Well... Here you go...

Was this the father / daughter time y'all were asking for?

No?  Sorry...

I promise I'm not heartless...

Anyway, I've got to go on to work on another book now.

See y'all!

Love - Did you catch that scene at the beginning?

            Kaitlynn ❤😍

Imma tag peoples now: @confusinggemini612, @gay-disaster826, @thelastavenger-3000, @osugahunnyicedtea, @night-howl199, @minicastle, @happilyeverafterfantasybooks, @billiebanner, @me-and-sweatpants, @scottjudah, @scarlet-raccoon, @whore-for-charlynch, @nyx-aria, @night-howl199, @brittanyrenne2004, @juegamiri29, @minicastle, @peggycarter-steverogers, @gay-disaster826, @guitargodme, @avengers-avenging, @natashadeservedbetter2​

[uno-reverse-fic]

Part 2 Chapter 5

Bakugo could feel your tiny body trembling in his hands. He could barely hear your voice, "Please..." Was all you said, over and over, lowering to a whisper, dying down with each breath. He couldn't take you with him, he couldn't do that to you, and so he stood up and began making his way towards the common area.

"Hey bro! Have you seen Surō? She's been gone for like 20 minutes." Kirshima asked Bakugo as he walked in the room. All he responded with was a glance towards his hands that had been cupped against his chest.

"Oh seriously?!" Kaminari exclaimed,

"She couldn't have waited five more minutes?!"

"Bro, she can't control it, its not even her quirk." Kirshima told him, before turning back to Bakugo,

"You found her so you can keep her I guess."

"No."

"Huh? But I thought you—"

"No." Bakugo repeated his response.

"She's terrified. I can feel her shaking, she doesn't want to stay with me. Not after what I did last time." Bakugo forced his hand towards Kirshima, who quickly took you into his own hands and slid you into his pocket. You could hear a few muffled whispers from the two of them, but you couldn’t make out much of what they were saying. Bakugo walked off a few moments later, and the second he turned the corner Kaminari began pestering Kirshima.

"C'mon dude lemme see her!"

"No. Not right now. I'm heading up to my room anyway." Kirshima didn't bother asking you first, he figured you'd probably want some alone time today. As he walked up the stairs to his dorm he slid his hand into his pocket and cradled you. His thumb rested firmly against your chest, and you were pressed into his fingers. You could feel him sit down on the bed as he pulled you out of his pocket. He held you in his hands, with his thumb still resting on your chest. He turned you over with his eyes, examining your small features. An awkward silence fell over the room, Kirshima didn't seem to notice it, but you sure as heck did. You looked around the room, impatient, and slightly flustered from the silence. You moved your hand to his thumb, and his eyes immediately lit up with wonder and awe. Sure you trusted Kirshima, but you hated when he looked at you like that. You guessed he figured out that you were uncomfortable because he snapped out of his trance,

"Oh sorry, that was awkward. Uh, do you want something to eat? I can go get some lunch." He asked, you nodded in response. He started standing up but stopped himself,

"Oh, uh. Do you want to come with me and eat downstairs or do you wanna stay up here and I can bring the food up to my room?"

"I'd rather stay here, I guess." You said, your voice timid.

"Alright, here," Kirshima set you on the bed next to him before getting up to leave,

"Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back." He told you before shutting the door and walking downstairs.

A couple minutes later a knock sounded on the door.

"Hey, hair-for-brains. Open up." You recognized that voice, it was Bakugo. The panic immediately began seeping in, and you began searching around for a good place to hide. You decided to slide in between the pillows on the bed, praying that Kirshima had locked the door on his way out. Another knock,

"Come on idiot. Open up," your heart pounded wildly in your chest. You really didn't want to go back with Bakugo, and you were 90% sure thats what he was here for. He spoke again,

"You left your sweatshirt downstairs. I don't have time to deal with your crap, I'm tired." Bakugo stood silently, outside the door for a few more minutes, and you were almost sure he had left, until he spoke again,

"I'm just gonna leave this outside the door." He said, and you finally heard his footsteps trudge away down the hall. You stayed hidden for a few more seconds in case he came back, and to let your trembling body calm down a bit.

You stepped out from behind the pillows just in time to see Kirshima open the door with the sweatshirt in his hand.

"Do you know who dropped this off?" You shook your head, you didn't want him to get worried over nothing.

"Huh. guess I'll just have to ask Kaminari if he knows. Oh, here's your lunch." He said placing a small bowl with some ramen in it next to you, before sitting down on the opposite side of the bed with is own lunch. The bowl was about 3 times your height, in length, and it reached just above your chest in height. You were ecstatic, for a couple reasons, one being you had a lot of ramen to eat, and two being you weren't going to be eating the same thing for a week straight.

"OH! Wait I almost forgot!" Kirshima said, quickly pulling a broken toothpick from his pocket.

"Its not the best, but look! Mini chopsticks!" He said handing them to you. The only problem was that each piece was about half your size, so they were a bit hard to use as chopsticks. Instead you decided that stabbing and fishing out, a noodle with one of them was a better approach. Kirshima laughed,

"Or that works too!" He said as you shoved one end of a noodle in your mouth, and looking at him with wide eyes. You bit off part of the noodle and continued eating. The two of you began talking a bit while you ate, swapping jokes and stories. Not even five minutes into the conversation and Kirshima was already snorting ramen broth up his nose with euphoria, and you had almost choked a few times while laughing.

"That all your gonna eat?" He asked after you finished, you nodded in response.

"Wow, you really don't eat much at that size do you." He mused. You looked the other way in embarrassment.

Kirshima didn't notice your change in demeanor as he grabbed the dishes and set off downstairs. About 20 minutes later he came back upstairs with a few movies in his hand.

"Hey so I know you've probably already watched a ton of movies and stuff today, but its a good way to pass the time, so I grabbed a few that I thought you'd like." He said, a nervous look crossing his face. He walked over and spread the moves out on the bed, before sitting down cross legged on the other side. There were about ten movies, most of them being Disney films, you ended up settling on one of the newer Disney movies.

"Thats funny, I was actually hoping you'd lean more towards that one." Kirshima commented, gathering up the rest of the movies and tossing them on his bedside table. He popped the CD in the side of the mini TV in front of his bed, and pushed play. He slid back onto the bed next to you, and lowered his hand down, gesturing for you to climb on.

"C'mon, I wont hurt you or anything, I just figured you'd get a better view on my shoulder or something." He reassured you. For a moment you hesitated, but eventually you climbed slowly onto the palm of his hand. You felt the force of gravity push down on you as Kirshima's hand ascended towards his shoulder. You slid off his hand, which hovered around you until you settled down next to his neck. You grew tired throughout the movie and found yourself slumped against Kirshima's neck in exhaustion by the end of the movie. You completely missed the way he tensed up with every movement you made. He decided to put another movie in, this time of his choice. He didn't want to bother you too much so carefully he stood up and replaced the CD in the movie player, all while you laid slumped against his neck. By the time the second movie was over, about three hours had passed.

Kirishima nudged you awake,

"Ok, so as much as I would love to watch movies all day, we have to do something else, I was thinking of hanging out downstairs with everyone else until dinner. Sound good?" He asked.

"Mhm." You replied tiredly. All drowsiness was quickly swept away when you felt giant fingers wrapping carefully around your body. You let out a small yelp in surprise, as Kirshima lifted you away from his shoulder and slid you into his sweatshirt pocket. You could feel his movements as he walked downstairs. Almost as if he was waiting for it Kaminari ran up to him.

“Hey bro! How’s Surō?! Is she here?! Can I see her?!” He word-vomited.

“Not right now, she’s a bit tired, and I don’t think she wants to be bombarded with questions.” Kirshima replied.

“What are you? Her personal voice box?” Kaminari quipped.

“Wha— no! I just don’t think— never mind .” Kirshima stuttered.

“Fine. Can we at least talk about memes?” Kaminari asked.

“Heck yes bro!” Kirshima enthused. The two of them sat and talked for a while, you listened to every word, and laughed along quietly with a few of the jokes. You would have loved to participate in that conversation, but just like Kirshima, you didn’t completely trust Kaminari.

“Ill be right back dude, gonna get a drink of water.” Kirshima said.

“Get one for me too!” Kaminari shouted. You felt Kirshima take his sweatshirt off, and could heater his footsteps retreating. Not even a second after he turned the corner did Kaminari quickly reach into his sweatshirt pocket and pull you out. You let out a small cry of fear, as he brought you up to his massive face.

“Woa, your so small!” He exclaimed, but his astonishment was short lived, because as soon as Kirshima walked back into the room he quickly ran over towards you.

“C’mon dude, I leave for two minutes and this is what I come back to?” Kirshima said.

“Well I figured she was probably more awake by now.” Kaminari replied.

“Whatever just give her back.”

“Aww cant I hold her for a little longer?! She’s so cute!” Kaminari pleaded

“Yea, she is, but she’s still a person.” Kirshima told him.

“I know! I’ll be careful! Its not like I’m gonna hurt her or anything.”

“Fine, but not long.” Kirshima said, giving into Kaminari’s begging. You really didn’t like the way they talked about you like you weren’t there, but it couldn’t be helped. Kaminari was careful not to hurt you, and for that you were grateful. Soon you found yourself settling closer into his hands, as the two if them talked.

Dinner came and went quickly, and soon you found yourself waiting for Kirshima to return to his dorm from showering. You heard chatter outside the door, but couldn’t make out any words or specific voices. And when Kirshima finally opened the door you caught a glimpse of Bakugo walking the other way. Kirshima took note of your tense demeanor when he picked you up.

“Oh I was just thanking him for getting my sweatshirt earlier, he told me he found out on the couch in the common area, and recognized that it was mine. Nothing to worry about.” He reassured you. He didn’t put you down until he was sure you had calmed down. A few more hours passed where the two of you talked, before the two of you finally grew tired.

“I’m gonna go to sleep now. If you need anything just wake me.” Kirshima said with a yawn. You nodded and watched as he laid down on the pillow next to you, his hand coming up to rest against your back. You tried your best to fall asleep but you were freezing, and after a few minutes you decided you couldn’t take it. You stood up and slowly stumbled over to his face, but in your tired clumsiness, you ended up tripping and falling into him.

“You good?” He asked. You steadied yourself against the bridge of his nose before stammering out an answer.

“I-I was just c-cold.”

“Oh, here.” He said, his fingers wrapping around you and pulling you downward. He pressed you into the base of his neck, and you felt the warmth flood around you.

“Geez you’re shivering, sorry bout that, guess I didn’t think you’d get so cold.” His voice vibrated and flowed through you, and soon enough you were drifting off to sleep.

————————————————————

I GOT THIS DONE ALMOST ON TIME!!! Good for me I guess. Well i broke my arm so thats why this chapter came out on Thursday instead of Wednesday. But thats fine I guess. Also!! I’m trying my best to make an update schedule!! I will try to update every 2-3 weeks on Wednesdays! With that said have a beautiful day you beautiful person.

MASTERLIST

[nellynee]

FowlPlayAU (aka Miraculous Peacock Marinette AU)

Literally no one asked but I don’t care. An AU in which Marinette holds the Peacock Miraculous

This actually developed from a few different threads that I tugged on over the course of a few months.

