#upset that I got confused and blew up when I walked into the patch of mushrooms that confuse you and blow you up

[prettypinkbubbless]

Lord am I so bad at this video game, but lord if I am not having the time of my life playing this video game.

[wthtorke]

Incandescent (Kofi commission)

Kofi one shot commission by  Insta is day_of_mayhem! 

(I might have gone off on this one lmao Enjoy!)

Incandescent. 

The night had been quiet, the trees softly hustling against one another as the wind blew. First, it was the strange noise.

From your little house in the woods, a sharp noise rattled through your bed, making you jump up in surprise.  Running to the window, you saw what could only be described as a falling star, coming quickly towards your house.

You could barely brace yourself against the windowsill as the star ripped through the clouds, falling far into the woods. Panting and scared, you looked for any signs of it. Any burning trees, smoke, noise coming from the general direction where it fell. You found none. 

From the window, you caught sight of your truck, still parked in the driveway. Grunting to yourself, you made your decision as you grabbed a coat and the wooden axe from the fireplace, running to your car, hoping to find the fallen star before anyone else did.

Gripping the steering wheel hard enough your knuckles turned white, you drove through the path in the forest, stopping when even more strange noises reached your ears.

Stopping your car, you tilted your head slightly, trying to catch it again. Seconds passed before a sudden blast made you jump, looking into the direction a flash of light also happened. Leaving the car, you held the axe close to your chest as you slowly walked towards the noise, breathing quickly as you did.

From the trees behind you, a slick, black ridged tail moved quietly as its owner's drool fell onto the tree branches, slowly stalking towards you. 

'Hssssssss..' 

Eyes widening, you turned around in time to see a black creature jumping from the tree, arms outstretched and claws ready to tear into you. 

Falling to the ground, the creature landed heavily on you, claws grappling your axe handle as you barely had time to process its weight before shiny, sharp fangs closed itself repeatedly before your face. 

You only realized you were screaming when the creature shifted its weight to your chest, cutting your air as it reeled back to strike one final time to kill you.

Closing your eyes in fear, you could only open them again as an animalistic roar reached your ears, and then the crushing weight wasn't there anymore, a screech and a heavy, wooden thud following suit. The creature had been rammed from on top of you, instead hitting the tree it jumped from hard in its back, falling to the ground, briefly shaken. 

You took your chance to get up as well and dart between the trees, out of the creature's way. You only bothered looking for whatever had knocked it out of you when the black creature hissed into another direction, and you realized there was absolutely nothing there. 

Still, under the dim moonlight, the creature leaped into nothingness, surprisingly landing on the thin air, snapping and hissing, swinging its tail around. You watched as it tried to hit something with its piercing tail. With a roar, you jerked back as it seemed to hit its goal, whatever was beneath it started zapping and glowing with failing electrical power, soon revealing what the thing was perched on as it didn't stop its struggles for one second. 

At this point, you had come to the conclusion that they were indeed aliens, and the star was no star but probably a ship that crash landed, even if you had no idea where it was now. The stream of roaring and screaming snapped you out of your thoughts, the massive humanoid alien trying to shake the creature from it’s back as best as it could, while still trying to dodge its deadly tail.

You looked around, your fight or flight instincts screaming at you to do something, anything. Looking at the dark forest behind you, you had no idea if there were other alien serpents around or more alien warriors to help this one. It was when the serpent's tail pierced the warrior's arm and you saw bright green blood explode everywhere that you took action.

Running towards both of them with your axe in hand. 

Your decision was made as the blade of your weapon sunk into the black creature’s back, it’s startled shrill making your ears ring as it’s tail hit you hard in the chest, both making you fly a few feet back and thankfully escape it’s weird fizzing blood that you’d later come to know was pure acid. 

You shook your head as you tried to breathe again, all the air knocked out from your lungs as you landed on your back. Your vision threatened to darken as you sat up, trying to spot where the aliens were.

Slowly your ears started focusing again as did your eyes, permitting you to see that not only was the black serpent not on top of the alien warrior anymore as said warrior was about to jam it’s blades into the serpent’s throat. The most intense occurrence of all your life didn’t last more than 5 minutes it seemed.

Getting up on your wobbly feet, you noticed just about how much blood there was around the ground. You watched as the warrior clutched his side, chest rising and falling as he stared at you, and while he could absolutely kill you if he so wanted, he didn’t.

Not that you were opposed to that, of course.

You felt the adrenaline die down in your blood, the cold air finally making you shiver a bit. You looked at who you supposed was a ‘he’ and back towards the general direction of your car. If his ship had truly crashed, he was stranded. Hurt and stranded.

“Safe,” You said, pointing back where your car was, “Together…?” You questioned, montioning between you and him with your less hurt hand. He took a few moments to analyze the situation before making his decision. He was hurt, more so than he’d like to admit, but less than he’d be if you hadn’t shown up. He nods, slowly, unsure, later following you to the truck, all but hauling himself up the back of the pickup truck. ‘I’ll definitely need to hose that down in the morning.’ You thought as you saw the green blood streaks as you got into the driver's seat.

The drive back was smooth, no longer fueled by raw fear and adrenaline. You felt tired, maybe because of the bruises forming where you got hit or well, the fact that this was more action than you had since….Well, ever. Getting home, you didn’t really know why you snuck him through the garage door, you had no neighbors and no family living with you but somehow it seemed the right thing to do, he was an alien after all.

He seemed to know the concept of showering, at least. He washed all the dirt and grime off of his body and you were more than a little upset at yourself that you didn’t see him take off his mask, only noticing your mistake when he got out of the bathroom and the metal was so clean it was sparkling. 

You watched as he sat in your living room and started patching himself up. While he wasn’t bleeding profusely anymore, the roaring surely gave you chills down your spine as he plunged some kind of needle into his thigh, pumping the syringe’s contents into his system before sewing his wound shut.

You pointed at the couch and told him to make himself at home, as far as that could go, anyway. You passed out as soon as you hit the pillow, your body paying no mind to the huge alien downstairs.

The next morning, he was gone.

 As much as you were expecting it, it still felt...odd. Like some kind of fever dream. Only you knew it happened by the state of your house and garage. If you didn’t know it was an alien, you’d have thought a wild bear had wrecked your house. The floor was muddy, some things were out of place or straight up on the floor while some you couldn’t tell if they were touched at all. 

Sighing, you gathered the broom, mop and trash bags to start your new mission; Cleaning the house. 

Cleaning was usually boring, but this time it just felt restless. Even as your favorite songs played in the background. Of course, no alien could just have a slumber party in some human’s house but still, much had happened yesterday. You wondered when the government’s men were going to burst through your window and shoot a sedative up your arm because you’ve had alien interaction. 

You were cleaning the kitchen cupboards when a reflection that very much wasn't your own caught your attention in the mirror. Squinting a bit, you jumped back when your eyes focused and revealed your guest's reflection, only his position was right behind you. "FUCK-” You turned around quickly, hitting your knee in the process, ”When did you get here?! God-," You started coughing a bit from the sudden intake of air.

You looked back at him when you heard strange noises coming from his helmet, almost like someone was tuning a radio before the words became clear, recordings.

"No-, trails."

You blinked in confusion for a second before realizing what he meant, slight dread setting in your gut at the prospect that an alien could speak, or well, play recordings of english to you. "Trails-, in the forest? Wow..that’s, that’s very nice, actually, hadn’t thought of that,” you thought over your next words, taking in his huge form as you did, “You’re headed home now, I suppose?”

