#uhh hold on I should put trigger warnings maybe

[packet-of-staples]

Alright we’re in the home stretch!!

Day 111 - Messing around with panels. Theres more to this I just haven’t finished it

Day 112 - He grows a little every day!

Day 113 - You’re never fully dressed without a smile!

[teddy06writes]

With Ghastly Consequences

Part Two of A Dangerous Game

{I wasn’t going to do this till later but ThE IdEaS were flowing}

Requested by this anon: “I don’t mean to be a bother but if you could possible make a part 2 for the “a dangerous game” fic that you made? It was amazing!!”

and this one: “ Dude I need more poly Dream team with SBI family reader what if reader came back as a ghost but it’s like Ghostbur so she doesn’t remember everything?”

Sooo....

Dream x George x Sapnap x Reader + sleepy boys x sibling!reader

trigger warnings: yelling, swearing, mentioned character death (its you, you died in the last one)

premise: after your death, everything was hazy; this is an account of the events sparked by your ghostly return

(y/n/n)- your nickname

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You’d drifted, for a while, in a greyish abyss for a while, knowing that there was a choice to make. 

The void, though being of course, a void of nothingness, was peaceful, and gave you time to come to terms with what had happened, and come to the solution to the question. 

And as soon as that happened-

You were gone again. 

~~

“Philza!” 

The man froze over the brewing stand, the bottles in his hands beginning to tremble, “(y/n)?” 

“Dad!” You grinned as he turned around, looking dumbfounded, “I didn’t know you were coming here- when did you get in? Oh I can’t believe you finally came!” 

“D- Do you not remember?” His voice was low, shaking almost as much as his hands. 

“Course I remember- well I remember some stuff. Like you and Tommy and Techno and Home and- and Pogtopia- and Dream and George and Ni- Sapnap- oh- wait-” your voice dropped to a whisper, “You know how they were- y’know, my partners?”

Your father nodded. 

“Don’t tell Wil,” You said quickly, “He’ll get mad.” 

He nodded blankly again, still staring at you. 

“Well what's with you? Why’re you looking at me like that?” 

“Y- It’s just- your back. I- I was devastated- more than- when WIlbur- er- when you died. But n- but your back.” There was quiet relief in his voice. 

You nodded, “Course I’m back. Like you could get rid of me that easy.” 

Phil dropped the bottles onto the crafting bench, rushing forward in an attempt to embrace you. 

You shuddered as he passed through your spectral form, sadly mumbling, “Uh, yeah. I kinda pass through things now.” 

Phil smiled sadly, “Still, your back, come on, come on, lets go find Techno, he should still be around here.” 

You nodded, following him down that ladder, “That's what I wanted to ask, where is here? Why are you out in the arctic?” 

“Oh, uh, just to get away from everything, you know who Tech hates his governments.” Phil attempted a joke. 

“Oh, yeah- I wouldn’t want to be there with Shlatt either. Strange he didn’t just go back to pogtopia though.” 

Technoblade looked up from where he was sharpening his axe, at first his face reading confused, then guilty, the carefully blank, “Things have changed (y/n). People, change.”

“Like Wil? I rember Wil being mad about something- do you think- no it wouldn’t be that, I was careful.” 

Techno winced, glancing Phil’s direction, “Uhh, we- we don’t talk to Wilbur any more. Not- not since he- er- not since you died.” 

“That man is no son of mine.” Phil spat.

You looked at him confused, “What happened? Did you get in a fight?”

“It’s- not our place to tell you.” Techno said finally. 

“hmmm, okay! So what have you guys been up too?” 

~~

You hummed a tune, drifting down the prime path, headed towards L’manburg, toward home

Phil and Techno had warned you that things had changed since your death, but that didn’t deter you from going back.

Coming over the hill, you looked over your beautiful country, the walls, which you knew were gone, seemed to be partially rebuilt, and distantly you could see Fundy over seeing construction.

At first glance everything seemed fine, but as you got closer the atmosphere seemed to change, a sort of anxiety hanging in the air over the city. 

Slowly you floated up to the platform your nephew was standing on, “Fundy! You’re rebuilding the walls!”

The fox jumped, “(y/n)?” 

“When Techno said things had changed I didn’t think he meant Shlatt was putting the walls back!” 

“(y/n)- your- your back?” 

“Course I’m back,” You chuckled, “You miss me fur ball?” 

“I- you- your back?” He repeated.

“Yeah, what’s going on round here? Why’d Shlatt have a change of heart- wait- did we win? Did I die and miss us winning? Is Wilbur putting the walls back-” 

“Wilbur isn’t here any more.” Fundy interrupted bitterly. 

Your brow furrowed, “Why is everyone mad at him?” 

“Come on, lets get you too Ranboo, Tommy and Tubbo, they’ll-” He sighed motioning for Jack Manifold to take his place, “Well they should tell you at least part of it.” 

He led you down off the platform, toward the podium that still stood in the center of L’manburg, at your look of confusion explaining, “Ranboo’s a new comer. Uh- he’s- different, half enderman, we think, eye contact isn’t his thing, so be aware of that.” 

You nodded as he pushed open the door, “Hey- guy’s drop what your doing, this is important-” there was a small thud, “No not literally Ranboo- it’s a figure of speech.” 

You drifted past him into the room, smiling at the flustered looking enderboy, your brother, and his best friend, “Hello!” 

Tommy’s breath hitched, his lip beginning to tremble, “(y/n/n)?” 

“Hi Tommy! Hi Tubbo! Hi person I’m assuming is Ranboo!” 

The tall boy waved awkwardly, “Hi?” 

Fundy cleared his throat awkwardly, “Uh, I have t’get back to work. They’re- confused. I-” He gave Tubbo a ‘this is your problem now’ look before quickly turning and leaving. 

“Uhh... (y/n). You’re- back?” Tubbo laughed as if he couldn’t believe it. 

Tommy was still staring at you in shock, “(y/n)?” 

You drifted across the floor to be near him, “Tommy what’s wrong?” 

Your brother burst into angry tears, “I thought you were gone! I thought that he took you away from me! He- he fucking thought- that bitch thought he could take away my sibling! Just- just because of some- of some fucking-” He fell off into hiccups, tears still falling down his face.

“That bastard! He- he fucking killed- he- and for what? Cuase he didn’t fucking like who you were seeing?” Tommy muttered, moving back past Ranboo to sink into a chair.

“Who? Who didn’t like it?” You asked. 

Tommy let out a bitter laugh as Tubbo looked at you sadly, “It’s- nothing.”

“Hmmm, well, what’s going on here then? Did we win the war?” 

Tubbo nodded, “Wilbur- isn’t here anymore, he- he- sort of betrayed us, and we chased him out. So we’re rebuilding the walls, so he doesn’t do anything else, and me and Tommy are co presidents.” 

You nodded, but were still confused, “What did Wil do? Is it why Phil said he wasn’t his son any more?”

Ranboo gulped awkwardly, “Uh- from what- er I- uh heard, yes.” 

“hmmmm, I hope it wasn’t anything too bad.” You sighed. 

You stayed with them for another hour, talking about L’manburg, and the presidency, until Niki arrived, breathless, having heard you were back, “(y/n/)!” 

“Niki!” You looked over her, something seemed off, less bright, less Niki.

She glanced around the room, “How about we go for a walk, to catch up?” 

There was something desperate in her voice, and you weren’t stupid enough to ignore it, “Of course.” 

She gave you a strained smile, motioning to the door, “Let’s go then.” 

Soon you were out wandering through the city, many of the crowds were gone, though you could see signs of life in open windows, and small restaurants, “Niki what’s going on here? Something isn’t right.” 

“Nothing is right, not since we got rid of Wilbur.”

You looked up at the walls, now seeming to loom twice as tall as they once did, “Tommy and Tubbo- they’re anxious about something.” 

Niki nodded, “The whole country holds its breath. Tommy is angry, and Tubbo is paranoid. They think Wilbur will blow up the country, and that he’ll have help, the walls, the security checkpoints- none of this is what L’manburg was founded for.

“The people are terrified, everyone tells them something different, they’re waiting for the country to be driven into the ground.” 

You gulped (can ghosts gulp?), “Well that isn’t good. Maybe- Maybe- hmmmm, Maybe you should be in charge Niki! You- don’t tell the others- but I think you’d make a better president than any of them!” 

“If I could I would (y/n), but it’s not that simple,” She smiled sadly, looking around with a sigh, “Why don’t you go find your boyfriends? Have you gone to see them yet?” 

~~ “Georgie!” 

The King blinked, quickly pushing back the small sense of hope, he was just imagine things again, he thought to himself, he had to be. 

“George what’s wrong?” 

The voice was closer now, and it was the cold sensation at touched his shoulder that convinced him it was real enough to look, blinking in surprise again at your gray form, hovering next to his desk, “(y/n/n)! Oh my god! (y/n/n)!” 

You grinned, “George!” 

“Your back!” The goggles were quickly pushed off his face, dropped down onto the top of the desk, “Y- your really back!” 

You nodded eagerly, “I missed you! Well- I mean, it wasn’t that long that I was gone. At least I don’t think- anyway I missed you!” 

“I- (y/n) it’s- it’s been nearly a month.” 

You cocked your head, “Huh, that's weird.”

“George who are you talking...” Nick trailed off as he entered the study, “(y/n)?” 

You could see the tears in his eyes as you awkwardly waved, “Hi Nicky.” 

“Holy shit.” He muttered, “I- we thought you were gone- I mean- when- when Wilbur...” 

“When Wilbur what?” You asked with a chuckle, “Everyone keeps saying he’s done something, but no one’s told me what.” 

Both men froze, sharing a looking, “Don’t worry about it.” 

Nick quickly swiped away tears, “So your back?”

You nodded, “I’m back- hey, have you guys noticed how L’manburg’s being all weird now? Niki says Tommy and Tubbo are running the country into the ground.”

“Well- they’ve refused all foreign aid, we tried to offer them help- after the war, paying for damages and such after they sorted out there Wilbur problem,” George sighed, “And so far only Eret’s tried reaching out to talk to us, help with our Dream problem.” 

“Yeah, where is Dream? I miss him and I can’t ping him, cause ghosts don’t have com tablets.” 

“Even if yours hadn’t broken it wouldn’t help. He disappeared after Wilbur- did that thing,” Nick sounded all to broken for your liking, “He hasn’t answered any of our messages.” 

You frowned, “Well that's not like him. Maybe he just left his tablet somewhere- or maybe he just got busy doing something again, you know how he gets during manhunts.” 

“(y/n),” George tried gently, “He- smashed his com tablet, said something about going off the grid, undermining the server. He probably isn’t coming back.” 

You froze, hover in silence for a moment, “No. No that’s not true- he wouldn’t- he wouldn’t leave us! You’re lying to me! He loves us! He’d never leave! It’s not true! He wouldn’t do that! Your lying!”

Nick seemed shocked at the outburst, “(y/n)- we were just as upset but he left- gone insane-” 

“STOP LYING TO ME!” You exploded, “He wouldn’t do that! I know he wouldn’t! Your just lying!” 

They watched you sink to the floor, spectral tears flowing down your cheeks, mumbling, “You’re lying, you’ve gotta be lying, he- he wouldn’t he wouldn’t do that.” 

~~

“Wilbur!” 

Your brother flinched, he’d planned for this, he reminded himself, as soon as he heard the rumor's. 

“(y/n).” He stood up, turning to face you, ignoring how he’d begun to shake. 

He didn’t regret what he’d done. 

At least that was what he told himself. 

He knew what he had had to do, and he done it, and he had no regrets for his actions, because it was all in the plan.

“Wilbur what’re you doing outside L’manburg? I thought they said they chased you out.” 

“I missed it.” He said simply, forcing back the choked noise that had started in his throat upon seeing your grey floating form. 

“Did you miss me? George and Nick said I was gone for almost a month, that that was how long you and Dream were gone for.” 

“Don’t fucking talk about that man.” Wilbur spat. 

At your face of shock and horror at what you said Wilbur grinned, “Oh yeah, I know all about them (y/n). Them, and You, and everything before your death.” 

“Why do you hate them so much?! Can’t you see that they make me happy?! What did they ever do to you?!” 

“THEY TOOK AWAY MY SIBLING! MADE YOU TURN AGAINST ME! AGAINST L’MANBURG!” Wilbur yelled. 

Tears started to slip from your eyes again, “Wil, I never turned against you- your my brother, I love you. Why is it so hard for you to see I’d never turn on you? Who I love has nothing to do with it.” 

“Oh it has everything to do with it!” He laughed, finally managing to shut off the tiny part of his brain that screamed at him to stop, “You’re fucking dead because of it!” 

You blinked, “N- no! It’s not because of them! I died in the war! Dream was trying to protect me! I died so we could be free again!” 

“No (y/n)! You are so fucking stupid! Your dead because I killed you! I killed you because you were turning against me! Because it was the only way to get those fuckers to get there hands off you!” 

You let out a choked sob.

“And guess what? I don’t regret anything. I killed you so that they would suffer! Suffer from loosing you the way I had! And it worked and so none of the cost matters!” 

“No wonder everyone’s mad at you,” You sad shakily, “You’re a monster Wil.” 

“And I’m not the only one.” 

He sounded almost proud, gesturing his chin upward, at a patchwork of scaffolding as being stretched across the sky above L’manburg, distantly you could see someone in a neon green sweater running across the top. 

~~ “Dream, what are you doing?” 

The man only sighed at the serious voice, “Getting revenge. It’s what they would have wanted.” 

“Is it?” 

He finally turned away from the contraption, staring through the slits in his mask at the Spector that hovered in front of him, “So you really are back.” 

“Dream,” You could almost see the wall he had put up when you died, repeating, “What are you doing?” 

“I’m going to destroy L’manburg.” His voice was cold, steely, too close to that which you remembered from the day he and Tommy had their duel. 

“You think that’s going to make things right? You think that’s going to put me- my spirit to rest?” 

He faltered, “It has too. Wilbur killed you, and now he’s going to pay.” 

Slowly you moved closer to him, across the narrow walk way, “Clay why did you leave them? When did you break your com tablet? You knew they needed you.” 

“I- I had too.” The smile on his mask was all to haunting, a broken reminder of the past. 

“They needed you and you left them. You put them aside, for this? To be a villain?” 

“If I’m a villain then so be it.” 

Down below the people of L’manburg were beginning to raise alarms as you spoke, “They love you. I love you. You don’t- you don’t need to be the villain my love.” 

Slowly he reached up, slipping the mask off his face, “I know, I know but- but this is the only way.” 

Gingerly you reached out, hovering your hand right where it would rest to cup his cheek, “It isn’t the only way. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to cause this destruction.” 

“It’s the only thing I know how to do,” There was anguish seeping in to his voice, “I don’t know if I can do anything else.” 

You longed to embrace him as he fell to his knees, “You don’t have to do this Clay.”

“I don’t know how! I don’t know any other way to make Wilbur pay!” 

“Clay look at me, look at me, there is another way- you don’t have to do this, We love you- we miss you- Nick, George and Me, we can just, climb down and go and find them and then run away together, leave this all behind!” 

“Keep them safe.” He sniffed, wiping away angry tears. 

“Yeah- yeah- we can build a little cottage, and plant flowers in the window boxes- and forget all about this,” You were phasing back into the material world, nearly by Dream’s sheer willpower as he pulled you into his arms, “And we can forget all about this, but only if you don’t do this.”

“I don’t know if I can... (y/n) I don’t know if I’m strong enough.” He sobbed. 

“You are darling. You are. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to do this Clay, we love you.” 

He sniffed, sitting up a little, one of his arms reaching away, both of your breathing unsteady as you looked up at him, desperation in your eyes...

And then the tnt hit the ground. 

The world exploded into fire, ripping away his words: 

“I love you too.” 

[zukkoxx]

sparring with the boys!

w/ bakugo, kirishima, sero, shoto

bakugo 💥

sparring with bakugo was nothing new.

you were one of the few classmates that could keep up with him in a match, and being his s/o was just another reason to spar with him regularly.

he also liked you to push yourself to get better.

no way would he date a weak side kick. you’d have to be able to give him a run for his money for him to even say a word to you.

most of the time, the spars were really serious.

a time where both of you worked on things you needed to improve on, and gave each other tips that you think would help.

even though bakugo was a bit reluctant when it came to getting advice, he still appreciated the fact that you cared about his fighting style.

sometimes though, on more chill days, you and bakugo would have a light match, which usually resulted into being able to spend more quality time with him. wink wonk ;)

it was a little early into the night, and bakugo decided to have a spar match before he went up for bed.

you two had been going for about half an hour already, and even though you both had energy to keep going, it seemed like the match was going a slow pace.

bakugo had sent his left fist towards you, and you swiftly dodged it, smirking when he growled.

he tried to throw you off by quickly sending a punch with his right, but you were able to grab his hand, and used your leg to trip him onto his back.

you quickly got on top of him, pining him down and smiling in victory

“what the hell? i said no legs this round!”

“what’s the fun in that katsuki? come on, this match is boring.” you sighed, about to throw your legs off of him when he stopped you, pressing his hand against your thigh.

he sat up so that you were straddling his lap. “boring huh? well what could i do to make it more interesting for you?” he had a scowl on his face, but you could clearly see the playful glint in his eyes as he stared at you.

“mmmm i don’t know, maybe stop sending punches directly to my face!” you yelled, pushing him away and standing up.

“you think a villain is gonna stop fighting you if you tell them to?” the blond asked, laying back down on the matted floor.

“maybe if i give him the puppy eyes. it seems to work on you, right?” you pouted playfully, sticking out your bottom lip and turning your eyebrows up.

bakugo’s scoffed turned into a chuckle as he stood up, walking closer to you. “you’re lucky your cute.” he bent down, pressing a peck on your lips before wrapping an arm around your back and pushing you to the ground.

you hit the floor with a thud and looked at bakugo who was glaring down at you mischievously. “prick.” you mumbled, turning your head away as he went to kiss you again.

his lips connected with your cheek, and you felt him smile as he pulled away. “your prick. dumbass.”

kirishima 🪨

kiri loved sparring with you!

it gave him a chance to practice on his hand on hand combat while being with his favorite person ever

sounds like a win win to him

you guys tried to spar at least twice a week, maybe three times if your schedules fit it

sparing with kirishima usually consisted of praising each other and exclaiming how good the other was.

it also never left either one of you hurt. kiri didn’t like to see his precious s/o in pain. especially not because of him.

“wow babe! that move was amazing! can you teach me that?”

“sure kiri. all you do is wait until your opponent throws a punch, then turn your back to them, grab it’s arm, and fling them over your back.” you demonstrated slowly to your boyfriend. “that should give you enough time to get the lead on them.”

kirishima stared at you lovingly as you explained. “what did i do in my past life to deserve such an awesome s/o?”

“kiri stoppp.” you blushed, laughing playfully.

you guys tried moves on each other for a few more minutes until kiri gave a suggestion.

“i’ve been trying to make my body stay hard for a way longer period of time. the problem i have is my stomach. it seems to not want to hold as much as my other body parts.”

you listened intently, grabbing a drink out of kiri’s water bottle. “so uhhh, you mind punching me a few times around there? just so i can try to figure out what’s the problem.”

“you sure kiri?” you asked.

“of course babe! i need some type of stimulation that would trigger it to stay hard longer. this will really help me out.”

you shrugged and agreed, watching kirishima lift up his shirt, cheeks heating up at the sight of his flexed stomach. “don’t get all flustered on me babe. it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“shut up.” you muttered before kirishima hardened his stomach and you began throwing punches around the area.

“aww come on y/n. i know you can do better than that. are you underestimating your man? i can take it!” he smiled, encouraging you to hit harder.

you complied, and started putting more force into the punches.

this continued for about four minutes, taking 10 second breaks each minute. by the time the five minute mark hit, you pulled your hands away, shaking them.

kiri looked at them, and gasped so loudly you thought he had hurt something.

but no, he was staring wide eyed at your hands.

“Y/N WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME YOU WERE BLEEDING!?” he asked. you looked at your hands and shrugged. “i honestly didn’t notice kiri.”

“UGH this is all my fault. i’m sorry baby, i’ll take you to recovery girl ASAP.” he bent down, picking you up and flinging you over his shoulder with ease.

“but kiri i’m fine!”

your protest fell on deaf ears. your were already out of the training room and halfway down the hall to recovery girl’s office.

sero 🩹

training with sero was....an experience.

there was never a session that would end without you two flirting or making out with each other.

it was just...the two of you, alone together, in tight clothing and all sweaty?

a formula for disaster.

but- you weren’t complaining.

there were some times where you both took it seriously though.

sero would help you with whatever you needed to work on and you did the same for him.

recently, he was really set on working on his capturing technique. he liked the thought of behind able to snatch villains up before they could even think.

so of course you helped him achieve is goal.

“anyone anyone? please i need a hero!” you yelled in a high squeaky voice, hanging from one of the pull up bars in the corner of the training room.

“if i don’t get saved quickly, i’ll fall to my DEATH.”

sero came in shortly after, swinging on the tape from his elbows. “m’lady, what seems to be the problem?”

you scoffed halfheartedly. this was your idea sero

“well if you couldn’t already tell sir, i’m stuck on this super high building and my hands are slipping. please save me!”

“well lady you’re lucky i’m here! just hang tight and i’ll get you down as soon as possible.” sero nodded, and began walking away. you scrunched your face in confusion.

“uhh sero i know this is an act but i’m really slipping...” you warned. the pull up bar you were on wasn’t too high, but it was still left you hanging a few feet from the ground. enough to hurt your ankle if you fell from it.

and the stool you used to get up in the first place wasn’t under you anymore.

your hands were starting to sweat and you were actually slipping.

“sero quit joking around!” you yelled to the back of your boyfriend’s head.

a few seconds later, your hands let go and you closed your eyes, ready to hit the ground.

but instead, you felt something wrap around your torso, yanking you to the side. you yelped as you were pulled into sero’s arms.

when you realized he used to tape to pull you from hitting the ground last second, you looked at him with a frown. “that wasn’t funny.” you pouted, hitting his chest.

“did you really think i’d let my baby fall to their death? no way, mi amor.” he brushed his nose against yours, and you just couldn’t stay mad at him.

“thanks for saving me..my hero.” you kissed him softly and he finally let you go.

“hey! what to you say we do it again but i come from the ceiling. upside down. like spider man!” sero jumped in anticipation.

you didn’t deny his request.

shoto ❄️🔥

shoto was always hesitant when it came to sparring with you.

you were strong of course, and he knew that.

but he also knew his quirk was very difficult to defend against. and it was easy to get hurt when fighting against him.

and while he did want you to improve, he thought it’d be better for you to do it on your own, or with someone who’s quirk was a little less overpowering.

usually you agreed, but today you had just come back from a week with the hero you had been interning with and you wanted to show shoto everything you learned.

“okay shoto. don’t hold back on me now.” you told him before you started the match.

it was definitely an intense session. both of you were out of breath and sore after about an hour.

shoto eyed you cautiously as you bent over with your hand in your knees, feeling bad that he had tired you out.

“come on my love. don’t overwork yourself trying to impress me. i’m already so proud of everything you’ve done.” he said sincerely, pressing a hand against your back.

“but shoto, there’s still one more thing i want to show you.” you stood up, taking a deep breath to finally get your breathing under control and told him to go back to the other side of the spring mat.

he was hesitant at first, but did as he was told when he saw your pleading eyes.

the two of you started fighting again, and eventually you both started to get more competitive.

shoto already had a competitive personality, and while he was weary of you getting hurt, he did notice how you were able to stand your ground against him well.

you didn’t want him holding back, so he didn’t.

at some point, both of you were throwing long rang attacks that had the other falling to the ground.

you sent an attack to shoto that bounced him back, making him fall on his butt before he could stop it.

his eyes hardened, and for a moment he forgot this was just a sparring match with his s/o

he sent a huge plank of ice your way, scooping you under your feet and making you hit the ground hard.

he stared at you as you lay in the ground, breathing heavily.

after a few seconds, he realized what he had done.

“y/n!” he yelled, stumbling over himself to get to your side. he rolled you on your back so you were facing him, and his eyes sank in guilt when he saw you pain written face.

“i’m so sorry my love, i should have calmed down a bit. i didn’t mean to. are you okay?” he asked quickly, looking around for injuries.

you stayed quiet for a bit, before sitting up, grabbing shoto’s face, and pressing a big kiss against his lips.

he stared at you in shock

“shoto i’m fine!” you reassured. “i was just joking around.”

he couldn’t find words for a good 15 seconds, just staring at you with the same wide eyes from before.

after a while, his gaze softened and he shook his head with a light chuckle.

“that was cold y/n. real cold.”

“not as cold as the ice you used to slam me on my butt.” you respond, shoving his shoulder.