I guess the starting point for this was probably the season 1 episode “Simon Says” with the very short but profound moment of understanding between Gabriel and Ladybug over the pedestal they both placed Adrien on and the subsequent really, really heavy handed comparisons everyone kept making towards everyone else about who resembled Emilie the most

Basically I thought this episode was the heaviest seed in the narrative of the parallels between Gabriel and Marinette, both fashion career focused workaholics who take way to much responsibility on their own shoulders and get obsessive to the point of destructiveness over their respective, similar love interests, and using those parallels as a point of interest in showing both Marinette's growth as she moves beyond that destructive mentality and towards regarding Adrien as a person and how Gabriel’s “love conquers all” mentality isn’t an inherently positive thing but no. *sigh* no, they needed more screen time for one time characters. It fleshes out the world,yes, but not the characters. LOTS of interesting long term threads were dropped in favor of broadening the cast to try and shoehorn that “kid superhero group” into the show that was originally tossed. Basically I’m saying that I do think Gabriel and Marinette have enough in common to surprise some people, including each other, and I’m a sucker for intergenerational friendships

The second main factor was the small subplot at the time of Gabriel suspecting Adrien of being Cat Noir. I got really interested after “Gorizilla” about what might actually happen if Gabriel did figure out that Adrien was Cat Noir at that point in the series (I have words about Cat Blanc, trust me. No those words aren’t “throw the whole mess out the window” because I actually love it. But many, many words) Going off the heavy handed implications that Emilie was the former Peacock, I thought it would be interesting, and in character, for Gabriel desperately analyze his son’s behavior as Cat Noir, trying to figure out WTF Adrien thinks he’s doing, only to realize that Cat Noir has some pretty obvious affections for Ladybug. This is unacceptable of course, but understandable in a “he’s a hormone ridden, teenage boy, and Gabriel was once too the same sort of boy in love with the same sort of heroin” sort of way. The obvious answer to getting rid of what is the only possible obstacle for his son’s cooperation (I was going off the pilot with the potential of Cat Noir as a Hawkmoth agent because of their familial connections) is to get rid of his affections, and since it has to be shallow, he’s too young and also Gabriel controls his whole life so it can’t be love, then all he has to do is shift his son’s affections. Cue an uncomfortable number of episodes in which Gabriel subtly inserts a B plot into his Akumatized villains by trying to push various girl together with his son in carefully controlled circumstances. Because this is before Kasumi, and again, those nice parallels between Marinette and Gabriel himself, he eventually after trial and error settles on Marinette as the perfect candidate. Thus, we get a series of hilarious situations in which Marinette and Adrien are pushed more and more into high pressure uncomfortable and intimate situations, losing time and ability to turn into their superhero personas as a natural deterrent to power creep and justifying the use of other Miraculous users a lot more. 

I saw someone comment in one of their author’s notes on a fic a long time ago that they hated the trope of Marinette being an emotional Atlas and my instantaneous internal response that that kinda WAS Marinette's character early series, especially the origin episode, and that a lot of the most prevalent fics were written in that time period, and that really intense response from me really stuck. 

Peacock aesthetic. yup, that alone gets an equal piece of the pie 

So yeah, if any of that interests you, keeping in mind that on top of potential sympathy and understanding of his actions, Gabriel is still absolutly a shitty person, then the actual (canon divergent) AU is under the cut.

The actual thing diverts during Stone Heart, in which the moment Marinette decided to become Ladybug for realsies rather than try to faust it off Alya doesn’t happen. Rather than deciding to put on the earings, Marinette distracts the monster enough they can get away. Alya finds the earings, and takes up the Mantle of Ladybug.

This decidedly marks a regression in Marinette. Where as Ladybug, and with Tiki’s constant assurances and influence, Marinette learns to work past her urges to take responsibility for everyone’s emotions, Marinette has now lost that constant companion, and has to deal to with her new best friend’s time being diverted

Cut forward to “Stormy Weather” and Marinette has fallen into a vicious cycle of guilt. The little creature had told her it was her destiny to be Ladybug. And while we know that the situation with Hawkmoth is not much different than it is in canon, Marinette is totally convinced that the only reason Hawkmoth is still around hurting people is because she rejected the call. That guilt has built into a feeling of impotent inadequacy that convinces her that she’s no longer deserving of the Ladybug roll, and so she’s both unable to do anything, and responsible for Hawkmoth still being around. 

The most prevalent of episode changes is Lady Wifi. It’s Marinette who’s akumatized, not Alya, and it’s a fairly traumatizing, but empowering experience for Marinette. 

The ultimate culmination of this is this universe’ “Volpina” episode, where, in the background of main battle events, Marinette gains an understanding of the suspicions that Gabriel might be Hawkmoth, and in the climax of the battle, believing Adrien in danger, she confronts him, confirming his alter ego. 

In a scene I have no time to actually extrapolate on, if your curious, just ask, Gabriel and Marinette come to a tentative understanding. He’ll give her the powers to protect his son, and she’ll actually have some sort of control in her life again. This akumatization takes the form of a faux Peacock Miraculous. 

This marks the first half of her partnership as an antihero with Hawkmoth. (and yes, I do have the mechanics of how he can akumatized more than one person at a time without Catalyst, which will be extrapolated upon request, but this is long enough already)

Again, I wanna draw attention to those Sweet, Sweet Marinette and Gabriel parallels. Gabriel, through half truths and carefully peppered moments of emotional manipulation and practiced vulnerability, attempts to B plot Marinette into stealing the Miraculouses. Believing herself to be at least somewhat in his thrall, Marinette allows herself to empathize with his plight, and they build a surprising, if strained, raport. 

After discovering that she is not, in fact, under Hawkmoth’s control Marinette rebels just long enough to have Hawkmoth take back his Akuma, and Marinette caves the next time Adrien is in Genuine Danger, stealing the real Peacock Miraculous and using it.

This marks the second half of their partnership, and Hawkmoth reveals that the miraculous is broken, and Marinette is now dying from it’s use, and that her only choice of survival is to help him make his wish. This evens out the power balance, at they both now have the same goals and powers independent of each other, but also ups ante. 

That’s the most tldr general of overview, with other more specific highlights like

Ladybug!Alya having to reach her own emotional maturity, her earlier stint as a hero leaving her with a much bigger ego in terms of how she perceives her impact of the morale of the city and where her priorities lie in trying to boost that morale vs her personal needs. Ladybug!Alya tries too hard to take notes from already established heroes and public images. She still runs the Ladyblog, Spiderman style.

After quickly realizing (after some confusion) that the Ladybug he fought Stoneheart with the last time is not the same as the one he fought the first time with, Adrien gets a big old case of the pining sighs

Early series Adrien and Alya are both not the type to value secret identities, and so yes, they do reveal said identities to each other fairly early.

They also can both keep a fucking secret, so it works. They are secret BFFs

After the first time Adrien is rescued by the mysterious Peacock Holder, he figures out that whoever she is, she’s the original Ladybug, and more and more ends up distracted and drawn away from fights by her, the perfect reason for Alya to have to bring in other miraculous users. (the interactions tend to take place on moonlit balconies. There’s heavy Pilot influences here)

Marinette does this thing where she spreads her fan when she’s startled and hides her face. Mostly because Cat Noir wont stay out of it. The miraculous’ memory means she tends to fan speak a lot. Symbolism

Speaking of symbolism, the character designs are rife with them. I know exactly what Peacock Marinette looks like and there’s a reason for everything.

The subplot where (inspired by the pilot) Cat Noir finds out that there used to be a curse on the ring that could only be lifted by a kiss from Ladybug (thanks to her creation/retcon powers). Cat Noir convinces (inaccurately) himself that his destruction powers can totally do something similar with Hawkmoth’s mind control now all he needs is to kiss the Peacock user and she’ll be free! She’s totes not a bad guy!

Yes, Marinette does get a different miraculous ala being an episode helper, and her emotions are complicated about it

And other fun tidbits. This got way to long but I’m more than willing to extrapolate on anything more specific that anyone is curious about

[shadedrose01]

Just Breathe

Ship: none, platonic (paternal) relationship between Harley Keener and Tony Stark

Summary: Harley has a panic attack, Tony helps

Tags: none (not posted on ao3)

Author note: this was a story that I originally wrote for febufluff day 7, "hugs" before realizing that it neither had hugs, nor was it very fluffy, like at all. I didnt want to just scrap it, so I figured I'd post it here. I am going to write another story for day 7 of febufluff, but it'll just come out a bit later 🤷‍♀️🤣

TRIGGER WARNING: This story is all about Harley having a panic attack due to his bullies finding out he is gay, and threatening to tell his school about it (aka being homophobic assholes). I describe the panic attack in detail, so if that's not your speed, DO NOT READ. Be safe, please, I love you all ❤

--

Click, click, click-

Harley clicks his pen unconsciously, his leg bunching up and down repeatedly, staring down at his paper with squinted eyes, hoping, begging his mind to focus on the homework.

Click, click, click-

Its math homework, Harley is good at math, he has always been good at math, so why cant he just focus? Why cant he just finish the problem?

Click, click, click-

The question muddles in front of him again, and Harley begs himself not to think about it, tries his hardest to focus, focus, focus! but his cries go unheard, the memory swarming into the forefront of his thoughts once more.

The note on his desk, telling him to be behind the school after class. The walk there, where Harley's curiosity had beat out his fear (such a stupid decision, he should have just left, should have just gone home-). The anticipation, leaning against the old, dirty brick, just waiting, waiting, watching and waiting. The group that had shown up, a bunch of bullies from his school, had surrounded him, pushed him up against that very same brick and held him there like pray, grins smug and eyes glistening, eyes knowing.

They knew his secret, they said, his secret that he was trying to hide for days, for months, for forever, trying to bury as deep into himself as he possibly could. Had said that they had caught him a few days, at the movies, with a kid from out of town, a boy from out of town. Had said that they saw them kiss, had said that they knew, knew who he really was, what he really was, had called him vulgar words, names and curses and swears, had beat him into the ground then and there, and walked away laughing.

They told him that they were telling the entire school. They were going to tell the school about his- his feelings, his sexuality, and- and everybody would hate him, hate his guts for something he couldn't control, can't control, had tried to control for so long, for so so long, and then- then the school was going to tell his mother, and his mother would hate him too, abandon him just like his father had, and Abbie would hate him, leave him too. He'd be all alone, all alone and nobody would care about him, nobody would miss him, nobody would want him and- and-

And he can't breathe.

Oh god, he can't breathe.

Harley tries to take a deep breath in, but all he can manage is a shallow gasp, his lungs feeling as if two vice grips are squeezing them on the highest setting, not allowing them to expand and contract, not allowing air to flow freely, not allowing him to breathe. He keeps trying, his faint gasps getting louder and louder, harder and harder to do, his heart beat drumming in his ears, fast and quick, and he's shaking, shaking like a leaf, and he cant stop, cant breath, his chest aches, his heart aches and oh god, he's dying, he's dying, he's going to die out here, in his garage, all by himself, all alone, his mother working and his sister with her friends, all alone, all alone-

He needs to call someone. He needs to- to-

Harley scrambles for his phone, placed beside the sheets of paper that are slowly blurring together as tears fill his eyes, and he tries multiple times to open it, failing, failing, failing every time, -nobody's going to know, he's dying, he can't- until finally, finally it opens, and he clicks on his contacts list, scrolls to the M's, and presses call, holding it up to his ear.

His other hand as made its way to his chest, having a death grip on his shirt as his chest continues to get tighter and tighter, the air feeling thicker and thicker, the room blurring and spinning and he wont make it, he wont make it until-

"Harley? Harley, I need you to breathe, kid." Its faint, Tony's staticky voice barely heard over the blood rushing in his ears, but it's there, and Harley clings to it like a lifeline (it is, it is a lifeline, his only chance at surviving-).

"I- I dont- I cant-" Harley wheezes, curling into himself, resting his head in between his knees and squeezing his eyes shut, hoping it'll help his rapidly increasing dizziness, hoping it'll stop the room from spinning so damn much, hoping it'll stop his world from collapsing on top of him like it is right now, god, please, have mercy-

Tony breaks through the white noise again, his tone softer than Harleys ever heard it, but strong, urgent. "You can, kid. I know it doesn't feel like it, but you can. You gotta try for me, okay?"

Harley just shakes his head, even though he knows Tony cant see it, his body trembling again as adrenaline rushes through his veins. "I'm dying, I'm- I- oh god I'm dying-"

"You aren't dying, Harls, I promise you, you aren't. You're having a panic attack." Harley doesnt respond to that, just sobbing in between his wheezing because he's dying, he knows he is, he can feel it, he's- "Kid, you're going to pass out if you don't breathe, so I need you to listen to me okay? I want you to breathe in for 4 seconds, hold it for 7 and then breath out for 8, you think you can do that for me?"

Harley doesnt, he doesnt think he can do it, but hes gotta- he's gotta try something, anything, he can't just go down without a fight, without giving it a shot. "O-O-O-Okay."