He shook his head, motioning to his still tender wounds from yesterday’s battle against the serpent.

The serpent.

“Oh, Um-, That thing is dead, right?”

He nodded, “Exterminated. Contained.”

Contained.

“Great, great-, well, if you’re not planning to kill me and take over my house, you’re um...very welcome to stay?” You said, a bit unsure.

He nodded, walking over silently towards your garage door, you heard rummaging around, following to see him picking up after a broken vase you didn’t remember was there.

He was a considerate roommate, you could say. Wherever this alien came from, he knew of common sense, or just had a very strict mama as he helped in the chores he could. You suspected he didn’t trust you to clean his trails properly, but you weren’t complaining of free help.

Another thing you could tell is that he learned fast. Very fast. 

He’d been skeptical of you, at first. You’d never catch him sleeping or eating, always the same passive expression of his mask looking back at you. You couldn’t blame him, but even then, it was hard not to speculate what was underneath it. Did he look like Davy Jones? The Shape? He didn’t seem to be aquatic. Maybe a lizard? His skin was mottled like one, at least. 

3 months passed by before you both had that feeling. He’d been here for too long. His wounds were beyond healed, no one had shown up for him, no government, no other aliens, nothing. You’d seen him mess with his wrist gauntlet a few times, seen him test the cloaking device he had, it worked. 

So, why was he still here?

  It was on a similar night that you met him that you mustered the courage to ask.

The stars were bright, as was the moonlight. The breeze was soft, you both sat outside for a bit, looking into the forest. He told you he feared they’d come at night. You guessed he spoke of other humans, the kind that would want to study him alive, in the name of ‘science’, and he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Are you waiting for your people to come get you? Have you sent a signal yet?”

“Yes.”

Your breath hitched a bit, the cold air around you prickling at your skin. “Oh-, well...have they replied?”

“Yes.”

You nodded, “So, I guess they’ll be coming soon, right?”

You waited for another robotic ‘Yes’ to hit your ears, to shatter your fantasy of living a nice life with him, somehow.

“No.”

“No?” You asked, lifting your head to look at him, “Why not?”

He turns to look at you for a second, at least you could assume he was looking at you behind the mask.

With that, he lifted his hands to the object of your speculation during the last 3 months, fingers slowly snapping off tubes that connected it to the rest of his armor with an audible ‘Fzzzzz’.

You held your breath as he hooked his fingers around the mask, snapping it off as well. He hovered the mask for a second before slowly lowering it away from his face.

You could feel your pupils dilate as you took in the sight of him, the spiky crown around his forehead, the mottling, so similar to the rest of his body, going down to his eyes, you lingered there for a moment, taking in how yellow they looked, and how they were staring directly into your own.

You gulped as you kept lowering your gaze, spotting the fangs, the tusks, the strong jaws that could very much clamp around your neck right now, if he so wanted. Everything about him screamed predator before, but now, having the last piece of the puzzle, you could only think of one word to describe him.

Perfect.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding when his hand touched yours, so tender, mindful of his talons, yet still enveloping your cold ones in warmth. You looked up at him, fingers slowly squeezing his own, an attempt to show him you weren’t afraid, just stunned.

“Stay.” He said, in a much deeper voice than any he’d ever played for you before. His voice.

You only realized you were crying when the tears caught in between the crinkles of your smile, stopping their journey straight down your face, giving them a shortcut to falling down your chin, to where his other hand was raising up, gently tipping your face up, as he lowered his own, pressing your foreheads together.

“Stay.” You repeated, in a much quieter, shakier voice than his, but with every bit of intention behind it, still smiling as he squeezed your hand again.

Suddenly, the night didn’t feel nearly as cold anymore, nor did it feel as lonely as it once did.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Cherry Wine

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peters new girlfriend isn’t what she seems

WARNING: domestic abuse

Masterlist

Lorina Dodson.

Peters girlfriend of two months now. You and Ned didn’t think they’d last more than a week but they had somehow managed to surpass all expectations.

You tried to be happy for Peter, but you just could my figure out what he saw in her. She was rude, volatile , and had a mean streak to her. It took all your will power not to get down on your knees and beg Peter to break up with her. Not even because you were in love with him, which was Ned’s running theory, but because he wasn’t happy. You weren’t blind to the look he got on his face when she came around. Not to mention that he came back from hanging out with her looking sadder and more worn down than before. Peter didn’t like to talk about his relationship much and you didn’t understand until one night when he came to your room for patching up.

“They got you pretty good tonight, didn’t they?” You chuckled softly as you dabbed hydrogen peroxide on Peters busted lip. He had come to you for repairs before since he lived across the street and you were usually able to joke around about how neat up he had gotten. Tonight, the misty look in his eyes told you he wasn’t in the mood for joking.

“Something like that.” Peter smiled sadly, winching a little when you blew on his cut.

“Sorry.” You spoke softly and looked in his eyes. You could see the redness surrounding his eyelids and put your supplies down. “What happened tonight?”

“I got my confidence shaken pretty badly.” Peter shrugged and refused to meet your eyes.

“Maybe you should tell Lorina about your double life.” You suggested. “I can always patch you up but I can’t exactly kiss it better.”

As much as you disliked his girlfriend, and the fact that he had a girlfriend in the first place, you knew there were some things only a girlfriend could fix. You couldn’t take Peter into your arms and comfort him the way she could. Peter shook his head and looked up at you with tears in his eyes.

“I don’t think I’m where I’m supposed to be.” His voice cracked and you immediately wrapped your arms around him. You held him against your tummy and stroked his hair to soothe him.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“She won’t let me be.” He cried and buried his face in your shirt.

“Lorina?”

“We fight all the time.” He sniffled. “I feel like I can’t grow as long as I’m with her. She’s keeping me in one place and I don’t want to be there anymore.”

“Can’t you just break up with her?” You thought the solution was obvious.

“I tried but,” he shrugged in misery, “she said I was all she had. She started freaking out and saying she-“

“Shhh.” You cut him off when you saw how worked up he was getting. “It’s okay. I understand.”

“That’s not even that half of it.” He whimpered and your face twisted in confusion.

“What do you mean?” You wondered.

“I can’t tell you.” He began to cry again. “I’m sorry.”

You looked out your window, deep in thought as you comforted Peter. Something about his relationship wasn’t right but you didn’t want to push him for information when he was already upset. You let him lay down on your bed and rubbed his back until he fell asleep. Sleep was a stranger to you that night as you laid awake, wondering what Lorina had done to make him that upset.

~

“Ugh! Peter totally bailed on me again.” Lorina’s voice snapped you out of your daydream of that night with Peter. “How many times he can forget he has a science project due the next day?”

You gave her a fake smile and cursed Peter briefly for leaving you alone with her. You knew he had to run off on an unexpected Spider-Man escapade, but Lorina didn’t know that.

Or need to know.

“Thats Peter for you. You’re gonna have to get used to that.” You told her with false sympathy and began to walk towards your apartment.

“Whatever.” She grumbled and eyed you’re for a moment. “What about you? Do you want to hang out?”

You stopped in your tracks and shut your eyes tightly as she asked exactly what you didn’t want her to ask.

“Oh, that’s okay.” You turned around and gave her a tight smile.

“No, I think we should.” She was blind to your indifference. “Peter wants us to be friends, anyway.”