“i suppose you’re right.” he pressed a kiss in your forehead and cheek, letting it linger for a few seconds before pulling away. “i’m just glad you’re okay.”

hoped you guys like this! i’m open for feedback and requests! just type it here! :3 🥀

[triplexdoublex]

Alpha Omega

Pairings: Colson x Reader

Warnings/Tags: alcohol, drunk, attempted rape (colson saves you before ANYTHING happens), potentially triggering dialogue about it the next morning, strangers to friends to lovers, smut, squirting 💦

A/N: Inspired by a weird dream I had and a real tweet I read, the person Jake in the fic was actually Jake Paul in my dream (ew). If you think the beginning backstory may trigger you and just want to read their friendship turn to lovers/smut, then scroll to the 2ND time skip marked with stars (***)

College mid-terms were finally over, which meant the same thing every year: the Alpha Omega annual fraternity party! It was the biggest party on campus every year, and even though it’s not really your scene, you decided to attend this year. Maybe it was the stress of mid-terms weighing extra heavy on your mind, but you needed an escape. But now, five full drinks and some shots later, you find yourself stumbling around the drink and keg area in the kitchen with a half-empty red solo cup, wondering how the hell you're supposed to find your way back to your dorm to sleep off what was obviously a very poor decision.

“Hey pretty thing,” you hear, suddenly feeling an arm slink around your waist.

“Do I know you?” you ask, disoriented and confused as your eyes try to focus on the face of the person touching you.

“The name’s Jake,” he shouts over the music, guiding you out of the kitchen and into the main party room. “You should come back to my room, you look like you need to lay down,” he says with ill-intent, but you’re too intoxicated to argue, letting him lead you up the stairs.

Even though most of your senses are impaired right now, you can’t mistake the distinct, pungent smell of weed wafting towards you as Jake escorts you down the hall once the two of you reach the top of the stairs.

“Yo, Jake!” a voice shouts from an open door, smoke billowing out as you pass.

“Hey Cols, what’s up?”

“Nothing much, man,” he says, blowing a smoke ring as he passes the blunt to his roommate Pete. “Wanna hit?”

“Maybe later, gotta get this pretty little thing back to room,” Jake answers.

“Aye, she alright? Colson questions, quickly rising to his feet.

“Yeah, pal she don’t look too good,” Pete coughs.

“Nah, man, that’s fucked up. She’s gooone!” Colson says getting a closer look at you. ‘You can’t talk her back to your room like this. That’s just wrong.”

“The fuck I can!” Jake retorts. “Look,” he says turning to you and lifting your slumped head. “You wanna go to my room with me don’t you, sexy?”

“N-nno” You slur, drunkenly shaking your head ‘Yes’

“See, she shook her ‘yes’,” Jake argues.

“Yeah, and her mouth said fuckin’ NO, Dawg!” Colson snaps back.

“Listen, I’m taking her to my room and there ain’t shit you can do about it!”

“The fuck there is!” Colson swings, his closed fist making contact with the side of Jake’s face, knocking him out cold.

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

The next thing you know you’re opening your eyes; an unfamiliar room and bed coming into view. You slowly sit up holding your throbbing head

“Hey, you’re awake,” says a soft voice to your right. Quickly, you turn your head in a panic to see a tall blonde sitting on the edge of the bed.

“W-who are you? Where.. Where am I?” you ask on the verge of tears.

“My name's Colson,” he reaches out for your hand. “I —”

“Don’t touch me!” You yell, scooting backwards pulling  the covers up over you when you realize all you’re wearing is a thin, white, mens t-shirt. “Where are my clothes?”

“Aye, yo, it’s not like that. Relax, listen,” he stands with his hands up backing away from you. “I slept on the couch, I just wanted —”

“Where are my clothes!?” you demand.

“You threw up on them,” he answers.

“So lemme get this right … I threw up and you took off my clo —”

“NO! No! God no!” he says waving his arms. “My roommate Pete —”

“So your roommate Pete took off my clothes…?”

“NOOO! Please, just listen. I swear I was just trying to help you and keep you safe.” The desperation in his voice causes you to let down your guard a little. “I was saying, my roommate Pete. His girl. She stayed over last night and I asked her to help get you cleaned up and changed. I saw nothing I swear,” he puts his hands up again.

You sit there in silence, confused, trying to process everything he just said.

“You really don’t remember anything from last night? Do you?” He asks, stepping slowly back towards the bed.”

“No,” you shake your head, disappointed in yourself.

He cautiously begins to sit back down on the edge of the bed then pauses “Can I?” 

You nod ‘yes’ and he takes a seat.

“Yo, you were in really rough shape last night. I’m assuming you had too much to drink?”

“Yeah,” you admit looking ashamed.

“Aye, we’ve all been there. I’m just glad you’re ok,” he smiles. “Me and my homie Pete were just up here smoking when we seen some dude we know trying to take you back to his room. I could tell you were wrecked. Fuck, you where barely conscious. I tried to tell him how wrong that was but he wouldn’t listen so I knocked him the fuck out. I didn’t know where your dorm was or if you came to the party with anyone and I wanted to make sure you had a safe place to sleep it off.”

“ Thank you. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions,” you apologize.

“Nah I completely understand,” he accepts your apology. ‘That’s why I wanted to be here when you woke up, I figured you might be a little confused.”

“More than a little,” you let out a small laugh.

Colson cracks a smile, then heads to his dresser, pulling out a pair of his athletic shorts. “Here, tell you what,” he says, tossing the shorts on the bed. “ Imma head out there —” he points to the door. Let you get dressed and I’ll drive you back to your dorm. Cool?”

“Cool,” you answer with a thumbs up and a smile as he steps out the room, closing the door behind him.

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

“Seriously, thank you so much,” you say when he pulls up to your dorm.”What can I do for you? I feel like I can’t thank you enough.”

“Nothing. Any respectable man would have done the same thing,” he says.”I can only hope that one day if god forbid my daughter even finds herself in that position that someone would do the same for her.”

“Awww, you have a daughter?”

“Yeah,” he smiles like a proud father, lifting his backside from the drivers seat to pull out his wallet. “Her name’s Casie,” he says opening to her picture.  

“She’s beautiful.”

“Thank you,” he says, then tucking his wallet back into his pocket. “She lives with her mom but I still see her all the time.”

“I’m glad. You seem like you’d be a great father.” you smile. “Thanks again,” you add, stepping out of the car.

“Hey, ummm, wait,” he calls out the car window as you walk towards your dorm.

“Yeah?” you turn back to face him.

“Ain’t you in that bitch Mrs. Pearson’s creative writing class with me?”

“Oh yeah,” you thought he looked familiar. “You usually sit up in the back row right?”

“If you mean ‘take a nap in the back row’, then yeah that’s me”, he laughs.

“Well see you bright and early tomorrow then I guess,” you smile.

“Yeah, see ya,” he smiles back before driving off.

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

The two of you became quite close after that. Gradually moving your seats closer and closer to be near each other in class and pairing up for projects together. You even got to meet his daughter Casie briefly once before her mom picked her up from their weekend visit. You spent a lot of your free time together.It was amazing how you could do absolutely nothing when you were together yet there was no awkward silence or moments: much like right now where you're both hanging out in your dorm just laying on your bed scrolling aimlessly through your phones.

“Oh my god why are men so stupid?” You blurt out in laughter, showing him a tweet on your phone. “This dude really had the audacity to make a whole ass thread about how to eat pussy but he obviously has no clue what he’s talking about; girls don’t squirt out of their clits!’ No wonder girls never cum and have to fake it. Ya’ll mother fuckers don’t even know where the clit IS, and I’m pretty sure squirting is just something made up by the porn industry cuz that shit never happens in real life.”

“Aye, nah I hope you aint including me in that, cuz lemme tell you, ya boy knows where the clit is!  My girls always cum,” he smirks. 

“Yeah, okay,” you roll your eyes. “How do you know they’re not faking?”

“Cuz squirting ain’t made up, that shits VERY real! Maybe not every time but it has happened so I know they weren’t faking,” he smiles. “You mean to tell me a guy has never made you cum?

“Uhn uh” you shake your head no.

“And you’ve never squirt... even ..uhh..by yourself...or with whatever toys you chicks use?”

“I mean I’ve cum alone, but never squirt. No,” you admit blushing. You and Colson have never discussed anything sexual with each other before.

“That’s bananas, dawg!” he exclaims, slapping the bed.

The room grows quiet, the silence feeling awkward for the first time in your whole friendship.

“Aye, uh you trust me right?” Colson breaks the silence

“Yeah, of course, with my life!” you exclaim.”Why?”

“Trust me enough to uhmm...show you what I can do?”

“Are--are you saying you wanna — “

“I wanna make you cum,” he blurts out, cutting you off. “If- if you’ll let me that is.”

“I...Uhmm..I..”, you stumble while thinking it over.

“Sorry… uhhh let’s just forget this whole conversation, okay?” he says ashamed, thinking he made you uncomfortable.

“Why not,” you blurt out nonchalantly.

“Wait!, why not, like… like you … you wanna —”

You silently shake your head yes biting your lip.

“Oh shit! For real?” He says in surprise, getting up off the bed. “Uhh, c’mere,” he calls you over to the edge of the bed.

You do as you're told crawling over to the edge, sitting with your legs dangling off the bed. “You know, you don’t gotta go easy with me,” you smirk waiting for him to make his next move.

“Good, I wasn’t planning on it,” he says, immediately flipping you over and yanking your panties off from under your dress.

“Ugh you boys are all the same,” you groan looking back at him assuming he’s just gonna start fucking you from behind. “Haven’t any of you even heard of foreplay?”

“Don’t tell me no one’s ever eaten your pussy from the back before?” he questions, kneeling down behind you. 

With both hands he grabs your ass making it jiggle for him before delving his tongue between your folds, his tongue exploring every crevice. You gasp at the sensation and feel his muffled laugh buzz against your core, intensifying your pleasure. Gripping your ass tighter, he alternates between plunging a firm, pointed tongue in and out of your wet slit and assaulting your clit with a series of rapid fire kitten licks. Your legs weaken with each lash of his tongue, your body slowly collapsing against the bed.

“Keep that ass up, girl,” he pauses briefly to say. You try with all your might but it’s no use; Colson has reduced your legs to a pile of jello. Roughly he tosses you onto your back, spreads your thighs open and gets back to work. Keeping his tongue focused on your clit, he slides two fingers deep inside of you, his lengthy digits perfectly pressing against your G spot. “I can feel this pussy tightening around my fingers, I know you're close, right?” He pauses to ask cockily.

All you can manage is to nod, ‘yes’, your bottom lip clenched tightly between your teeth as you look down locking eyes with colson; the fiery passion in them is a stark contrast to their ice blue hue.

Colson quickens the pace of his fingers, the sloshing of your wetness audible as he brings you closer to the edge. Then resting his free hand on your mound he gently pulls back the hood of your clit with his thumb exposing the most sensitive part sending your body into convulsions when he rapidly flicks his tongue against it.

“Colson, FUCK!!! ” you scream out in pleasure as the most intense orgasm of your life rips through you. “Oh my god... oh my god,” you chant in pleasure and shock as you realize you’re actually squirting. Colson doesn’t miss a beat continuing to work you through your high, relishing in the mess you're making all over his face and fingers. When you finally stop twitching he removes his fingers and sits up with a smug look. He pulls off his shirt, wipes his glistening face with it, then tosses it on the floor and hurriedly starts undoing his belt.

“You didn’t think I was just gonna stop at one, did you?” He says cockily pulling himself from his boxers. “Awhh, fuck yeah, sooo wet and tight,” he groans as he pushes in, then bringing his hand between your two bodies, and begins to rub your clit as he thrusts.

“Mhmmmhhmm,” you moan, the bundle of nerves still sensitive from your prior orgasm.

“Told ya I could make you feel good,” he teases, his breath ghosting over that one reactive spot on your neck just behind your ear, causing you to let out a little squeak. “You like that?” He laughs, nipping at the same spot while his hips roll in like the tide, crashing repeatedly against the shore of your pelvis. He nips and kisses along your jawline making his way to your mouth, harshly tugging your bottom lip with a groan. Your tongue reaches out, searching for him as he pulls back.

“Fucking tease,” you whimper.

“That desperate to taste yourself on me?” He chaffs.

To be honest you’re desperate for everything he’s giving you right now; you’re body has never felt such pleasure. So when he offers his mouth back to you, you happily welcome the tart taste of yourself still present on his ravenous tongue. Your mouths move in a hungry rhythm, following suit with your hips. Your breaths and moans echo each others, increasing in speed and volume as climax nears. He can tell you’re so so close and he knows just how to get you there. He  grabs your legs pulling you flush against him and throws your legs over his shoulder, keeping your thighs pinned to his chest with both arms as continues to pound you.

“Mhmmm… Yeah, Yeah, Fuck me! Fuck me!”  you whine needily clawing at the sheets as you enjoy his cock from a whole new angle, slamming into your g-spot at the perfect tempo. It’s just a few more thrusts until he has you completely undone, cumming for the second time today.

“Jesus Christ, Colson” you moan breathily as you ride it out.

‘Ughggg,” he grunts loudly, quickly pulling  out, your legs falling to hips as he finishes on your stomach. 

“Can’t believe you were out here talkin’ ‘bout men don’t know where the clit is and no man ever made you cum,” he says mockingly after he catches his breath. “Nah, girl, you just been fucking with some losers. Gotta get you a real man like me.” 

“Well looks like I got myself one now,” you smirk. “ because we will definitely be doing that again!”

“Awhhh shiiiit,” he says loudly, his hand covering his smile. “ Got you addicted to this dick already, huh?” He teases.

“Shut up,Colson-,” you laugh, chucking a pillow at him “- and go get me something to clean off my stomach.”

[wanderinginksplot]

Nobody Listens to Kix

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Case 01386: Gregor

The commando standing in front of him was a miracle… At least, the closest thing the GAR had to one. CC-5576-39 - or Gregor, as he was known by the men - had been MIA for years. Then, he had been presumed KIA after he caused a series of explosions to distract a Seppie army while a group of droids escaped the distant planet they had all been stuck on.

Sometimes, Kix felt like he was really missing out on the action by being a medic.

The scanner in his hand beeped, indicating that it had finished, and Kix grimaced as he read over the results. Maybe he didn't mind missing out on commando-level action after all.

"Your body is in starvation mode," Kix told Gregor slowly. "You didn't have much to eat while you were stuck on Abafar, did you?"

"No, sir," Gregor admitted softly. "Borkus said I was a burden as it was, that he couldn't afford to keep feeding some human who ate like he was going to starve. He said I had to cut down on how much food I eat in a day."

"Well, for a normal human, that may be true," Kix told him. "But since the Kaminoans engineered us to have a faster metabolism than the nat-borns, we need to consume more calories in a day just to stay healthy."

"So, I'm not healthy?" Gregor frowned, staring down at his hands like he expected them to have wasted away to bones while Kix spoke. "I feel healthy."

"You aren't dying, if that's what you're asking, but we need to make some changes if we want to keep it that way," Kix warned.

"Won't I just be a little more… uhh- slender?"

"No. Not eating enough can lead to a number of problems, mostly with metabolism, but with other parts of the body as well," Kix told him, automatically slipping into lecture mode. "It can also cause diabetes, negatively affect your muscle mass, and even affect the density and porosity of your bones if left untreated for a long enough period of time. After that, major systems start shutting down."

"Oh. So what- what do I do?" Gregor asked haltingly.

"Well," Kix answered slowly, formulating a plan as he spoke. "You and I will work closely together to build a diet plan. You're being held here on a medical leave for the next few weeks, right?"

Gregor grimaced. "Yes. They say I can't be cleared for duty until I regain at least 60% of the muscle mass that I lost while I was on Abafar."

"Perfect. You'll need a lot of high-potassium foods and we'll have to monitor your salt intake, so you're better off here on Coruscant. Nutritional paste and ration packs are only meant to sustain your current physique with minimal loss of mass, so being on a ship wouldn't be in your best interest."

After Gregor indicated his understanding of Kix's explanation with a nod, Kix began working on the rough draft for a meal plan, calculating serving sizes and calorie requirements on the edges of the piece of flimsi. He sketched out a plan for weeks at a time, going as far out as a month and a half before Gregor would be back at full strength.

"When we're done, I'll place the data on a chip and we'll give it to one of the meal preparation droids so it can keep the diet going. I'm only on leave for the next few days, then I ship out for a month," Kix told him, tallying up a long column of totals. "If you don't mind, I'd like to have a med droid send me updates about your progress. I would like to check on your muscle gain when I get back, but I can at least give you advice about when it's safe to start exercising again."

"That's fine," Gregor said distantly.

Kix frowned down at the page before finishing up and holding it out to the commando. "Check this for me. If you have any particular objections to any of the foods I have listed, we can make adjustments. We just have to meet the calorie amounts I have listed per day."

Gregor made no move to take the piece of flimsi. "I'm sure it's fine."

"I'm sure it's not," Kix countered. "Studies have shown that you absorb more nutrients from foods you enjoy than those you don't. Look over the meal plan and tell me about the foods you don't like." Gregor still didn't move and Kix let his voice grow sharp. "That's an order, trooper."

The commando took the flimsi with the jerky motions of someone who had reacted on pure instinct, but he didn't even try to read it. Instead, he stood staring down at it blankly, guilt scrolling plainly across his face.

Kix stood and Gregor's gaze snapped to his face, something like fear budding in his expression as his breathing grew concerningly fast. Kix held his hands up, palms out, and put on his best soothing voice. "It's okay, vod. I just want you to sit down for a minute, yeah? I feel like we need to have an honest chat. Is that okay?"

"Y- yeah," Gregor stuttered slowly, face paler than the flimsi he still held in a loose grip. "Yeah, we can talk."

"I'm just going to help you sit down, all right?"

Gregor nodded, and Kix was alarmed to see how uncoordinated the gesture was. He walked around the desk with a calm he didn't feel, talking quietly and narrating his own actions all the while. "I'm going to come help you find a chair, that's all. We just need to get you sitting down. Is it okay if I touch your elbow?"

He waited for the commando to nod again before he gently grasped Gregor's elbow and steered him into a nearby chair. As soon as he sat down, Gregor sprawled slightly against the uncomfortably rigid backrest.

"What's going on, Gregor?" Kix asked, voice pitched low and gentle.

"I- I don't- I don't know," Gregor told him. "My heart hurts and I feel like I'm about to go into battle."

Fast heart rate. Adrenaline. Fear. Kix was willing to bet that Gregor was having a panic attack. "I'm going to touch your arm again. We're just going to put your hand on your stomach, okay?"

After another nod, Kix positioned Gregor's hand so that it was spread against his stomach, just under his ribs and diaphragm. As he had suspected, the commando was breathing shallowly, worsening his fluttering pulse.

"All right, Gregor," Kix said, deliberately using Gregor's name to draw his attention. "We're going to do a breathing exercise and I want you to feel the way your stomach and ribs move with it. I'm going to count to five as you breathe in. Ready?"

Gregor nodded and Kix started to count. "One… two… three… four… five… Okay, now hold it… two… three… four… five… Now breathe out… two… three… four… five… and hold… two… three… four…. five…"

He kept counting, Gregor kept breathing, and Kix could see the panic ebbing from his patient's tense posture. Eventually, Kix stopped speaking and Gregor continued breathing normally. When Gregor opened his eyes again, Kix asked, "How do you feel?"

"Tired," Gregor admitted, "but better. What was that?"

"I think you had a panic attack," Kix theorized. "Can you think of anything that may have caused it?"

"I'm not sure. I was thinking about Borkus and then you gave a command and I just- just…"

"That's okay, vod," Kix soothed, trying to ignore his own flare of guilt. "Tell me about Borkus. What made you think of him?"

"I- well… he never gave me much choice about what I ate. Or where I lived. Or what I did. I did so much…" Gregor's voice faded out so that Kix had trouble hearing his admission, "I shouldn't have been allowed to come back."

"Why not?" Kix asked, trying to keep his voice even. The last thing he wanted to do was trigger another panic attack.

"I- Borkus, he… I was his hired muscle. I did terrible things…"

"Did you hurt any innocents?"

"No," Gregor said, quick and firm. "I would never hurt anyone who wasn't part of the underworld, no matter what Borkus did to me. But I… I acted in ways that no soldier should."

"Listen, Gregor," Kix said, settling into a chair beside the commando. "That shabuir Borkus is the one to blame here. He saw an opportunity to manipulate someone else for his own gain. You didn't know who you were or what you should do, but you knew enough not to hurt those who didn't deserve it. Borkus is the one who should feel ashamed for the things he made you do."

"But I'm the one who did them," Gregor countered. "How do I move on from that?"

"You live," Kix said simply. "Focus on getting your health back, and let time heal everything else. Now, how do you feel about meiloorun?"

Gregor frowned. "I'm not really sure. I've had the juice, but never the fruit."

Kix stood again. "Well, meiloorun is good for people trying to rebuild their bodies after starvation. I saw a shipment in the main hangar bay. Let's go grab a few and see if you like them."

"Right now?"

"I wrote your whole meal plan around them, and you would just have to deal with it if you hate them. Is that what you prefer?" Kix waved the sheet of flimsi around, satisfied with the easy way Gregor's eyes tracked the movement.

"Lead on," Gregor said easily, rising from his chair to follow Kix from the medbay.

---

A/N - Okay, here's the thing: I've only ever had one panic attack, so this chapter was written with a bit of research and a lot of drawing on my own limited experience. Much more research went into refeeding syndrome and the side effects of not eating enough calories in a day. Also, the thing Kix says about absorbing more nutrients from foods you enjoy is real! I've been using it as an excuse to eat inadvisable foods for the last month, though, so I guess it's cursed knowledge? You're welcome! (Message me if you want the sources I used for the information in this chapter)

On the medical side: if you're struggling with an eating disorder or even just a negative self-image, please seek the appropriate help. The negative side effects listed in this chapter are just the tip of the iceberg and eating less than you should will permanently damage your body - and, unlike Gregor, it will take more than just a few months to regain your health. The technique Kix uses to calm Gregor is called square breathing, and it helps me in times of stress or high tension. Look into it if you think it could help you, but obviously seek the advice of a professional.

Thank you to everyone who has liked or reblogged this story!

[crystalrose555]

Don’t make me slap you! Pt. 2

Reblog if you want more!!

“So, can I eat it?” Beelzebub asked as his stomach growled.

The pudgy creature growled lowly, eyeing Diavolo intensively while he continued to stare back in astonishment. Lucifer blinked for a moment before clearing his throat to get his attention.

“There must be a mistake, Lord Diavolo. This is just a beast from the human realm.”

“A seal, to be precise. What I don’t understand is what went wrong.” Barbatos questioned.

“Well whatever you guys did, you really fucked up!” Mammon laughed.

“Could be worse, Mammon could have summoned one of the witches he owes money to.”

“Shut it, Asmo! You ain’t cute!”

Asmo gasped loudly.

“How dare you, you money-grubbing scum eater!”

Mammon and Asmo proceeded to bicker back and forth as Satan held his head in frustration. Looking in between his fingers, he watched his siblings fight while Levi kept trying to reboot his handheld. With a sigh, he addressed his third oldest brother.

“Levi, it’s a seal, maybe you can do something since you are the most attuned to the sea and its creatures.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s a seal, nothing special, just let Beel eat it.”

“Levi, you didn’t even look at it-”

“Listen, I have hundreds of hours of save data that I need to worry about, that is not a priority.”

Despite all the noise of the demons discussing at different levels of intensity, Diavolo continued to stare at the seal who never broke eye contact, never batting an eyelid. He couldn’t help but smile since he was still shocked by his surprised guest. He found the blubbery creature fascinating as he tilted his head slightly in curiosity. The seal, on the other hand, didn’t seem as fond since it continued to give off a low growl. Slowly, the pudgy seal began to bounce from him as quietly as it could, its eyes never leaving his. He just blinked and giggled a little, admiring it as it back away from him. However, to both of their surprise, the seal’s escape was halted by the solid legs of a waiting Beelzebub who was drooling from the corner of his mouth.

“Beelzebub, hold off on eating it for a moment so we can figure this out.” Lucifer claimed nonchalantly.

However, unbeknownst to him, this triggered something in their animalistic guest. With a quick and forceful bounce into Beel’s leg, he tumbled hard onto the ground while the seal slipped past him at an impressive speed. Like an arrow, it shot across the floor and aimed for the open door. Unfortunately, with a flick of Barbatos’ wrist, the door slammed closed and became a barricade which bounced the escapee back towards the center of the room where all of their eyes were upon it. The seal quickly looked around to all the demons staring at it before retracting back into its body and releasing an even lower growl.

“Alright, what are we going to do with this creature?”

“I thought I could eat it.”

“Yeah, I’m not going to watch Beel eat a live seal, I want to keep my appetite for dinner.”

“And he would make a total waste of that fur. I think it would make a beautiful coat.” Asmo gleamed.

“Wait, I heard that seal pelt can fetch a pretty price, especially when it’s clean.” Mammon claimed with a sparkle in his eye.

The seal froze stiff at the comments being made around it. However, that changed when Mammon crouched down to its level with a wicked grin.

“So, huh, who wants to be a fur coat, who wants to make Mammon a pretty grimm~” He taunted.

“Uhh, Mammon, I don’t think you should get that close to it.” Satan warned.

“Oh come on, it’s just a dumb animal, it doesn’t know what we’re talking about. Ain’t that right, dummy?”