"Okay, follow me, okay? Inhale, one, two three, four-" He hears Tony take a deep breath, and tries to as well, shuttering with a sob as his lungs refuse to expand, refuse to listen, stopping his inhale after two, "Its okay, kiddo, you're doing good, now hold it for me, seven seconds, you got this." Harley tries again, holding his breath even as his body spasms, screaming at him to keep breathing, keep breathing, there isn't enough air, need more air, need- "and release for eight seconds," The air forces it's way out of Harleys lung in one loud push, and he immediately gasps again as soon as his lungs are empty. He expects Tony to be mad at him (he'll be mad at him, hate him just like his mom will, the school will-) , but the older man just keeps reassuring him gently, calmly, soothing Harleys worries. "There you go, bud, see? You got this, you can do this. Let's do that a few more times now, okay?"

They repeat the motion over and over again, and to Harleys surprise, after a while, the inhales start to get easier, his lungs start to open up again, relaxing and stretching again, and his heart starts to slow back to it's normal rate. He's still shaking, but its mostly aftershocks now, the last bits of the adrenaline rush draining out of his body. But now that he's calming down and he doesnt feel like he's dying, he can feel the shame and the horror start to creep it's way in, embarassment flushing his cheeks. "I-Im sorry." He whispers out shakily, running his free hand through his hand before holding it tightly, yanking at it slightly.

"Don't apologize for this, Harley, please." The man sounds tired, in more of a physically/mentally exhausted kind of way over an 'I'm annoyed and hate you' kind of way. Harley still feels a tinge of guilt though. "Are you feeling better now?"

He swallows, his throat dry and sore from heaving in and out breaths. "Yeah, yeah I think so. Thanks."

Theres a pause, a moment of awkward, long and uncomfortable silence that Harley isnt sure how to break, isn't sure he really wants know, until the question he was anxiously dreading breaks it anyways. "Kid..." Tony sighs quietly, "I know we dont normally... do this, the whole having emotional talks about our problems thing, but-" he pauses again, thinking his words through. "...do you want to talk about it?"

Harley grits his teeth, before deflecting. "Talk about what?"

"Harley." The man's tone turns stern, but still soft, still gentle, like Harley's a fragile ceramic plate placed at the end of a shelve, one from blow of wind away from falling and shattering. Then, randomly, he speaks up again, his voice sounding more defeated, resigned, "Look, bud, I cant force you to say anything, but I know from experience that talking about it can help sometimes."

Harley sighs, knowing he isn't going to get out of this, no matter how much he wants to (or, how much he thinks he wants to, even if theres some small part in the back of his brain calling out to him, longing for him to tell Tony everything, no matter the inevitable consequences-). He just shrugs, scuff his foot against the cement ground of his garage, mumbling out. "I don't know what to say, where to start..."

"That's okay. Just say something. Starting is always the hardest part."

Harley snorts, trying to lighten the mood one last time. "Since when did you become a therapist?"

"Since I started going to one." Tony deadpans, a tiny light of amusement ringing in his tone before it disappears again, back to serious. "You can tell me anything, Harley. No judgement, okay, maybe a little bit of judgement depending, but no everlasting grudges, I promise."

Harley chuckles lightly, his back of his eyes burning suddenly, randomly, a flash of warmth flowing through him. Because even with all of his self deprecating thoughts, even with all his anxiety, the one thing Harley knows about Tony Stark is that he always keeps his promises, no matter what it costs to do so.

And so, Harley tells him. Tells him his truth, shakily, nervously, painstakingly slow and fearful, only to be told instantly that it's okay, that he is okay, that it doesn't change anything. Tells him about the boys at his school, about their attack, about their plans with a few split tears and a sob or two. Tells him about how afraid he really is, about how he doesnt know how anyone will react, if his friends will leave him or not, if his family will still love him after it all. And Tony reassures him the whole time, backs him up through it all, telling him it'll all be okay, that even if the school finds out and it becomes a big deal, that it'll blow over in a few weeks, and if it doesnt, that high school is just the first part and a small portion of a longer, bigger life. Telling him that if his friends leave, that they arent truly his friends, and that he knows that his mom, his sister will love him no matter what. "Theres only a few things I know about Macy Keener, but I do know for a fact that she loves her son to death, and couldnt even imagine her life without him in it." (That caused a few more tears to be shed).

And after it's all said and done, the call ended and "The Mechanic" is shining back at him in big white letters, Harley starts back to work on his math assignment with a grin on his face, feeling lighter, better than he has in a long time.

[ghostofviperwrites]

Requited

Requested by @i-ship-it-okay

Pairing:  Chase Owens/FC

Category:   Fluff

Word Count: 1155

Warnings:  None

15.“Everyone can tell you love me. It’s obvious” and 137. “Can you shut up for five seconds?”

Humiliation was your prevalent emotion.   Oh, there was some anger and despair floating around, but if you had to pinpoint one it was definitely humiliation.  Darting around a corner you ducked into a storage closet and slammed the door behind you.   Sinking to the floor you buried your face against your knees as you relived the moment again and again.   When this day had started you had never imagined you would wind up hiding in a closet by noon.  Of course, you hadn’t expected Chase Owens to call you out on your crush either.  

Sitting in the cafeteria you had been enjoying your meal with a few of your friends when Chase had walked in with the rest of the Japan side of the Bullet Club.  You would admit to staring as you were wont to do when you saw Chase. Over the seven months you had worked for New Japan your feelings for Chase had steadily grown. You had thought he and you were friends.   You never hinted at your feelings certain they were unrequited.  Apparently, you hadn’t hidden them as well as you had hoped.  

The Bullet Club had taken up the table next to yours insults and jokes flying with abandon as they usually did.  You didn’t pay much attention until you heard your name.   Head jerking up your cheeks had flushed as they realized they were teasing Chase about your little crush on him.   Desperate to deflect you had spoken up.

‘I do not have feelings for Chase!”  You had denied hotly wishing for the floor to swallow you whole as the attention of everyone at both tables was suddenly focused directly on you.  

“Everyone can tell you love me.  It’s obvious” Chase had scoffed with a roll of his eyes and a loud laugh.  As his words crashed over you, you felt sick to your stomach.  He knew?  You almost felt like you were going to hyperventilate pushing away from the table and running from the room ignoring the calls from behind you.  

That was how you had ended up crouched in a supply closet trying to talk yourself out of dying of embarrassment. You weren’t sure how much time had passed before there was a knock on the door.   You flinched when the handle was rattled, and a groan of frustration sounded from the hall.  

“Y/N, please open up!”  Another knock sounded as Chase’s voice floated through the steel door.  “Please, just let me in so I can talk to you.”  You stayed silent, not quite ready to face him after your humiliation.  “Look, I’m sorry.   I’m such a jerk.  I didn’t mean to embarrass you.  Please just let me talk to you, face-to-face.”  

You bit your lip hand reaching for the door, unable to leave him begging in the hallway after his apology.   Pulling the door open slightly you immediately lowered your head back to your knees as Chase entered.   You could feel the heat emanating from him as he slid down the wall next to you. Silence reigned for several moments as each of you waited for the other to speak.  Finally, you broke the ice.

“Thank you for apologizing.’  You said quietly.  “I know you didn’t mean it as badly as it sounded.  It was a shock to hear.  I didn’t think I had been that obvious in my feelings. I never intended to make you feel uncomfortable and I completely understand if you want me to leave.  The last thing I want to do is make your work life difficult.  I can quit. I’ll find a new job.”  You babbled on as Chase stared at you with a bemused expression. “I’m certain I can find something soon.  I’ll be gone before you know it and you won’t ever have to think about me again.  I’ll just be a thought.  Or not even a thought.  Cause why would you think about me?  I mean that’s stupid.  I just meant you won’t have to see me unless you think about me.”  You winced as the words came about jumbled again.  “But again, why would someone like you think about someone like me?”  

“Can you shut up for five seconds?” Chase finally interrupted you.  Your eyes widened, and you looked at him embarrassment once again flushing your face.  

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled looking down at the concrete flooring.  

“Don’t apologize.  I think you’re rambling is kind of cute.” He said making your head jerk up to see a wide smile on his face.  The smile that had drawn you to him in the first place.  It lit up his whole face and made his eyes shine.  You adored it and were somewhat surprised to find it on his face at the moment.  

“You do?” You asked uncertainly giving him a small answering smile.  

“I do.  I find a lot of things about you cute.” Chase said.  “I love your sense of humor. Your smile takes my breath away.  I like the way your blush sneaks down your neck.”  

You stared back at him at a loss for words. It almost sounded like Chase had a bit of a crush on you as well.  

“I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to say that like that.”  Chase said.  This time it was him who lowered his gaze, staring down at the floor as he continued. “I just panicked. Here I was planning to ask you out finally and you were saying you didn’t have feelings for me. Despite the guys constantly telling me that you were into me.  I never wanted to embarrass you like that.  I’m just stupid sometimes and don’t think before I talk.”

“You were going to ask me out?”  You latched onto those words the rest of the speech unnecessary as you had already forgiven him with his first apology.

“I was.” Chase confirmed looking back up with a smile.

“You still going to?” You asked lightly, your smile growing as you waited for his response.

“I am.”  He said with a nod.

“I’m looking forward to it.” You said pushing to your feet, Chase quickly rising and helping you up.  

“I’m going to do it properly.  Not in a supply closet.”  Chase said lifting your hand and pressing a kiss to it that had butterflies floating in your stomach.  

He turned and opened the door ushering you into the hallway.  

“I have a match, so I need to go get ready.”  Chase said walking side-by-side with you.  “But I’m going to come find you later and I’m going to ask a question and I hope your answer will be yes.”

He left you staring after him with stars in your eyes and knowing without a shadow of a doubt that your response would be a resounding yes.

[klara-with-a-k]

Peter pan #2

Klaras pov.:

After a while I dosed of to the sound of soothing music, It also must have been very late, and a whole night of dancing, no wonder I was going to pass out tired.

I woke up to the feeling of pressure being pushed on top of my lower body. When I opened my eyes, I saw pan over my body, covering my mouth with his hand, while using the other hand to tell to me to be quiet.

He then slowly leaned over and whispered in my ear: "Hooks awake he's on watch duty, so stay quiet and follow me." By this point my heart was racing over the roof, but I ignored the butterflies in my stomach and nodded my head.

He got off me, and gestured his hand to me, to help me up, but instead of taking it I smacked it away and got up on my own, this made pan smirk and shake his head, as he started to walk to the forest, as I followed closely behind.

After a while of walking I decided to speak up: " why didn't you just poof us away? You did it last time." "That's because regina would be able to sense my powers." He simply said.

"Okay then, what do you want?" He stoped in his tracks, and turned around to face me, he seemed annoyed with me. "Look, you still have to do more distracting, that's why I thought I was gonna take you somewhere safe, for you to hide." "Hide? Hide from what?" I cut in. "You didn't let me finish!" He glared at me. "Okay, okay! Sorry!" I apologize.

"As I was saying, we're gonna make it look like you ran away, that way they're going to have to find you first befor they find Henry." He continued. "No offense but that's kind of a shity plan." I said as he looked at me confused while also looking offended at the same time. "Do you have a better plan?" He hissed. "As a matter of fact, I do! You probably think that they'll care for me to the point that they'll risk their own family members life just to find my stupid ass the second time of running away, well you're obviously wrong about that." I explained. "Well then tell me your brilliant plan." "Fuck no! I already helped you enough!" I replied. "Do you wanna get stranded in the middle of no where all alone or what?" He threatened. "Go ahead! I'm not scared, I've been in this type of situation before, what makes you think I wont survive?" "Ugh! You are so infuriating!!!" He shouted at me. "I know that! Look we can just play along with your plan, but that doesn't mean it'll work, because you might not know this but Peter Pan DOES fail!" I shouted back, pissing pan to the point where he slammed my whole body against a tree, while have a knife at my throat.

"You dare talk back to me!" "Go ahead... do it!" I looked straight into his eyes with no fear, as his expression softened. We started into each other's eyes for a while, before pan pulled away.

"Tell me what your plan is or I'll go after Henry." He said simply. He really knew my weakness, I couldn't let Henry die earlier.

I looked away from him, disappointed in myself as I spoke: "If you pretend to kidnapped me, they might be more concerned with my well being, but you'd have to kidnap me in front of them. Make it seem that I'm important. So they would come and save me." I explained with little to no life in my words, I felt like I was betraying everyone, and it pained me deeply.