“Sure. Why not?” You reluctantly agreed and followed her in the opposite direction. She began to describe a fight she got into with a teacher while you half listened. The more time you spent with her, the less you understood what Peter saw in her. When she began to curse out a teacher you always liked, you fully tuned her out. Your attention shifted to a child crying outside of a jewelry store. He was looking around and unattended, giving the impression that he was lost.

“I’ll be right back.” You told Lorina and walked over to the little kid.

“Whatever.” She mumbled, not bothering to look up from her phone as she took a seat outside a bakery.

You jogged across the street and knelt down in front of the little kid.

“Hey, buddy.” You gave him a gentle smile. “Need some help?”

It didn’t take long for him to dial his moms number and tell her where he was. Frankly, you wish it took longer. His mother came back in no time and gave you a grateful smile as she hugged her son. You smiled at the family and went back to Lorina across the street.

“Who was that?” Lorina cocked an eyebrow at the child and his mom who were now walking away.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged and sat back down. “He couldn’t find his mom so I let him use my phone.”

“You let a random little kid touch your phone?” She asked in disgust.

“Of course, he was lost.” You said simply. “Plus, I love kids so it didn’t bother me.”

“I hate little kids.” Lorina laughed and sunk back in her chair. “My sister ran over my foot with her bike last year and totally broke like half my toes. I started hitting her and my stupid neighbors called the police. They didn’t even care that she started it.”

You looked to the side to shield your shocked expression and quickly composed yourself.

“Oh, wow.” You squeaked out and cleared your throat. You looked am back at her with hope that she was joining but her face was completely serious.

“It was the literally the stupidest thing.” She rolled her eyes. “I had to go to these like, court ordered anger management classes for a year. Can you believe that?”

“No, I can’t.” You answered honestly. You wondered if Peter knew about her anger issues and feared for him if he did.

“It’s whatever. It was that or jail, so.” She shrugged like normal people had to decided between court ordered classes or jail. You laughed awkwardly and tried to think in excuse to get away from this girl.

“What happened to your sister?” You asked, already anxious for her response.

“She was such a baby about. My dad totally took her side and moved out. I don’t care though. I’m much happier without her.” She scoffed and went back to texting.

“I’m sorry about your dad moving out.” You tried to show sympathy. “Do you miss him?”

“Please.” She laughed at your words. “He hated me ever since I broke my little sisters arm. And that was like, three years ago and he still couldn’t let it go. It was her fault that time too. I told her if she went in my room one more time I was gonna twist her arm and literally the next day I find her in my room.”

“So what happened?”

“I did what I said.” She stated. “I twisted her arm but she was like 6 so it broke and I had to get removed from the house for three days. God, I hate that brat.”

You stared at her in bewilderment but she was too busy texting to notice. You got a sick feeling in your stomach as you thought back to your conversation with Peter. Was this what he meant by not being able to tell you the half of it?

“Does Peter know about this?” You asked quietly, praying he had no idea about her violent streak.

“No. You don’t tell your boyfriend these things. It’s not like he ever talks to me anyway. He’s always hanging out with you.” She gave you the side eye and you didn’t know if you should be relieved just yet. Just because he didn’t know about her past doesn’t mean he hadn’t experienced her present.

“Sorry about that.” You said sheepishly. “You guys hung out last night though, right?”

“Yeah. We had a fight though. But I think I fixed the problem. He’s not gonna mess up again.” She said with a confidence that sent a chill down your spine.

“I’m glad you guys could work it out.” You said with a dry mouth. Your eyes drifted down to her knuckles, which were red and bruised. She saw you staring and pulled her hands into her sleeves so you couldn’t see them anymore. You quickly looked away and pretended not to notice, but you couldn’t get the image out of your mind. Something inside you told you it was time to leave.

“I gotta go.” You stood up abruptly and gave her a fake sad face. “I forgot I have a…science project.” You hoped she wouldn’t pick up on the fact that you and Peter used the same excuse when lying, but her face told you that she did.

“Uh, sure. Go nuts.” She rolled her eyes and you took that as your cue to leave. As soon as you had your back to her, your face twisted in fear. Something was going on that Peter sent telling you about. And if he wasn’t gonna tell you, you were gonna get it out of him.

~

“How was patrol last night?” You started your plan to get the truth out of Peter off slowly. He was hanging out with you Sunday night since he had been with Lorina Saturday night. He had to work out a schedule early in his relationship to make sure he had time to see both his girls.

He just hated the days that weren’t spent with you.

“I didn’t go out last night.” He told you. “Lorina was feeling a little neglected so I hung out with her. She told me you two hung out the other day, though.”

“Oh yeah. After school.” You thought back to your time with his girlfriend and shuddered. “She’s uh…interesting.”

“I’m glad you guys get along.” He smiled slightly and you caught sight of a forming bruise on the side of his face. You hadn’t noticed it until he turned his face into the light, and now it was all you could see.

“Hey.” You squinted your eyes and took Peters chin between your fingers. “Your eye is bruised.”

“Is it?” He touched it and winced. “Must’ve happened on patrol.”

“I thought you skipped patrol to hang out with Lorina?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Oh, right.” His face faltered. “I went on patrol after.”

“I didn’t see you on the news.” You tilted your head. You could always count on a Spider-Man sighting on the cover of a magazine the morning after patrol but hadn’t seen one that morning.

“It was a quiet night.” He lied and looked away from you.

“It was a quiet l night but you have a black eye?” You asked and the sick feeling returned to your tummy.

“Haha, yeah.” He scratched the back of his head. “Some guy punched me pretty hard.”

When he moved, his sleeve slid up his arm and you could see deep red scratches on his skin. You took his arm and inspected it closely. You had accidentally stretched yourself enough times to know what caused them.

“These are nail marks.” You looked up at him for answers. Little flakes of red nail polish were still lingering on his skin. Peter pulled his arm away and cradled it.

“She grabbed my arm pretty hard, too.” He said with a flushed face.

“I thought you said it was a guy?” You caught his slip up and Peters eyes widened in a panic. You could see him struggling to get his story straight and it only worried you further.

“It was dark. I couldn’t really tell.” He stammered. You knew Peter well enough to know when he was lying. The alternative to him getting beaten on patrol was almost too much for you to process.

“You’re bruised, Peter. What happened?” You whispered as tears came to your eyes. “I know you weren’t on patrol last night.”

“Yes, I was.” He insisted but you couldn’t believe him. You knew who gave him those bruises.

“You’re lying to me.” You protested. “Since when do you lie to me?”

“I’m not lying. I was on patrol.” He repeated with desperation. His eyes pleaded with you to drop it but you just couldn’t. You coudk the stand by and let it happen.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” You snapped and gently touched his black eye. You rubbed your thumb over the bruise as delicately as you could and thought back to Lorina’s red knuckles. Peter could see the wheels turning in your brain and white hit fear went through him.

“Did she do this?” You whispered and Peter flinched slightly.

“Who?” Peter pretended not to know what you were talking about.

“Lorina.”

Peters face told you everything you needed to know. For a minute, he was a different person. Your typically smart and strong best friend became a pale, submissive shell of a man at the mention of her name. It was like she was in the room with you, solentikg tormenting a defenseless Peter. You could see the fear in his eyes when you said her name and it confirmed your worst nightmare.

She was abusing him.

Peter let out a few shaky breaths as he composed himself before shaking his head.

“What? Are you crazy? Why would my girlfriend hit me?” He licked his dry lips and tried to think of a better excuse.