Quickly, the fuzzy animal gave Mammon an answer, in the form of a quick warning snap of its surprisingly sharp jaws. The sudden act of violence caused Mammon to lean back to dodge, however, he seemed to be stuck in place for a moment. But this was temporary when the seal delivered a hard headbutt to his nose, knocking him flat on his butt. Asmo and Satan covered their mouths to stifle their laughter while Lucifer sighed and shook his head.

“What a shame, to think that you can be outsmarted by a common beast, Mammon.”

“I wasn’t outsmarted, it just took me by surprise, that’s all!”

“Well, I guess we can’t let Beel eat it since it’s smarter than Mammon, it just seems wrong somehow.” Asmo suggested with a cat-like grin.

“Exactly, we don’t want to be unwelcoming to our new exchange student!”

Everyone looked at Diavolo who crossed his arms with a smile. The shock and confusion continued as Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You can’t be serious, Lord Diavolo. This is just a regular seal.”

“Oh, I’m absolutely serious about this, Lucifer. I think this animal will bring big surprises to Devildom. I mean, how often do our summonings go wrong? I definitely believe this is a sign.”

Lucifer looked at Barbatos for some sign of sanity but only found him pondering the decision of his master.

“Barbatos, what do you think?”

“Well, it did display a pretty decent level of intelligence with its escape attempt, not to mention it’s already looking for another way out while we are talking.”

The powerful trio turned their attention back to the seal who quickly retracted its neck back to its body. Lucifer raised a questionable eyebrow at its sudden behavior shift. He then grasped his face, cursing himself for even considering acknowledging such nonsense. However, his thoughts were ripped from him with the sound of panicked barking. He turned to see Beel lifting the seal with a hungry glare in his eyes as the poor thing thrashed back and forth.

“Beelzebub, put down the seal!”

“But I thought I could eat it...”

Lucifer sighed.

“You heard Lord Diavolo, it’s the new exchange student.”

“Are you kidding, Lucifer!? That thing is a menace!” Mammon cried.

“Like it or not, it proved to be of interest. I was going to make you its caretaker but I think it made its dislike for you clear.”

“Oh, looks like it has good taste after all~”

“Quiet Asmodeus, as of right now, no harm shall come to this creature, is that clear?”

His brothers remained silent as the sound of clicking buttons filled the air.

“Now as for its primary caretaker, Leviathan shall be the demon for the job.”

The sudden shock caused Levi to fumble his game system. He turned with a panicked look on his face.

“Waaaah, why me?”

“Don’t be dramatic, you are the clear choice to take care of it. You are the most attuned to the oceans and its creatures. If you can tame Lotan, then you can handle this seal. So name it quickly.”

“This is unfair...” Levi grumbled.

He hated the fact that he was bullied into taking care of an animal he could care less for. He turned his hateful gaze to the seal only for it to give back an even more hateful glare back. Surprised, Levi’s anger and annoyance turned quickly into embarrassment with a flustered blush on his face. Quickly he looked away which caused his elder brother to question him.

“What’s wrong, Levi?”

“N-Nothing, her name is Mochi, alright?” He quickly blurted out as he turned back to his game.

[gettin-bi-bi-bi]

Uhh nefore further reading, I apologise if this ask is triggering to the trans mods. I understand if they don’t want to look at it or answer. Having said that, here goes the question:

How common do you think is to be jealous of other queer identities? For context, I am bisexual and I currently identify as nonbinary (trans misogyny exempt) and for the past months I’ve been feeling jealous of trans men and other transmasculine people who’d rather be seen as men than as women in society. I can’t help thinking “of course they do. Anything is better than being a woman. I wish I could escape too” and, logically, i know that’s really unfair because being or passing as a man doesn’t mean your life is automatically easier. Men (and especially trans men) have different struggles that are as real as women’s, but for some reason I can’t get my brain to really believe it. I am jealous because they don’t get catcalled or forced to shave their legs or perfom “feminine rituals” once they transition, and can walk at night safer than if they were a woman, among other things. I don’t think transitioning would be the answer for me, because unfortunately i like this weaker body better ;-; i feel like there’s no solution for me. Sorry for long ask

because of your trigger warning for the trans mods I'm gonna answer this as the only cis person on this blog but of course Wes, Max or Tiger might want to add something from their perspective - and tbh I hope they do because I can, by virtue of beign cis, only speak about this from an outside perspective.

First of all, I might be uneducated here but what exactly does "trans misogyny exempt" mean? To my understanding anyone can be/say/do transmisogynistic things, even trans women themselves can internalise it and direct it at themselves or other trans women. You know, like bi people can also be biphobic. So, forgive me if I'm misunderstanding something here but as far as I know there is no identity that makes someone inherently exempt from transmisogyny?

I've recently learned that "gender envy" is a thing that trans and non-binary people sometimes experience which is when they see someone who presents a certain way and they wish they would also have that gender expression. I'm not sure if I can relate to that experience since being cis I hardly ever even think about my gender consciously. Maybe any trans people reading this could let me know if I understood the concept of "gender envy" correctly. Anyway, maybe that's something that plays a part in what you're feeling.

I assume from your ask that you have been assigned female at birth which makes me think that some of what you're struggling with could also be internalised misogyny. Yes, you're non-binary but that doesn't mean years of living as an afab person have had no impact on you. Especially the part where you're talking about a "weaker" body makes me think that and this strong association of womanhood = performance of gender expectations and being in constant danger of being assaulted.

And then.... I think you have some serious internalised transphobia or enbyphobia. That "jealousy" that you describe is loaded with a lot of assumptions about trans men that I don't think are all holding up. For example saying that trans men "don’t get catcalled or forced to shave their legs or perfom “feminine rituals” once they transition" is a very simplified understanding of transition. It's not like going on T makes a trans man pass as cis over night (if he even wants to pass) and a lot of trans people are actually expected to overperform the gender they transition to which is also pretty fucked up. It's not like trans men aren't also the target of transphobia or unhealthy gender stereotypes, or that a trans man is automatically safe from being assaulted. Corrective rape is a thing and if a transphobe doesn't even think of a trans man as a man then any "privilege" or safety he might have had is gone, worst case it puts him at greater risk of being assaulted (compared to cis men for sure and depending on the situation maybe also compared to cis women).

Furthermore trans men are not "escaping womanhood". That is a very transphobic thing to say and smells of TERF rhetoric (TERFs like to think that trans men are "confused butch lesbians" who are "forced to escape womanhood by patriarchy"). Trans men are men, whether they medically transition or not. And they do not do it to escape womanhood or have it easier to walk down the street at night. They transition because they are men and they want to live their true gender identity.

I don't know what advice to give you here other than that you probably still have a lot of self-reflection to do about your own gender and that you should educate yourself on what it means to be a trans man so you can unlearn those misconceptions about them. And also don't assume that anything about your identity exempts you from holding transphobic misconceptions and beliefs. As sympathetic as I am to anyone who has some such internalised issues, it is your responsibility to work through this - both for yourself and for the trans community. It's gonna take time and effort but I feel like in the end you might also be much more at peace with your own gender identity and be able to more clearly understand what this "jealousy" really is and how to deal with it.

Maddie

[eddieeatsass]

On the Edge of an Avalanche

Summary: Graduation was upon them and Eddie Kaspbrak was eager to leave Derry behind. His one last hurrah would be the senior ski trip, earning him an escape from his mother and the looming stress of college admissions. It was supposed to be a relaxing vacation, until he got slated to look after resident pain-in-everyone’s-ass, Richie Tozier. Pairing: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak Rating: E Chapter: 3/5 Read Chapter 2 Here  /  Read on AO3

The next morning felt like a slow-motion scene unravelling before him. Eddie had spent most of the night replaying the events that him and Richie had engaged in, dissecting it for all he could and trying to figure out what it all meant. He hadn’t fallen asleep until the birds were waking up, singing a morning song that rang more like a lullaby to Eddie’s tired ears.

  The first time he woke he felt a warmth pressing up against his back, arms curling around his torso, and smelled sickly-sweet cinnamon that was unfamiliar but undeniably soothing. He fell back asleep not long after.

  The second time Eddie woke he felt rustling beside him, a gentle press to his cheek, and just barely heard something whispered. He never opened his eyes, sleep already pulling him back in.

  The final time he woke that morning was very different from the others; a booming voice announcing an arrival had shaken him out of slumber and almost out of bed.

    “JESUS CHRIST WHAT THE SHIT-” Eddie clutched his blankets in a death grip, holding them up higher as if they could shield him from the onslaught.

  “Wakey wakey Eds and bakey!”

  Eddie groaned internally, already upset at his body for having such a visceral reaction to the sound of Richie’s voice even while it was so tired, and Richie was so loud. Did he have any self respect?

  Eddie peered out from behind his sheets, eyes meeting a ruffled bed head and an early morning smile.

  Okay, maybe Eddie didn’t need self respect when Richie looked that good.

  “I brought breakfast.” Richie stated, holding the plates up as a peace offering.

  Eddie didn’t even have to think before he scooted over, making room for Richie and patting the open spot.

  Richie hobbled over, handing one of the over-stacked plates to Eddie and plopping himself down with a small “oof”.

  Choosing to avoid the elephant in the room for a while longer, Eddie speared what he assumed to be an egg with his fork. He couldn’t be certain, as Richie had coated everything on both plates with a healthy serving of hollandaise sauce.

  “How’s the ankle?” Eddie asked tentatively.

  “’s fine.” Richie said through a mouthful of food. His cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunk, but rather than being off-putting, it was annoyingly charming.

  “You really shouldn’t be walking on it.” Eddie mentioned.

  “I’ve had worse.” Richie shrugged, as if that was supposed to be comforting to Eddie.

  “Where did you get the food?” Eddie asked, changing the subject once again to avoid the hovering topic. It was well past breakfast time, and Eddie knew the buffets were never open past 9am.

  “I snuck into the kitchen.” Richie shrugged, as if that were a totally normal thing to do.

  “What- Richie! You could have gotten in trouble!”

  “But I didn’t.” Richie smirked triumphantly.

  “Anyone could have caught you! And you could have been sent home, or worse, the staff could have called the police! I mean it is technically stealing, and trespassing, and could probably be charged as breaking and entering, and-”

  Eddie was cut off by a fork full of food being shoveled into his open mouth. A fork that wasn’t his fork. A fork that had been in someone else’s mouth, that should have grossed him out, that should have sounded off the alarm in his head. But instead, the fork sat in his mouth as nothing more than a slight inconvenience; not a trigger for his neuroses or a reason to grab his mouthwash, just a fork. What kind of spell did this boy have over him!?

  “Now chew.” Richie ordered, pulling his fork out and leaving the food to sit inside Eddie’s mouth. He did as he was told, chewing a few times and swallowing the food that, in any other case, would have disgusted him.

  “There. Now, do you hear any sirens outside?”

  “No, but-”

  “Is your body getting ready to violently regurgitate everything?”

  “No-”

  “Then just enjoy the food, spaghetti man.”

  Richie said it like it was so easy… And maybe it was. Eddie could be a bit rebellious, couldn’t he? Richie had gone out of his way to get them breakfast, no matter how irresponsible it had been, and Eddie had done nothing but complain. He hadn’t even thanked Richie. Besides, how was it any different from when Eddie snuck into the school’s kitchen to get Stan his special lunch?

  The difference, Eddie realized with his heart skipping a beat, was that Eddie didn’t care much about his own wellbeing. The wellbeing of Richie, however, was a completely new ballgame, and Eddie suddenly found himself at bat.

  “Sorry, it’s hard for me to keep my anxiety in check sometimes.” Eddie admitted, poking around his plate and eating a few more bites. Admittedly, the food was really good.

  “Hey, no need to apologize, I get it.” Richie assured, shooting Eddie a smile that melted him to the core. “Just know that I’d never put you in any real danger.” Richie added with an honesty that watered something warm and vibrant in Eddie’s chest.

  And somehow, Eddie knew that was true. Richie might be reckless at times, but he wasn’t stupid, and he protected those he cared about.

  Eddie wondered if he was in that category now.

    Before Eddie could dwell on it any longer, there was a knock at their door followed by Mr. Daniels’ voice giving them a half hour before they head out. It seemed that while Eddie had been busy sleeping in, the bus had been repaired and returned to their motel.

    As they filed into the vehicle, Eddie noticed that the teachers had switched buses for the day. Mr. Daniels made no mention of the seating arrangements (to which there had been more changes than just Richie and Stanley). This, of course, resulted in absolute mayhem as everyone that had been assigned to different seats now reverted to their original spots. As a result, the bus soon returned back to its chaos.

  Eddie glanced over at Richie, his fingers twitching as he held himself back from reaching out and clutching Richie’s arm to keep him close. Of course, Eddie wouldn’t mind sitting with Stan again, but he’d grown attached to Richie, and even though he felt like they were treading unfamiliar waters now thanks to last night’s unspoken tryst, he still wanted to be close to him.

    The bus hadn’t started moving yet, so kids were still flying from row to row, taking advantage of their newfound freedom thanks to Mr. Daniels more lax approach at chaperoning. Eddie bit at his fingernail as he watched Richie out of the corner of his eye, too afraid to speak but just as afraid to take his gaze off him.

  Richie, on the other hand, seemed completely unaware as he happily tapped away at something on his phone. His shoulders were hunched forward in poor posture and he was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, now wrinkled from sleeping in them, but he was still the picture of beauty as far as Eddie was concerned.

  Eddie got caught staring as Richie’s head turned without warning, but it was only met with a smile and an endeared laugh.

  “Is it cool if I switch with Stanley for a bit? Bill’s been harping on me for not texting him back all night, that clingy son of a bitch.” Richie held up his phone as evidence, even though the screen was black and gave Eddie no hint as to the topic of their conversation.

  He hoped in equal parts that it was and wasn’t about him.

  “Yeah, whatever.” Eddie tried to feign indifference but overshot and ended up sounding rude. He winced at his own tone of voice and swallowed back the urge to apologize immediately.

  “Uhh, okay.” Richie seemed confused, but his face stayed open and inviting despite the quirk in his brow. Liquid lapis eyes training on Eddie for a beat longer than necessary before he was hopping up and heading down the isle.

    As soon as Richie was gone, Eddie let his head fall against the frostbitten window with a thunk, his eyes closing instinctively as he retreated inside his brain.

  He was exhausted, both physically from lack of sleep, and emotionally from all these new unfamiliar emotions. It’s not that Eddie had never had crushes before; there was Steven from summer camp, Harry who worked at the bookstore, and Isaac who’d been their mechanic for six years, and had taken Eddie under his wing after his father died.

  However, of all the infatuations Eddie had had, Richie was the first one that actually made sense. Steven had been too far away, and straight. Harry had been too busy, and straight. Isaac had been too old, and straight. But Richie… well, he lived in the same city, wasn’t bogged down by work, and was the same age as Eddie… and was… possibly not straight?

  Eddie felt the seat dip beside him, but refused to open his eyes. Call it a protest of the outside world for being too confusing, he’d open his eyes again when someone had the answers for him.

  “Hey.”

  Okay, well maybe Stan would have the answers.

  Eddie grumbled his greeting, pulling his body away from the window only to let it slump the other way, right into Stanley’s shoulder. He wavered a bit at the sudden impact but righted himself quickly, supporting Eddie’s weight easily.

  “So, are you the reason Richie’s walking with a limp today?”

  “WHAT?” Eddie’s head shot up, his brain working in overdrive to try and wipe his slate clean, erase any sign of culpability. Did Stan know what they’d done? Did everyone know what they’d done? Oh my god, Richie told someone and now everyone was going to know that they-

  “I mean, I just assumed Richie crossed the line at some point and you had to deliver some swift Kaspbrak karate moves to shut him up.” Stan held his hand up in fists and, with delayed relief, Eddie realized Stan was making a joke.

  Eddie let his head fall back into the cushiness of Stan’s shoulder, his body somehow even more drained than it had been thirty seconds ago. Eddie wasn’t fully certain how he planned on getting through today.

  “He was actually really respectful.” Eddie responded. He didn’t realize it was so out of character until Stan fell quiet, followed by a prodding question.

  “Are you okay?”

  There it was, the question Eddie couldn’t even answer for himself. Was he okay? He didn’t feel okay, but nothing had actually gone wrong, right? In fact, if anything, things had gone in Eddie’s favor. So why did he feel this heavy weight in his chest, baring down on his lungs and slowly squeezing the air out of him?

    When Eddie had returned from the bathroom the previous night, steeled to have the inevitable conversation that came after dry humping a guy you’ve been familiar with for no more than a day, he’d found Richie fast asleep.

  Not knowing what else to do, Eddie has simply crawled into bed beside him.

  But those hours laying awake had left him with too many thoughts, the most prodding being his fear that he’d been used as a prop for Richie’s experimentation. Did he even like guys? He’d never mentioned it, never seemed to show any interest past a couple of jokes. But that was all they were, right? Maybe the jokes had been the first signs Eddie should have noticed, subtle hints Richie was dropping to insinuate that Eddie would be the perfect contender for a round of ‘am I gay or just horny?’. Eddie had practically opened himself up to it after coming out to him.

  His pessimism may have been clouded by past experiences, but after what Eddie had been through, it was no wonder he jumped to conclusions. The only experiences Eddie had to speak for were secret rendezvous with nervous classmates that inevitably ended with Eddie being ignored the next day. It was a pattern, and Eddie was the invariable. He was the small, quiet twink that every questioning athlete and nerd alike seemed to peg as an easy target for their sexual experimentation.

  It wasn’t all bad; it was how Eddie got his first kiss, his first hand job, and so on and so forth. It had, however, left him feeling skeptical of anyone who showed even the barest of interest in him, writing it off as nothing more than curiosity.

  The thought of that being the case with Richie left Eddie’s stomach souring. He’d never gotten attached like this before. Quite honestly, he felt like he was standing on the edge of an avalanche, just waiting for Richie to speak and cause it all to collapse above them.

    “What do you think about people experimenting with… New things.” Eddie braved forward.

  “Uh, I mean that’s a pretty vague question.” Stan pointed out.

  “Okay… say you’ve only ever eaten hamburgers your whole life, right? Through and through you’re a hamburger guy. Until one day you see a hotdog and think, well, maybe I’ll try that today. What if you try it and you don’t like it? Are you just going to throw it away? How is that fair, to just use the hotdog and then discard it like it’s nothing?”

  Eddie hadn’t realized that his voice had become fast-paced and high-pitched until he noticed the look on Stan’s face. Clear confusion was evident in the way he gazed at Eddie with his brows knit in the middle and his mouth slightly agape. Eddie immediately wanted to disappear.

  “Nevermind, it’s stupid.”

  “No! No, sorry, I just…” Stan took a breath and sat up straighter, angling his body towards Eddie. “Okay well, experimenting with new… foods doesn’t always end up in distaste, right? Lots of people end up discovering some of their favorite… foods through exploration.”

  Hearing the metaphor come out of Stan’s mouth made Eddie realize how nonsensical it was. God, he was about two seconds sway from digging himself a hole and hibernating until springtime.

  “But if you’re worried about someone… Not enjoying the hot dog, just talk to them about it. Maybe they didn’t realize how their actions might hurt the… hot dog…”

  Eddie and Stan stared at one another for a long pause until Stan cracked a smile, and it radiated so much warmth and comfort that Eddie couldn’t help but smile back. Soon they were falling into giggles, easing themselves into full-blown laughter at the absurdity of the conversation.

  Stan had to have figured it out by now, but Eddie was thankful that he didn’t push him past what he was ready to talk about. Stan was a quality friend, and Eddie had never appreciated his presence in his life more than he did right now.

  “Thanks Stan.” Eddie said honestly, bumping shoulders with him as the last of his chitters died out.

  “Anytime.”

  “You might want to consider the possibility that this isn’t their first time eating a hot dog though.”

  “What?” Eddie blurted.

  “I just mean, you’re assuming they’ve never had a hot dog before, right? Maybe they tend to lean more towards hamburgers but that doesn’t mean they’ve never been intrigued by hot dogs before. Maybe they just needed to find the right hot dog…”

  Eddie’s face heated up as Stan continued to talk.

  “All I’m saying is if it was truly just some reckless experimentation, they’d probably wait until college like the rest of us.”

  Eddie’s head hurt, the metaphor finally losing its last small thread of sense.

  “Right… wait until college to… eat a hot dog…” Eddie repeated slowly.

  Stan opened his mouth to reply, but the voice that rang out wasn’t his.

  “Who’s got hot dogs?”

  Eddie just about jumped out of his skin, his eyes darting up to connect with Richie’s. Eddie felt like he had just been caught talking about him, which he sort of had, but Richie was none the wiser and, hopefully, neither was Stan. The only one floundering was Eddie, but boy was he in the deep end.

  “NOTHING. NO ONE.” Eddie exclaimed much too loudly for the situation.

  Both Stan and Richie stared back at Eddie, equally puzzled expressions on both their faces. He felt like there was a single ping pong ball bouncing around in his head at light speed, desperately trying to find an appropriate response to save himself. Thankfully, Stan was always one step ahead of him.

  “We were just talking about how Eddie’s mom makes the best hot dogs.”

  Eddie’s nose instinctively scrunched up at the mention of his mom during a metaphor about his sex life, but he quickly schooled his features and nodded along.

  “Mmm, I’m gonna have to fight you on that until I’ve tasted them for myself. Otherwise, the best hotdogs in Derry are undoubtedly the ones from Kelso’s Diner.”

  Eddie short circuited at the insinuation that Richie would indeed one day be trying Eddie’s mom’s cooking. Meaning he foresaw them continuing to be friends past this trip. Meaning, and this made Eddie’s head spin, Richie didn’t seem to have the intention of dropping Eddie the minute he got what he wanted.

  What exactly did he want?

    “So, Stan the man, if you don’t mind, I’m going to kick you back into the strong arms of Bill Denbrough and reclaim my rightful seat here.” Eddie couldn’t help but notice the way Stan’s face flushed just a shade darker. Was there something there that Eddie didn’t know about?

  He didn’t have time to ponder Stan’s reaction to the mention of Bill Denbrough or his strong arms. Stan shot a quick ‘talk to you later’ Eddie’s way and was retreating to his seat as Richie settled into his.

  Eddie’s head was swirling as his senses reacted to Richie’s proximity. He forced himself to speak through the rush of endorphins, even though all his body wanted to do was curl into Richie’s side.

  “What did Bill want to talk to you about?”

  “Relationship drama.” Richie answered, shrugging it off. “There’s always something with that boy.” The way Richie spoke wasn’t annoyed or exhausted, but rather amused by his friend and his ongoing antics.

  “I’m glad you were able to help him.” Eddie responded genuinely.

  “Yeah, me too.” Richie’s smile felt intimate, as if it were just for Eddie, even though they were talking about someone else entirely.

  Eddie began to smile back but was overcome by a yawn, his face distorting as his jaw dropped on its own, too motivated by exhaustion to wait for the queue from his brain.

  “Didn’t get much sleep last night?” Richie pondered.

  “Uhm, yeah, I guess not.” Eddie answered sheepishly, hoping Richie didn’t connect his insomnia to their late-night encounter.

  “Bummer, I slept better than I have in months. You’re a good cuddler.” Richie’s comment was dropped so casually that Eddie almost didn’t catch it, but his ears were awake enough to tinge a bright rose in response.

  “Well, anyways, Mr. Daniels said we have about an hour until we get to the resort so…” Richie tapped his shoulder invitingly, and even though Eddie had been in the exact same position mere minutes ago with Stanley, it felt vastly different when the shoulder was attached to Richie.

  “T-thanks.” Eddie stuttered, dipping his head low into the crook of Richie’s shoulder fast enough that he hopefully didn’t notice how much redder Eddie got.

  He was sure his heart was beating too fast for him to possibly fall asleep, but the closeness to Richie rejuvenated him in another way. He let his eyes slip closed as he slowly relaxed into the comforting presence beside him.

    “-ddie, hey, Eds.”

  “Mmmm ‘s not my name.”

  “Fine. Edward Kaspbrak, king of slumber and bearer of drool, it’s time to wake up.”

  Eddie’s surroundings slowly came into consciousness as he was pulled back into awareness. The first thing he noticed was that he was in a very different orientation than when he’d last been cognizant. The second thing he noticed, and much more dreadful, was that his cheek was indeed covered in drool.

  He brought a hand to his face and wiped away the moisture as quickly as he could, riding himself of any evidence Richie might be able to use against him.

  Who, speaking of, was currently underneath him in a way he very much hadn’t been before.

  At some point, Eddie had ended up with his head in Richie’s lap. Richie’s hand was in Eddie’s hair at the nape of his neck, gently playing with the strands as if it was an absent habit he did all the time. The act was so domestic it made Eddie want to burst into tears; whether they were sad or happy tears, he wasn’t sure.

  He sat up slowly, careful not to have the blood rush to his head too quickly. The last thing he needed was to pass out in front of Richie. Who knows what kind of intimate position he’d wake up in the next time.

  “We’re here, everybody’s already outside.” Richie offered as explanation for Eddie’s disrupted sleep.

  “What? Why did you wait to wake me?” Eddie asked with only a tinge of annoyance. Luckily, Richie seemed to be charmed by it.

  “You’re cute when you sleep, let a man indulge.”

  Before Eddie could form a response, Richie was already standing up. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and made his way towards the front of the bus, leaving Eddie to fumble to catch up.