Pan then with no words walked closer to me, and grabbed my arm pulling me towards him. He had me facing back towards him, while he once again had me at a knife point.

"What a brilliant idea, love. Now play along." He whispered into my ear, making my heart skip a beat.

He teleported us to where I was sleeping before, just to cause a big scene. "Start struggling." He whispered into my ear again, as I yelled out for help: "H-hey! Let go of me!!!" "Klara!?" Emma, snow and charming shouted. "Let go of her!" Emma threatened. "Oh, but I'm afraid I can't do that, you see, I want her!" My eyes widened at the words pan said. "And if you want her back, you'll just have to get her back, but I highly doubt it, since you do care for Henry more." He continued. 'This isn't right.' I thought to myself as I regretted my decisions.

I was about to blur out the truth, when he knew what my intentions were, he covered my mouth with his hand, I struggled against his grip, but it was no use.

"Fine, what do you want pan!" Emma shouted. "Oh, you'll just have to find out when you find her!" Pan shouted back as, he threw her another map, I'm guessing its something similar to the map we got earlier to help us find Henry. "This map will not only help you find Henry, but it'll also help you find klara. Now tick tock, times running out!" He said as he once again teleported us away.

When we got to his thinking tree, he threw me against it, so I'd get mangled in its vines. "You think you were gonna get out of this, turns out that I was really kidnapping you. What a cliche." He said to me threateningly. "Now wouldn't this have been better if you would have just played along?" He asked in a deep voice. "I'm not just gonna sit around and do nothing while Henry's life is in danger!" I replied with full of anger.

Pan then slapped me so hard over the face, that my neck hurt from the fast and hard head turn, I felt a numb but tingling sensation in my cheeks, as I felt a tear stream down my face.

He stepped even closer to me to whispered in my ear: "No one... uses that tone against me." He then leaned back, and saw the tear on my cheek, as he decided to whip it with his tumb.

I saw no emotion in his eyes, and the thought if him possibly being a sycophant, made a shiver go down my spine.

We once again started into each other's eyes for a while, before pan pulled away, and teleported himself away, as I stood there in pure awkward silence.

Peter pan's POV.:

I got back to my tree house, as I barged in through the door. I sat on the edge of my bed, holding my head in distress. "What am I doing!? Why do I feel this way!?" I was mad at myself. 'I can't possibly be having feelings for this girl?' I thought to myself. "UGH!!!" I groaned, as I threw a pillow hard at a wall. "I can't fall in love! I cant stoop that low! I'm better then those heroes!" I shouted as I stood up and walked to the bathroom where I leaned over the sink and washed up my face with water to snap myself to out of this dreamlike state, then I looked up at the mirror. I stared at myself in the mirror for a while before I once again spoke. "Love is weakness." I whispered, reminding myself of the truth.

------

After much time has passed, I went to check in on how the hero's were doing and they've figured out the map and were on their way to save klara. So I decided to go check in on her one last time.

When I got to my thinking tree I heard singing. "Are you? Are you? Coming to the tree? They strung up a man. They say who murdered three. Strange things did happen here. No stranger would it be. If we met at midnight. In the hanging tree." Klara sang, as I listened for a while.

When all of a sudden the birds around us sang along. I stared in disbelief, just as much as klara was confused, she continued to sing at the birds whistles got louder. She really was something.

After a while the song came to an end, as the birds around us stopped in sync. "Awesome." Klara said excitedly, as she looked up at the trees around us with motive in her eyes. Then all of a sudden a noise came from a far. "Um... Hello!?" Klara called out. "Klara? Klara is that you!?" Emma called back. "Guys I'm over here!!!" Klara shouted.

They ran out of the bushes, revealing themselves to klara. Which meant that this was my que.

Klara's POV.:

I saw everyone pop out of the bushes, but before any of us could say anything we were interrupted. "Good job Emma, you did it. But right now is not the time for victories, I'd say you have to get klara out of her trap." Pan says, I already knew what he was talking about, but the rest of the group didn't. I hung my head down in defeat, I knew what I needed to do.

"That's the least of our problems! All we need to do is get her out of those vines." Regina said as she got closer to me trying to free me of the vines, by trying to cut it down, but all that did was squeeze me even tighter. "R-Regina! N-no! S-STOP!" I screamed and groaned in pain. As I could bearly breed at this point. "Regina! Stop! You're making it worst!" Emma shouted as she pulled Regina away.

The vines let go of its grip a bit, but still not enough, I was in a very uncomfortable position. And could bearly breathe, I felt like I was going to lose consciousness. I could care less when it came to dying, but I couldnt die on Henry and everyone now, they wasted their time to save me, when they could damn well have save Henry.

"I'm sorry." I said as I looked at the ground, while trying to hold in my tears. "Sorry? Sorry for what klara?" Emma asked confused. "For klara to get free she has to say what her biggest burden is, what's keeping her stuck to that tree." Pan answered in my place.

I can feel everyone's eyes shift to me. "What did you do!?" I heard Regina's voice turn deeper. I choked on my own words as regina impatiently ran up to me, chocking me with one of her hands. I try to gasp for air, when once again I got saved by emma, snow and charming. "Let her talk!" Snow growls at Regina.

Before we waisted any more time I barged out: "I helped pan distract you!!!" I cried out. "I'm sorry! If I wouldn't have done that, Henry would have been in more danger." I sobbed through tears. I was scared of what everyone was going to think of me, that I didn't dare to look up.

"Are you telling me that, that little tantrum you pulled off was to distract us of our plan! Of us saving Henry!!!!" I never heard Regina's scream like this before, so naturally I winced at her loud, deep, angry voice. She sounded like she could kill me with only her harsh words.

Hook and charming held her back, so she wouldn't end me right there on the spot. "That isn't the only thing?" Snow spoke up, and i looked up at her as the rest stopped what they were doing. "There's more." She said simply as I thought deeply what it could be, but all I could think of in the moment was... I looked in pans direction as I spoke with all the hatred in me: "I regret ever meeting you."

My whole body shook from the anger I felt, as the vines let go of my body, my legs became weak and I fell to the ground. It seemed that my legs feel asleep or were numb from the pressure I was put on by the vines earlier or it must have been from standing still upwards for the whole day. Then all of a sudden I felt lightheaded and passed out.

Peter pans POV.:

"I regret ever meeting you." Klara said with all the anger through her gritted teeth. My heart sank, it hurt me deeply. 'I've fallen for a girl that hates my guts.' I thought to myself as I tried to act normal.

Klara was let go by the vines, so it meant that whatever she said was true, my heart stopped for a moment. Until a saw klara collapse to the floor, her body limp from the pressure of the vines, she passed out.

I watched as hook went to pick her up. I wanted to shout at him to not touch her, but I couldnt possibly let them know how I felt about her.

I was jealous, furious! I watched as hook walked away with klara in his hands, while the rest followed. "I hope you're proud of what you've done." Snow said to me before rejoining the group. I stood there in silence, feeling full of... REGRET.

To be continued...

[paladin-andric]

Blackheart, Chapter 31: A Final Respite

It had been quite some time. Deep in the heart of the Citadel, things had changed considerably.

A while ago, the survivors had evacuated to the countryside. Before they did so, Basilrin was sent to bring word of the situation to the surrounding lands, in hopes of summoning the forces needed to push to the Blackheart.

The portal was said to be in the very center of the city. To get there, all they needed to do was take the main road. Only problem was the demons. Their corrupted thralls swarmed the main streets en-masse. It was why they had spent their time creeping down alleyways and side streets.

Soon...soon, the time for skulking would come to an end. Soon, the army would begin their assault.

Alexander ran the blade of his sword over a whetstone, looking it over carefully. He had forgone wearing his armor, seeing as it had been a few days since Basilrin’s return.

It was quite the wonder, seeing not only his return, but the arrival of the Lady Protector herself, Gira. The Black Dragon, as she was called, arguably the most important figure in all of Geralthin. She had been there for the entirety of its history, after all.

She and Basilrin had assured them that the army was indeed on its way. Already a few of those towns and villages nearby had arrived, a few guards and citizens armed with the bare essentials now joining them in the Citadel.

It was a good start, but they had to await the mass of royal forces before they could dare start their push.

Gira was another one. Now they had three dragons. That was three beasts of legend to rain destruction on their foes. Alexander could only imagine how marvelous that kind of support would be for the army.

All in all, things were looking quite hopeful. With a force like this assembled, pushing through the city really seemed more than a mere pipe dream.

All they had to do was cause a gap, if only for a moment, in the demons’ defenses. Then Alexander could slip through, enter the Blackheart, and destroy whatever artifact was anchoring the portal to their world.

“Hey.”

The knight turned to see Wurie walking up to him. The wolfman took a seat on the ground beside the knight, flashing him a nervous smile.

“Hey captain. What’s the matter?”

Wurie looked off into the distance as Alexander continued sharpening his blade. “I just...can hardly believe it, you know? That we’re so close.”

“It won’t be long now,” the knight answered.

“It’s been quite the journey.”

Alexander smiled. “Yeah. I think we’ve all learned things from this.”

“Really? I feel like you’ve been the one teaching ME here, sir knight!”

The man shook his head and sighed. “You should know better than that, Wurie.”

The wolfman frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Captain, when I first came here...I must admit that I didn’t feel the same way about you and the others then I do now.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Well...I was raised surrounded by other humans. Not once had I even laid eyes upon another species, aside from Stilich, the doctor.”

“Stilich?”

“One of the shellbacks,” Alexander admitted, “Father hired him to take care of us...but that was the extent of my knowledge. He was one of a kind as far as I was concerned. When I joined the army, I was deployed at the northern border. There, was my first experience with the wolves...with your people, Wurie.”

The captain grimaced. “Not, uh...not a good impression,” he whispered, his voice reflecting pain.

“That’s an understatement. I thought your people were animals, barbarians, monsters...I had a similar view for many of the peoples of Geralthin. In truth, the edict didn’t rattle me as much as it probably should have...it meeting Sigvin to change my mind about a “universal evil”. Even then I thought he was the exception, but now...I see I was quite mistaken.”

“Sigvin?” Wurie’s brows furrowed. “Alexander, you said...Sigvin?”

“Yeah. We commissioned him as pathfinder, during one of our expeditions into tribal territory. We chatted at the camp. Told me all sorts of stories about him and his people. Really helped me understand the wolfmen more than I did.”

Wurie’s eyes were a near sliver now.

“What? What’s with that funny look?”

“Alexander...was...was Sigvin a bard?”

The knight was caught off guard by that one. “He...mentioned he wanted to become one...how on earth did you know that? Wurie, have you met him?”

The captain gave Alexander a serious look. “...follow me.”

He paused only to put his whetstone away and sheathe his sword before he hurried after Wurie. The implications behind this left only one possibility…

Turning past another group of tents, Wurie called out to a figure facing a firepit. “Sigvin!”

The person turned around, sitting on a small wooden stump. In a rather puffy, fanciful striped and dyed suit, was a familiar face. Sure, the clothes, quilled hat, and lute was a far cry to the rags he was wearing all those years ago, but Alexander recognized him all the same.

“Sigvin...you’ve got a friend here.”

The unarmored knight stepped forward, eyes widening. It wasn’t just a shared name. It was him. It was really him.

“Sigvin…?”

The wolfman bard frowned. “Err, I’m sorry. You might be…?”

“It’s me, remember?! It’s Alexander! From the war up north? The Pureclaws!”

The bard’s face scrunched up as he tried to recall those memories. In a moment, his eyes shot open. “A-Alexander?!”

“Yeah! It’s me!”

The wolfman jumped up excitedly and put his lute down. “Hoo boy...Alexander! How have you been, friend?!”

The knight laughed as Sigvin grabbed and shook his hand wildly. “Ah, you know! Pretty busy. How the hell did you end up all the way down here?!”

“I TOLD you I was gonna move to Geralthin! I even went to college! All was going according to plan when, uh...this all happened.”

“Right...you were kicked off with the rest of the exiled.”

“Mmhm. I must say, I saw you here before, but I never imagined the man under the armor would be you!”

Alexander shrugged. “Well, here I am regardless! God I can’t believe we’ve been so close all this time!”