“For the same reason she had to go to her court ordered anger management classes. She obviously had a problem with violence, Peter.” You began to cry as Peter continued to defend his abuser. You drew your hands away from his face and ran to his bathroom, puking in toilet as the sickness in your stomach finally caught up to you. You wiped your mouth and went back to Peter, who was holding himself like a child trembling. You walked up to him and said nothing, only staring him down until he confessed.

“Lorina would never hit me.” He said quietly and turned away from you. Your blood heated up inside you and he continued to lie his way out of admitting what was really going on.

“Why are you protecting her?” You yelled and Peter wiped around with a rage behind his eyes.

“Because I don’t know what to do!” He screamed and his face contorted in misery as he began to sob. “I don’t know what to do.”

You watched your best friend break down before taking him into your arms. He cried on your shoulder as you stroked his hair, in tears yourself.

“Peter…” You mumbled and pressed a sorrowful kiss to his head. Peters body shook against yours as he let out the tears he had been holding in. He pulled away after a minute and you were able to wipe his tears with your hands.

“How long has this been going on?” You asked gently as you handed him a tissue.

“She smacked me a few weeks into our relationship and she swore it would never happen again.” He sniffled.

“But it did, didn’t it?”

“Almost everyday. She just gets so mad all the time.” His voice cracked and you pulled him into another hug. “It’s never even over something I did. If she got a bad grade or got yelled at by a teacher, she takes it out on me. What did I do wrong?”

You pulled away and held his face between your hands.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” You assured him. “People like her don’t need a reason to be violent. They just are. This isn’t your fault.”

“It feels like it is.” He shrugged sadly. “If I was a better boyfriend-“

“Stop that.” You cut him off. “Don’t make excuses for her. She’s an abuser. There is nothing you did or didn’t do that made her hurt you. She would’ve done this regardless.”

“I just feel so stupid.” He whimpered. “She’s always so apologetic after she hits me, and I always forgive her. I keep believing her when she says it won’t happen again, and then it does happen again and I feel like an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot. This is not your fault.” You swore. Peters bottom lip trembled as he searched your face, latching onto you for much needed comfort.

“I don’t know how to handle this.” He shook his head. “There’s no advice for men online. No one thinks we can be the victims too.”

“I’m so sorry, Peter. I believe you.” You pulled him down on the bed and held him close. He rested his head over your heartbeat and let you play with his hair. You couldn’t heal him, but you could remind him how it felt to be loved.

“Thank you.” He mumbled in appreciation as he leaned into your touch. He could already feel himself relaxing with you.

“Has she ever made you bleed?” You wondered as you untangled a knot in his curls.

“It’s rare, but it happened a few times.” He told you. “It’s strange; when it runs into your mouth, it’s almost…sweet.”

You didn’t know what to say, not trusting your voice to be steady if you tried to speak. It killed you that Peter has endured the abuse for so long and you felt almost ashamed for not realizing he needed help sooner.

“I could hurt her.” He said suddenly. “I could hurt her with half the force she uses against me. I know that.”

“But you don’t.”

“And I never would.” He confirmed.

“I’d never expect you too. It takes a big man to have the power you have and not fight back.” You looked down at him from your position. He gave you a sad smile before looking away.

“Then why do I feel so weak?” He asked timidly.

“You’re not weak. Shes just weighing you down.” You shook your head, angry at the thought of her. A silence settled in your room, the only sounds coming from your breathing.

“Why do you stay?” You asked suddenly. You couldn’t understand how a boy as smart as Peter could stay in a relationship that was so obviously toxic.

“There was this study that if you put frogs in boiling water, they’ll jump right out. But if you put a frog in warm water and slowly raise it to a boil, it’ll stay there until it dies. That’s what an abusive relationship is like.” Peter said slowly. “She slowly raised the temperature and now I’m…”

“Dying?” You finished his sentence for him and held him tighter. “I don’t want you to stay until you die. You deserve so much better.”

“Maybe I don’t deserve better. It’s not like over ever been given better. Maybe I’m getting exactly what I deserve.” Peter spoke softly, making you sit up. You climbed on top of him and pinned him to the mattress.

“Don’t say that, okay?” You demanded as your nose almost touched Peter’s. “That’s her talking. You have value that she can’t never take away. You deserve everything good in this world. I never want to hear you say that again.”

Peter breathed heavily as he looked up at you with a pink blush on his face. You became aware of your position and rolled off of him, laying next to him on the bed.

“Thanks.” He said breathlessly as you both stared at the ceiling.

“You’re welcome.” You rolled onto your side and looked at Peter. “I’m here for you, but we can’t fix this on our own. We need to tell an adult.”

“If I tell people, everyones gonna laugh at me for not fighting back.” Peter pointed out.

“No smart person would laugh at someone strong enough to take abuse this long.” You insisted. “You’re brave for not fighting back.”

“You think?” He smiled shyly at you. You smiled back and wrapped an arm around his torso.

“I know.”

~

You spotted Lorina the next day in the courtyard, face once again buried in her phone. The principle was busy calling her parents to let her know she was no longer welcomed back at Midtown Tech. She assured you and Peter that she would call the police as soon as she contacted Lorina’s parents, but you still wanted to take matters into your own hands. You wanted to give her a going away present before she left yours and Peters life forever.

“Hey, Lorina.” You walked up to her with a big smile.

“Oh, hi Y/n.” She said without looking up.

“Peter looked pretty beat up today.” You commented and leaned against the wall. She looked up from her phone with an annoyed expression and gave you a once over.

“Look, I don’t know what he told you but-“

“He didn’t tell me anything.” You cut her off and stepped closer to her. “Even covered in your bruises, he protected you. I just figured it out.”

“Couples fight. You wouldn’t know.” She sassed you and tried to go back to her phone. You pushed her phone down and stepped in front of her to gain her full attention.

“Couples fight with their words, not their fists.” You caged her between your arms and got in her face. “And from what I understand, your fights are always one sided.”

“It’s not my fault if he can’t be a man and defend himself.” She stepped up to you with a fire in her eyes.

“Peter would never hit you because he’s a boy. But guess what?” You asked as you cracked your knuckles.

“What?” She raised an unamused eyebrow.

“I’m not a boy.” You quipped before your first collided with her face.

-

I know it’s not always gonna end like this. You’re not always gonna get to punch your abuser in the face and walk free. I just hit 5k followers. That’s 5k people who need to be educated on this. I wanted to shed some light on this topic since I have a platform that allows me to. 1 in 4 men and 1 in 3 women will experience domestic abuse in some way in their lives. If you or someone you know is experiencing this, help is out there.

National Domestic Abuse Hotline: 1−800−799−7233

National Domestic Violence Hotline

Tips

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[korra-the-red-lion]

Lonely.

I will forever be salty that LoT doesn’t let Sara explore her grief a bit more, it seems. Anyway, enjoy some angst with a happy ending!

---

Sara put down the make-up brush and stared at herself in the mirror. It wasn’t a lot, but she felt confident in what she did for herself. Lightly, she put on the finishes touches to her lips and was ready for the big event.

In just a few short hours she’d be marrying the love of her life.

But why did her heart feel so heavy? Shouldn’t she be overjoyed that she was marrying Ava? But it only took one quick glance to the photo sitting her in locket to remind her why she felt this way. Laurel and Oliver smiled up at her, their faces alive and happy. Sara picked up the locket, holding it gently in her hand. At least Oliver got to marry the life of his life, Laurel never even got that chance. Both men she loved were tragically ripped away from her, before her own life was as well.