    When Eddie stepped off the bus, the first thing he noticed was how white everything was. It was to be expected, of course; it’s kind of hard to ski without snow. But it was such a stark difference from where they’d been just an hour ago. The difference a small distance could make was staggering; this didn’t even feel like it belonged in the same universe.

  The view was gorgeous with its tall log cabins, ski lifts moving like carousels, and snow-covered evergreens on every surface. Eddie was half tempted to throw himself down in the snow and make a snow angel.

  But the cold nipping at his nose was a reminder that before he could indulge in any snow activities, he had to actually get equipped for the snow.

  To their left, Mr. Daniels and Eric were unloading everyone’s bags from the storage compartment beneath the bus. Eddie could already spot his small suitcase, a bright pink flamingo covered hand-me-down from his mom, sitting in the snow.

  While they waited, Richie’s friends sauntered over, Stan happily alongside them.

  “I can’t wait to hit the slopes.” Bill greeted them as he bobbed up and down eagerly, his enthusiasm contagious.

  “I’m just excited for the hot chocolate.” Beverly countered, as she wrapped her sweater a little tighter around herself. All their winter coats were stuffed in their suitcases, the cold air taking advantage of their thin jackets and exposed skin.

  “Here Beverly.” Ben had shrugged off his sweater and was offering it to Beverly with a shy little quirk of his lips, but Beverly regarded it for only a moment before shaking her head. She took the sweater and threw it back over Ben’s shoulders before crowding her way into his space and snuggling right up against his chest.

  “Body heat works better.” She teased lowly.

  Richie let out a long, slow whistle, summing up what everyone was thinking; Beverly was sly as hell and Ben was gleefully in way over his head.

  The exchange made Eddie crave Richie’s warmth, yearn to be back in that motel bed, blissfully unaware of how intimate they were being in their sleep.

  There was no more being blissfully unaware, not with how Eddie’s heart beat to a different rhythm every time Richie’s arm would brush up against his.

    “Alright, everyone grab your bags and follow me.” Mr. Daniels announced, finally closing the now empty compartment of the bus.

  The seven of them sauntered over to the pile of suitcases and duffel bags, searching out their own among the many.

  Even though Eddie had already spotted his suitcase, he pretended to search for it for a while longer until Richie found his. Only then did he grab the bright pink monstrosity by the handle and begin lugging it up the hill, Richie wordlessly in tow behind him.

  They managed to reach the top of the hill without Richie stumbling too much, but as soon as Mrs. Harrow came into view there was no hiding Richie’s injury anymore.

  With hawk eyes homing in, Mrs. Harrow walked over to Richie with a displeased expression.

  “What happened here, Richard?”

  She sounded almost exasperated, and it made Eddie want to step in and defend him.

  “Oh, you know, just my bum leg. It acts up every now and then, ever since that terrible kite flying accident…” Richie looked off into the distance as if remembering a tragedy of great proportions.

  Mrs. Harrow rolled her eyes. Eddie’s anger flared once again.

  “Well, we can’t send you home now, so you’ll just have to spend the trip indoors. Absolutely no reckless activity, you got that Tozier?”

  “Aye aye, captain!”

  Mrs. Harrow didn’t acknowledge his response, simply turned her back towards them and began her search for the next student in need of scolding.

  As soon as she was out of ear shot, Eddie began fuming.

  “What the hell, why does Mrs. Harrow have it out for you? Can’t she see you’re hurt? Is she even capable of sympathy?”

  When Eddie looked over to Richie, he saw something soft and sweet in his expression, a contrast to Eddie’s bubbling temper. “You care about me.” Richie mused with a smirk.

  “W-what- no I don’t- I mean I do but- not like- shut up.” Eddie grabbed his suitcase once again and began walking away.

  “You can deny it all you want, Kaspbrak. I see right through you!”

  Eddie flipped Richie off over his shoulder as he disappeared through giant mahogany double doors.

    Their rooms were small, a single bed meant to be shared between the two classmates who signed up to room together. Normally on school trips, the school tried to cram as many students into one room as possible, but they must have known from prior visits to the lodge that these rooms just couldn’t hold more than two at a time.

  However, despite the small quarters, they were undeniably beautiful. Every surface seemed to be made from the same rich darkened wood, and every accent was bronzed. One wall was taken up by giant windows that overlooked the mountain below them, able to be hidden behind heavy curtains that took Eddie’s full force to pull closed.

  Eddie and Stan didn’t spend much time in their room, stopping only briefly to drop off their luggage and get bundled up in preparation for the slopes. Eddie was practically buzzing at the opportunity to teach himself something completely foreign; it’d been a long time since a new sport had been in his reach, and he was planning on taking full advantage of the absence of Sonia.

  “Are you almost ready?” Eddie bounced on the balls of his feet as he waited for Stan by the door, one hand already on the knob in anticipation.

  “Yes, for god sake Eddie, I just need to find my gloves.”

  Eddie’s eyes glazed over as he thought about the adrenaline rush he’d longed for. He still played tons of sports but there was something about learning a new one that left Eddie especially excited. He didn’t care much for the competitiveness of sports, and while he didn’t mind the sportsmanship of it all, it wasn’t why Eddie was motivated to get involved. Quite simply put, Eddie just wanted to play. He wanted to live out the experiences he missed out on, that pure rush that came from scraping your knees while playing soccer or face planting while diving for the volleyball. It may seem uninteresting to those who had already lived it out in childhood, but to Eddie it was nothing short of euphoric.

  “Here they are!” Stan exclaimed, holding his pair of gloves above his head as he tucked everything else back inside his suitcase.

  “Good, now come on, let’s goooooo.”

  Eddie was already out the door before Stan could answer, but he knew he was following by the distinct sound of swishing snow pants.

    They made their way down to the lobby, eagerly chatting about how fun their afternoon was going to be, when they ran straight into a brick wall of a body.

  “Fucking move, queers.” Henry ground out, placing a flat hand on Eddie’s face and pushing him aside with ease.

  “Henry, don’t you have anything better to do than project your internalized homophobia onto others.” Stan replied flatly.

  “What the fuck did you say to me?” Henry hissed, flipping his attention to Stan with a new temper flaring.

  “Stan…” Eddie warned, reaching for Stan’s hand to pull him away from the rising confrontation.

  Stan seemed to pale as he realized his comment wasn’t going to be shrugged off. He tried to keep himself composed but Eddie knew his tells well enough to notice the change.

  Henry’s gaze flicked down to where Eddie was trying to join hands with Stan, and a wicked grin soured his face.

  “Oh, I see…” Henry began, stalking closer to the pair and causing them to stumble back. They didn’t fear Henry like they used to, but he still held some power in those eyes that had never fully ceased to make them tremble.

  “You two fucking fairies together now? I should have seen it coming, pansies aren’t potted too far from one another. So, tell me, who made the first move, huh?”

  Eddie’s throat was thick with fear, his eyes unable to move from where Henry’s gaze pinned them.

  “Wait don’t tell me… It was you, wasn’t it, Uris? Eddie here is too limp wristed to do anything, just a little girl in sheep’s clothing. But then again, I guess if the rumors are true, you’re not completely useless. At least you give good head.”

  Eddie’s face burned as he held back the tears that threatened to give him away. He was fine, Henry’s words were hollow. Eddie had already heard every gay slur Henry had in his vocabulary.

  “Too bad you’re not pretty enough to turn any of them into faggo-”

  Eddie’s fist moved before his brain did, lining up perfectly with Henry’s jaw and landing the punch exactly where it would hurt most. Stan flinched beside him as the sickening crack rang out in the empty hallway, followed by a wail that made snow drop from the treetops outside. Eddie didn’t move, refused to let himself back down even as the tears broke free and streamed down his face.

  “KASPBRAK.”

  Eddie jumped, whipping around in horror as Mrs. Harrow’s voice broke through his resolve.

  “WHAT THE HELL.”

  Eddie stared in shock. He’d never done anything worthy of breaking a teacher’s ‘no cursing’ rule before, though he’d seen many teachers reach their point of profanity with other students before. It sort of felt similar to when you see a teacher outside of school and are reminded that they don’t just exist inside the bubble you’ve put them in. Well, the bubble had popped, and Mrs. Harrow was now stalking towards him with a new air that absolutely paralyzed him. He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he didn’t. He just continued staring back at her, watching as she passed him and rushed over to Henry, taking his face in her hand and angling his head to assess the damage. Luckily, there was no visible injury past some reddening (though the same wouldn’t be true once the bruising began to set in).

  “Eddie.” Mrs. Harrow sighed. She released Henry’s face and brought the hand up to her own, pinching the skin between her eyes as if she was fighting back a cresting headache.

  She probably was.

  “I’m sorry Mrs. Harrow, I didn’t-”

  Eddie was interrupted with a single finger, held up intimidatingly as Mrs. Harrow continued to try and gather her patience.

  “No skiing.”

  “What!?”

  “What about that needs clarification, Edward?”

  “But I didn’t do anything!”

  “I watched you punch Mr. Bowers across the face.”

  “Well, yeah, but-”

  “No. Skiing.”

  Eddie fidgeted in place as he desperately grasped at straws in his head that could possibly get him out of this situation. Maybe if he could get Mrs. Harrow alone and just explain to her what Henry was saying-

  With an exasperated sigh, Mrs. Harrow placed a hand on Henry’s shoulder and began leading him back down the hallway from which she’d appeared.

  “Come on Henry, we’ll get you some ice.”

  Eddie couldn’t move, he’d become cemented to the floor at some point during his meltdown.

    “Eddie?” Stan’s soft voice penetrated the space between them, but it sounded distant. Anger bubbled up inside Eddie, anger that he wasn’t at all certain how to process.

  “Hey, Eddie, I’m so sorry. You know none of what Bowers said was true, right?”

  Like a kettle blowing its whistle, Eddie’s top popped.

  “OF COURSE IT’S TRUE.”

  Eddie whipped around to face Stan, his cheeks red hot as he filled with steam.

  “I’M GAY, STANLEY. DON’T YOU KNOW? I’M A FUCKING FRUIT CAKE. AND NOT EVEN A GOOD FRUIT CAKE, I’M ONE OF THOSE CHRISTMAS FRUIT CAKES THAT EVERYONE JUST PUTS IN THEIR FREEZER AND FORGETS ABOUT UNTIL SUMMER. THEN THEY THROW ME OUT, BECAUSE NO ONE EVEN LIKES FRUIT CAKE STANLEY.”

  “Hotdogs like fruitcakes.”

  Eddie sputtered; his mind unable to connect the pieces while he was burning red hot.

  “WHAT?”

  He could probably stop yelling, but if Eddie let himself think too long about how he just came out to his best friend, he might melt the rest of the way into the ground and become nothing more than carpeting.

  “Hotdogs. I hear they go well with fruitcakes.” Stan repeated calmly.

  Eddie felt like he was going to combust.

  “What are you-”

  “Richie is your hotdog, right?”

  At the mention of Richie, Eddie’s anger began to simmer down, exhaustion pulling at his muscles. All he could do was nod.

  “Look, Eddie, if it wasn’t obvious enough already, I don’t care that you’re gay. I’m a Jewish boy scout whose nerd repertoire is more extensive than that of most comic book writers, what space do I have to judge.”

  Eddie’s heart rate was settling down, the reassurance from his friend a comforting constant. This was Stanley, he’d never cared what ‘secrets’ Eddie had kept from him before, and this was no different. Well, this was a little different from the time he stole Stan’s pudding cup and then confessed an hour later out of guilt. But even then, Stan had been nothing but understanding.

  “Yeah, he’s the hot dog.” Eddie’s voice was beginning to level out as well, the heat of the moment passing on.

  “Richie isn’t like all those other hot dogs. He’s sure of himself in a way I’ve never met anyone else to be. The way his friends speak about him leaves no doubt in my mind that he has himself figured out; at least enough not to hurt you. He’s one of the good guys, Eddie.”

  “One of the good hotdogs.” Eddie corrected.

  “Yeah, I’m gonna have to drop that now that we’re being transparent with each other. I don’t like having to think about Richie’s… hotdog every time we tiptoe around your metaphor.”

  Eddie’s cheeks blushed a furious shade of fuchsia as his mind also began to wander towards Richie’s hotdog.

  “Richie’s stuck indoors for the next few days too, right?” Stan prompted.

  “Yeah, Mrs. Harrow was pretty clear about that.” Eddie scowled at the memory. “So, you guys are stuck in lockdown together; seems like the perfect romance scenario to me.”

  The more Eddie thought about it, the more things seemed to fall into place. Eddie had been excited about skiing, but what he was more excited about was this budding energy between him and Richie. Mrs. Harrow had unknowingly set up the perfect circumstance for them to spend as much time together as possible, and if Eddie could muster up the courage, he just might try to take advantage of it.

    Stan and Eddie had parted hours ago, but Eddie was just now beginning to rouse back into existence.

  After the fight with Henry, Eddie’s lack of sleep from the night before finally caught up with him. The nap on the bus had been helpful, but not enough to regenerate all the energy he’d lost to his anxiety the past 24 hours. As soon as he’d returned to his room he hadn’t been able to fight it anymore. He’d barely gotten his shoes off before collapsing into the inviting plush bedding and zonking out for three hours.

  Lucky for Eddie, three hours didn’t put him back that much. It was dinner time, but Eddie knew most of the students were prepared to stay on the slopes until the late hours of the night (or at least until teacher enforced curfew).

  Eddie was overheating, having fallen asleep with his winter coat and snow pants on. He was surprised he hadn’t died in his sleep from a layer induced fever. Could that even happen? Well, Eddie wasn’t keen on finding out today. He promptly stripped off the stifling clothing and did the same with his undergarments. While the suffocating layers may not have killed him, they had certainly left him covered in sweat.

  Eddie trailed into the bathroom, catching a glimpse of his naked form in the mirror and stopping. He turned fully towards his reflection, squinting as if sizing himself up.

  He wasn’t very buff, but he was nicely filled out from years of dabbling in sports. He definitely still had a thinner body, his waist dipping in elegantly before flaring back out into hips that, quite honestly, were pretty generous for a man. Eddie didn’t love his body, but who did? Everyone had issues to point out if they took a magnifying glass to themselves, but overall, Eddie was pleased with his appearance.

  He hoped that Richie would be too, if they ever ended up there.

  Eddie turned to the side, assessing his profile. He wondered what it would look like if Richie was slotted in behind him, arms wrapped tight around Eddie’s thin waist to hold him close. The height difference alone would cause Eddie to look small in comparison; Richie was an absolute tree. The thought shouldn’t have made Eddie feel as hot as it did, but he soon found himself heating up again.

  Eddie leaned over the sink, resting his elbows on the edge so he could lean in close to his figure. His cock brushed up against the cold wood surface of the counter and he gasped in surprise, looking down to find it peering up at him in intrigue.

  Eddie’s wonderings about Richie must have gotten him a little more worked up than he’d anticipated.

  Glancing back up at himself in the mirror, Eddie let one hand trail down to the spot between his legs. He grasped himself as he pictured Richie behind him, staring back at him through their reflections with that enticing grin.

  ‘What, Eds. Don’t think I’ll fuck you right here in the bathroom?’

  Eddie moaned quietly to himself, picturing just how he’d respond to Richie’s teasing.

  ‘I bet you won’t, Tozier. Too afraid of someone walking in on us. You’re all talk but no game.’

  Eddie would dangle the challenge in front of Richie knowing full well that he wouldn’t back down. He’d take Eddie’s hips and thrust himself inside without hesitation, just one single move would be all it took for Richie to fill him up.

  Eddie’s wrist cramped from the awkward angle he held it at, but he refused to move from his spot bent over the sink, too caught up in the fantasy.

  He replayed the moans he’d committed to memory the night before, those sinful sounds that Richie seemed to let slip out like he didn’t know they were poisonous darts striking right through Eddie’s skin.

  ‘Richie…’ Eddie moaned, the sound echoing in the empty bathroom.

  ‘Eddie…’ He could hear Richie say, pounding into him at a relentless pace that would leave bruises on Eddie’s skin from where he slammed into the countertop.

  And then Eddie was releasing into his fist, cum pooling over and dripping into the sink. His body shook with shock and his toes curled, eyes squeezing shut as he milked the last bit out of himself before going completely slack.

  He was grateful that counter was there to hold him up, because if not he would have probably fallen to the floor.

  It took a moment for Eddie to finally open his eyes again, but when he did, he was surprised at how disappointed he was that Richie wasn’t actually there. He knew he’d gotten lost in his mind, but it didn’t ease his despondency.

  Eddie stepped into the shower, committing himself to not think about Richie at least until he returned squeaky clean.

    It didn’t work.

  Eddie had thought about Richie the entire shower.

  Eddie tried to let his worry be soothed by Stan’s words, though it continued to flare at the least opportune times. Eddie accepted that he probably wouldn’t be completely placated until he had Richie do it himself, hopefully through tender hands and soothing touches.

  Eddie redressed himself, this time forgoing the heavy layers in favor of a warm wool sweater and comfortable sweatpants. He didn’t bother styling his hair, too set on hunting down Richie to care whether his locks were combed to the left or to the right.

  He quickly pocketed his cellphone and room key, setting off in search of the only other student in the building.

    Eddie didn’t know Richie’s room number, so he took a gamble and wandered into the lobby. There was a pool table in the center of the room, looking lonely as those around it chose to read a book by the fireplace or chat quietly by the windows. There weren’t many people to speak of, so it was easy to quickly spot that familiar face that made Eddie’s heart skip.

  Richie was laying across one of the couches, arms flung across his chest in protest. He was grumbling lowly to the man sitting a seat away, which Eddie recognized as their bus driver.

  “And so, in walks the other prisoner.” Eric drawled as he noticed Eddie, an easy smile on his face.

  Richie’s head popped up quickly, his curls bouncing as they tried to keep up with the swift change in position. Once Richie saw Eddie, the rest of his body followed enthusiastically as he jumped up from his seat.

  “EDDIE!” Richie cheered loudly, before quickly clearing his throat and lowering his voice to a more lobby-appropriate volume. “What are you doing here?”

  “Uhh, I sort of…” Eddie chanced a glance over Richie’s shoulder, noting that Eric wasn’t paying attention to their conversation. “punched Henry Bowers.” He mumbled lowly.

  “YOU WHAT!?”

  “SHHHHH!” Eddie grabbed Richie by the arm and pulled him back down to the couch, looking around them anxiously to see if Richie had drawn any eyes. “It’s not a big deal, okay?” Eddie added once he was sure no one was listening in.

  “Uhm, I’d say punching the guy who’s made everyone’s life a living hell for the past four years counts as a big deal.” Richie challenged.

  Eddie sighed, letting himself lean back into the leather couch as he chewed on his bottom lip. Richie wasn’t wrong, it wasn’t not a big deal, but Eddie wasn’t the violent type. He hadn’t meant to do what he’d done; he’d just snapped. He didn’t regret it, but he didn’t want to dwell on it either, especially since dwelling on it meant remembering all that lead up to it.

  “Can we talk about something else please?” Eddie asked, his voice small and begging.

  Richie was clearly itching for more details, but he still dropped the subject as he copied Eddie’s position sinking into the couch.

  “So, what are you doing here?” Eddie asked, grateful that Richie had respected his request.

  “Eric’s on babysitting duty.” Richie nodded over to Eric who sent them a thumbs up without looking away from his phone. “Mrs. Harrow doesn’t trust me to stay inside.”

  “I mean, to be fair, neither do I.” Eddie mused, a smirk playing on his face.

  Richie bumped his shoulder into Eddie’s, feigning offence even as laughter spilled from his chest.

  “Fine, but at least leave me with something to do, you know? I’m not a convict, I’m injured!” Richie lifted his leg and pointed to his ankle as if to prove his point.

  “As the convict here, I take offense to that.” Eddie teased.

  “Well, Eddie, how do you feel about reformation?” Eric asked. As Eddie regarded him, he saw that Eric had pocketed his phone and was now leaning towards them in engagement.

  Eddie narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Depends on what sort of reformation.”

  “Why don’t you take over guard duty?” Eric offered, nodding towards Richie. “Personally, I’d have let Richie stay in his room anyway, but I was given my orders. If you make sure he doesn’t leave, then at least the two of you can spend your evening watching TV or something. Just don’t let anyone see you outside your rooms, I don’t want to get in trouble for abandoning post. Mrs. Harrow is scary when she’s mad.”

  Eric mimicked a shiver running down his spine before shaking it off, smiling at the two of them warmly.

  “Eric, as per usual, you are the BEST.” Richie cheered.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Richie and Eddie wasted no time before scrambling to their feet and jetting out of the lobby. They didn’t discuss whose room they were going to, but once Richie pressed his floor number on the elevator keypad it was unspoken.

  Eddie was going to be alone in a room with Richie. Unsupervised. For hours.

  Eddie was going to shit his pants.

[strawberrysoup]

Yes, Sheriff || Chapter 3

Sheriff Carol Danvers takes her job of protecting the citizens of her small town very seriously — there are just some that she cares about more than others. A lot more, in fact, and she will take care of her sweet baby girl whether she likes it or not.

relationship: Carol Danvers/Reader rating: Explicit chapters: 3/? length: 3k warnings: Dark Carol Danvers, coercion, manipulation, noncon and dubcon sexual situations, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat additional warnings: open the read more and CTRL + F, search “content warnings” to skip to detailed trigger warnings at the bottom of the chapter. note: another long wait, but here it is! hope y’all enjoy it. remember to reblog and comment! please.

The barstool was incredibly hard and you found yourself wishing for the 8th time in an hour that you were back at home. Carol had managed to coerce you back to her place for the second night in a row, citing collecting your belongings as the bare minimum necessitating your return. You'd grabbed your belongings immediately, having darted inside and into the bedroom before Carol even turned on the lights. Before you could make an escape back to the car though, she'd been quick to pull you into the kitchen and sit you at her breakfast bar. She was puttering around with something on the counter, 'just real quick' she'd said.

She at least hadn’t touched you since picking you up from the library at the end of your shift—a small blessing after she’d nearly made you cry while taking you to the Town Hall and then did make you cry upon returning you to the library. You prayed she couldn’t read your thoughts from your face, hoping you didn’t blush and betray yourself. She’d forced your legs apart while she drove and used some sort of little vibrator on your clit until you gushed, soaking the passenger seat of her cruiser. It had been humiliating but the pleasure was overwhelming and you’d just started to wail when she pulled into the library’s parking lot. 

Carol had been very quick to remind you how lucky you were that she’d forgotten to call Tony about your car, otherwise he would’ve been waiting in the parking lot when the cruiser pulled in. The look on her face had been sincere and soft; you couldn’t even begin to reconcile the ever morphing faces she could exchange at the drop of a hat. She’d run circles around you in the few minutes after that, easily managing to talk you into going to her house later in the evening and she’d gotten that dopey little half smile on her face when you agreed and it gave your stomach butterflies. 

"Get yourself a drink from the fridge baby girl, there's wine and some beers," Carol didn't even look over her shoulder at you, too focused on whatever she was stirring on the stove, "probably a soda."

A shiver ran down your spine, nervous at the tone she'd used; it was an order, not a request. You’d gotten so many of those today, most of which had ended in either pain or humiliation. You quickly stood up and crossed to the fridge, grabbing the half empty 2-liter of coke. It was the only nonalcoholic thing in there and you didn't want to end up in the same situation as the previous night. You hesitated for a moment, glancing back towards Carol.

“Which cabinet are the cups in?”

The smile that slithered over the blonde’s lips was both parts coy and apologetic, “the cabinet next to the sink, over my cutting board. You’ll have to grab it, my hands are dirty.”

She took two measured steps back from where she’d been pressed against the counter top, gesturing to the cabinet that had been right in front of her. An icy cold sensation dripped down your spine, your brain immediately kicking into high gear. It had only been a day, but you’d already come to realize that keeping up with Carol meant staying potentially several steps ahead of where you both agreed to pretend you were. It wasn’t that Carol was smarter than you, or more clever, but she had some sort of underhanded cunningness to her. She was methodical and calculated and you had to figure out how far along in her planned progression of this evening she was and what she was steering you towards, so you could avoid it.

“Baby girl,” the exasperated sigh made you blink, surprise widening your eyes, “could you please come grab your cup? I need to finish this up so it can cook while I take you home.”

Heat rose in your cheeks—you were acting like a freak and the Sheriff was obviously getting tired of it, especially since all you were doing at this point was interrupting her evening and delaying your ride home. Maybe you’d made your disinterest clear enough now and she was just ready for you to be out of her hair. You skirted forward quickly, carefully pressing against the countertop to leave as much space between her body and yours. The smallest glasses were on the lowest shelf and you quickly grabbed one from the front. An embarrassing sound escaped you when her hand brushed your ass, on ‘accident’, of course.

On accident.

Your rational brain struggled. You kept accusing Carol of these things in your mind, of trying to manipulate situations or assault or trap you. Sheriff Carol. You kept accusing Sheriff Danvers of such heinous things and it was baffling.