“I’ve been...unable to be of much help,” Sigvin admitted with a sheepish smile. “I, uh...I’ve been hiding back here. Thinking, mostly.”

“Well, why didn’t you leave with the other citizens?”

“Because he wants to help!” Wurie said with a grin, “Isn’t that right, Sigvin?”

“Yessir!”

The knight tapped his foot, looking worried. “Ah, but...what are you planning on doing, than? Not joining the front line, I’d hope!”

“Oh goodness no. I’ve never been a warrior, you know that! I AM a bard, though. My music does more than you might expect. I hope to rally and inspire the real warriors when we attack!”

“You really have become what you’ve always wanted, huh?”

“That’s right!” Sigvin said with a grin, “My dreams are...well, they WERE coming true...but hopefully! Hopefully, after all this, I can finally get back on track!”

Wurie nodded. “You will. We’ll see to that, won’t we, Alexander!”

“Yes...we will. I must say Wurie, it’s good to see you looking up like this. You, uh...weren’t in high spirits, the last few times we spoke.”

“What can you do?” the captain asked with a shrug. “I’ve been seeing and hearing some awful things. It takes its toll, but...it’s almost over. We’re so close. If there’s a time to believe, it’s right now.”

Alexander smiled. Despite everything, even the most mournful seemed full of hope now.

“Hope is a powerful thing to have. We’ll see this through Wurie, I swear.”

The trio sat around the firepit, Alexander looking back at Sigvin. “So...got any songs planned for all of this?”

The bard smiled. “Ah, well I’ve got a few popular tunes, but generally I let the music take me where it goes.” His smile quickly turned into a frown. “I do have...one song in the works though. An...ode to your friend, Alexander. The red dragon. Hopefully, my song will travel across the land once this is over, and all will sing of his sacrifice. I figured such an individual deserves nothing less.”

Alexander’s face scrunched up. “Ah. I see...I’m sure he’d be proud.”

Sigvin nodded sadly. “Yeah. I think he would.”

…

“Hey…”

The holy man didn’t look up as he continued reflecting over the words of the scripture. “Yes?”

“I, uh...I’m going to go with them, you know!”

Andric frowned. The paladin opened his eyes and turned his gaze to Senci, visage firm.

“I would strongly advise against that.”

The kobold looked hurt by that. “Oh, come on, master! They’re counting on me to help them!”

“And I’m counting on you to make it through this in one piece.”

“I’ll make it through just fine! I can do it, you know I can! I was trained by the best, after all.”

“Senci…”

“I’ve make it this far, haven’t I?!”

Andric turned around, shifting from kneeling into a sitting position. The pair were inside a tent, taking stock of their inventory and preparing for the final battle.

“I just don’t want anything to happen. I heard about your little stint in the medical tent, you know.”

“But master-”

“What if that happens again?”

“Master Andric…”

“You nearly died, Senci! I cannot abide by this! If I were to let you leave my sight, you could-”

Something snapped inside of Senci, if only for a moment. For the first time since he could remember, he snapped at his mentor.

“I’m not a damned child anymore!”

Andric’s brows raised at the kobold’s shrill yell. He couldn’t remember the man ever being stricken silent like this, but these were exceptional circumstances.

The young warrior felt immense shame and regret almost immediately. He could feel the heat well up in his face and fear creep over him as he looked at his stunned father figure.

“I...I’m sorry…”

The paladin grimaced as he looked the other warrior over. The small lizard shifted uncomfortably, head lowered and eyes full of guilt. Like he was about to be lectured.

Andric sighed. “It’s...fine. I understand. I know this is important to you. I just...I came all this way to make sure you were alright, you know? If something happened, I…”

The man’s lips pursed. “...I don’t know what I’d do. Over a decade, Senci. For twelve years, I’ve been making sure you were okay. For twelve years, schooling and training you...”

“I...I know,” Senci said quietly, “B-but, master...you...you have to let me try! I’m a grown up now!”

Andric shot the kobold a guilty grin and scratched his beard. “Well, actually, you’re still a year away from being an adult at the moment…”

“T-that’s close enough!” Senci insisted. “Listen...I...I’m thankful for everything, really, I am. I’m so lucky I have you to train me...but eventually, you have to put that training to the test! Master...you must let me loose on our enemies! You’ve prepared me for this moment, and I must follow through now! I can’t be useless in this battle, I can’t let everyone down! I HAVE to help!”

Andric frowned and closed his eyes, reflecting on the kobold’s words. Eventually, he opened his eyes and moved forward, wrapping his arms around the young warrior.

“Senci...I know. I know I can’t stop you from doing this...and I understand how much this means to you. You can go.”

Smiling with wide eyes, Senci returned the hug, Andric patting him on the shoulder.

“I won’t let you down. I promise.”

“The only way you could do that, Senci, is if you didn’t come back...so make sure you do, alright?”

Senci grinned wide. “Yes sir!”

…

Razorwing pulled back on his bow, getting a feel for the tension. He sat on the ground beside the tent he had been staying in, his supplies laid out around him.

After this brief test of his bowstring, it seemed like all was in order. He had brought a few extra with him just in case it snapped, but there didn’t seem to be many issues. He’d been using this one for about a year, but he was very fussy about maintenance, so everything still worked as intended.

“Is that the great hero Razorwing, playing around with an unloaded bow?”

The bird turned his head towards the source. Of course, there was no mistaking that voice, despite the additional cheer it seemed to be carrying today.

“You work with crossbows. You know full well the need to test and maintain.”

The human sat down beside him. Despite the mask, his eyes made his amusement clear.

“Obviously. I’m messing with you, dope.”

The koutu shot him a cocky grin. “You sure? You know, if you don’t know about weapon upkeep, I could teach you.”

“Yeah yeah, alright, ya dumb bird.” A light punch to the shoulder made the hero chuckle.

Paul took out one of his own crossbows and looked it over. It was a fair bit smaller than the ones the armies used, seeing as this was made with the ability to hold and fire with one hand. Still, it had enough force behind it, and the bolts were large enough to still be deadly. The downside was that without the heft of the larger models, punching through armor proved...problematic.

Not that this was generally a problem for Paul. As a bounty hunter, he generally worked to end combat before it began. He’d become a good enough shot and a quiet enough sneak to hit targets in their weak spots, while they were unexpecting.

“Hard to believe it’s almost over huh?” the human mused.

“Yes...quite remarkable. We’ve come quite a far way, we have.” Razorwing put his bow down and grabbed his quiver, beginning to examine his arrows.

“It’s been rough. The close scrapes, the demons...listening to you blabber on about nonsense,” Paul said with a laugh.

“Oh? You got pretty mad when I stopped ‘blabbering’ though, didn’t you?”

The bounty hunter looked away as the koutu grinned like mad. “Well...you know how it is...the silence in this hellhole is maddening. Any voice is a relief...no matter how dumb what they’re saying is.”

The archer raised a brow. “Oh ho! I see! So what you’re saying is I’m just a voice to you, huh? Just a distraction? Just something any other person could have been?”

“T-that’s not what I meant!”

The hero put a winged arm around the human’s shoulders. Shooting him a grin, he leaned in. “Don’t worry! I’m just...what was it you said? ‘Messing with you, dope’?”

Paul groaned, which drew another laugh from Razorwing.

“Seriously, though. You and I, friend...we’ll go far, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean by that?” with the birdman’s wing still wrapped around him, he looked over questioningly.

“You remember how well we worked in the streets. How long we spent without the luxury of a team, or any support. Just the two of us, against the demons. The scouting we did for each other...we make a perfect duo, don’t you think?”

Paul looked away, sighing. “We, uh...you’re right, but...I don’t know.”

“Aw, come on, pal! No one can beat a team like us!”

“I know,” Paul admitted, “We make an excellent team. Still...I don’t know if I’ll...be doing this in the future.”

Razorwing frowned. “Huh? What’s...what’s that mean?”

“Look. You’re a famous hero. You fight monsters, and lead parades, and have songs sung of you...and I’m a shadow. No one besides you knows my identity. I stalk the shadows. I slit the throats of thieves and killers. I hide from the fame that comes with the work I do. I’ve built a reputation as an ender of lives...despite no one knowing who I am.”

The hero gave him a funny look. “You’re saying we’re incompatible?”

“Well, that’s one part of it-”

He was cut short by Razorwing squeezing him, tightening his arm’s grip around the man.

“Come on, Crux! We’ve been through enough to know that’s nonsense!”

Paul’s eyes narrowed. “Argh. You wanna let me breathe, bird?”

“Very well.” Razorwing let go of him, the pair sitting beside one another once more.

“Hah. Well, besides that...I have an identity to keep concealed. We were able to do that AND work together because, well...we’re in a fog-covered city cut off from the outside world. If we started working together once this is over...I fear your renown, and the attention you draw would...make my secret impossible to keep.”

It seemed to finally dawn on the hero, now. His gaze softened, turning into a saddened, wincing visage.

“Ah. I...I see. You...we can’t...be friends anymore.”

There was a lengthy, uncomfortable pause. Both of them had their heads down, unable to look the other in the eye.

Paul’s voice caught Razorwing off guard.

“You know...you’re the only friend I’ve ever had.”

The archer blinked, eye widening. “Paul…?”

“I, uh...I made an effort to keep my distance from everyone...just so something like this wouldn’t happen.”

The human looked over at Razorwing. The koutu’s head hung low, looking defeated.

“I...there must be something we can do…”

Paul crossed his arms, his weapons checking long forgotten. “Is there...some place you go to all the time? I don’t know if I could leave a paper trail to keep in touch, but if we happened to be around the same places…”

Razorwing smirked. “I’m all over the place. The parades and plays and, well, you know.”

“Of course.”

“Well, my estate’s always open to you. Hey, maybe you could come over sometime and meet Eignach!” “Eignach…?”

The koutu looked surprised. “Oh, I didn’t tell you? We’re...together.” There was a short pause before Razorwing continued hurriedly. “Err, that’s uh, why I wanted to tell you, by the way, that I’m spoken for. I didn’t mean to...hit on you. I-I don’t drink, so, uhh...I wasn’t thinking clearly. My apologies.”

“Don’t worry about it...lightweight.” Paul was grinning. The way the fabric around his mouth was stretching gave it away.

“Well EXCUSE me for practicing a bit of clean living!” the hero laughed and shook his head. “Well, at any rate, we’ve been together for...not too long. We were just friends at first. Poor fellow was expelled from the kingdom during the exile. He grew up in Geralthin. He may be one of my people in body, but culturally, he was a human. Our homeland was alien and frightening to him. I took him in, seeing as he lost his home and...the rest is history.”

“A bird frightened of his own flock…” Paul pulled out his dagger and inspected it for any nicks and scratches.

“I suppose! He’s adapted well, though. You know he was a fan of mine? He was absolutely starstruck when we met. Even fainted and everything!”

“Everyone has a hero to look up to, I guess. You happened to be his.”

“That’s right.”

Razorwing turned to look at the human, still running his hand along his dagger.

“Hey, Paul?”

“Yeah?”

There was a brief moment of hesitation. “Whatever happens out there...we’re a team, alright? I’ve got your back.”

Paul lowered his dagger, turning to look at the archer. His eyes ran over the other man, taking him in.

“And I’ve got yours.” He held a gloved hand out to the koutu, who took it without hesitation. The pair shook.

“Domnall...it’s been a pleasure. Let’s cast these beasts back to the deepest pits of hell.”

Razorwing radiated confidence as he sat up straight. “Hah! The armies of hell themselves will learn to fear our names!”

Paul nodded, a smirk etched in his mask. “That’s what I like to hear. Let’s you and I give em’ something to call hell...bird.”

…

“Looks like everything’s ready.”

“Just about.”

The man and woman were sitting inside a small tent, just the two of them and their supplies. The man was sitting idle, while the woman was chewing on a piece of jerky. He looked at her with a near unreadable expression.

“Hungry?” she asked in between bites. He shook his head.

“Not a fan of jerky?”

He shook his head again. “I don’t care what I eat, Leianna. I’m just not hungry right now.”

The cleric shrugged, still chewing. “Suit yourself.” Taking another bite, she looked off to the side in thought. “Man, all they’ve got left around here is cheese and jerky.”