Although Laurel told her it was the right decision, Sara couldn’t help but still feel guilty that she didn’t use the Loom of Fate to bring her back. Why did someone like her get so many chances at life yet her sister didn’t? It was a cruel thing, fate was. Sara would have gladly given one of her several returns to life in exchange for Laurel to be here on her wedding day.

And Oliver too, who would never see his daughter grow old. How was it fair that someone who gave so much and rarely asked for anything in return was not allowed this once in a lifetime opportunity. At least Mia had Felicity, who was one tough cookie. It just felt like some cosmic joke to her. Oliver wasn’t perfect, but he deserved to grow old with his wife and children.

Sara blew a frustrated breath through pursed lips. She needed to stop thinking about this. About them. Today was supposed to be about her happiness, her love. About her and Ava finally retiring from saving the universe and enjoying life. It wasn’t an easy decision for them to make, especially for her. Sara had been fighting since she was teenager. What would the domestic life feel like? Going for walks with having to watch your back? Talking about that silly thing the neighbours did with Ava? Sara honestly couldn’t even picture it in her mind.

There was a knock at her door, startling from her thoughts. Sara put on a brave face and called out, “Come in!”

Nyssa walked into the room with a smile adorning her face. Sara smiled back, but Nyssa was not fooled. She had known Sara for a very long time and knew when she was hiding her feelings. Nyssa closed the door softly before turning to face her former love.

“What is wrong, Beloved?”

Sara smiled softly at the familiar expression. “It’s nothing, really. Just got thinking.”

“Thinking about what?”

“How much I miss them,” she said, looking down at the locket again.

Nyssa nodded in understanding as she came to sit next to Sara. “I miss them as well. I cannot imagine how difficult this must be for you.”

Sara clutched the locket, holding it to her heart. “I wish they could be here to see this. I want to let them know that I only got this far because of their support. Especially Laurel’s…” the tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

“Sara…” Nyssa reached for her hand, squeezing it in comfort. “They may not be here physically, but I know Oliver and your sister. They’re watching from wherever they are currently. They would be so happy for you, so happy that you found the love they wished for you. Do you understand that?”

“I do,” said Sara with a small voice, “but that doesn’t make me miss them any less.”

Nyssa hugged Sara tightly. All she could hope was that Sara could feel her emotions through the hug. That it was okay to grief those you’ve lost, you just cannot let it consume you. Sara hugged back just as tightly, wondering when the emptiness in her heart would finally feel a little more whole.

Another knock at the door broke the pair apart. Ray stuck his head into the room, his smile instantly dropping when he saw Sara. He wasted no time in walking across the floor and scooping the tiny assassin into a bear hug.

“I have no idea what’s upsetting you, Sara, but I’m not going to let it ruin your wedding day,” he said firmly.

“Ray…”

Ray put Sara onto the floor before getting to work straightening out her wedding dress. “Sara, I’ve known you for a very long time. Heck, I think you’re my oldest friend at this point. You were there for me when Nora and I tied the knot. We were there for each other through all the hardships that we’ve face. I would never let you do this alone.” Ray stepped back to make sure there wasn’t a single wrinkle left. With a satisfied nod, Ray placed a gentle hand on Sara’s shoulder.

“You deserve happiness and peace, Sara Lance,” said Ray with watery eyes. “I believe that more than anything else in the world.”

Sara swallowed thickly while blinking out tears. “Thank you…” She fanned at her laugh with a wet laugh. “Oh God, my make-up. Ava is going to freak out if I don’t get a move on things.”

“I believe I can help with that,” said Nyssa with a smirk. She held up the eye make-up with a fire in her eyes. “I am quite good with my hands, after all.”

Sara burst out into laughter while Ray looked pleasantly confused. Together, Ray and Nyssa got Sara ready to walk down the aisle.

XXX

Quentin looked like he was trying his hardest not to cry as he walked his daughter down the aisle. Sara squeezed his arm tightly as they did, trying to keep her raging emotions in check.

“I’m so happy for you, baby,” he said in a choked whisper.

“Thanks, dad.” Sara sniffled slightly. “I’m really happy too.”

He gave her a kiss on the cheek as he left her at the alter. He joined his wife in the front row. Sara took in the crowd. Jax and his wife were here with their kids. Thea and Roy were in the crowd chatting quietly to Dinah. Sara couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow when she noticed that Dinah had her pinkie finger linked with Laurel 2.0. That was unexpected. Barry and Iris were sitting next to Kara, Alex, Lena, and Kelly. Ray waved to her, his arm linked with a very happy looking Nora, who was also waving. Mona was seated next to Gary, who was already ugly crying. Nate was on Ray’s right side, and he was beaming up at Sara, Zari holding his free hand. Charlie was with her band, providing the music for the wedding. Amaya came from the past to also watch her former captain and friend tie the knot. She was seated next to the Hawks, which they had been hard to track down, but Kendra had been Sara’s first friend aboard the Waverider, and there was no way she was going to miss this for the world. Nyssa sat with Sin, who was looking so much older than Sara last remembered.

All her friends and family were here, and it was a wonderful sight to see.

Charlie looked up towards the doorway and motioned to her band to start playing the music. Sara’s heart was beating like crazy with anticipation as the doors swung open.

Ava walked out from behind the curtains. Her smile was wide and there were already tears in her eyes as she walked towards Sara. Her dress was nothing fancy, but that’s exactly what suited her best. Mick was walking her down the aisle. They had an unlikely friendship, but Ava had helped Mick with so many things in his life, he felt it only fair to return a favour. There were tears in his eyes as he helped her up the steps. He gave Sara a quick nod before clomping back down to take his seat next to Spooner, who was sitting with Astra and Behrad.

“Alright,” said Diggle with a clearing of his throat. “Sara and Ava both asked that this not be fancy. Sara said to me, ‘I already have enough drama in my life, I don’t need it at my wedding too,’ and I couldn’t agree more.”

This drew laughs from the crowd.

“So, Sara, do you have anything you want to say to Ava?” asked Diggle.

Sara nodded quickly. “Ava, I just want to say that you’ve made me the happiest girl in the world. You just get me, and that is so important. We’ve had our rough patches, but we always got through them together. You’ve been with me through thick and thin. I love you so much that it makes me lie awake at night thinking about it. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” She smiled brightly, ignoring the tears that flowed freely down her face now.

“Ava, do you have anything you want to say to Sara?”

“Yes.” Ava took a deep shaky breath. Sara could feel the tremors in her hands as she spoke. “I hated you the first time I saw you.” Everyone laughed at that, including Sara and Ava. “But you slowly broke down my walls and taught me how to really live. If it wasn’t for you, I probably would still be working for Rip, without ever realizing the person I could have been. You helped me because the best version of me, because that’s what’s being a person is all about. Helping each other grow. I hope that we can continue to do just that, because you’ll be spending every moment with me, and I can’t wait.”

Diggle smiled at the two of them before saying. “Okay, well, go ahead then!”

Sara dipped Ava and gave her the most passionate kiss she could muster. It would take some time, but she was hopeful that Ava would help her fill the hole in her heart. She already had, in some way. Because Sara knew that this right here meant that she was no longer lonely. She would always grieve the death of her Laurel, her wonderful and beautiful sister, and her best friend in Oliver. But she also knew that Ava would always be there for her, every step of the way.

And she was ready to see where that path led.

[ashesofangst]

Sweet Memories

Trigger Warning: Broken bones; knives; character death mention

Pairing(s): Angus x Bing (septic, not iplier)

Characters: Angus and Bing (S34N but briefly and Henrik is mentioned)

Summary: Bing can't help but look back at sweet memories of Angus. If only he could get him back….