Carol Danvers was the first outsider to move to Burgess to be entirely accepted by the reputable population (which was most people, with the notable exception of some wife-beaters and a couple of folks who’d gotten busted for cooking meth). She went out of her way on a regular basis, literally daily, to go above and beyond her duty to help the town. You knew for a fact that just today she’d taken Ms. Bea to the grocery store—the older woman’s son was out of town for a few days for a wedding and had asked around to see if anyone could help his mother during his absence. Carol had immediately taken the responsibility, according to Paul. You knew this because you’d gone to school with Paul and he’d called you after hearing about your breakfast date.

Unbeknownst to you, Carol was watching your internal struggle with a wary eye. The same argument had played out before her multiple times today, where you tried to reign yourself in or change an instinctive behavior. It was interesting—you had an incredibly strong gut instinct and it was trying its best to direct your attention to every suspicious thing she’d done. But you had trained yourself to be rational over the years and Occam’s Razor was a wasp stuck in your ear, whispering that it made more sense for you to be misinterpreting the situation rather than her actually having insidious intentions.

The coke was slightly flat when you poured it but you couldn’t have cared less. All you wanted to do was keep her happy for the next ten minutes while she finished whatever it was she had going on. 

“That’s a lot of sugar this late in the evening, don’t you think?” Her voice broke you out of your reverie and your shoulders scrunched up, embarrassment coursing through you. 

“Yeah, probably,” you murmured in response, shifting to dump about half of what you’d poured down the sink; whatever it took to make her happy for the next ten minutes, you could deal. 

“Good girl.” The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, “sit down and relax, I just need a few minutes.” 

Returning to the barstool hurt your ass and your soul. The waiting was agonizing. You finished your drink relatively quickly and found yourself absently watching the glass reflect light while she continued to putter around. Your attention peaked when she put a lid on the pot and started washing her hands. 

“You should go grab your bag, I’ll be ready in a minute,” she called over her shoulder and you immediately darted out into the living room, shifting the strap over your shoulder and standing next to the front door. 

Carol was only a few seconds behind you, grabbing her keys off the table by the door and opening it for you. Thor was outside again, likely having worked a similar shift to Carol, and was mowing his lawn. The blond’s exchanged waves but you barely noticed, swiftly stepping up to the passenger side door before stopping patiently. It took a second before you realized she’d stopped moving too and was instead just standing there, smiling at you. 

“Uhh—” 

“Sorry baby girl, I spaced out a little,” she shuffled into your space, one hand curling around to the small of your back while she opened the door with the other, “watch your head.” 

This would hopefully be the last time you ended up in Carol’s cruiser. She’d called Tony after returning to you the library and he had arrived sometime in the afternoon to tow away your car. He’d couldn’t make any promises but assumed he should be able to fix whatever was wrong tomorrow. Luckily Monday was your day off and you didn’t need to be anywhere you couldn’t walk to. 

“You have my personal number right, in case you need a ride anywhere?” The blonde asked, once again featuring a brutally sincere smile, “I wouldn’t mind hearing from you, even if you don’t need anything.” 

“I-I’ll keep it in mind,” your eyes flashed from her face to the road ahead apprehensively; thank God she’d waited until the ride was more than half over, there was no way you could hold a convincing conversation while your heart raced so fast it almost made you dizzy. 

“I’ll walk you up to your door,” Carol had gotten out and was on her way around the front of the car before you could respond beyond a nod, opening your door and holding out her hand to help you up, “is that Mr. Taylor?” 

Your eyes followed hers as she pulled you to her feet, finding your neighbor puttering around in his yard with the last vestiges of light from the day. He’d owned one of the local bakeries and you had practically grown up on his pastries. 

“Yes,” you swallowed when Mr. Taylor seemed to notice you both, waving kindly from across the way with the blonde returning the gesture. 

“Alright, up you go,” she ordered with a smile, one hand settling onto the small of your back to nudge you up the steps to your porch, “I’m gonna wait until I hear the lock.” 

It was so thoughtful your brain swirled. Was it thoughtful or was she pretending? What kind of idiot were you to think she was pretending? 

“Have a good night, Carol,” you offered the parting words quietly after stepping over the threshold, “thanks for your help.” 

Help was kind of a stretch, if you were being honest with yourself. It had been one of the most stressful days you’d had in ages and you were so tired, all you could think to do was grab a bottle of red from the kitchen and take it to your room. You weren’t hungry but the wine would help you make it through your shower because no matter how exhausted you were, there was no way you could go to sleep feeling as dirty as you did. 

Luckily you managed to get through the whole thing on your feet, occasionally reaching out through the curtain to grab the neck of the wine bottle and take a swig. The combination of the alcohol and steam enhanced your drowsiness and you yawned, quickly rinsing off before getting out of the shower. You barely managed to squeeze some of the water out of your hair before collapsing into bed and almost immediately passing out. 

Carol had arrived home by the time you fell asleep, moving quickly to empty the 2 liter of coke down the drain. She’d put a carefully measured amount of rohypnol in the bottle, knowing she’d be able to monitor the amount you imbibed. It had seemed to be just barely starting to kick in when she’d walked you up to your door, your eyes not quite as focused as usual. It wouldn’t take long before you were firmly knocked out for the next 10 to 12 hours. 

She’d been on edge the entire time you’d spent in the kitchen, having no idea if you would follow the steps she’d set out in her head. You were very intelligent but had been conditioned by small town living, as most people had, to operate on the belief that everyone was inherently good unless proven otherwise. Carol learned it was hard to manipulate someone who outmatched her in intelligence, even with the social handicap offered by societal expectations. 

The empty coke bottle was filled with bleach and water before she threw it in the trash, the cup you used receiving the same treatment before going into  the dishwasher. It was unlikely that Carol would ever come up as a viable suspect but she wouldn’t take the risk of not destroying evidence. She passed the next few hours cleaning, turning all of the lights out around 11 pm. Thor’s went off not half an hour later and she took that as her cue; he’d seen her arrive home after dropping you at your place, it wasn’t an alibi but it did lend credit to her story. 

The nice thing about the way the houses were arranged in Burgess was the trees that surrounded most properties; it was so windy that the trees were necessary to protect the houses from damage. They provided excellent camouflage as Carol silently walked to your house from hers, winding between branches and making a mental note that she needed to be encouraging people to clean up the debris that had fallen. No need to potentially feed another fire.

The lights in most of the houses were out and Carol avoided the ones that weren’t. It extended her walk a few minutes, especially when she had to go wide around Mr. Taylor’s house. It was easy to break the lock on the backdoor though, even as new and well maintained as her baby’s house was. The blonde dropped her head back on her shoulders as soon as it closed behind her, sighing in relief. It was incredibly unlikely anyone would see her but it was still an adrenaline rush—she hadn’t been involved in such delinquent activities since she was a teenager.

The house was cute, just like her girl. There were little rose accents in the classic little farm house kitchen, lace pillows and curtains in the living room, fairy lights trailing up the banister to the second floor. It was also very obviously rarely used; there was no wear on the floors, no clutter, the refrigerator was practically empty and the pantry looked similar. The only evidence she saw of her girl was the cork from a wine bottle on the kitchen floor, just shy of the trashcan and a purse hanging next to the front door.

Carol hummed quietly to herself as she roamed, grabbing a knife from the block in the kitchen and wandering into the living room. The first thing she did was cut up the sofa and arm chair, ripping out the stuffing and repeating the action with the throw pillows. She scooped every row of books off each shelf on the many bookshelves in the living room, leaving the books in piles at her feet. The pictures and knickknacks went with them, some shattering against the hard wood floor.

Her baby wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon, no matter how much noise and Carol took advantage of that by knocking a flower vase off a side table. Water and glass went everywhere, the sound jarring in the silent house. She grabbed the purse off the hook and tipped the contents out, stealing the wallet from inside and dumping the rest on the floor. The main floor was mostly for show and she continued up the stairs, where she could already hear soft breaths coming from the bedroom.

She was passed out face down on her bed, a towel somewhat wrapped around her body. Carol smiled, it was too easy and she was thrilled by her baby’s current state but focused on destruction first. She grabbed the jewelry off the dresser, pulled out and emptied all of the drawers. Her attention got caught on the top drawer, filled with panties and bras and socks. That one was left in the dresser, but Carol made sure that her rummaging was noticeable and stole at least three pairs of panties. She took a few more ‘valuables’, anything that looked like it might fetch some cash at a pawn shop that was also easy to carry, before turning her attention back to the lovely little drugged up baby girl in the bed.

The towel was dispatched quickly and Carol smiled at the sight of her still reddened little ass. It had been a lasting spanking and the blonde enjoyed seeing the results of her labor.

“Spread your legs baby,” she cooed into the silent evening, easily shifting y/n until her knees were tucked up under her torso, spread wide for the best angle, “let’s take some pretty pictures, huh?”

Carol must’ve taken a hundred pictures; some with her fingers seated deeply in her baby’s pussy, some with her fingers breaching that tight little asshole. The pièce de résistance being the fifteen minute long video the blonde recorded after turning y/n onto her back, leisurely riding the younger woman’s face until it was dripping with Carol’s arousal. She had to be careful when she started to cum, forcing herself not to smother her baby with her cunt—she couldn’t get carried away.

“That was good baby girl,” she murmured reaching between her legs and scooping her cum onto her hand, spreading it on her lips and tongue, “I’ll be the first thing you taste when you wake up. You’ll be the last thing I taste before I go to sleep, sound fair?”

Feasting on her baby’s pussy wasn’t nearly as fun when she wasn’t awake to thrash and cry at the overstimulation and mind-blowing orgasm. She made her cum twice anyway, forcing herself not to lick up the mess dripping from her pussy. Her baby girl would wake up in the morning with her own cum dripping out of her, naked and spread wide on the bed. All of Carol’s cum and arousal was beginning to dry on her pretty face, sticky and shiny in the light of the moon.

It would be hard to stay in bed until she received the phone call, that her baby’s house had been broken into and burglarized and she had potentially been assaulted. There would be no viable evidence, no fingerprints or unexplained hairs. The cum smeared on her baby’s face would be washed away in panic the moment she noticed something amiss, washing the evidence down the drain. Even if something did make it back to the station, it would obviously pass her desk. Maybe she’d set someone in town up to take the fall, like that shitty mechanic Hammer who’d scammed her when she first moved into town.

All she needed was the rose colored glasses to remain for a little longer, to mislead her baby for a few more weeks.

That was all it would take, after all.

content warnings: non-consensual (all of the following) somnophilia, vaginal and anal fingering, face riding, cum play, drugging, nudes, manipulation.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

I can help protect you; Scott Lang x child reader

*Author’s note*

Hey all wow it’s been awhile since I posted a fic that wasn’t BoRhap/Queen related but now here I am with a request that has literally been sitting in my phone for almost a year now. For @randomfandoms-k8​ I wanna say thank you for being soooooooooo patient with me. But finally I came down to write your Scott Lang request. I hope you like it and enjoy it :)

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@platawnic​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@randomfandoms-k8​

__________________________________________________________

Day 143. Sunday afternoon, well technically it’s 11:55am but time seems to go by slowly when you’re under house arrest, in fact time is an irrelevant mesh isn’t it? Wow didn’t know I could go that deep into philosophy.  But anyways it’s been 143 days since I was sentenced to my 2yr house arrest after I sided with Cap back in Germany against Stark.

Honestly, this beats having to deal with prison again, this time it would’ve been in an ocean of solitary confinement.  I would’ve gone mad had I screwed up my chances of seeing Cassie again. She’s helped make this house arrest more bearable and honestly a lot more fun.  But currently her and her mom along with Paxton went North to visit Maggie’s parents who hadn’t seen Cassie in a while.

Which left me here. Alone. With no one to really entertain.  I mean sure Luis and the guys come over every once in awhile but they’re business forming up their own business.  Apparently they’re next bright idea was selling security equipment. Not that I’m complaining at all, they’re good guys to have around every now and then but—they can be a bit much at times.

I know not really making much sense am I? Well that kinda happens whenever you’re stuck in your house all day and night.

Right now it was trash day so I gathered up all the trash and proceeded to head outside to put my trashcan out (as best I could without triggering my ankle bracelet). Now I’m thinking this is gonna be just a simple in and out type situation, as it always is, but as I went out towards the trashcans that I kept in the backyard there was a sudden bang.

At first I thought it was a gunshot but it sounded way to close.  Plus as I looked towards my trashcans, I thought I saw something move behind them.

“Hello?” I called out.  There was another loud bang from behind the trashcans and I continued saying, “Look I’m unarmed. If you want money you won’t find much. But if you just want food, I can give it to you.” yeah I know that was probably stupid of me to say but most of the time you will see some homeless person going through the trash in this part of the city.

Soon coming out from behind the trashcan wasn’t an adult, but a small child.  She appeared to be a couple years younger than Cassie, her (h/c) hair was long and madded like a rat’s nest, and she looked pretty dirty like she hadn’t bathed in weeks, maybe months.  But what shocked me the most was how skinny she looked.  She wore clothes that were twice her size, it was like she was just drowning in them.

“Hey, hey sweetheart.” She backed away fearfully and tried to hide behind the trashcans once more. “No, no, no hey. It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. See?” he sat down on the ground so that he wouldn’t intimidate her.  Then using one of his new hobbies that he had to learn while in house arrest, he made a fake bouquet of flowers come out from his back.

It peeked her interest as she slowly came out from behind the trashcan.  A soft smile spread across her face.

“Here you know, I think I got something better than what you’ll find in there.” I quickly raced inside and got out the leftover pizza box I had from last night. I took out a single slice of the pepperoni and quickly placed it in the microwave for about 15 seconds before coming back outside.

I sat back down and said to the small girl.

“You like pizza?” she looked at me before nodding softly. “Then have a bite of this. At least here it smells fresh and not mixed in with some other stuff and god knows what else.” The little girl slowly walked towards me, staring at the pizza. She would every now and then look up between me and the pizza. “It’s okay sweetheart, it’s not poisoned or anything.”

I broke off the tip of it and ate it to show her that it wasn’t poisoned or tampered with in anyway.

“See? Just a little hot but it’s all good.” Finally she raised her hands and took the pizza from the plate.  She sniffed it before taking a small bite.  Slowly her eyes widened with pure joy as she continued to devour the pizza. “Whoa hey slow down there kiddo, you’re gonna choke if you just inhale it like that.” I warned her.

She quickly looked up at me before looking down shamefully down, a slight glint of tears forming at the corner of her eyes.

“It’s okay. I’m not mad. I just didn’t want you to choke on it. You can keep eating.” She looked down at her pizza and went back to eating it.

Once she finished it, I took the plate back from her and asked her.

“Was that good?” she nodded. “You know if you’d like, I’ve got some juice or something for you in case you’re thirsty.” She looked up at me with those big (e/c) eyes of hers as she tilted her head to the side.  Oh wow that sounds a little creepy doesn’t it? “I promise I’m not gonna hurt you. I’ve got a daughter just a little over your age and I don’t know maybe you both might like the same stuff. Cause I—can’t really leave the house.”

I showed her my ankle bracelet and she looked down at it before looking back up at me. I held out my hand to her and she looked down at it.

“I promise, I’m not going to hurt you. Do you trust me?” she was silent but I soon saw her reach out her hand and she placed her tiny hand into mine.  I gently closed my hand over hers as I then led her on inside.

Once we were inside, I poured her a glass of apple juice (Cassie loves apple juice) so hopefully this kid loves it too.  As she began to drink the juice, so many questions kept running through my mind. Where did she come from? Who was she? How did she get like this? Where were her parents? Things like that.

Should I call someone? Child services maybe? I don’t know. Maybe I’ll sleep on that for tonight.  Maybe I can get some answers out of her.

“Hey sweetie,” she turned to face me. “Do you have a name? I mean I can’t just keep calling you sweetie, sweetheart or munchkin can I?” at that point she looked down sadly.  Her hands fiddling with the oversized shirt, oh no. Is—is she an orphan? Or, and I pray to God this isn’t the case, did her parents abandon her. “Can you speak sweetheart?”

She shook her head no.  Okay so she wasn’t deaf cause she’s actually responding to me. So was she mute? Or was she choosing not to speak.

“Well, think I should tell you me name first so that way we’re not strangers anymore. I’m Scott. Scott Lang.” I came up to her and held out my hand for a handshake now.  She softly smiled and shook my hand.  

Okay good progress we’re getting there.

“Hey, since uhh—since you can’t talk. How bout I give you a name? Is that okay with you?” she nodded and that’s when I grabbed my phone and went through some websites for the top 100 baby names for girls.  “Okay let’s see, how about…….Belle?” she shook her head no. “Ariel?” again she shook her head. “Don’t make me choose Cinderella.” She then gave me a stank face as her tongue stuck out and I softly laughed. “I’m just playing yah kiddo. Here let’s see what this list has.”

I scrolled through the website trying to find the perfect name for her.  Soon a name that felt like it belonged to her came on the list and I said to her.

“Okay, how do you feel about (Y/n)?” her eyes widened and a smile came across her face as she nodded happily. “Alright, (Y/n) it is then.”

After we settled on her name, I took her up to the bathroom to get her cleaned up (couldn’t let her remain dirty forever right?).  By some miracle I managed to get her once madded rat’s nest of hair under control, and now that she was all clean I got a better look at this little cutie.

She had a little button-like nose, her eyes now sparkled with new life now that she no longer looked like she had a raccoon mask of dirt on her eyelids.

Her chubby cheeks that showed two little dimples whenever she smiled.  She looked like a brand new girl.  Once she was all dried up, I put her into some of Cassie’s old clothes (thank god I managed to convince Maggie to let me do the Good will run. That I may have forgotten to do before I was picked to join Cap’s team in Germany).

By late afternoon, we were now currently watching some cartoons together when I decided that maybe I could make her laugh at something.  Of course she smiled every now and then but there was something in her eyes that really showed me that she was still sad about something.

Being the dad that I am I know I hate it whenever my Peanut is upset, so I make it my life’s mission to always make Cassie laugh at least once a day (once I got out of prison that was).  I got up from the couch acting like I was gonna grab a drink of water but what I was really gonna grab was my magic cards, the eye-popping glasses, and clown wig.

I put the clown wig on as well as the glasses and suddenly jumped in front of her holding out the deck of cards.

“Pick a card, any card!” I proclaimed.  She looked at me oddly but looked down at the deck and picked a single card from the deck. “Memorize the card. Okay now put it back, face down don’t let me see it.” She did as she was told.

I then shuffled the deck behind my back trying to mix the cards up till I thought it was good enough.  I brought the deck back out in front of us and I said.

“Okay (n/n), now I’m gonna brush through the cards and you tap the cushion twice when you want me to stop, K?” she nodded and that’s when I began dealing through the cards.  I heard her pat the cushion and I stopped at the 14th card.  I took it out from the deck and held it in my hand. “Alright, now was this your card?” I turned it over to her.

She shook her head no.  I turned it towards me and saw that it was the Jack of clubs.

“Wait what? Now where did that…..oh man I must really be losing my eyes if I misplaced it.” I then pressed the button on the glasses and soon the eyes on the glasses popped out.

At that point I heard her starting to laugh.  Not giggle, but a real laugh.  Her laughter slowly grew in volume but what was surprising was that I began to see the lights starting to flicker on and off.  As she then let out this one shriek of laughter, the lights suddenly exploded and the entire house went dark.

When the power went off throughout the entire house, to say I was freaked out a bit would be a bit of an understatement.  Now whether I can confirm or deny that I may have shrieked like a girl, I’ll just say I got a little spooked by it.

I looked back down at (Y/n) who was now covering her mouth and trying to sink further into the couch.  Wow, so—she’s like a real life Boo (you know that little toddler from Monster’s Inc.)  (Y/n) has powers.  Oh my god I just took in a child that has powers. Wow never thought this is how my house arrest would turn out.

“That—that was you wasn’t it?” I wanted to confirm it with her.  Cause maybe this could be a hallucination or something. Maybe the power did go off on its owe—oh who am I kidding, it was (Y/n) that did this.  When I saw her nod sadly she got off the couch and solemnly walked towards the backdoor.  “Whoa, whoa, whoa hey. Where do you think you’re going?” I said as I stopped her and knelt down beside her.

Her sad, teary eyes stared right at me and that’s when I asked her.

“Did—did you think I would get mad and kick you out if I found out about this?” she nodded, her eyes refusing to meet mine.  “(Y/n), sweetie I’m not mad. So what if you have powers, it’s cool. That means now I get to nickname you Boo. You ever seen Monster’s Inc?” she shook her head no. “Okay we’ll fix that up. It was one of Cassie’s favorite movies growing up, I think you’ll like it.”

I stroked some of the hair out of her face.  I knew at this rate with her having powers, there was no way I can get Child services involved.  Now that the Accords (still don’t really know the entirety of them all I know is that they’re bad for super heroes) had been finalized, they could take her away to that Raft prison that’s out in the middle of the ocean and lock her up.  But she’s only a kid, she doesn’t deserve that fate.

“Kiddo I’m not mad. In fact can I tell you a secret?” she nodded.  I quickly looked around to make sure we were alone (which made her quietly giggle) I gestured with my finger for her to lean closer as I whispered to her, “I’m a super hero.” Her eyes widened in shock. “Yep. My alter ego, is Ant-Man.” At this point she looked at me confused, “What you’ve never heard of Ant-Man?” she shook her head no. “Alright, well we’ll fix that too.”

I guided her back towards the living room and sat her down on the couch and I sat down beside her.  I gently stroked down her hair and assured her again.

“You’ll be safe here (Y/n). Whatever it was that you had to deal with before, or being rejected or whatever, you won’t have it here. I can protect you. And maybe once my 2 years are up, maybe just maybe……I can introduce you to some people who could help you control those powers of yours.”

Her eyes lit up as her face almost screamed out ‘for real?’

“Yeah kiddo. I promise, no one is gonna hurt you ever again.” At that point she hugged me.  I smiled softly down at her and gently embraced her back.

Call me crazy I know but I can’t kick her back out into the streets. Besides I’ve been experienced to enough craziness already from when I first met Hank and Hope, to fighting alongside Team Cap against Stark, so why not? And like I said, I don’t know what the CS would do if they found out she had powers, either lock or up or just kill her (now that’s messed up but I’m told it happens).

But hey, on the bright side at least Cassie will get to be the older sister she always wished she could be.

[lesbian-deadpool]

Christmas Lights

Natasha Romanoff X reader

Words: 1,101

Warnings: Falling. Swearing. Natasha wanting to kill Tony? That’s it.

Request: No.

Summary: Falling can sometimes lead to something amazing.

A/N: This is the first bit of inspiration I’ve had to finish a fic in a long time. Thanks to writer's block. So I hope it’s good! I guess I should also thank the Pentatonix Christmas playlist for giving me inspiration for this, too lol.

(Not My GIF)

***

“C’mon, Romanoff! Put your back into it!”

“I’m trying, Tony!” Natasha yelled over her shoulder from where she balanced on the tip of her toes, upon the high ladder.

Putting the Christmas lights up on the Tower was turning out to be a much harder task than she first thought. She didn't think that her main annoyance would be the fact that she couldn't reach more than a few feet either side of her, thanks to her small height. And she was just stubborn enough, to not want to walk down the ladders and back up them, every five minutes.

The men by her sides having much more luck than she was. She had never once envyed Thor and Steve, but she did now. And it was solely for their height.

The other Avengers -who were not busy, with their families, or out shopping for holiday gifts- stood around, watching, talking to the “small” crowd of fans, or trying to shoo away the paparazzi and their flashing cameras.

“I don’t understand why you don’t just use your suit to do this!”

“Because, the last time I did, I accidentally ended up setting the lights on fire!”

“How?!” Natasha asked exasperatedly, looking straight down at the man, who had replaced Clint, who had to go back to his family, in holding her ladder steady, looking up at her bashfully.

“I kinda, maybe, triggered my repulsers,” Tony muttered childishly, but Natasha had still heard him anyway. Rolling her eyes, she continued with her task at hand.

She had managed to get a few more inches stuck onto the building before she began wobbling again. Yelling down at Tony, she said, “Tony, keep a tight hold on the ladder!”

“Sorry!” he apologised, “But you’re a ballerina! Shouldn't you be good at balancing?!”

“Trained as a ballerina! Trained as!” Natasha clarified.

“Anyway.” Tony shrugged, making the ladder shake again.

“Tony!” she growled.

“Sorry! Sorry! Forgot.”

Natasha grumbles to herself, reaching back over to the sleek Tower.

“Hey, Petie! Come hold Nat’s ladder, I gotta go call Pep!”

“Sure thing, Mr Stark!”

Natasha rolled her eyes and sighed. Bracing herself for the wobbly switch. Which, apparently, was much wobblier than expected. Causing Natasha to lose her balance and fall from the ladder.

It had been a nice walk. Well, of what you could remember of it, considering that you had been dazed out for the last fifteen minutes or so. The air was cold, so cold that with every breath you took, you would exhale a cloud of white smoke. The only thing managing to finally pull you from your long trance, being the woman in front of you. Your instincts kicking in and taking over, without you realising. To catch the red-head now laying in your arms.

Blinking, you slowly looked down to her, finding her already peering up at you. Confusion etched on both of your faces. You realized who she was, in record time.

“Well,” you started, with a small smirk on your face, “It seems that it’s the civilians turn to save you.”