“Not much else can last months without spoiling,” Lexius noted.

“Hey, I’m not complaining. Food’s food, and cheese and jerky are damn fine.”

Lexius sighed. The priest looked sullen and out of it. Leianna noticed this, and gave him a questioning look.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just...I wish I could have...been of more use.”

“How so?”

The man held his hands out. “I...I was poor support on the field. I’m an awful combatant. I spent half my time here bedridden. I failed to come prepared. I...I even...Leianna, if I had been with you when we split into two groups...perhaps Basilrin’s brother and Tourthun would be-”

“Hey. Monk boy.” Leianna gave him a firm glare, as if chastising him. “Listen to me, you fool. You came here of your own volition. You waltzed into a hellhole full of the darkest beings the world can offer with scrappy armor, a chipped iron blade and a tiny wooden shield. You never trained for combat. You healed a goddamned DRAGON, Lexius.”

He was about to respond, but Leianna put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. “You kicked ass out here. No one expected some guy from a church to make it this far, but here you are.”

The priest lowered his head and laughed. Leianna raised a brow. “Err...Lexius?”

“Heh...yeah, I guess you’re right. No use in feeling sorry for myself. I did what I could. That’s...all you can really do.”

“Hey, that’s the spirit!” Leianna grinned and patted him on the shoulder. “Look, I’ve got plenty of things I wish I’d done differently too, but there’s no turning back the clock. You live with what you do, and you do the best you can.”

Lexius looked up at the cleric hopefully. “Sister Leianna...could you join me in prayer?”

The woman shrugged. “I don’t see why not.” She shoved the rest of the jerky in her mouth, chewing loudly as she rushed to finish her meal.

Lexius took out his cross, from under his armor. The small, wooden symbol appeared hand-carved by him, if its quality was any indication.

Leianna wiped her mouth and took out her own, pulling it from a pouch. The handheld crosses were more good luck charms than anything, not blessed or magical in any way. It was a simple reminder of God, carried on each church member’s person to serve as a constant source of hope and faith.

Lexius bowed his head, cross clutched underneath his hand and held onto by both hands. Leianna followed the gesture.

“Through God and the intercession of Saint Martin, we stand firm against the work of the enemy,” Lexius said, his voice low and clear.

“We thought we may have died and been sent to the underworld for our transgressions, for we are surrounded by grinning faces of demons,” Leianna continued. The pair continued to alternate between each line.

“Even in death, even in the underworld, despite our true odds, we will never waver. Such is the burden of the faithful.”

Lexius’ eyes were squeezed tight as he brought the prayer to a close. “Guide us now, for we do the bidding of the Lord, our God. Allow us to fulfill our duty, no matter the cost. No matter the cost…”

“Amen.”

Despite having reached the end, Lexius did not rise as Leianna had.

“No matter the cost…”

The cleric looked at the priest with a notable degree of concern. “Lexius…?”

“No matter the cost…”

…

“This catastrophe was man-made! I’ve seen it for myself!” Charles stood among a group of humans, the first few militiamen who had answered the call. Several of them, in their light uniforms of cloth and wielding simple weapons, leered at him in disdain.

Though Alexander and the others had been through enough with the magician to trust him, but as he had always been told, the common folk saw him as little more than a monstrous chimera.

“What the hell do you know?!” one of the levies shouted, eliciting cries of agreement throughout the crowd.

“I recovered documents from the college! One of the wizards said himself that he did it!”

“Oh yeah?! Where’s your proof?”

Charles frowned. “I gave them to my friend, the professor. He left with the rest of the citizens in the evacuation.”

“How awfully convenient,” one of the men mused. A few voice called out in agreement once more.

“Whatever!” the dragonoid cried, throwing his hands up, “I don’t care if you believe me or not! The truth will come out on its own!”

“Yeah right. I bet YOU did it!”

“M-me?!” Charles reeled back, “Why would I do that?!”

“It’s in your blood!” Cheers erupted through the crowd at those words, the magician clutching at his shoulders defensively.

“T-that’s not true. I make my own path...my origins do not determine my future…”

“Yeah, right! Say, if you’re one of them...I wonder if you’ve got any secrets you’re hiding…?”

A few men stepped forward, their stances clearly hostile. Their eyes glinted with malicious intent, and their grin were anything but friendly.

“W-what’s this?!” Charles shouted, shaken. He backed up, nervous about where this was going.

“Why are you wearing that?” one of the men asked, reaching out for his wizard hat. Though he grabbed it, Charles threw his arm away, clutching onto the hat possessively.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t touch my things! They aren’t yours!”

The man smirked. “Are you hiding something under there, beast?”

Their approach quickened, even as the dragonoid began backpedaling.

“L-leave me alone! Stop it!”

“Show us what you’re hiding!” Several shouts rang out through the Citadel. Some from the mob of soldiers, some from citizens around the camp that saw what was happening.

Charles, focused on the approaching men, failed to notice a rock behind him. His foot slipped as he tripped over it, falling to the ground on his back. He sat up, and just as it looked like the mob was about to descend on him…

“That’s ENOUGH!”

Blinking, the fallen dragonoid looked over to the source of the bellowing voice. Sure enough, the knight was stomping over, though not in his armor. Still, he had his sword on his hip, and looked suitably authoritative enough anyway. Behind him, a few others followed, most notably Wurie.

“Causing trouble, are we?”

The knight’s demeanor seemed to shake the mob of levies out of it, many quickly backing away from Charles.

“W-we were just-”

“Harassing the people you were sent to help? Yeah, I noticed. What’s next? Gonna mug a few of the wolves? Attack the birds?”

“No,” a single voice answered meekly. The knight scowled at the group.

“Which one of you imbeciles is in command here?” He demanded. A lone soldier answered.

“Captain Howard, sir. He’s outside.”

Alexander stepped forward and grabbed the man by the neck, pulling him close. The others gasped, but didn’t interfere.

“Tell your captain to get his men under control,” he growled, voice dripping with venomous hostility, “NOW.”

“Y-yessir,” he squeaked, stumbling backwards as Alexander released him.

“Crawl on out of here, all of you. You’re not welcome.”

As the group turned to leave back through the sewers, the knight called out one last time.

“If I catch you attacking any more citizens, you’ll be hanging from his majesty’s gallows for treason!”

As the group fled, Alexander turned to Charles, still sitting on the ground. He quickly extended a hand. “You all right?”

“I-I think so.” the magician grabbed the man’s hand, letting himself be pulled to his feet with a grunt.

“Ah...thank you, Alexander.”

“Don’t worry about it. The nerve…!”

Charles smiled as he dusted himself off. “I’m thankful to have friends in such affluent stations…”

The knight grimaced. “I don’t like throwing my weight around, but in these situations I hardly have a choice.”

“What in the world was that?” Wurie asked, “They were like...common rabble! Like the thugs whose fights I had to break up back in the day!”

“That’s what happens with the army,” Alexander noted. He frowned as he looked over to the exit, hands on his hips.

“These aren’t elite soldiers of the king. These aren’t contractors or professionals. These are levies, militia and common folk. They don’t have the discipline a lifer has. Force them to stay on duty without an enemy to fight, and eventually they’ll starting picking their own fights.”

Wurie tilted his head. “Sounds like you’ve dealt with this before.”

“Comes with the territory. Command enough armies and you know the best and worst of it inside and out.”

“Still...unacceptable,” muttered Wurie. He looked deeply wounded by the proceedings.

“Captain? You okay?”

The wolfman shook his head. “It’s...nothing. Just remembering the exile.”

“Similar treatment?”

“Very.”

Alexander crossed his arms. “Things are going to change around here. I don’t know how, but they will.”

Wurie smiled despite himself. “I...appreciate the optimism. I would say I don’t believe it but...I already said that about you saving our people. I fear I’d be eating my words yet again if I said such a thing!”

The knight shrugged, a small smile at the corner of his lips. “Guess we’ll just have to see, huh? So how about…”

A shadow taking up the entire middle of the camp cause him to trail off. While the twilight wasn’t much, it was noticeable now that it was gone.

He barely had a moment to look up before a green dragon dropped down the hole and into the Citadel. Basilrin.

“They are here! The king’s men are here!”

There was a lengthy silence as the crowd looked at one another. A few citizens walked over at the dragon’s call, including the others that had been journeying together with Alexander all this time.

Looking back, the knight gave them a nod. At last, the end was here. Alexander closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“It’s time.”

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[slashingdisneypasta]

Teenage!Chucky x Fem!Reader || Oneshot

Title: There Are Worse Things You Could Do

Notes:

This is, of course, based loosely on the song from Grease that Rizzo sings, ‘There Are Worse Things I Could Do’. 

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang is a repressed childhood memory. I know I watched it multiple times, but I forgot everything. This is only barely relevant.

I’m obsessed with teenage!Slashers x Readers... I don't think I’ve written for normal adult Chucky, oops. 

Plot: 

You’re having an emotional night, when all the things build up and you just feel like crap. And on the top of the list? Why, what everyone else seems to think of you, of course! Its always the way.

Don’t worry though, your no-judgment friend comes to lay out the law. There are worse things you could be doing, babe.