Alright, b***hes. Fluff is over, time to shove angst down your throat. And yes, I’m getting to requests, just had to finish this up first.

6/26/21

__

"There, it should be fixed," Bing told the other android as he moved back. He sat down his tools in his drawers and glanced at S34N. "Please try and break anything else this week. This is the fifth time you needed my help with something."

S34N looked at the Bing-themed android. "I'm sorry. Robbie needed to be looked after, and Henrik asked me to look after him. I'll try and break nothing else why I'm looking after him," He promised the other ego to do the best he could do. "Anyway, I'll be going now, bye." He bowed slightly and left.

Bing just waved and stared out a window. He couldn't help but think back to the memories of a better time. Well, mostly. Angus fell out of a tree and broke his arm.

~*~

"Ow! Bing, it hurts! Don't touch it," Angus screeched in pain as he freed his arm out of his boyfriend's grip. "Are you trying to break it even more?"

Bing quickly shook his head. "No, I'm just trying to see how bad it is, stay still!" Bing managed to keep the hunter still as he examined the broken arm, despite all of Angus's cries. "You seem to have a broken bone around your forearm. We should go and have Henrik look at it."

Angus pouted and shook his head. "Hell no. Da- Henrik is going to lecture me on climbing in trees. I rather not sit and listen through them." He went to yank his arm free but just ended up wincing.

"Nope, we're seeing Henrik, now," Bing stated with determination and began dragging the complaining, pouty hunter off to the hospital.

~*~

Bing chuckled at the memory. Angus ended up getting grounded, and Bing couldn't see him until his arm healed. He secretly wondered if that tree still existed. Of course, it was stupid to even be thinking of that tree....

Bing didn't care. He immediately exited his room and ran down the stairs. He looked around to make sure none of the egos were there to see him do this. Good thing there wasn't. He didn't need anyone to see his and Angus's spot.

The search engine-themed android left the house in a hurry, heading out to the forest that surrounded the house he lived in. He walked through the forest at first but then began running, wanting to their secret spot badly.

After a few minutes, he reached his destination. It was a small, grass clearing with a patch of bring yellow sunflowers sprouting from the ground. In the center of the patch was a big weeping willow. Despite how the tree was blocking out light for most of the sunflowers, the patch still looked healthy.

Bing felt happiness when he saw that the tree still stood right at their spot. He remembered when Angus first brought him there.

~*~

"I want to show you something," Angus told his friend, getting Bing's attention. "There is a place near my cabin I want you to see. I promise it's worth it."

Bing titled his head. "Is it safe? I mean, I trust you, but you didn't exactly have safe places to go when you lived in your cabin." He got slightly closer to the hunter, looking into his eyes just to see if he should trust him.

Angus nodded. "Yeah, it is safe. Close your eyes though, I want it to be a surprise," He begged the android, giving him puppy eyes on purpose. He just wanted to show Bing something cool.

Bing bit his lip before he nodded. "Alright, but if I get broken or anything, I'm taking your jacket and burning it," He warned the other. He closed his eyes, letting the other guide him through the forest. He really did trust Angus.

They soon came to a stop, and the sounds of footsteps going from behind to in front of him indicated Angus was probably standing ahead of him. "Alright, you can look."

Bing slowly opened his eyes and looked at the area, a hand covering his mouth in pure awe. "Did you.... Did you plan these flowers?"

Angus shook his head. "They grew here before I came along, but every year, I make sure they continue to grow here." He smiled at the fact he made his friend surprised. "Do you like it?"

Bing nodded and hugged his friend, looking at the area as he nuzzled the human. He hoped they would come back here often.

~*~

Bing slowly approached the patch of sunflowers and sat near the tree, looking around. He wondered if Angus was still alive, would he still like this area? Or would he moved onto a different place for them to hang out at?

Either way, Bing knew he would want them to hang out here. He loved this spot and it's beauty, even if Angus was no longer here....

Bing suddenly felt very alone and wrapped his arms around his legs as he curled up. This spot normally brought the android closure, and now it's making him feel alone. He wanted to leave, but a voice in his head made him stay.

The android looked around, thinking of a possible reason to stay here and enjoy the hang out alone. When he thought of none, he stood up. Perhaps he could see if the cabin still exists. He remembered when he first seen it.

~*~

Bing looked at the old, mostly worn out cabin. "This is where you lived before Jackie found you? Isn't this unsafe for humans?" He took a few steps towards the cabin, immediately backing away when he heard a loud creak.

"It isn't unsafe, I promise," Angus told the android, taking his hand. "I've lived there for three years, it's perfectly fine." He gently began to lead his android lover inside. "Just watch your step, okay?" He opened the door slowly and let Bing inside first.

Bing looked at Angus before he entered the cabin. He looked around and realized it was quite odd for a cabin.

There was animal pelt laid all over the floor, one of a bear and another of a deer. On top of the bear pelt was a chair made out of wood with animal furs placed onto to possibly make it more comfortable.

The walls held hand-crafted hunting tools, like spears and bows along with arrows. There was a also hunting knives, varityping in sizes, a hand-crafted axe, more than likely used to get wood.

Angus held a shelf that kept food hung beside the hunting tools, but strangely, it had no meat. It only held non-poisonous mushrooms, bugs, and a few vegetables.

There was a handcrafted bed with once again, animal fur to make it more cosy and warm for when winter comes. The bed also contained attempts of pillows using what looked like cotton stuffed in fur pelts.

"You lived like this," Bing questioned as he looked at the one-room cabin. "This.... Don't come back and live here, please. You shouldn't live back in this environment."

Angus looked at the android with a confused look but sure enough, he nodded. He wasn't going to if that's what Bing wanted.

~*~

Bing slowly approached the cabin. It was still old and unsafe looking, but it was worse than ever now. The door was wide open, banging against the wood when the wind blew by.

The android gulped. Maybe he shouldn't go inside to see if it's all still in there, but of course, curiosity got the better of him. He slowly headed up the stairs and entered the cabin.

Well.... It wasn’t that bad for being left to sit for almost 5 years. The shelf of food Angus once ate was hand one end, the fur on his bed and chair were all floor, and the chair was broken into pieces.

Bing frowned for the reasons only he would know. Angus seemed to love living here, and now it was in ruin. If his boyfriend saw this, he was certain he would be upset over it.

There was another reason he frowned however. This was the place Angus died. Oh he could still hear Angus’s cries in pain and pleas not to be forgotten as he hugged Henrik….

No. Now isn’t the time to think about that. What was done has been done and can’t be reversed, even if he didn’t like who was taken from him, even if he cried nights after the death, and even if he still secretly wished it was him who had died.

Bing had enough of this place; He shouldn’t have come here, now was the time to leave. As he went to leave, he heard something fall. He came to stop and turned around, looking for what fell.

His eyes stopped their search when he found the object in question. It was a piece of paper rolled around a pencil, making Bing tilt his head. He glanced around just in case before he walked over to the paper.

The android quickly unrolled the paper and read it. “It’s not your fault, Sunflower,” was written on it, and the hand writing…. It was very close Angus’s. Both of these things were enough to freak him out.

Just when Bing thought it couldn’t get worse, he heard something- or someone- exit the cabin very quickly, as if it were afraid to be caught. Bing glanced at the being as fast as he could, only catching sight of a person in dark orange hoodie and black jeans as well as black hunting boots- Angus’s clothes. He couldn’t see any features of the person sadly as he only got a back profile when they exited.