Natasha rolled her eyes at you, only now did you notice the flashing lights around you, relentlessly firing off towards you and the Black Widow in your arms, making you go slightly blind.

“Maybe I should put you down now...”

“Yeah, maybe you should,” Natasha agreed, nodding her head.

Gently, you withdrew your arm that sat under her legs, letting her feet hit the curb. Retracting your other hand from her back, using it to rub at your increasingly saw eyes.

“Nice reflexes you got there,” Tony Stark said.

“Thanks.” You glanced at Natasha, who was glaring daggers at the man. “But I really think you should start running now.”

Tony looked between you and Natasha, backing up slowly.

“Yeah, I think you’re right.” And with that, he was off. Sprinting down the crowded New York sidewalk, with Natasha hot o his heels.

“I’m going to kill you, Stark!”

***

A knock sounded at your door, you had expected it to be the food you ordered. You did not expect it to be what you found.

Natasha Romanoff.

The Russian Avenger stood in your doorway. Smile upon her face, scarf wrapped tightly around her neck, and her hands stuffed deep into her coat pockets.

She spoke before you could. Pulling her phone from her pocket, switching it on to show you the article on her screen. One with a picture of her in your arms as the header.

“It seems that most of the world thinks we’re together.” Pushing her phone back into her packet, she shrugged, continuing, “That. Or they want us to be.”

“I know. I just got off the phone with my mom, explaining to her that we’re not actually together. And that you wouldn’t be coming to Christmas dinner.”

Natasha laughed at your words, eyes shining brightly under the lights of your apartment buildings hallway.

Taking a breath in recovery, Natasha faced you once again.

“I just came to say ‘thank you’, you have some great instincts.”

“Thanks.” You smiled, before shaking your head. “‘Nd it was nothing. There’s no need to thank me.”

“Tough. You’re getting it. Thank you.”

You sighed. “You're welcome... wait. How do you even know where I live?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow up at you pointedly.

“Right. Stupid question.”

The next few seconds were spent just smiling warmly at each other, you could have spent forever like that. And you knew she felt the same.

And you would have. If not for the whistling, suddenly getting cut off as it founded the corner, interrupting you. Drawing your attention from one another.

“Uhh...” the delivery guy sounded, glancing between you and Natasha. With the blush that coated his cheeks, you knew he had seen the articles about the two of you.

Snapping out of his own trance, just as fast as he entered it, pointing to the bag in his hand, he asked you, “Delivery for Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” You nodded accepting to food from him.

Natasha was still there as he left, peeing over his shoulder at you both.

Clearing your throat, you raised the bag full of Chinese food into Natasha’s eyesight, “Wanna stay for dinner?”

“Will there be enough?”

“Ah, well that’s the thing about me. I order enough to feed an army.”

You would never get sick of making her laugh, you soon decided, as you watched her chuckle again.

“Sure,” Natasha smirked, “I’d love to stay for dinner.”

Moving aside to let her in, you knew this was the start of something special.

[donghyuwus]

Jisung | CampTripping

pairing: jisung x fem reader (you could see at as gender neutral if you just skip the swimsuit part)

genre: fluff + tiniest sparkle of angst, but just mostly cheesy stuff :)

warnings: swearing, mention of bugs, cuts and bruises (not in a harmful way but just in case someone might find that triggering)

words: 6996 (my longest fic yet, wow)

authors note: well hello there, welcome back to me. it’s been a while since i’ve written stuff so please excuse me and this cheesy work. i hope you guys will still enjoy it though and if you have some feedback pls leave me an ask or a reply. also hehe the title is genius, i love myself

disclaimer: english is not my first language so sorry for my spelling or grammar mistakes, i tried my best.

Maybe it was the weather, warm and sunny, it almost felt like the sun was smiling directly towards you. Maybe it was the fact that today went by so perfectly, you were the most productive you ever have been, got all the things done you wanted to and even got time left for yourself. Or maybe, just maybe it was because you were going on a trip with your friend group tomorrow. Whatever it was you were in the best mood you have been in a while.

Humming along with the speaker in your room you packed the last few things for tomorrow. Honestly it surprised you that you were this excited. You weren’t much of a camping person honestly and that you were so looking forward to this almost scared you, to a point you had to tell yourself all the downsides that came with camping. Setting up a tent would be much work and very annoying, also there would probably be bugs, loads of them. A few days ago you searched up the weather predictions for the place you were going to and it was going to be hot, so that meant sweaty and sticky times. Besides that who knew what would be out there in the woods, maybe you should search that up later. Talking about woods, you had two left feet so that would mean coming back with lots of cuts and bruises. But even though you had said that to yourself so many times to get a realistic outlook on things and not be disappointed in the end, you still were extremely excited and almost couldn’t wait.

You were just closing up your bag when your music stopped and instead a ‘ping’ came trough the speakers, indicating that you had a message. You stopped what you were doing and grabbed your phone from the nightstand, expecting some spam from the group chat you were in. Surprised you stared at the message from someone who you didn’t expect.

‘Wanna go shopping?’ - Jisung

Looking over at the time you noticed it was already 8:27 pm. The shops would close soon, why would he want to go shopping now? And why with you? Lately Jisung wouldn’t talk or hangout with you much when the two of you were alone. You used to though. You two were almost inseparable, you loved hanging out with him and he with you. From all of your friends you could definitely call him your best friend, he was always there for you through all your ups and downs, mood swings and hard days. He was an angel. Jisung didn’t talk very much but the two of you always knew what was on each others minds. It was almost scary. You shared everything with him, he knew about your darkest secrets, crushes you had and embarrassing memories. And you knew everything about him, the fact that he was afraid of cockroaches to the fact that he deep down was a big iron man fan and maybe had some merchandise hanging around his room here and there. You found it cute, Jisung overall was very cute. However someday he got a little distant, you two had an argument a few days before that, but you knew deep down that wasn’t the reason he was acting like that. There must have been something else, but as you were trying to figure it out, Jisung only became more distant and distant. The two of you still talked, you were in the same friend group after all, but he didn’t speak to you as much when the two of you were alone. Let alone ask you to hangout with him and chill at his place. It mad you sad but you weren’t going to push him. You gave him his time but he never fully reached back to you until now. Whatever it was he wanted to buy right now, you were up for it and texted him back that you would meet him at the convenience store that your group would usually meet before shopping. Quickly you ran downstairs and grabbed your summer jacket, giving yourself a few glances in the mirror before leaving, making sure you looked okay. Why were you suddenly so lightheaded? You gave yourself one last glance in the mirror and noticed how red your cheeks were. The weather was clearly getting to you.

When you arrived at the store you noticed he was already waiting for you. Leaning against the wall next to the store, with one foot up to it making him lean backwards. He was wearing a simple white t-shirt and a denim jacket paired with black jeans and white sneakers. It was a simple outfit, yet it looked like high-fashion on him. His brown hair hanging over his forehead and covering it while he looked down at his phone. Your heart felt a little sore, you missed him, a lot. You didn’t even notice you stopped in your tracks and were staring, until a middle-aged man bumped into you and yelled at you for being in his way before stomping off. When you looked back at Jisung you noticed he was laughing, he had noticed the scene and clearly found it entertaining.

‘Distracted?’ He asked, clearly not knowing he was the distraction. ‘A little.’ You confessed a little embarrassed. A laugh escaped his mouth again before he shook his head and grabbed your hand. ‘Come on, we have some shopping to do if we don’t wanna starve tomorrow.’ A frown appeared on your face, because of what he said, but especially because of him holding your hand and taking you with him to the store. What was up with him all of the sudden. The last time he held your hand was such a long time ago. Were you always this nervous and excited when he did it? Maybe you just needed to get used to it again. ‘Didn’t you guys already buy food for the trip yesterday?’ He chuckled. ‘With Haechan ‘watching over it until we go’,’ he made quotation marks in the air, ‘there isn’t much left. Plus I want us to have our own food just in case. You know how the boys are.’ You nodded absentmindedly, your mind covering the word ‘us’ over and over again. It felt nostalgic.

The next day you woke up to the sound of a car honking. Confused you grabbed your phone to check the time. Shit, shit, shit. Quick you ran to your window and looked down. There they were, the two cars, waiting for your overslept self. You mumbled out a few curse words while you tried to dress yourself as decently as you could and fixed the bird nest that was on your head. While brushing your teeth you went over the events of yesterday. You packed your bag, went shopping with Jisung, he walked you home, you were confused, set 3 alarms and eventually stayed up ‘till 4 because your mind wouldn’t stay silent. Fuck, you slept trough all 3 alarms. You noticed the dark circles under your eyes but there wasn’t time to fix any of them cause one of the cars was back at honking. ‘Coming, coming.’ If they would hear you, you yelled out. Quickly you grabbed your bags before rushing out the door into the car that you were assigned to on the road there.

‘So, so. You took your time.’ Renjun spoke, annoyance having the main focus in his tone. He set the car in reverse and drove off your driveway, following Mark who was the driver of the other car. Guilt made it’s way into you. ‘I’m sorry, I set three alarms. I truly don’t know how this could have happened.’ A sigh escaped your lips when none of them answered, you looked over beside you and to your surprise it was Jisung sitting next to you instead of Jeno. Usually Jisung loved sitting in the front seat and refused to sit at the back, his reasoning was that he felt like the oldest sitting at the front and of course because of the aux-cable. But at this moment he was sitting beside you and was giving you a reassuring smile. You knew what kind of ride this would be so you sat back and closed your eyes, listening to the music Jeno was putting on. Honestly you were glad that on the ride there, so early in the morning, you had the quiet group with you in the car. It gave you some time to think, look at the landscaping out of the window, listen to and enjoy the music and maybe sleep a little.

You didn’t know how much time had passed by when you woke up from your nap. Finally you had caught up a bit of sleep and you felt a lot better. After you rubbed your eyes and looked out of the window you noticed the car was standing still, that’s when you also noticed that the two front seats were empty. They had stopped at a gas station. Shifting your gaze to your left to see if you were the only one in the car, you locked eyes with Jisung, Honestly not expecting him to be here you almost, almost let out a little scream but instead you just puffed out some air. ‘Fuck, Jisung. You really scared me there.’ A laugh came out of him. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to.’ It went silent and he stared at his feet while you stared out the window beside you. It was bugging you how unusual times like these had become to the both of you. You were getting foreign to this just talking about him about absolute nonsense. Maybe you should try and start a conversation again and see how it goes from there. So you did.

‘How long have they been gone?’ Surprised he looked up to you and for a split second a smile appeared on his face, before being replaced with his neutral face. ‘Uhh, about 15 minutes now I think. The cars needed to be tanked, Jeno and Chenle really needed to pee and the other guys just wanted some food and a break from sitting in the car.’ You nodded while you took in his words. ‘Why didn’t you go with them.’ There was a pause before he answered. ‘I don’t know, just didn’t feel like getting up.’ You didn’t buy any of it. ‘Sure. Usually you love getting all kind of ridiculously expensive food in there and making Mark pay for it, you’re not fooling anyone.’ He chuckled. ‘Okay, okay. I wanted to wait here for if you woke up. I’m sure you would be hungry and thirsty so I could make sure you were okay.’ A smile creeped on your face, you couldn’t help it. ‘That’s sweet but I can grab the food myself, you know?’ That seemed to struck him. ‘Oh. Oh, yeah, that’s true. Wow that is stupid of me.’ ‘It’s okay, it’s still sweet.’ You smiled at him and he smiled back, looking absolutely stunning, the sunlight shining trough his window, hitting him from the back, making him look like an absolute angel. For a moment you found yourself staring again, but he snapped you out of it, asking you if you wanted something to drink and eat. That’s when you noticed that you were indeed craving something. So he scooted closer to you and shared some of his sandwiches and candy the two of you bought yesterday. While eating he started a conversation with you this time and you both laughed and talked until Jeno and Renjun came back. And even after that he stayed on his spot right beside you, leg touching leg, shoulder touching shoulder. You tried to remember the last time you were this close to him, it had been a while, you had to get used to it again because your heart wasn’t giving you an easy time going so rapidly. It gave you a weird feeling, inhaling his cologne, hearing his laugh so close to your ear, seeing him smile from up close. It almost made you dizzy. Maybe you were carsick.

After a few more hours of driving and stopping here and there, you arrived at the camping spot. It was located at an open spot, in the middle of the woods, lucky for you there was one main road and a few tinier paths leading up to the big spot. When you stepped out it directly was showtime, you had been driving for so long that the sun was already setting, so all of you had to get to work and set up the tents quickly before it would be dark. They had brought 3 tents with them so it was some work but it eventually all was set up in time. After setting up the tents Mark and Jeno went out to look for some branches and sticks for a campfire, Renjun and Chenle were unpacking their stuff and getting out the food while Haechan and Jaemin went out to explore the woods and promised to be back on time and not get lost. You were busy putting your sleeping bag and your other bags and necessities in your tent when Jisung walked in and put his stuff next to yours. Startled you stopped what you were doing and looked over at him. He noticed your eyes on him almost directly. ‘What?’ You could see his cheeks getting rosy. ‘Isn’t Haechan supposed to sleep beside me this trip?’ A cough came up his throat and he looked caught. ‘Uhh, wel yeah, about that. Let’s say it like that, Haechan doesn’t want to sleep next to you anymore. He thinks you won’t be as much fun.’ You stared at him and blinked once or twice, processing his words. ‘He.. thinks I won’t be as much fun?’ Jisung’s expression changed as soon as he heard the tone in your voice. ‘Well no, no, yes, well no. Not like that. He just thinks you and me would be a better match up, he is a bit loud you know? He snores and stinks and-’ ‘Yeah, yeah, okay. I get it.’ You continued what you were doing in silent and so did he. Your mind not leaving you alone. You and me would be a better match up.

When you were done making sure your tent was cozy and liveable for a few days you stepped out and noticed the campfire being lit up and Jeno, Mark, Renjun and Chenle sitting around the thing on some bigger branches. All of them holding some sort of snack and putting it in the fire. It looked like fun and you were excited to join when you noticed Haechan and Jaemin still being gone. Shouldn’t they be back by now? Like he could read your mind, Jisung, beside you, spoke: ‘Hey guys, shouldn’t Jaemin and Haechan be back by now?’ Mark shrugged his shoulders. ‘You know how they are, they will probably show up soon, don’t worry about it too much. Now hurry up and grabe some food before it’s gone.’ So that’s what you both did.

Many stories, laughs and marshmallows later you were full and it was pitch black outside, the stars and moon, together with the fireplace being the only sources of light. It was the best temperature it had been all day, not too hot but definitely not cold, just right. You felt content and happy, in your gut you could feel this was going to be an amazing trip. Gratefulness washed over you when you looked over at your friends who were still talking, while some of them were starting to clean up and get ready for bed. You were so lucky to have them in your life. Your eyes stopped at one person however and couldn’t look away. He wasn’t talking just simply looking up at the sky, at the stars and the moon. A sly smile plastered on his face, which was being lit up by the campfire, making him look absolutely stunning. His eyes seemed to glisten in all sorts of colours, or maybe that was your mind making that up. His smile making you feel fuzzy inside. Just like yesterday he was wearing a simple tee and jeans with some sneakers but without a jacket this time. It was almost effortless for him to look good and it made you upset. It was unfair how perfect he looked. You didn’t know how long you had been staring at him when you noticed he was staring back, a shy smile on his face. Fuck y/n, dumb. Bet you looked like a creep. You were just about to look away when his expression changed from shy and happy to concerned. ‘Guys,’ everyone stopped what they were doing and looked over at Jisung, ‘Haechan and Jaemin still aren’t back.’

‘Okay so you stay together, don’t lose each other and if you find them go back to our camping spot and wait there until we return. Don’t lose the flashlight and take care.’ Mark was instructing the group. He had paired you all up in duo’s who would all go a different direction to find the two lost boys. Mark and Renjun would search the north side of the woods, Chenle and Jeno the west and Jisung and you the east. It was crazy how in such a stressful situation Mark remained calm and took lead of the group. He gave one person of the duo’s a flashlight since there weren’t enough for all of you and Jaemin and Haechan had grabbed the last two. ‘Good luck everybody, remain safe please.’ Mark pleaded before walking of with Renjun. After that Chenle and Jeno followed and then Jisung and you.

As close as you could you walked beside him. Not wanting to trip, the chance now being even higher since it’s dark, you walked careful but slow. Jisung noticed since he walked way faster, because he wasn’t as clumsy and because he had way longer legs. So he stopped and waited until you caught up on him so that he could grab your hand and guide you. He used to do that a lot, he knew how clumsy you were and how many times you fell over your own feet. You were glad it was so dark outside otherwise he clearly would have noticed your rosy cheeks and flustered face by now, it was starting to get annoying, all this fuss that your body made to get used to him again. You almost wanted to smack yourself, this was a serious situation, Jaemin and Haechan were missing and you were out here blushing because your friend is holding your hand. So stop being such an idiot y/n. The both of you didn’t speak much except him warning you for certain things on your path and the both of you screaming out the names of the missing ones. Without much payoff however. Nobody answered and you didn’t find even one clue about where they could be. You had been walking for so long you were almost scared you two would get lost, well you would have if you were the one leading, lucky for you Jisung knew what he was doing because he had been here before.

Even though you really tried to ignore it, his hand holding yours was very, very present in your mind. It was almost like an alarmbel in your mind, well more in your heart. It had never gone to this speed before, you were sure of that. It had happened while shopping as well, but then you were just so confused, you were better at not paying attention to it. Suddenly you realized something. An epiphany. It explained why you always liked hanging around Jisung, you loved it, however it made you feel so nervous, so dizzy, you always had a dumb explanation for it which now makes no sense at all. You understood why you found yourself staring at him so often. Why you always double-checked how you looked around him and how you acted. Why you were so excited to go on this trip. Why his smile was the most beautiful thing you have ever seen, why his laugh brought you so much joy your stomach almost started to hurt, why his eyes made you get lost in them, why everything he did was mesmerising to you, why the little things he did made your heart race at such an immense speed. You liked Jisung. You liked Park Jisung and you had just found out. It made your heart stop. What did you do? Oh my god what did you do? He noticed long ago, you were sure of it. That’s why he didn’t hang out with you so much alone anymore, that’s why he didn’t talk that much or looked embarrassed around you, that’s why he became so distant. He knew you liked him and he found it embarrassing, he didn’t want to hurt you so he acted like he didn’t know and instead took a step back from you. Oh how stupid have you been? At this point you were sweating so much you were sure he noticed your hand being clammy in no-time. You wanted to cry on the spot.

The both of you were already turning back to the camp because there was no way you would find them here and leaving the path would be too dangerous right now, you two could get lost and that would cause an even bigger problem. As you were walking back and you had your internal breakdown the flashlight flickered 4 times before turning off. ‘Shit.’ As a whisper it came out his mouth, he let go of your hand to fix the thing. You took the opportunity to take a step back and calm yourself and your stupid sweaty hands before he would hold them again. Unfortunately for you, you took a bit too many steps backwards and tripped over what you assumed was a rock, making you fall and roll down for a few seconds before coming to a stop. You hissed at the pain in your arms and legs from the freshly cut bruises and the pain on your head, which you fell on. That all would heal very annoying, you would get scabs and now the sun would be out so much, you would get tanned while the wounds would stay light and form ugly scars. You sighed and tried to get up but immediately fell back down. That’s when you noticed you sprained your ankle when you tripped over that stone and you sprained it quite badly. So you sat there, in the dark, in the woods, on sticks and leaves, probably surrounded by thousands of little bugs who would love to meet the human who is among them. It was the universe, you knew it, punishing you for being so dumb for falling in love with one of your friends, your best friend even. You felt the tears pricking in your eyes and before you knew it they were rolling down your cheeks. Not even a few seconds later a bright light was shining right towards you.

‘Oh my god, there you are, I was so worried I had lost you and wouldn’t find you-Wait are you crying? Oh no, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have left you alone standing there, looked what happened. Are you hurt?’ He kneeled beside you, shining the light at your exposed arms and legs. It was a stupid idea to were shorts in the woods even though it was warm, it would have at least protected you more if you wore a pair of jeans. All sorts of mumbles came out of his mouth while he inspected you from top to toe, asking where it hurt, if you felt dizzy. Honestly you did but that was not because of the fall, well a part of it was, but mostly because of the closeness of him and his face and how he was inspecting you. It made you even dizzier that your brain allowed yourself to feel all this, absolutely disgusting. He stopped asking questions and rambling about how stupid and irresponsible he was when you didn’t respond to anything. He shone the flashlight right at your face and you quickly closed your eyes to block the bright light. ‘Are you okay?’ His tone was soft, dripping with concern. You still had your eyes closed even though he had put the flashlight down beside you. ‘Hey, it’s alright. I’m so sorry for letting your hand go.’ His hand was on your shoulder. It was driving you insane, why was he being so nice and caring. ‘Don’t say sorry please, I’m not hurt. I’m used to getting bruised. The only thing that really hurts is my ankle, I think I strained it. And my head since I fell on it. But it’s fine.’ ‘It’s not fine, otherwise you wouldn’t be crying.’ His voice sounded a little bit more relieved, probably because you responded, but still concerned enough. ‘I’m sorry Jisung.’ His hand moved up to your cheek and you could swear your heart stopped. ’For what? You did nothing wrong silly.’ You wanted to cry even harder but it was like the tank was empty, nothing was coming out anymore. So you sighed and opened your eyes to look at him. His face only a few inches from yours, staring at you with the most concern you have ever seen, he probably thinks you’re going crazy. His brows furrowed, making wrinkles on the part of his forehead you could see, that wasn’t covered up by his hair. You wanted to smooth them out, he shouldn’t look concerned.

‘I like you Jisung, that’s why I am sorry’ You sighed out, looking at his face, waiting for his disgusted reaction or the face of embarrassment before he tells you he doesn’t feel the same way. But that never comes. Instead he looked confused, he didn’t look away for even one second, he kept staring into your eyes. This was even worse than you expected. You wanted him to reject you, right in your face so you could move on and maybe, just maybe become normal friends again. But instead he looks like you gave him shock therapy and he is paralysed. You felt like apologizing to the poor soul. ‘Look I’m sorry Jisung, I really am. I know you had noticed it already and that you became distant because of it, to not hurt my feelings and-’ You stopped to catch your breath and bring your hand up to your head since it was bonking like crazy and you were getting even dizzier because of it. ‘I like you too.’ You halted your movements and your eyes became as big as eggs. Most certainly you had hit your head way too hard and this was the side effect of it; hallucination.  

‘JISUNG! Y/N!’ Jisung jolted up at the sound of your names, it was Mark calling for the both of you. ‘Stay here.’ He said before running of in the dark towards the sound of Mark’s voice. ‘Like I could go anywhere.’ You let out to yourself while staring at your ankle. Suddenly everything hurt way less. Like your bruises were almost gone, you could feel the sting but it didn’t hurt as much. It almost felt like you were on clouds instead of the ground of the woods. Maybe the second side effect was showing up, getting sleepy and paralysed. You were almost sure of that when an angel came jogging back and picked you and the flashlight up from the ground like it was nothing. You felt even sleepier but you didn't want to close your eyes, afraid that when you opened them again it would all be gone. That it would all have been a dream. You laid your head against his chest as you listened to the pounding of his heart, it was rather fast, but he did run back there so that explains it. He smelled nice, just like in the car. Like cologne but a bit more worn out now and woody maybe, it smelled like a forest or maybe it was just you who had sticks and leaves in your hair from falling. It didn’t really matter honestly. He was warm and comfortable and staying awake was getting harder and harder.

Suddenly you noticed he stepped into an area with more light and you could hear the voices of your friends. It sounded like they were very distant and unstable. The only voice you could hear rather clearly was his voice. He was telling them what had happened out there and that he needed the first aid-kit. But you didn’t want to do that right now, you wanted to go to sleep, the pain was just setting down. You knew what they were gonna put on your bruises and that would wake the pain up again. No, no. They all went quiet. Could they hear your mind? Or did you say that out loud? At this point you couldn’t separate reality from your imagination anymore.  ‘I’m sorry but we need to, otherwise it will be even worse tomorrow. After that you can go to sleep okay?’ You opened your eyes a bit more to look at him a bit more clear. He looked gorgeous. ]You nodded your head slowly and he smiled at you before putting you down in your tent. After that the treating of your wounds began and even though you hated it now, you knew it would be better in the morning.

The next day you woke up with a headache and someone stroking your head. You blinked your eyes a couple of times and noticed the tent was completely lit which meant it was light outside. You had no idea how late in the day though. ‘Slept well?’ Looking over to your left you saw Jisung’s face on the pillow beside yours, stroking your head and giving you the most precious smile. It honestly felt and looked like a dream how he was laying there so perfectly. You were enjoying the moment and was just about to answer when you remembered the events from yesterday evening and you quickly shot up. He followed your movements and the concerned look was plastered on his face again. ‘We didn't find Haechan and Jaemin, oh my god no. They are starving out there, what if there was a bear and-’ He placed a hand on your shoulder and chuckled. ‘Calm down, y/n. Renjun found them yesterday when he and Mark got back to the camping spot. They opened the tent they were supposed to sleep in to see if they had left any clues to where they would have gone when they found them in there sleeping peacefully.’ You honestly never felt more confused. ‘Wait, what? How? Why?’ You mumbled. ‘They didn't even go into the woods, while we were busy doing our own stuff and setting everything up. They sneaked into their tents and waited to prank us at the perfect time. However they waited too long, ate too much candy while doing so, got a sugar rush and after that was over they fell asleep.’ Deep down you were happy those two idiots were safe but you also could kill them right at the spot for making you so worried. ‘So there is nothing to worry about okay? Except yourself cause you have been pretty bruised up.’