And, theirs also romance brewing if you read the bonus part XD 

Warnings: Talk of slut shaming, sexual references, swears- a general PG rating though I think? Not worse then How I Met Your Mother I don't think, except it contains more swears. 

~~~   

“Hey, sexy legs. You’re usually in bed by now aren’t you?” Chucky’s voice calls through your open window and your phone, and you look over to see him there rather then at his home, talking to you on the phone. Your eyes widen from surprise, appropriately. As one would do when someone climbs through your window without warning.

“What are you doing here??” You get up quickly and close your bedroom door. Everyone else in the house is asleep, but you aren’t taking any chances, and lock it as well. You should be in bed, honestly. You’re in your pyjamas and everything -Oversized hoodie and undies, -. You know you would probably feel better about… the world in general, or more specifically yourself in this particular instance… if you did go to sleep for a while. You’re aware. You know this. But… no. Something in you says to just stay awake and suffer through it.

Its lovely.

You two sit down on your bed, getting comfy at the headboard beside each other as he explains, coarsely and shortly, that he doesn’t like talking on the phone. You don’t know why you’re comfortable with Chucky -he’s crude and reeks of bad decisions, -, but… eh. You started talking to him at the start of the year since he was the only other person in one of your new classes that didn’t have a friend there, and he stuck like a bad smell. You are pretty attached to it -him, - though, you guess. Gathering a pillow to your chest and raising your knees up to chin level, you chew the inside of your cheek instead of responding again. You don’t know what to say. He knows how you feel right now- maybe he’ll impart some wisdom onto you.

Peaking over at him and his frustratingly untaken care of hair, you roll your eyes. Yeah right. Chucky cant even take care of his, now, thicket of hair.

When he doesn’t say anything, just looks down the bed at your doona cover, you gather the courage to fish for an explanation. “Why are people so mad that I’m a-a... a… “Suddenly, the word ‘slut’ dies on your tongue as your heart makes a pained yelp about it. Usually, you don’t have a problem with the word. Why should you? Its’ just a word. But… but the looks you get from the people who say it, those hit a different hit a different way. And that’s what has messed you up tonight. Cold looks and disgusted mouths, like you’re a used rag… full of fucking STD’s, or something… Touching your lips instead to the pillow, you shake your head. “Why are they so mean?”

You’ve never hurt anyone. Any guy that you engage with is fully aware what’s happening; You never lead them on to think it’s anything more then just sex. And the last thing you would ever do is make someone uncomfortable- in fact, you probably do too much to avoid that possibility.

But people still… you don’t understand. You don’t understand. Why can’t you just do something you like? What do you have to do to make it okay??!

He rolls his head against the headboard to turn and face you. You don’t shy away from his dull, deadly serious gaze. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? People suck.”

“I, don’t suck.” You press your lips firmly together in a straight line. Even if you are feeling crappy, you wont sink into a puddle of self-despising gruel… even if that is, in fact, how you feel inside. Saying it would only make it real, and some things just don’t need to be made real. Fake it until you make it, cry-baby. You nod to him. “You don’t suck… “Then your lips quirk up a bit, to lighten the mood. “Much.”

“No, see, that’s why I hang out with you! So supportive and encouraging.” He forces a grin for your benefit, looking forward again but this time towards the ceiling. Why is he so down, you wonder?

You force a laugh from your chest. “Yeah.” Closing your eyes, enjoying a little bit the cold of the wood of the headboard against your cheek. “I just don’t understand- “

“Y/N.” The sternness and the steely annoyance in his voice suddenly, cause you to open your eyes and see what’s on his face- ah, it matches his voice. “The only thing you haveta’ understand, is that those people that talk about you because you fuck around, are worthless. Bitch,” You raise your eyebrows and widen your eyes at the name he just called you and he let’s out a dry laugh, looking amazed for a moment as he thinks about those people. Then, leaning into you and talking like he has all the wisdom in the world in his head, he assures you. “There are worse things you could be doing. Trust me.”

Letting out a deep breath and the tension, your roll your eyes and turn forward, thinking about that. Its true, you suppose.

Hugging the pillow tighter and scooching over to collapse into his side, suddenly wanting his affection as well as his words, and because you’re drained, you sigh. “Sorry, I don’t feel much better, but thank you for saying that.” It may have been put kind of crudely… or very crudely… but you’re aware that he meant well. So, you are grateful. Wordlessly, like its somehow the most natural thing in the world, like you’ve done this together before which you most certainly haven’t, Chucky situates himself to make you both more comfortable. Raising his arm so you can fit under it and resting it over your shoulders and shuffling to fit better against you. “You want to watch a movie with me?” Honestly, you just don’t want him skipping off just yet.

Its nice to connect this way with your friend.

You didn’t realise how nice it would feel to spend time like this with him. You would be very, very discontented if he left now.

“Yeah, but I’m picking which fucking one. Leave it up to you in this state, and you’ll put in freaken Sound of Music.”

A few minutes later, after Chucky has thoroughly looked through and critiqued, -and you use ‘critiqued’, very loosely. He mostly insults your five movies, - your small DVD stack and put something in, and returned to the bed and your position from before -even throwing the doona over you both, saying his legs are cold. Which, to that, you give him a slow nod. Yeah right. Sure, - Disney’s opening scene plays, with the castle and Tinkerbelle, and you suppress a snort. But you can’t hide the grin, or stop the words from coming out of your mouth. “’Sound of Music’s bad, but ‘101 Dalmatians’ is okay?” The less you think about your feelings before, the less relevant they seem when you look back two minutes in hindsight. You feel more and more your normal self.

“It was this or fucking ‘Chitty Chitty Bang Bang’, and that’s not happening. Your collection sucks.”

“My collection rocks, you dumbass.”

“Shush, its about to start, No talking during the movie.” His eyes are glued to the screen now, as the beginning credits roll. You grin, but scrunch up your nose too.

“Jesus Christ, you’re one of those? - “A wide, spiteful grin rips across his mouth.

“You betcha! Now shut up, theirs a punishment if you talk.”

Quickly, you turn to the TV. “Oh, jeez.” You shut up as he demanded, at the mention of a punishment.

OPTIONAL BONUS! The next morning- you had to see this coming

Waking up in the morning, you rub your eyes and look over to see Chucky’s blurry figure, still fully clothed from what you can tell including his jacket -hopefully not his boots, - you flash the sleeping boy a courtesy smile for how nice he was to you last night and move your stuff body slowly off the bed and out from under the covers. You imagine your stiffness if from staying in one position the whole freaken night- it was nice, but now your back and your arm are dying.

But… as you put up your hair in a quick ponytail and walk by the mirror, ready to get dressed and wait around for Chucky to wake up so you can see him off, you realise something is… missing, here. Looking down immediately, you realise what it is, and your eyes grow wider then ever before. Like, a full on ‘Oh-My-God-I-Didn’t-Even-Realise-Or-Remember!!’ face and you would have gasped loudly if you hadn’t thought quickly and pressed your lips hard together.

Your underwear. Your underwear is what is gone.

“Goddamnit Y/N, tell me you didn’t… “You whisper, panicking shortly as you pull on some clean ones, and then tip toe around the bed, looking for any sign that Chucky’s pants are anywhere but on him. When you don’t find it, you go ahead and pull up the blanket at the end of the bed and check -not pulling up high enough to see anything but his legs below the knee at first, -  that his legs are covered in the pants. You let out more and more of a relieved breath as he continues to be covered all the way up to his waist. If anyone were watching this, they would laugh like a hyena at your antiques and your expression.

But, even as you discover that he still had his bottom garments on, memories come right back to you from the night and you realise how doomed you are.

It happened. It sure did. You and Chucky Ray fucked last night. Oh god! Oh, dear god!

“I mean, thank God I had condoms in here at least?” You mutter to yourself, sinking down on the bed and covering your face in your hands in embarrassment. “Ugh… “

Also, you think as you remember the events, face still in your hands, it was really good. Not the point right now, but you did learn an important thing last night.

It sure ain’t about size- what they say is true. It really is about what you do with it.

Y/N goddamnit that is absolutely not the point here.

“Aghhh, I knowwww… “You whisper back to your own thoughts.

A minute later, Chucky wakes up and you peak over your shoulder at him when he sits up, as guilty as a child with jam on your hands. You don’t actually have any jam of course, but there certainly is a stain somewhere. And a certain sticky sensation still under your underwear. “… Hi Chucky. Do you… happen to remember… what happened last night?”

He but smirks at you.

You respond by deadpanning. Well, in that case, you’re not embarrassed anymore either. Getting up, you scratch the back of your head and move to goon with your day. Shower, first of course. “Okay, well if you’re done here I gotta take a shower and clean up what is probably a nasty mess,” You squint pointedly at him. “That you left, wherever you dropped the condom.” You can’t imagine Chucky was courteous and found a bin for it.

“Goodbye kiss?”

“Wh- “You look back at him from the bedroom door that you were about to leave out of, see him grinning and roll your eyes. Ah, joking. He’s joking. Funny man! Not that you would have kissed him it was a legit request… aha, not at all! You didn’t want that! … hahahaha… “You’re very funny.” Then your eyes widen, and you rush back to your dresser for your body lotion. “Oh! I forgot my- “Focusing on rifling through your dresser, you don’t really pay attention to what Chucky is up to. You do hear him get out of the bed, but you suspect he’s headed for the window. When you find the pretty purple bottle, you go to turn and waive bye to him but end up stuck in place.

He's behind you, and his hands are on your hips again. Keeping you in place this time as you hug your lotion bottle and look like a deer in headlights, vaguely sceptical about this, and find his eyes in the mirror. “… yes?”

“Y/N, I was serious about that goodbye kiss.” A wicked grin catches his eyes that sends a surprising, new feeling down from your heart to… let’s just say another place... “Unless you want me to join you in the shower.”

For a moment you just pause and take in the moment for what it is- very arousing and also the beginning of a wonderful new chapter in your friendship. Then you scoff and smack him gently with the purple lotion bottle. “My parents are awake now, are you crazy? Now go home, I’ll text you later.”

You turn around, as if you’re going to fly past him and out the door but he manages to press forward in time and stick you to the dresser, hands on your waist and knee between your legs now. With the golden morning light slipping through the still open window from last night that he had crawled through, in the perfect light of day and not the secret stars, like you’re actually a couple, Chucky gives you a kiss that you reciprocate all too eagerly. Its just as good as last night, maybe better.

“… Hey Y/N? I have a solution to your problem last night that I think you’ll like. By definition, a slut is a woman who has many fuckbuddies. I have a special onetime only proposition for you babe that’ll grind that number down to just one.”

[igniferrus]

Conventional Wisdom

Conventional wisdom states that you don’t make deals with demons.

Emlyn learnt this at age four, sitting porcelain doll still at Lord Alcott’s side during a society dinner. Four years had been enough to teach her many things, like how to walk silently, all the little nooks and crannies in the manor that can hide her treasures — or, in a pinch, Emlyn herself — and that being able to listen unnoticed to the Lord could provide invaluable information on his mood and intentions.

It was easier to go unnoticed as the dusk closed in and the men and women around her turned their attention from food to drink, alcohol loosening their tongues and dulling their senses. It was then, sitting among them and half hidden in the shadows untouched by the low burning candles, that tiny Emlyn first heard the warning: you don’t make deals with demons. She had been debating going to bed, unsure if leaving the room without dismissal or staying where she wasn’t welcome would beget more punishment, when a sudden hush fell, and the atmosphere changed from lighthearted banter to an unbearable tension. She tuned back into the conversation she’d been half-listening to.

“We don’t speak of such things, Jerome. To even mention one of those contracts is to invite an unwanted guest into this house. Lord Alcott will most likely have to hire a mage to ensure his safety,” hissed some duchess at the unfortunate speaker, who was now the focus of hostility.

The venom in her voice had intrigued Emlyn, who leaned forward in an effort to hear more of the conversation. This movement drew a squeak from the old chair she was seated on and brought all the attention to her.

A moment later, Lord Alcott was there, a tight smile on his face and a bruising grip on her arm, hauling Emlyn out of her chair and the room itself. He dragged her from the room, loudly proclaiming that he would return after putting his ward to bed. She went with him obediently, unafraid of her guardian in public places and unwilling to upset him in private.

That night, she sat alone in the dark, puzzling over the implications of her new knowledge. The next day found Emlyn sequestered in the library, trusting books, her only friends, to answer the questions she had. She only found the same words over and over again: you don’t make deals with demons.

*

Thoughts of demons are driven from Emlyn’s mind at age six. Like at four, she was small and thin for her age, but it was not enough to dampen the natural buoyancy of children. Emlyn bounced around the manor, dresses supplemented with the castoff trousers from the cook’s young son, as no one had been able to find a way to get her to stop climbing trees for good.

Emlyn was, however, wont to come inside when it started to rain. Not out of the desire to stay dry or even clean, or, as many assumed, the fear her weak body would fall ill again. Lord Alcott’s wrath at the extensive puddles even an undersized child could make while sopping wet put an end to any schemes that might take Emlyn out into the rain.

It was one such rainy day that she found it. With the ambient sounds of the weather as her backdrop, Emlyn wandered the hall of the manor, turning the problem of demonic contracts over in her mind. It had been a frequent topic for her to ponder over the last two years, and she returned to it again and again, for the simple reason that she could not figure out why the adults around her were so fearful.

From what she’d read, and the books were admittedly reticent with any information of substance, deals with demons could bring great boons, except the summoners had the nasty habit of dying. To the simple mind of a child, the answer seemed clear: plan ahead and you’ll be fine.

Her musings had distracted her from where her feet had taken her, and Emlyn ended up further in the southern wing of the manor than ever before. That specific wing belonged to Lord Alcott, and while it wasn’t forbidden for Emlyn to explore it, it was most certainly not encouraged. The tacit promise of pain or punishment was generally enough to keep Emlyn away.