The android stood up immediately and headed outside, chasing after it. Unfortunately, as soon as he got out of the cabin, the person was gone, and Bing was once again alone.

[amintyworld]

For the prompts! “Where WERE you?! Are you… okay…? Goodness, you’re burning up!” With Anxceit?

Hot and Cold

A/N: Hey Anon! Sorry, this took a while, but I finally got some motivation to finish it, and I hope you enjoy it! BTW, I forgot to add in part of the prompt, and I’m sorry, but I still hope you enjoy it anyway! - Minty

Summary: After an argument breaks out between Janus and Virgil, Virgil quickly leaves out into the incoming snowstorm. 

TW: Hypothermia, mention of cheating, unconsciousness. (As always, tell me if I missed anything!)

-------------------------- 

Virgil was stupid.

There was no other explanation for the reason he was walking down 11th Avenue beneath the bright streetlamps, rubbing his arms and shivering like a drowned cat. Tears slipped down his cheeks, turning a bitter cold as they left wet droplets on the sidewalk. 

Virgil Ingram was an idiot, there was no doubt. Only an idiot would run out the door without a jacket. A cold gust of wind left a cold chill in Virgil’s bones. His teeth chattered slightly as he tried in vain to get warm. 

It all started with a simple disagreement, a simple argument over some dishes, and within a few minutes, it turned fiery. The couple shouted at each other for hours, yelled at each other. It was Virgil’s and Janus’s first-ever argument as a couple, and Virgil was more than a little scared. 

Fear did always get the better of him. Virgil guessed that’s why he ran. That’s why he ran away from the person he loved more than anyone else in the world because he was afraid with a few words it was all over. It had to be over, right?

Janus’s face - twisted into a pure rage, his yells loud and sharp. No one could love him after a blow-up like that. Virgil’s heart burned with heartbreak, and his nerves rocked his body. Though he felt like going back, his mind urged him forward. He didn’t know where he was going, all he knew was that he was too ashamed and anxious to return. 

Suddenly, another chill blew through his bones, making him shiver. His head pointed down, he noticed the wetness of the sidewalk in confusion. He looked up - snow. It was snowing and he was wearing nothing but a T-Shirt. 

Awesome.

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

Janus paced the living room, his cellphone in hand. He tried following his boyfriend when he booked it away from the house, only to quickly lose track of him and find his jacket on the ground on their doorstep - he hadn’t even noticed it when he chased after Virgil. 

The jacket he’d gotten for his boyfriend - hand-stitched, black with white sewn purple patches. Janus would never forget the look on Virgil’s face when he opened the present - that smile that made his heart melt. It was their one-year anniversary.

The jacket lay sprawled across the couch. Janus’s mind was worried for Virgil, making it spin like a top. He regretted every word, his anger dissipated all too quickly. It didn’t matter anymore, the argument, the anger, the back-and-forth - none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered to Janus was Virgil. He tried not to think about Virgil getting hurt, or kidnapped out in the cold and in the streets. 

Janus’s eyes checked his phone for the 15th time that evening. He’d called Roman in a panic after a few hours and Virgil not returning. Roman tried to calm him as he promised his friend to search around and make sure the emo was safe. Silence engulfed the small house. Janus huffed as he sat back down on the couch, his phone face up on the coffee table in front of him. His leg shook nervously as he waited for a sign, a signal… anything.

His eyes snapped toward a sound, the vibrating phone on the wooden table.

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

Virgil doesn’t remember what exactly happened. All he remembered was the numbing coldness seeping so deeply in his bones, making every fluid motion feel like knives digging into his skin. He remembered he was going to try to make it to the nearby bus stop for some kind of relief from the wind and snow. He didn’t know how much time had passed since he rushed into the night, but...

He remembered someone… calling his name?

Then… warmth. Comforting, warm warmth… Virgil’s mind began to grow tired as his body went limp and he heard a panicked voice mumble ‘Shit-’.

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

Roman rushed toward Janus’s house, holding Virgil in his arms - his body freezing cold. He didn’t know whether Virgil was dead or alive, the only thing that told him otherwise was the small heaving in his chest as he slept in his arms. The snow was heavily falling on his car, coating his window and roof in a thick layer of white within seconds when he found him.

Virgil was shaking, shivering, looking paler than normal as the snow coated his head and shoulders, turning his warm brown locks white. He got out of his car quickly, calling for him and running over as he began to slowly plummet toward the ground, Roman dashing quickly and managing to catch him in his arms. 

Roman rang the doorbell six times, and when Janus opened the door he rushed inside, trying to find the warmest area possible. “Where WERE you-?!” He saw Virgil and his voice dropped. “Is he… okay?”

He beelined for the small fireplace in the corner of the living room, scrambling to remember what Logan taught him to do in those first-aid classes, all he knew was that he needed to get warm and get warm now. He turned to Janus quickly. “You got matches?”

“Uh… I… yes…” Janus was looking toward Virgil with concern, not knowing what was wrong as Roman carefully set him down next to the fireplace. 

“Grab them, now!” Roman yelled, nervous as all heck.

Soon enough, Roman lit the fire, leaving Virgil unconscious on the floor. Janus took a deep breath to calm his nerves as Roman explained the situation. “He got hypothermia, I dunno what to do, he nearly collapsed in the snow-”

“What can I do to help?” Janus asked, and Roman tried to recall his training. 

“Just, uh… you need to get him warm! Warm drinks, blankets… oh! He needs to get out of those wet clothes.” Roman said, and Janus just nodded. 

“I’ll get him out of those clothes and in some blankets. You should make some tea.” 

Janus rolled up his sleeves and walked over toward the roaring fire, Virgil still cold and now wet from the heat, looking weak from the cold, and Janus couldn’t help but chastise himself - this was all his fault, he shouldn’t have yelled. He moved Virgil’s limp body closer to his own, pulling up the soggy t-shirt and throwing it to the side, moving to his jeans, then socks and shoes. He grabbed a soft blanket and held Virgil’s cold body close to his, wrapping the blanket around both of them. 

He was still breathing. Thank god for that.

Janus positioned Virgil against his chest as he ran his fingers through Virgil’s hair, feeling his heartbeat with his own. Virgil’s wet hair soaked Janus’s white shirt, and he reluctantly opened it up to get it dry, leaving Virgil asleep on his bare chest. He felt his face flush as Virgil sighed, leaning into his chest more, being cute again.

The more Janus thought about it, the more he realized that his boyfriend was naked to his undies sleeping against his chest, the closest they’ve ever gotten thus far physically. His boyfriend was almost-naked cuddled up against him, and his blush deepened. 

He’d never really seen him shirtless before, and it never occurred to him up until this point that this was… Virgil was shirtless. He tried to remind himself it was for his health, that he was freezing, but… for some reason, the blush never left his cheeks. 

Maybe it had to do with the fact that their chests were touching, or Virgil’s sleepy cute sigh, or that fact that they were cuddling next to a fire...

Roman walked over with three steaming mugs, more relaxed knowing everything was under control. “Alright, I made tea and hot chocolate for Virge, you know how he doesn’t like tea that much-” A grin spread across his cheeks as he looked to Janus’s blush. “Should I… leave you two alone for a bit? Wouldn’t want to be interrupting anything-”

“NO- I… you’re not… everything’s fine, I’m just trying to keep him warm-”

“I see. Well, I’ll be in the kitchen if you guys need anything, seems you two need some time alone-” Roman smirked, walking away with a steaming mug toward the kitchen once more, a knowing look on his face. If looks could kill, Roman would be dead right now with the way Janus stared daggers at him as he left. 