Just as he let those words out the headache started to make itself noticeable again and you decided it was a better idea to go and lay down again. And he followed, his face again on the pillow beside you but this time closer towards you, only a few inches between the both of you. You could feel his breath on your face, it smelled minty. That’s when you realized you maybe should do that too. Fuck, what did you even look like after all those hours of sleeping. ‘Is it okay if I go.. and get ready?’ He nodded. ‘Of course, but don’t you need a bit of help since you can’t really walk that well?’ ‘No, I’ll be alright, I advance rather quickly to my situation.’ ‘Okay than, see you in a bit. I’ll be waiting outside.’ Lifting himself up he gave you a quick glance to make sure you would indeed be alright, before stepping out of the tent. You took a few seconds to calm yourself down and after that rolled to your right side to grab the bag which stored your clothes. ‘Oh yeah, one thing. We are going swimming, the guys are already at the lake but I stayed behind for you. You have a swimsuit or something like that right?’ You nodded in response. ‘I do.’ He closed the zipper of the tent again and you were left alone with the challenge to get ready. While doing so your mind wandered off over and over again. Trying to remember the events of the night before as clearly as you could before passing out. You knew you had fallen down, the evidence was right there when you looked at your legs, all sort of little cuts and purple bruises were splattered on there. Your arms had the same story going on. So that was a fact. But what about the rest. You knew you had been crying because when you looked in the mirror to fix your hair you saw the puffiness of your eyelids, which only appeared after some good old spilling your emotions out trough your eyes. It was all physical evidence about what had happened yesterday. The rest you thought you knew, but honestly you didn’t really trust your mind. What if you were mixing up the real world with your dream one? What if you telling Jisung you liked him and him confessing he felt the same was just you making it up? He didn’t act awkward, so maybe nothing had happened. That gave you a peace of mind, well a little.

After about, what you assumed to be, half an hour, you were finally finished and hopped over to the tent opening and zipped it open. Jisung was waiting for you on one of the branches, as soon as he heard the sound of the zipper he jogged over to you with a bright smile. ‘Ready to go?’ And with that you hopped over to the lake, Jisung by your side, holding your hand and offering to carry you once in a while since it looked tiring. But you declined, wanting to do it yourself because he was already carrying a beach bag, even though it was indeed tiring. Eventually after a long time of hopping the two of you arrived at the lake. It was an open spot surrounded by many trees and a few mountains in the distance. The scenery was absolutely stunning. When you looked a bit better though you noticed the sun was already slowly setting. How late did you wake up for it too be this late already. You looked over at Jisung apologetically. How long has he been waiting for you to wake up. ‘Hey guys, there you finally are.’ Jaemin said while jogging over to you, a towel in his hand. ‘We were actually just getting ready to leave, we were getting hungry,’ Chenle spoke behind Jaemin, already wearing his normal outfit unlike Jaemin who was still in his swimming trunks, his hair was still wet though, ‘and besides that waiting in the water for you two for that long get’s kinda boring after a while.’ When you looked behind him you saw he was right, all of them were packing there stuff and getting ready to leave. That’s a bummer you actually would like to chlll in the water for a bit. ‘It’s okay, you guys go. Y/n and I will hangout here for a bit and return before it’s dark.’ Chenle really liked that for some reason and started giggling, while Jaemin was giving Jisung a wink. ‘Okay then, have fun together.’ He gave you a wink this time and you furrowed your brows while Jisung sighed loudly beside you. They started running of into the woods and eventually the others followed as well, leaving the two of you alone at the mesmerising spot.

You hopped over to the sand, near the water and started taking off your shirt and shorts, together with the pair of flip flops you were wearing, leaving you only in your swimsuit. Being brave you hopped over to the water but before your toes could even touch it you felt a hand grabbing your arm, halting your movements. ‘Are you crazy, you’re not doing that without my help dumbass. You’re gonna get hurt even more.’ A chuckle escaped your mouth when you looked over at the boy who had undressed himself as well and was now only wearing swimming trunks. It was mind-blowing how good he looked. ‘That’s not funny.’ He pouted before sliding the hand from your arm to your hand, leaving goose bumps behind on every part he touched, he guided you closer to the water but still didn’t let you touch it and instead picked you up in his arms. The scene reminded you of the night before, even though it was still very hazy and you didn’t trust your memories. But you could remember the absolute bliss you felt being in his arms and this time it was just as present. He was just as warm and the cologne was still vaguely on him even though he was shirtless. The sun hit him in such a way that he looked like he was shining himself. You got interrupted from your staring session when the water finally reached your skin and you got startled by it, it wasn’t cold though, it was just the right temperature. Jisung had stopped walking and was now looking down at you. ‘This doesn’t work very well, why don’t you hold onto my neck, then we can go a bit deeper.’ Little did he know it was extremely comfortable in his arms, but still you agreed and put your arms around his neck while he continued walking. Like a reflex you put your legs around his waist and held onto him tightly.

He stopped again when the water went up to his chest. You let yourself fall back a bit too look at him, his eyes where on you, they were smiling at you. His hands went to your waist and he pulled you even closer to him, you saw the flicker of nervousness shooting trough his face. No words were being spoken, but with Jisung you were used to that. You two didn’t need to speak that much to understand each other. But this time you were questioning yourself if you were sure of what he was doing. His head was tilted, his eyes searching for your reaction as he got closer. The only emotion you could feel was absolute bliss. When your nose touched you could feel the bubble that had been growing in your stomach wanting to pop, but it was waiting for something. Jisung and you had gotten really close before, he was your best friend after all, but never this close. His eyes were still searching trough yours and when he saw what he searched for, permission, slowly he pressed his lips against yours oh so softly. The bubble had popped. Releasing all kinds off butterflies, small and big. They were fluttering trough your whole body. His grip on your waist tightened and with his other hand he held your neck, deepening the kiss. His lips were soft and warm, like honey. The kiss didn’t last long, you had to catch your breath and so did he. When you did he looked at you with the most loving eyes, looking happier than ever and you were sure you were a mirror of those emotions.

‘I like you y/n, a lot actually.’ He confessed, for the second time. It was confirmation that yesterday was real, that his words were real and that his feelings for you were real. ‘I’m sorry that I became so distant. I always knew I liked you but only recently discovered that I liked you in a different way than just friends. I didn’t want to ruin things between us, so I thought the best thing to do was to just give us some space. I know it’s stupid, I truly am sorry. I think I’m just not used to feeling these things’ You leaned over to kiss him once again, this time with one of your hands going trough his soft brown hair, pausing only to catch your breath again. ‘I like you too Jisung.’ You whispered to him, foreheads touching, eyes locked. ‘But sometimes you’re a dumb goose, who gave you that tip for being distant because I’m sure you wouldn’t come up with that? It was Haechan wasn’t it? Yeah he’d be dumb enough and still call himself a love-guru-’Before you could even finish your rambling he held onto you even tighter and pulled you with him under the water. When you came up you had water in your nose and were coughing some up. ‘Park Jisung, I will kill you, just wait.’  You coughed out. His laugh was ringing in your ears as he looked at you struggling. ‘You can’t even walk without tripping, so I’m curious to see how you are planning to kill me.’ He laughed even harder. ‘I don’t need my feet to kill you.’ ‘Touche.’ He pecked your lips. ‘Touche.’ You mumbled before pressing yourself against him and stared at the sunset.  

You were right, this was going to be an amazing trip.

FIN

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[alfwriteshizz]

Iplah

Graverunners (original content) // short story: 3188 words // trigger warnings: explosion

A master Glyphmancer struggles to complete her magnum opus.

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Three days was a long time to stare at a rock. 

Iplah, House Glyphmancer, had earned her royal commission figuring out how to use objects to bridge the gap between the physical world and the unseen. She had spent half a lifetime glaring at stones like the one that sat on her workbench, surrounded by errant papers, formulas and theories, figuring out how to bind glyphs to them without overloading them with power.

Never before had she been given such a daunting task.

The stone that sat before her was a small, slightly oval-shaped one. It looked far too grey and bland to be the cause of all her troubles. It had earned its name not for its looks, but for its unique structure that made it far more resilient when dealing with glyphs. Yiralich. Translated, it meant, ‘living rock’. If there was anything this size that could accommodate a mind glyph, the most complicated and dangerous type, it would be one of these.

The fragments of her last attempt still littered the room - thick shards of murky clear rock, swimming in the flickering candlelight. Using glyphs for illumination was effective, but often interfered with Iplah’s work. And she had enough interference coming from her own head.

She slumped back, massaging her temples just beneath her angular horns, surveying her lack of progress. She needed a breakthrough. And a rest. She had been working for far too long. 

She felt the last vestiges of concentration slip from her mind as she hauled herself to her feet, pulled on her Glyphmancer cloak, and pushed open the door.

And was greeted with the sight of a soldier clad in full armour standing to attention, one gauntleted arm raised to knock on the door.

The other held a plate with a roll from the kitchens. 

“Flint? What are you doing here?” Iplah asked, leaning against the doorway and stifling a yawn. The soldier gave a mock salute in response.

“Thought I’d bring my best friend some grub. Consider it a reward for finally cracking the stone.”

“I don’t know about reward, Flint.” Iplah sighed, taking his plate and leading him back into her study, opening a shutter and letting light flood into the small room.

“Although I guess I have ‘cracked’ the stone.”

Flint whistled, surveying the state of the room. And the shards of Yiralich scattered across it.

“That bad, huh?”

Iplah drew up her workbench chair, settled herself down and started devouring the roll. “Worse,” She muttered between bites. “I can’t find a way to begin to bind the glyph to a Yiralich without a critical loss of integrity.”

“Hence the exploded rock.”

“...Hence the exploded rocks. I tried more than once, you know.” She looked at the roll in surprise. “This is good.”

“It’s what fresh food tastes like.” Flint said, finding a chair and sitting down across from her. “You know, when you eat food when it’s meant to be eaten. Not a day later.”

“You’re one to talk, ration boy.”

Flint shrugged. “Hey, that’s not fair. I don’t have constant access to a kitchen three floors down from me when I’m on assignments. You have no excuse.”

He leaned forward. “And between you and me, that’s ration Captain. I didn’t spend seven years eating stale bread on the frontlines for nothing, you know.”

Flint had served his house as long as Iplah had served hers - though relations between Reknas, the house of blades, and Luneas, the house of Glyphs, were never particularly warm, the two had remained firm friends through Flint’s postings and Iplah’s projects. 

Flint looked over at Iplah’s equations, his eyes glazing over slightly as he scanned the glyph placement charts. “I don’t envy you, Iplah. This stuff looks hard.”

“Harder than military work?” Iplah asked, surprised.

“It’s all about working the problem, Iplah,” Flint explained, slouching in his chair slightly. “You get a problem here, you do equations, try to reason with it. You get a problem on the battlefield, you just stab it. Not much strain in the brain department.”

Iplah chuckled softly. “I guess.” She glanced over at the stubborn chunk of Yiralich. “Sometimes I just want to stab that rock.”

That simple statement echoed around her skull like a crackle of static electricity, before realisation ignited like a thunderbolt in her mind. She dropped the half-finished roll onto the plate, swallowing a slightly too-big chunk with a start, standing abruptly. Flint started.

“Iplah? You alright?”

Iplah made a noise halfway between a grunt and a choke. Flint handed her his canteen, which she accepted with as much grace as she could manage. A few gulps of water later, she was looking over her notes with a newfound frenzy. 

“Iplah?”

“Why shouldn’t I stab the rock?” She asked, aggressively shuffling through papers.

“Uhh... are you asking me?” Flint asked, regarding his friend. She barely noticed him. Her brow was furrowed and water and crumbs speckled her chin, but there was a spark in her eyes that frightened Flint more than any skirmish.

She finally found the sheet she was looking for hidden in the shivering pale mounds, and slammed it down in front of her. A diagram of the composition of the Yiralich stone.

“The glyph won’t bind because it’s incompatible with the stone’s core structure. But if I were to alter that structure, the glyph might be stable enough during fusion to permanently bind to the stone...”

She scratched a calculation directly into her desk with a sliver of pencil, before scrawling a crescent shape into the diagram of the stone. She looked up at Flint with an expression not unlike ones he had seen on bloodlusted soldiers.

“Do you have your blade with you?”

“What kind of question is that?” Flint asked, holding out his sword, held safely in its ceremonial sheath. “I never leave my quarters without it-“

Iplah snatched the blade, stumbling slightly as she realised how heavy it was. Flint helped her haul it onto a relatively clear section of her workbench.

“What are we-“

“I need to bind some glyphs to your sword.” She paused, looking at Flint. “Can I bind some glyphs to your sword?”

Flint’s puzzled expression gave way to a grim resignation. He had been hoping the days of Iplah experimenting glyphwork on his weapons were over. 

“I’m gonna need it back, if possible...”

“No promises.” Iplah grinned, pulling on a pair of goggles and passing a spare to Flint, who hurriedly pulled them over his eyes, managing to avoid tangling them on his horns. She opened a drawer and pulled out her gauntlet, slipping it over her hand and flexing the fingers as the back began to glow with a pale green light, glyphs of power and focus beginning to glow on the back of its palm.

Glyphmancers differed in the ways they preferred to apply glyphs. Some used augmented implements similar to brushes or even weapons, stroking or slashing their glyphs into being. It varied from set to set and from culture to culture. Iplah preferred the organic feel, tracing glyphs with her fingers. It felt right to her.

She slid the blade out of its sheath, flared her gauntlet with another flex of her fingers, and set to work, hunched over the blade, her finger swathed in light as she began to trace a simple set of glyphs into the blade’s surface. 

“The crescent draws forth power...” Iplah breathed, finishing her first curved glyph just above the blade’s guard. She traced another a few centimetres above it, flowing from the first. 

“Which is channelled into sharpness...” 

the edge of the blade shone. Iplah drew a final glyph from the second, flowing along the curvature of the blade and finishing as it did.

“...which, finally, is stabilised.”

The glyph faded, faint wisps of moisture trailing from its edges. Iplah hauled the sword upright, checking the blade. On the other side of the metal, the glyph was there in reverse. 

“This is what we call a perfect bind - the glyph imprints itself on both sides. It’s one of the first glyphsets we learn.”

“Neat.” said Flint, raising his goggles and trying to hide the astonishment in his voice. No matter how many times he saw Iplah do it, Glyphtracing always made him feel like a kid again. Maybe that was why she insisted on explaining every step to him. And why he let her. “So, can I have my sword back now?”

“Sure.”

“Wait, really?”

“Of course.” Said Iplah, motioning to the blade. “She’s all yours.”

With more than a little relief, Flint picked up his blade, paused for more than a few moments to admire the glyphwork, and went to return it to its sheath. Iplah put her hand on the pommel, however, and Flint paused.

“But before you put it away, I need you to do one more thing for me.”

—

“Are you sure this is going to work?”

Flint was standing blade at the ready, the business end pointed towards the Yiralich stone bolted in place on a relatively clear section of floor. Iplah was a short distance away, edging closer to her desk should she need to hide behind it.

“It’s a complete shot in the dark, to be honest,” Iplah replied. “But I’m out of options. And you’re the self-proclaimed stabbing expert.”

“So what do I do?”

“I’ve marked a triangular shape at the very top of the stone. Do you see it?”

Flint saw it. 

“I need you to cut through that notch, right through to the other side, carving out the shape.”

“You want me to run through a rock?”

“I want you to run through a rock with a unique elemental structure so you can alter that structure slightly.” Iplah explained. “It’ll concentrate more unseen density towards the face of the glyph site, which means I’ll be able to-“

“Okay, okay, I get it. Are you sure we shouldn’t get someone qualified to do this? Someone who knows what they’re doing? I’m just a soldier.”

“It’s all about working the problem, Flint. I work things out with equations, and you hit things with a sword. We can do this.”

Flint held his blade a little more tightly, the glyphs flowing down its side, pointing towards the rock.

“Okay.” 

He drove the blade into the stone with all the force of a soldier who was very good at his job. At least, he rammed the ceremonial sword down with all the intention of doing just that. The problem came when the steel met the rock. And abruptly stopped with a underwhelming clang.

Luckily for Flint, the awkwardness of the moment only lasted a few seconds. As he cleared his throat to ask Iplah what to do next, the glyphs on his blade hummed to life, with one of those sounds that you felt rather than heard. 

The blade began to sink steadily into the stone, a thin trail of smoke emerging from the deepening cut and mingling with the dust and sunlight in the air. It smelt to Flint like how metal tasted.

Eventually, the blade thudded through to the floor. Careful not to increase the pressure on the blade, Flint began to guide it round the stone, following the shape Iplah had calculated. 

A few more moments later, his blade skidded out the other side, and the stone had been cut into two rather neat pieces. The runes on his blade steadily faded back to a dull steel, the thrum of the metal slowly petering out. Condensation dripped from the tip of the sword.

“Did it work?” He asked without turning round. He felt that the moment had been somewhat underwhelming - he had expected sparks to fly or the runes to glow just a little bit brighter. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Iplah cautiously making her way over to have a look. 

“Looks like it.” She replied, stashing the unneeded part of the stone and pulling a sheet of paper from her Glyphmancer robes. 

Although, when he saw it, Flint felt that calling it paper was somehow a disservice. Parchment seemed more appropriate - it seemed to fit the sense of raw power that his senses insisted were coming from that flat sheet.

Then he saw the design that Iplah had mapped upon it. It was a glyph alright, but not like any he’d ever seen before. It was symmetrical, and seemed to get more and more intricate the longer he looked at it. At its very centre was a semi-circle facing downwards - Flint couldn’t escape the sensation that it was a closed eye.

Iplah saw his gaze and explained. “This is a mind glyph. One of the more complicated glyph combinations out there.” She knelt down before the bolted stone, which was now oval-shaped with a point at one end, holding the parchment over the top.

“I can’t draw this glyph directly into the stone. One imperfection could shatter it, or worse. So I did it on something more mundane, like paper, to make sure I could focus on getting the glyph perfect without worrying about something exploding in my face.”

She looked up at Flint through goggled eyes. Although Flint couldn’t see them, he could make out the grim slash of her lips below. “You might want to stand back. I’m about to transfer the glyph to the stone.”

Flint obligingly took a few steps backward, ignoring the instinctual urge to protect his friend. She knew what she was doing. He didn’t.

She held her gauntlet with fingers outstretched over the paper (parchment?), flared it once more, and began to slowly turn her hand clockwise. A few errant sparks flicked from the sheet. It began to rise into the air, as though held between two magnets. Then a sound quite unlike anything Flint had heard before filled the air. Although he didn’t know it, it was the cries of the individual atoms of the paper being forced to give up the glyph binding. He didn’t know about all that, but he could feel the quantum pain slicing through the air, and it sent a shiver down his hardened, shiver-resistant spine.

The sheet began to drain of pigment as the rune leapt the gap through the unseen world. The stone began to shudder and hiss.

Flint felt that the image was somehow wrong. His brain, surprisingly, accepted everything it was seeing, but felt as though it should be taking place in eerie blackness, not the dull light of the morning, with pale glyphlight struggling against dust and sunlight. Iplah’s face was cast in lines of sleep, not the impossible forces she was wielding as she bent the universe to her will. 

Then it was over. Iplah cast the blank sheet aside, where it promptly disintegrated into pale grey ash. For a moment, Flint saw only the stone: blank, grey, uninteresting. Then the glyph flared to life across its surface: a brilliant white that somehow outshone the sunlight. Even with their goggles, Iplah and Flint reeled. Flint felt his ears pop, and tried to peer at the stone and shield his eyes at the same time. 

“It’s almost bound...” Iplah muttered, inching closer. “Come on, just a bit longer...”

Crack.

To say the stone shattered would be a gross understatement to the point of sheer inaccuracy. The stone exploded into infinitesimally small pieces, mingling with the dust and leaving a faint afterimage of the glyph hovering in the air and on the inside of Flint’s retinas. 

They waited for a little while. When her ears finally stopped ringing, Iplah pounded the floor in frustration. “Ked’am.” She swore. “I really thought I had it that time. I guess not.”

Flint patted her shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring way, blinking several times a second. “Good explosion, if that’s any consolation.” He helped her up. “Now let’s get you something proper to eat.”

They made their way to the door, leaving a room full of smoke, dust, crumbs and failure.

Iplah had just touched the doorknob when it happened. Flint felt something in the room behind them - his soldier’s sense, instincts from years in battle. He glanced over his shoulder, not knowing what to expect.

His eyes widened. He reached out and grabbed Iplah’s shoulder. “Iplah...” he breathed. 

Iplah turned, and her question died on her lips as she saw what was happening. 

An image was flickering to life on the floor, directly above the blackened mark where the stone had exploded. After a few seconds she realised it was the mind glyph. The one she had drawn with her own hand.

It flared to life, hovering in the air, light smouldering from its edges. 

Flint felt his teeth clench in his mouth. He felt drawn to that point. With a start he realised that he was being drawn to it. His soldier’s braid lifted like a crooked finger, pointing towards the singularity on the floor. 

“Flint...!” Iplah breathed. He turned and saw Iplah’s Glyphmancer robes trailing towards the point, hovering in a phantom breeze. She caught something in the air, lifted her goggles, and looked at him with eyes filled with wonder.

“Look...!”

He looked and saw a speck between her thumb and forefinger. And saw countless others flitting through the air around them. At first he thought they were dust particles. But then he saw them coiling together to form slick grey strands as they passed through the pale sunlight. His eyes turned to where they were trailing, and he understood. 

The stone was rebuilding itself. Piece by minuscule piece. Flint stood, mesmerised, as molecules of matter flitted from his hair, his horns, his clothes, peeled themselves from the walls and roof, from the furniture. Ranks and ranks of rock shards marching themselves back to when they were whole.

And before his eyes, Flint realised that the stone that had appeared on the floor was almost as it was. Iplah let the speck between her fingers go, and it bobbed down, settling into place and vanishing like snow falling onto water. The glyph flared one final time, like a predator yawning after a meal, and faded into blackness. And all of a sudden the room was back to normal, dust dancing in the shafts of golden grey sunlight, the only sign that anything remotely out of the ordinary had just occurred the black explosion mark beneath the stone and Iplah and Flint’s stunned breathing.

Eventually, Iplah summoned the courage to slink over to where the stone lay bolted to the floor. She tenderly unscrewed it from its casing, and held it, reverently, between her fingers. Bearing it aloft into the blue daylight. 

The mind glyph was emblazoned just underneath the surface of the clouded rock, winking up at her. With trembling fingers, Iplah turned it over. 

And saw the same glyph imprinted in reverse on the other side. Identical. A perfect bind.

She had done it.

Only then did Flint let out a roar of victory so sudden and so joyous that Iplah nearly dropped the culmination of her life’s work.

[itsa-lie]

The Birth Of A Liar Part Four

||Part One||Part Two||Part Three||Part Four||Part Five||

I can’t believe I’ve written four of these already... but now is when things get a bit more interesting.

Trigger Warning: Kidnapping,ne*dles,and mentions of past Daganronpa executions.

It’s six years later, Kokichi and some of his orphan friends are in an orphanage. They had been found out. The building that they used to use, all the things that they stole and all their shared happy memories were now collecting dust in a damp abandoned brick structure. The men in the uniforms were very thorough in their orders. All the children wearing the clown masks and costumes that Halloween night were to be brought in. The Tokyo law enforcement building was now up to the brim with rowdy children calling for someone named “Kokichi Ouma”, the child who disappeared so many years ago. Who was to know he was housing orphans or children from bad homes. Even the father killer Maki Haruwaka was found. Kokichi refused to talk, afraid to trust adults after what he’s seen them do. They’ve murdered three people, two of which were his own parents. Who’s to say these people won’t hurt his new family?

Though all they did was gather them up, give them a big dinner to eat (even bigger than the meals that DICE usually gives), before taking them to the local orphanage, Kokichi included. One would think that he would be a bit happy, he and the other Co Leaders didn’t have the weighted responsibility of the lives of over a thousand children. Though Kokichi was not relieved. He was even more worried. Especially since one of his ten Co Leaders didn’t come back. A day didn’t go by where Kokichi didn’t worry about Maki. Where did she go? Why wasn’t she caught like the rest? Did she and Goro go back to their real home? And what about Hanako? So many thoughts preoccupied his head that he almost couldn’t get himself awake that morning. Luckily the younger kids were able to wake him up, placing his hand in cold water and pouring water on him to make it seem like he had wet himself. The cold water wakes him up instantly, his body jolting out of bed in the sitting position. “Wha-?” He pulls his covers noticing the wet spot. “Oh great...”