Perhaps being forced to stay inside made her particularly impish, or maybe it was sheer boredom, but on that stormy day Emlyn decided to investigate Lord Alcott’s private wing. For the most part, it was the same as the rest of the manor — ornate but uncomfortable furniture and large portraits of Lord Alcott in every room.

Less than an hour after her exploration started, Emlyn grew disinterested. She was about to give up and return to the main section of the manor, when a tiny door shrouded in shadows caught her eye. Curiosity piqued, she crept closer, holding her breath in excitement. It seemed to be the entrance to some sort of vault, and it took much struggling for Emlyn to heave the heavy door open.

Upon opening it, her hopes were dashed. It was a small, cold storage room filled with paintings. Emlyn blew a piece of hair out of her eyes and made a face at the way the dust in the air swirled in response. It was a vanity vault, where her guardian stored all the self portraits he couldn’t hang on the walls. Just as she turned to haul the door shut, something caught her eye, as the light from the hallway illuminated one of the canvases. Blond hair.  

Emlyn froze for a minute, then began to silently laugh. These portraits had obviously been put away to avoid the shame of having grey hair in one’s late twenties. Shoulders still shaking with mirth, she approached the painting — really, Lord Alcott’s looked hadn’t suffered much, and if he were anyone else she might have called his long silver tresses handsome and — the boy in the painting had blue eyes.

Lord Alcott’s eyes were a dark brown, so the boy was clearly not him, and Emlyn was at a loss for his true identity. Further examination showed that the painting of were all of unfamiliar children, all at roughly twelve years of age. There was nothing similar between these children, except their stiff and formal pose and their chair. Despite finding nothing concrete to justify it, Emlyn’s stomach churned with dread.

Then she saw it. One of the painted girls’ white sleeve had been transparent enough at the time that the artist had captured the mark on the inside of her forearm, just below her elbow. It was a bruise blue circle with intersecting lines surrounding the star at its center. It matched Emlyn’s perfectly.

Lord Alcott had always told her it was magic — meant to help stop her mystery sickness in a way the doctors couldn’t. When she was particularly weak, he held her arm in both hands and ran his thumbs over it hungerly. She had always assumed it was because despite everything, he wanted her to get better.

Her face whitened in shock as she began to understand. The odds of Lord Alcott even knowing two girls with the same unknown disease were astronomical, much less gain custody of them both because — because she knew that wallpaper behind the other girl, she saw it everyday in the parlor. So even if the ages didn’t line up — the girl looked twelve, Lord Alcott wasn’t yet thirty, and Emlyn was six and had never heard of her — the girl had lived in this house. And there were thousands more portraits.  

Confused and uncertain, Emlyn backed out of the vault until her back hit one of the decorative tables in the hall and a vase shattered on the ground. This loud noise startled Emlyn out of her trance and made her jump. Breathless, she glanced about, pounding heart shuttering to a halt when she saw the stony visage of Lord Alcott.

“You were always one of the most inquisitive ones,” he said with a sigh as a hand reached out to grab onto one of her pigtails and yanked Emlyn closer. She tamped down on the instinctive whimper of pain, as it would do no good to have Lord Alcott hear it. It never brought relief and sometimes made him angrier.

He knelt, looped an arm around her waist and drew Emlyn close to his chest in a way that would be comforting if she trusted him. The furious expression on his face made Emlyn want to cringe away from him, but not even terror could quell her inquisitive nature.

“It’s killing me, isn’t it?” she asked softly, fingering the sigil on her arm.

“Yes,” he answered slowly, “but your essence is keeping me alive, and isn’t that a great honour?”

Emlyn shook her head wildly, a frightened whine escaping from her throat. She pushed against Lord Alcott’s chest, trying to loosen his hold.

“You — you’re my guardian, you’re supposed to protect me! Someone will stop you!” she wailed in childish distress. Her flailing ceased when Lord Alcott grabbed her jaw, tightening his grip until it hurt.

“You are only one among thousands of my batteries. I have lived many lives and haven’t been caught yet.” Lord Alcott let go off her chin and brushed a stray lock of hair back with a false, cold smile. “My batteries rarely live past twenty, little one, so I suggest you keep me happy if you want the rest of your short life to be pleasant.”

Quick as a flash, Lord Alcott scooped up of the vase shards and brought it down from eyebrow to cheek. Emlyn stood frozen in the cage of his arms for a second, until the blood began to gush down the left side of her face, then she gave out a choked cry.

“Remember your place,” Lord Alcott’s deep voice came from somewhere above her. She paid no attention to his leaving, nor his shouts for help — shouts that his precious, sickly, girl had tripped into a vase while running in the halls — as she sank to her knees from the pain. In the wake of the startling revelation and the agony, everything else seemed to fade away.

*

It was not until age nine that the warning and its associated questions were brought back to her attention. She had been climbing on the bookcases in the library in an attempt to see the higher shelves. This quest for new reading material bore fruit, and Emlyn leapt down with an — outdated, if the condition and age of the cover was anything to go by — encyclopedia of demonology.

Shortly after, she was confined to her bedroom, excused from daily life under the usual pretense of being a sickly child, though she really was quite well apart from the contusions and sprained wrist. Unwilling to risk more of Lord Alcott’s ire, Emlyn resigned herself to boredom until she remembered the old tome stashed under her bed. The weeks passed by in a blur of miniscule script and burgeoning ideas, and before she knew it, Emlyn was free to move about the manor again — and gather supplies.

The process was tedious and time consuming. It took months for Emlyn to gather the supplies, as she was forced to steal it in bits and pieces. Her light fingers were able to filch phoenix feathers, herbs, and even an ounce of silver without detection, among other ingredients. The chalk used to draw the sigil was easy enough to get, she just pocketed a stub when one of the labourers asked her to take their scraps to the garbage.

The night she chose to conduct her ritual was carefully chosen. Lord Alcott himself was one town over, paying tribute to someone higher on the social ladder than he; the various staff had taken advantage of this and drank during the early evening and slept soundly. Not a creature stirred as Emlyn crept downstairs, books and supplies cradled in her arms.

In the damp of the cellar, she drew the sigil so that it covered the entire floor. The intricate central circle provided the majority of the power, while the four peripheral circles stabilized the magic. With every ingredient in place, she lit dozens of candles placed strategically around the room, picked up the most worn of the books, and read aloud from the bookmarked page.

The effect was immediate. The flames around her took on an unearthly green glow and the already chilly air plummeted in temperature. In the distance, there was the distorted howl of some animal, clearly in pain. The outline of a twisted form faded in and uncurled, revealing a creature that seemed to be made of grey mist. Its features were largely indistinguishable, aside from the horse’s head.

The demon stared, and Emlyn had to concede she was most likely not the expected summoner. Even at nine, she was undersized, with the gauntness and pallor that were part and parcel of ill health. Her shoulder length black curls were pulled into pigtails with red ribbons, which, coupled with her oversized nightgown, gave the appearance of an even younger child. At odds with this image was the striking scar on her face, and defiant set of her mouth.

In the silence between them, Emlyn, unsure of proper demon summoning etiquette, stepped forward and offered her hand.

“Hello, esteemed one,” she began, having been raised to be the model of politeness, “I would like to read your grimoire, please.”

The horse head did not move, yet Emlyn both heard and felt the reply deep in her chest.

“Little one, we demons are not foolish enough to bring our grimoire into the realm of mortals,”

“I understand, esteemed one,” the answer had been expected. A demon’s grimoire was the sum of its knowledge of magic. Each demon had their own personal version, though some spells and enchantments were universal. They were jealously guarded, for they contained incredibly powerful magic, and had never been brought into the tangible world of humans; they were kept in the spirit realm inaccessible to most beings. Emlyn gripped her forearm tightly, the sigil seeming to burn her hand through her nightclothes. “However, I still wish to read it. I need the information it contains,”

The horse head loomed nearer, and the thick grey mist curled around the child, clutching at her possessively. “Are you offering to make a deal with me, little Emlyn Alcott?”

Emlyn shuttered at the use of her full name, but she was not ready to admit defeat.

“Yes,” her voice was naught more than a hoarse whisper. The foundations of the manor shook with the demon’s laughter.

“What can you offer me that I cannot obtain for myself?” demanded the demon, who obviously did not believe the waif could actually offer anything of value.

“A physical vessel in the human world,” replied Emlyn without hesitation.

The demon took a moment to ponder the child in front of it. Her posture was open, welcoming even, and held nothing defensive in it. Her expression was calm, and she stared directly ahead, neither shying away from the demon, nor challenging it. The demon could detect no deceit in Emlyn, and it decided that yes, she truly intended to exchange demonic possession for the chance to read its grimoire.

Emlyn’s lack of hesitation was mirrored in the demon. It noted with glee that the child was clearly a novice mage — if even that. She had used a truly impressive amount of reference books to achieve a summoning enchantment so weak the demon had originally come only to investigate how some fool had accidentally called on it. There was little chance she would be able to understand any of the concepts in its grimoire, so there would be no danger in allowing her to read it while the demon ran amok in her body. With a predator’s sharp smile on its horse face, the demon accepted Emlyn’s deal.

It felt like a violent tumble down the stairs. The sudden lose of sure footing, the feeling of falling head over heels, and the disorientation they caused were familiar, though it lacked the grounding sensation of finally hitting the ground and the pain that signified the ordeal was over.

It didn’t feel over. Emlyn felt like she was floating, it was a strange sense of weightlessness that jarred her senses and made her feel a little nauseous. More disconcerting was looking up and seeing how her own body grinned hellishly back at her, the demon’s telltale grey mist flowing gently from her eyes, mouth, and nose. Looking down, Emlyn noted distantly that she was, in fact, floating, her faded and incorporeal bare feet dangled half a foot above the floor.

With a wave of its — her — hand, the demon’s grimoire popped gently into being, on the same half-real plane of existence Emlyn inhabited. She reached for it and held it as tightly as two unreal things could hold each other. She tucked her legs up under her, and hovered there in an approximation of sitting, and eagerly inspected her prize.

Only when Emlyn first bit her lip in confusion did the demon feel confident enough to leave. It turned and took one step towards the door when it slammed face first into a containment field. It whirled on the girl, whose concentration was still fully on the tome in her hands.

“What is the meaning of this?” it shrieked in a mixture of its previous otherworldly voice and Emlyn’s own childish one.

“Anything with too high of a level of demonic energy cannot leave the containment field of the summoning circle. Surely you were aware of that?” responded Emlyn without looking up; she was trailing her finger down one of the last pages, too fast to actually be reading it.  

The demon snarled under its breath as it looked down and confirmed that the child’s feet were indeed firmly planted within the chalk outlines of the circle. For a moment it was lost in its own confusion. How could this be, when a summoning circle had to be activated from the outside? Then the rage returned as it remembered that the first thing Emlyn had done after she had seen the demon, after she was certain the summoning ritual was complete, was take a step forward.

It made the demon want to howl in a way the human body it now inhabited was incapable of. Its grand plan of causing mayhem, defeated before it even began. Now the child would have the privilege of reading a demon’s grimoire without paying a toll! Then, a malicious, self-satisfied smile curled the body’s mouth. The child could read if she wanted to because there was no way a novice, no matter how clever, would be able to comprehend the complex theories.

The demon’s sudden chuckle wrenched Emlyn’s attention from the grimoire to her possessed body. At her questioning look, the demon explained the reasoning for its mirth.

“We are at an impasse, child. I wish to be free of these constraints, and you will undoubtedly want to return to your own world. Only I have the power to return us to our original states, and I demand payment equal to my humiliation.”

“I could let you die,” Emlyn’s pronouncement effectively killed the demon’s laughter, its — her — face looking lost and confused. “You’re in a mortal body that can’t leave this area. It is already malnourished. How long do you think you have before you starve? It’s only in your interests to switch back, as I could happily read your grimoire for the rest of eternity.”

The demon screeched, head flung back and looking wild, with the grey mist still coiling around its face mingling with the blood trickling from its nose — the result of walking smashing into the containment field. While in the thralls of its fit, the demon failed to notice how Emlyn traced her finger in a pattern on the cover of the grimoire, murmuring something under her breath.

Without warning, the falling sensation ended. Emlyn’s head spun, in part from the pain of being thrust back into her body, but also because of the throbbing in her nose. With her unoccupied hand, she wiped the blood from her face while glaring furiously at the demon.

“That hurt,” she muttered, and stepped away from the clearly livid demon, hoping that her rudimentary containment field would not fail her at the most crucial moment.

“You will pay —” the demon cut itself off when it caught sight of what was in Emlyn’s hand. The grimoire’s cover glowed eerily, the pattern a simple bonding charm, and the lilac light implied the book had accepted its new master.

It lunged for her but was once again stopped by the containment field. The horse head tilted at an angle that suggested a broke neck as the demon considered its revenge. Unconcerned by its obvious frenzied attempts on her life, Emlyn cut her energy off from the summoning circle, and the sudden lack of fuel caused it to fizzle out and die. The demon faded as the candle light returned to its usual colour, cursing Emlyn’s name.

Tucking her prize securely under her arm, Emlyn quickly and efficiently cleaned up the evidence of that night’s work before she returned to bed for a few more hours of sleep, the grimoire under her pillow.

Since that fateful night, whenever Emlyn’s chores took her down to the cellar, she felt the dark presence she assumed were low level demons that were attracted to the site of a summoning. Using the grimoire, she decided on a few trinkets and treats she thought they’d like and began leaving them in the spots where the demons congregated.

After all, conventional wisdom states that if you make an enemy, it was best to make some friends too, and Emlyn wasn’t done making enemies yet.