The eruption of laughter from the children woke him up even more. Grogginess made it hard for the leader to realize but after seeing the cup of water, the squirt bottle in one child’s hand, and the small evil Kokichi Ouma like grins behind poorly drawn clown masks he notices that his pranking skills have been passed on to the future faces of his club. “Nyhehehe, you got me good. I’ll be down for breakfast shortly.”

Once he shoos the kiddos off, he puts on his boring school clothes and heads downstairs. Once he got there, a roar of laughter and chatting filled his ears. It was by the television set in the living quarters...what kind of event would warrant such a joyful response from the others? Perhaps a new anime show had aired? Curiously he approaches only to hear that God awful song in his ears. The wretched rock intro to one of his most despised shows on television. Danganronpa. The black and white bear character comes close to the camera, smiles evily, then cuts to scenes of...well...violence. Violence and death. And the kids were eating this up like candy.

“Hey! The next season of Daganronpa is heading to you this year, and we want YOU to be apart of it!” A cheesy announcer cheerfully gloats as the children watch with happy giggling. This made Kokichi feel sick. “We’re accepting audition tapes to find the next ULTIMATE. Do you think YOU can be the last one standing in the Killing Game? Then send a video to ———————- and tell us why you think you’re perfect for Daganronpa! You must be eighteen or older to register. Wearenotresponsibleforanymemoryortraumawhenyouapply.”

That last comment went a bit too fast and it was very hard to hear the announcer over the loud music, but all of this did sound fishy.

“If I was in the killing game, I’d kill everyone and no one would even know!” Exclaimed one boy, a boy from DICE given he has a drawn clown mask in his hands. Being the leader Kokichi had to step up.

“That’s MURDER. Killing is MURDER. You’re a member of DICE. You should know better.”

The boy rolls his eyes. “Relax, Koki. It’s all fake. Do you really think a talking robot teddy would kill anyone?”

“Or turn them into butter? Or deep fry them alive? No that would be too horrible to be real but on television they can work their magic~!” Chimes in a girl, another one of DICE’s orphans. How could they like this?! Each time he saw another “body discovery” or even the way they executed the killers just....it was horrible! Probably edited with special effects and music for the audience but if you were there the music wouldn’t be and you’d be hearing every bit of pain they were experiencing. Why watch that? WHY give money to that!?

“Eighteen huh...oh yeah! Koki is turning eighteen in a few months! Why doesn’t Koki apply?”

“Yeah! Kokichi is the kindest bestest leader of our group! If anyone could win it would be Kiki!”

All the eyes were on him now and he...froze up? Even if he was a leader and the founder of an organization, being the center of attention for such a large audience not of just his members made him fill with anxiety. Watching his every move, listening to his every word, it was enough pressure as it was to have all these kids look up to you. “Uhh...sorry. I don’t kill. And I don’t expect to be killed anytime soon thank you very much.” What sort of leader would go back on his own word? Death was horrible. Glorifying death, glorifying grief and pain...he didn’t want to have anything to do with that sort of philosophy.

“You don’t have to kill! You can just uncover the mastermind! And with the prize money for winning we could build back up the headquarters and leave this place!”

Wait...prize money? There was prize money for a game about killing people? Or is it for the one who survives? The children continue to root for him to apply not understanding the real consequences of him doing so. The purple haired boy put his hand to his head to massage the ever growing tension that was slowly rising. “I-I dunno...I-I’ll see.” That wasn’t a very satisfactory answer for the children as they cried out in disappointment. This was a big deal...he couldn’t just decide to do this right away. His quick to act intuition had failed him before, and he tries to take what Maki said to heart to not make the same mistake twice.

All the children gathered around the table to eat breakfast. Honestly Kokichi wasn’t hungry at that moment. He would only nibble a little on his eggs and toast before telling the workers he was full. The others wouldn’t stop begging him to join and it made his stomach feel sick. He quickly left for school.

Walking through the halls of his high school, he spots a peculiar poster hung outside one of the AV Room. It had that bear on it. That grinning bear that so gleefully sends those people to their deaths. What was his name? Mononucleosis? Monogram? Meh. Who cares. The poster however had the words “Daganronpa Audition Sign Up” in big letters above the smirking ursine. Blinking a few times, Kokichi weighs the situation. If he doesn’t do something about this, more stupid kids will be sent to their death in front of millions of people. However if he somehow RUINS the game, maybe he could stop it entirely!

There it was. His new goal! A purpose to save everyone before they’ve tricked into this horrific trap!

“Are you here for the audition? Hellooooo? Excuse me?”

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a girl with glasses, her uniform wasn’t the same the girl’s wore here however...maybe she worked for Daganronpa? No...she was definitely a high schooler. Even her bag mentioned an “anime club” which was featured right across it. There was definitely no anime club here but he knew other schools had them. Kokichi turns to the female, his words stuck in his throat.

“Umm y-yeah. Yes I am.”

“You’re really short for an upperclassman. Are you eighteen?”

“Yes, I-I mean close to it. My birthday is in two months...” Shit why was he being so shy now? Yeah the blue haired girl was pretty, but he wasn’t attracted to her! Maybe it was the fact she works for a big television company and that intimidated him?

“That’s fine, the next season won’t start for three months anyway so I think you’ll be fine...” The girl then holds out a clipboard with many forms on it and a pen to use. Kokichi stares at it confused. The girl gives him a reassuring smile and waved her arms in front of her. “Oh no need to be alarmed by that, it’s just tv speak. You know, that we’re able to use your name and face and everything.” The girl explains. Well...she didn’t say anything about risking their real life...so maybe it was okay.

He signs in every page that needed it, hardly reading the fine print. The girl smiles and places the forms in another folder to make everything neat. However from the corner of his eye he could see a familiar sign of someone on one of the forms. The name “Maki Haruwaka” written on one form in the folder. His eyes went wide. No...it couldn’t be the SAME Maki Haruwaka right? She hated death as much as he did! Still knowing that she was still out there gave him a small amount of relief. Maybe he really shouldn’t have done it, but Kokichi spoke up.

“Maki Haruwaka signed up too?” The blue haired girl tilts her head looking curiously up at him. “Oh? You know her? Why yes! She goes to my school so I see her a few times in the halls. Oh that’s right! You two were running an orphanage together, right?” Kokichi nods hesitantly. He hasn’t seen her for a good six years, what could she be doing right now? Were her siblings safe as well? What about the other DICE members? “Aww that sounds like a good anime plot. I’ll have to look into if anyone has already done it.” she pushes up her glasses. “Anyway you want to use the AV room to record your video, right?”

“My what now?”

“Your audition tape!” She takes one video tape from a box to show as an example. “Don’t worry the tapes are private and the camera won’t start recording until you press the button on its control panel.”

Well that....was sort of comfortable he guesses. He nods and hesitantly made his way inside. The AV room looked a lot different then he thought it would. Most chairs were put up to the side, a square made of white tape stood on the wooden floor in front of a large television set and a camera mounted to the top of it. Gulping to himself, Kokichi gets closer to the camera. His shiny blueish purple hair illuminated the television screen as his pale face hides his features behind his bangs.

He reached up both hands and quickly slapped his face. Now wasn’t the time to be timid and scared. He had to do this. For his friends, for the children of the world, for Maki, for DICE.

Clearing his throat, Kokichi puts up the biggest smile he could.

Then moves the bangs out of his face a little, and finally presses the record button.

“Hello adoring public, the name is Kokichi Ouma of Tokyo Japan! That’s right, the kid who hid away with a group of orphans for so long!” They should remember the story, after all it was worldwide news when it happened. Then he places his hands behind his head in an attempt to look more laid back. “I’ve led a whole raid on Tokyo, though we didn’t do anything illegal...yet.” He does his famous evil smile, his finger to his lips. “I’m an AVID fan of the Killing Games and who better to be in it than me~? I promise I will be the most interesting contestant you’ve ever had~!”

And with that he stopped the tape. That lie hurt to say, it felt gross even coming out of his mouth. But he had to. He had to for the sake of his family. Now it was done. He won’t even tell the kids back at the orphanage he did it. If he gets in he gets in.

Now all there was to do was to go back to his classes like normal. Though he could have sworn he saw the blue haired girl watching him closely as he leaves...

——————

Days went by and there was nothing out of the ordinary. No announcements, no more audition try outs or blue haired glasses girl, just normal every day school day. Again the children woke him up by pranks, this time a bucket of cold ice water, making him scream high pitched before laughing and taking the joke. Then downstairs there were breakfast and the kids watching the Daganronpa rerun, and then it was off to school.

The day was normal. There was nothing odd.

Weeeelll...except for that black car following him. He could have sworn he heard someone ask if “that was the guy” and the other one affirming with a “yes”. Oh Lord legs don’t fail him now.

He tries to leg it but was quickly swooped up by...grey people?! That’s as much as he could see before he was grabbed. As he struggled for freedom, he could feel something get shot into him, like the booster shots they get. It did hurt for a second, and Kokichi did twist and thrash for dear life, but suddenly his body felt...sleepy. He lets the exhaustion overcome him before he’s knocked out like a light.

[i-need-entertainment]

Dreams Can Come True: Chapter 7 Stood Up

Chapter 6-Chapter 8

Chrono walked down the hallway and towards Eri’s room to ask Y/n out on a date. As he made his way there, he couldn’t help but be a little nervous, okay, yeah so she had basically told him she wouldn’t say ‘no’, but it also didn’t mean she’d say yes either. He got to Eri’s door and knocked, his little girl running to the door and opening it. 

“Daddy! You’re awake!” He chuckled as he kneeled down and ruffled her hair. “Yep! I sure am kiddo.” “Are you all better? Why is your arm still in the holder?” “Well, daddy got some pretty serious injuries, so I have to wear the sling,” He motioned to his left arm, “So daddy’s ouchies can get better.” “Oh, okay daddy.” Eri gave her daddy a kiss on his cheek and walked back over to her dollhouse to keep playing. “Hey Eri, I’m going to steal Y/n for a minute, is that okay?” “Yup!” Chrono motioned for Y/n to follow him outside. They left the room and went into the hallway, cracking the door closed behind them. “Hey, so I was wondering…if you’d like to go on a date with me this Saturday?” (Today is Monday.) Y/n was shocked, I mean, she knew she shouldn’t have been Nemoto made it pretty obvious he liked her, but still! “I mean, if you don’t want to it’s fine-“ “No! I’d love to go on a date with you Kurono! Really!” Y/n and Chrono were both smiling widely at the other, “So, I’ll pick you up at 6?” Y/n laughed “6 it is, do you need my address?” She joked, “I think I’ll manage.” The two just stood there, both still not comprehending that they were indeed going on a date. “YES!” Eri said, jumping up and down next to the pair, while Setsuno and Nemoto high fived, and Pops was smiling. “Congratulations Hari, now get some rest. You’ll have to be all healed up for your date on Saturday.” The elder said, as he dragged Setsuno and Nemoto back to the living room to give the up-and-coming couple some space. “Ah, sorry Eri, I probably should have asked you if it was okay first.” Chrono said looking down to Eri. “It’s okay with me! I want you and Mommy to date!” This made the two adults blush, but they both happily smiled. Me too They both thought. Soon after Eri went back inside her room to do whatever 6 year old’s these days do, and Chrono and Y/n started to part ways. “Okay, so I’ll pick you up at 6.” Y/n nodded, “Mhm, Oh! How should I dress?” Chrono thought for a minute, “Dress nice.” “Okay then, I’ll see you later Kurono~” With that, Y/n walked back inside Eri’s room, and Chrono triumphantly went back to his room to try and get as healed up as he can before his date.

~Time skip to Saturday 😊~

Y/n stood in front of her mirror in the third dress, desperately trying to figure out what to wear. Luckily for her sanity (And mine ngl) she decided this was the one. A knee length Navy blue dress, with long sleeves and a decorative neck line that showed off a little, but not too much, cleavage. She also wore some nice heels and jewelry. She wore some simple make up and had her hair down and straightened (or curled or up, or what ever you prefer!!) a few minutes later, she heard a knock on her bedroom door. She excitedly went over to it and opened it, revealing a very nicely dressed Chronostasis. He was wearing a blue button up with a navy blue blazer and pans, paired with some gray dress shoes. She felt the familiar blush make it’s way to her face as she gave him a smile. He then handed her a bouquet of daisies. “Oh my gosh! You remembered!” She quickly went into her room and put them in a vase, and walked back to Chrono’s awaiting arm. “Are you ready?” He smiled at her, “I sure am.” She smiled back, took his arm, and the two were off for their long awaited date. They made it to the nice restaurant and sat down, looking at the menu. “Good evening Ma’am, Sir,” Chrono looked at the waiter, he seemed…familiar? He brushed it off. He probably just saw him on the street or something. “Can I get you both started with something to drink?” The two ordered their drinks and the waiter came back a few moments later with their drinks. *POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING SKIP IF NECESSARY!* Y/n noticed her drink tasted a bit off, but she didn’t think much of it! She had a date to focus on! They were talking, having a great time, until Y/n noticed her head felt light, “Excuse me for a moment Kurono, I’m going to the restroom, I’ll be back in a moment.” She forced a smile and somehow made it to the bathroom door, then, she passed out. An unknown man (Unknown to her…) dragged her out the back, and into a van, heading off to a certain location. *END OF POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING*

~PSA: Sorry to disrupt the story, but this is something everyone should read! ESPECIALLY FEMALES! If you ever go out, and suspect someone has messed with your drink TELL SOMEONE! Some bars have a special ‘drink order’ you can tell the bartender if you think your drink has been messed with! The how ever much money you paid for your drink is not worth the danger! Go out with a group of friends you trust, and try not to leave your drink alone, if you do have to leave it, leave it with a VERY trusted friend/ family member or finish it first. Sadly, there are evil people in this world who do evil things, but making yourself a more difficult target can help you! Please please PLEASE stay safe!!! ~

Chrono waited 5, 10, and 15 minutes but she still hadn’t come back. Was she okay? She seemed just fine. He got up from his table to knock on the bathroom door, but there was no answer. He went back to his table to see if he had missed her, but when she was not there as well, it hit him. She had ditched him…Left him alone on their first, and seemingly last date. He paid the small bill and left for the hide out, upset and broken hearted. He walked into the hideout headed straight to Y/n’s room to tell her to ‘forget it’, and that ‘she didn’t have to say yes if she didn’t want to go’. But when he knocked on her door, he was once again met with silence. Pretty fed up with this sort of treatment already, he just opened the door, only to be met with…no one. He closed the door and headed to Eri’s room…but only Eri and Rappa to be having a tea party. He left the room and headed to the kitchen/living room. “Why are you home My Boy, I thought you were on a date?” Chrono brushed off the elder’s question and started frantically looking around, something wasn’t right. “Has anyone seen Y/n?” Setsuno looked confused, “Uhh no? We kinda figured she’d be with you.” Chrono cursed himself for being so stupid. How could he have just left!? What If she was still there! Or worse! “*Ahem*” They all turned their heads to see a distraught looking Overhaul holding his phone. “Hari…you might want to see this…” He sadly said, giving his friend his phone. Chrono took the phone and dropped it, the phone only barely being caught by Setsuno who’s face went pale. In the picture was Y/n, tied unconscious to a chair, mouth gagged and feet restrained. How could he have been so…so.. ignorant!! He should have trusted his gut! Not ran! The room fell silent as the phone started to ring, they all looked at the phone to see the caller ID, Ken Hashimoto.

 A/N:…Sorry I couldn’t help myself!! XD! A little drama never hurt anyone, right…? (Well maybe except for Y/n and the people reading this RIP) I hope you enjoyed this chapter~ And that you remember who Ken Hashimoto is, he’s the bad guy from like, two chapters ago who SOMEHOW survived for my own- I mean the story’s plot  DEFINITELY not for my own convenience 😊 I hope wherever you are, you’re staying safe and having a great day/night! Bye!

[overobsessivewhumper]

Mutt’s new home 2

I’m bad at naming things i write... Anyway, here’s part two! I had a tone of fun writing this, despite all the mistakes i made with the tenses...

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Trigger warnings: mention of blood and burns and stuff

Tag list: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @burtlederp @im-not-rare-im-rarr @comfortforthepain @18-toe-beans

To say that Gavin had no idea what the hell he was doing, would be an understatement. He’d never want anything to do with any Pet in the first place, and most definitely never wanted one as his own. He couldn’t have dealt with a Pet under any circumstances, and sure as hell couldn’t deal with one as scared as this one. He had no idea what to do. He didn’t want to frighten or stress him out, but had no idea how to avoid that. But he tried his best to just focus on tending to the injuries of the young man. Gavin crouched down in front of the couch once again.

“Could you please stop hugging your legs to your chest? Please? I just want to help you…” He complied without hesitation, albeit still shaking like a leaf. Now Gavin could get a good look at the man sitting before him. He could quickly summarize that he had no idea where to start. Mutt looks an absolute mess, and Gavin’s skills in first-aid weren’t the best. But he’d took a course a year or two ago, and remembered some of the things he’d learnt. First, he tried to prioritize what looks the worst from what looks more minor.

A dark bruise covers his right cheek, and other more faded-out ones cover his jaw and area around the eyes. A not too old looking cut lays high on his right cheek, and there are abrasions covering his jaw in places. Gavin guesses the latter is due to the muzzle. Bruises cover Mutt’s neck, probably from choking, and shoulders. Gavin reaches out and carefully prods the man’s clavicle and gets greeted with a whimper in response.

“Sorry…” Mutt doesn’t show any sign of having heard him.

After doing the same with his other collarbone, Gavin thinks that it’s safe to say they both seem intact, despite all the bruising. The same goes for his ribs. The bruising there is still dark in spots, but all in all, it appears more faded. The criss-cross of new and old cuts, some looking almost fresh and still bleeding, others already healing or scars. His left side bears an injury, that on closer inspection, turns out to be some sort of burn or scald. Curiosity drowned out by common sense Gavin doesn’t press Mutt on the subject. His legs look a similar state to his chest, though there seems to be more burns here. Specifically two pretty nasty ones in either crook of his knee. Gavin only finds out about these when he tries to shift Mutt’s knee to take a better look at it, slipping his hand under it. The man lets out a pained howl which he quickly tries to quench by biting into the side of his hand.

“Shit! Sorry! Sorry…” Leaning down a bit more, Gavin tries to see what caused such a reaction. The ugly burns that he discovers shock him. “Shit… That looks bad… Shit.” Gavin feels sick. It sickens him that someone would treat another person like this. “Shit. I’m really sorry.” Not knowing what to say, Gavin continued looking at the rest of Mutt. Next to a probably sprained ankle and some healing cuts at the bottom of his feet there was nothing too different from the rest. There seem to be a lot of scars hinting at past injuries, like long scars covering the bottom of his feet and palms of his hands, and the scars at his left shoulder, knee and some on both of his hands probably from breaks that needed medical attention. And his back was most definitively a mess. Scars cris-cross in each direction, with fresher welts and cuts that lay over those.

Gavin has to take a moment to breath an think. He stands up and takes a few steps away from him. Pacing back and forth, tugging at his shirt nervously, he tries to get his act together. He knows he shouldn’t be thinking about himself right now, but he was finding it hard to process this all. At the start of the night he was thinking about if his hair didn’t look like he was trying too hard to look smart, and now he was the owner of an injured and traumatized Pet who has probably seen more abuse and pain dealt to him then Gavin could even imagine. What was he going to do? He couldn’t just… fix the damage and wrongs Mr. Hughes and others had done to the man like one would fix a car with a dented hood. Taking a deep breath Gavin pushes his nerves away as best he can, and turns back to the matter at hand. Mutt is trying to sit still, but can’t stop the trembling in his limbs. Gavin walks back over to him and crouches down.

“I’m… I’m going to try to take care of your injuries the best I can now. Some of it will probably hurt, so please tell me to stop if it’s too much, or I’m doing something wrong. I’ll… Yeah, I’ll just start if that’s okay…” Slowly, Mutt nods.

He starts by trying to clean any open wound with water and disinfectant. If he learnt something in the first-aid course he attended, it’s that you should clean open wounds thoroughly. The man was obviously trying his best to stay quiet, and was scarily good at it too. The fist time he let any kind of sound out being when Gavin pressed the wet cloth to the burn on his flank. He let out a quiet whine, closely followed by a hasty, frantic apology. Gavin made sure to assure him that it was okay for him to let out noises of pain if the pain got too bad and hoped it didn’t sound like he just wanted to hear his Pets pain being vocalized. Tending to his back and the nasty burns in the crooks of his knees lead to more pained whimpering, and Gavin had to stop for a while to let him breath whilst treating the latter. Gavin soon notices that he’ll need to buy more first-aid supplies, especially bandaging materials. But he has about enough to get the open wounds covered more or less.

Taking a look at the man, Gavin decides that it won’t be getting any better then this. To be honest, Mutt does not look any better at all. Now he just looks unwell and covered in bandages and plasters and such. Gavin sighs and rests his face in his hands.

“How are you holding up? Would you like an Advil?”

Scrunching his face up in confusion and leaning forwards, Mutt inquires “Ad… Advil?”

“Um… It’s a painkiller.”

“I… With… With all d… due respect Sir, I know wh… what Advil is…” Mutt ducks his head, like he’s expecting to be slapped. “I… I was just wondering… Why was… waste medicine on… on a… a Pet, Sir?”

Gavin messes with his hair whilst trying not to plot his boss’s murder. “I… I don’t see it as wasting medicine if I give it to someone that needs it. And I think you could use an Advil…”

“R… really, sir?”

“Yeah… Also, no need to call me Sir…” Gavin grabbed the box of Advil and a glass of water, handing both to the man sitting on his couch, who takes it looking unbelievably grateful. “It probably won’t take the pain away completely, but might… take the edge off. I don’t know… I’m not a pharmacist or a doctor…” Nervously Gavin runs his hand through his hair again and smiles a little bit awkwardly.

��Thank you Mas…” Mutt stops himself, takes a deep breath and tries again. “Thank you Ga… Gavin.”

Gavin laughs awkwardly. “No need to thank me. You shouldn’t have to be in pain…” For a moment, Gavin zones out, just staring off into the distance. Until he suddenly snapped out of it when he realized that Mutt was still only wearing those short white pants, that basically where essentially just boxer shorts, and that he still hadn’t offered him something to eat.

“Wait here a moment…” Gavin started to go off to look for a  clean pair of pyjamas for his… guest. “I’ll be right back!” It didn’t take him long to find something. A light-grey, short-sleeved top, and a pair of light-blue pyjama trousers. Both where relatively loose and mad of soft cotton.

Rushing back downstairs and handing the man the cloths and telling him to put them on, Gavin leaves to give him some privacy. So he goes to the kitchen to try and find something for him to eat. Gavin guessed he’d probably had pretty sparse meals whilst living with his previous master, so he opted to try and find something not all too heavy.

After checking the fridge and cupboards, he decides to make a bag of alphabet soup. Broth seems to be the go-to food for people who haven’t been eating for a while or are sick, and something warm was sure to be a good idea. He put the kettle on and went to check on the man. He was sitting on the couch again, trembling lightly.

“I… Uhh… Put the kettle on to make you some broth. I hope that’s okay.” Mutt nods eagerly. “So… would you like to… sit at the table until it’s done?”

“Sit… at a table? I’m all… allowed on furniture?” Gavin nods. The man gets up, looking slightly unstable. Gavin moves closer, letting Mutt lean on him. The way to the table is a bit slow, but no one ends up falling over, so Gavin sees it as a success. Sitting down, the man winces.

“Shit… Um… What’s causing you pain?” Looking him over, Gavin’s nerves return full force. What if he had overseen something? What if he had internal injuries? A look of shock crosses Mutt’s face and staring at Gavin with wide eyes he replies.

“It’s no… nothing new… Jus… just the abrupt change of posture pu… pulling at the injuries. Also the burns on my l… legs.” Gavin was surprised at Mutt’s lack of trying to hide his pain, but was happy he was being honest.

“Oh. Maybe if you move a bit forwards on the chair it won’t touch the burns?” Mutt doesn’t hesitate to do what Gavin told him to do. Gavin smiles, hoping he’s more comfortable now. Suddenly springing into action, Gavin broke the silence.

“I’ll get you the broth. You just… stay here and try to relax I guess.” Gavin shrugged, and went back into the kitchen. He made the soup in a bowl, making sure to ad a bit of cold water, to make sure it wasn’t too hot. Grabbing a spoon from a drawer, he made his way to the table. He put the soup down in front of the man who he now apparently owned, and smiled.

“Eat up. Or… don’t. I’m not forcing you to do anything.” He shrugs. “Just… eat as much as you feel like eating.” Thankfulness spreads over Mutt’s facial expression, and, still a little hesitantly, he starts to take spoonful after spoonful of soup.

Gavin takes the moment of relative calm to sit down on one of the other chairs, using his elbow to prop up his head. A wave of tiredness overcomes him. Well it was like… two in the morning, right? Gavin had no idea. He knew it would have to be early, but he wasn’t wearing a watch, and his mobile was probably in his jacket. All he knew, was that he was tired. Trying to keep awake and focused, he tried to concentrate on the man sitting at the same table as him. That did work for a while, but not for long. Soon his thoughts drifted, and his focus waned and not even the feeling of his face hitting the table could snap him back to reality.