Janus sighed as he shifted to grab his cup of tea and began to sip, his fingers fumbling through Virgil’s hair, content, trying to relax from the tension the evening brought. The clock ticked by, and Janus just sipped his tea, trying to figure out what to say to him when he woke up. Eventually, Virgil stirred, his eyes slowly beginning to open, looking up and around him with confusion, and Janus’s hand wormed into his. “Hey.”

“Uh...hey,” Virgil said awkwardly, a smile on his face. “Uh… I…”

“I’m sorry. I never should have yelled, I never should have gotten so upset, you should be able to have your own privacy-”

“No, I’m sorry. I… I should have told you what was going on instead of just running away, I…” Virgil bit his lip. “I got fired.”

“Oh,” Janus said. “I’m so sorry, Vee.” He squeezed Virgil’s hand, making Virgil look down, a blush sneaking on his face. 

“Uh… please tell me this is some kind of weird nightmare-”

Janus laughed. “Sorry to say you’re not dreaming. You were freezing up, I needed to make sure your wet clothes were off so you could get warm again.” Their eyes met again. “You really scared me. Please, don’t run out on me like that again.”

“I thought you were done with me for good,” Virgil said softly, and Janus held Virgil’s cheek as he met this with a warm smile.

“You are the best, most amazing person in the world, Virgil,” Janus said softly, his fingers running through Virgil’s hair. “A little argument won’t change that, I promise.”

“Hm…” Virgil smiled softly, both hearts beating as one at that moment, wrapped in blankets by the fire, and soon enough they found their lips together, happy to just have each other.

[hermits-that-craft]

Marionette Roulette - Chapter 4

TW: Abuse, murder, violence, death, blood

ao3 link in the reblogs

Eret looks out over the prison, his eyes set in anger. He saw what Dream did to Tommy. He knows where the teen is. Dream may have the rest of the mourning server wrapped around his fingers, but Eret won’t let himself be puppeteered again. He won’t fall into line.

But he can’t just break in.

He was at the funeral. He was heralding that Tommy was alive during the funeral preparations. Surely, it would feel more complete. Surely, Dream would have brought his body back.

Eret doesn’t know why he didn’t tell everyone that he saw Dream take Tommy into the prison. It could be guilt, from not confronting the man. It could be fear. It could even be that he knows that the server will not allow him to move on from his betrayal - that the server believes his crown is gilded with blood.

But it isn’t that. It’s not as selfish as Eret lets herself believe it to be.

She’s scared for Sam and Puffy.

Sam, who built the prison. Sam, who lost his job after Dream returned. Sam, who is nothing but kind to her. Sam, who ignores Eret’s past crimes. Sam who visits her in her lonely castle. Sam who took Tubbo and Tommy’s deaths as though they were personal failings, as though Sam killed the pair. Puffy, who practically adopted Dream. Puffy, who let Dream stay with her. Puffy, who patched Dream up after fights. Puffy, who wouldn’t let Dream push her away like he had with his other friends. Puffy, who visited Eret over the winter. Puffy, who had Christmas dinner with Eret instead of her girlfriend. Puffy, who writes to Eret as often as possible. Puffy, who took Tommy and Tubbo’s deaths as though Dream had killed her children.

They don’t want to watch two of the kindest people they know die, be punished for what Dream did.

They don’t want their only parental figures to die.

Eret glares at the prison, not noticing someone approaching them. In fact, they didn’t notice the other person until there was a tap on their shoulder. Eret screeches indignantly, panic squeezing their lungs as they spin around.

“Sorry for scaring you.” Fundy says softly. “You’ve been staring at the prison for a while, I got worried.”

“It’s alright.” Eret sighs, smiling weakly at their friend. “I’m- I’m fine.”

Fundy gives her an incredulous look, but sighs, turning away from Eret. Eret doesn’t feel guilty for lying - she’s making sure his friend won’t snap, won’t fall off the deep end. She can’t allow Fundy to hurt because of Eret. The poor man is already upset because his ex fiance killed his uncle, she can’t let her friend be lead down the path of revenge.

“Where are you staying?” Eret asks quietly.

“Dry waters, with Niki.” Fundy responds. “We’re going back today, probably won’t be back for a while.”

“Oh.” Is all Eret can muster, not having the strength for what they know will come next.

“You could join us, if you’d like?” Fundy asks. It’s the same question, the same offer.

“I have a country to rule.” He responds, his eyes tired. Fundy doesn’t - can’t - notice, Eret’s eyes firmly hidden behind his sunglasses. “I can’t leave everyone without a leader, especially not since Dream hasn’t been punished.”

“You’re going to go up against Dream?” Fundy mumbles, shock on his face.

“Everything’s gotten out of hand. He killed Tubbo!” Eret snaps, she doesn’t understand why Fundy doesn’t see this.

“Eret, promise me one thing. Just one.” Fundy says, taking Eret’s hands. “Don’t make me come back to the SMP for your funeral.”

----

Tuboo walks alongside Ghostbur and Glatt, taking in the land. He remembers everything - all the suffering, all the pain - but allows the two elder ghosts to tell him the lore of the land. And the laws that they made. No one follows them, Tuboo notes, but he can’t find himself caring all to much about it.

What he does care about, is Eret. The king stands, staring at the prison, for hours. Ghostbur and Glatt don’t explain, and when Ghostbur begins to melt without the presence of water the two elder ghosts book it for the Aether.

Tuboo floats towards Eret, ready to talk to the king. They would be the first living person to know that Tuboo is real, the first living person to see him. Tuboo wanted it to be his father, but he isn’t certain that his father will want to see him.

“Are you okay, Eret?” Tuboo’s voice echoes slightly, taking on an airy quality.

“Tubbo?” Eret spins around, tears in his eyes. “Oh, Tubbo. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t do this.” Tuboo says, though he knows none of this would have happened if Eret didn’t betray them. Tommy and he wouldn’t have lost their first lives. But Eret didn’t want their deaths. Eret was - is - the only adult to know what Wilbur and Techno were like to Tommy. Eret didn’t want Tommy and him to die. He wanted to protect them.

“If I hadn’t of-”

“Dream would have done this anyway.” Tuboo shrugs. “Death is not the end of the road. Just the turn off that will take you to your next destination.”

“Then why are you back here?” Eret doesn’t sound judgemental, just confused.

“Because I failed. I failed to protect Tommy.”

“You saved his life.”

“Dream executed me. Why are you staring at the prison?” Tuboo asks, the grass beneath his feat wilting. Eret looks down nervously, as though he doesn’t want to admit to something.

“I saw Dream take Tommy into the prison.” Eret blurts out, her voice wavering. “I tried to tell the others, but no one would listen to me. I tried Tubbo, I really did! No one trusts me anymore, this is all my fault if I hadn’t of-”

“Eret, shut up.” Tuboo says softly. “You didn’t throw the axe. You didn’t send us off. You tried. Now, let me help you get my best friend out of prison.”

Eret smiles, offering his hand to Tuboo. Tuboo considers it for a moment, before taking the hand. Tuboo’s always liked the king, and the good memories that he pushes away outweigh the anger. The betrayal. Tuboo is glad that the king is on his side, and the two walk towards the castle, hand in hand, as the moon rises over the horizon.

----

Phil sits in Techno’s house, a lukewarm cup of green tea resting in his hands. Snow falls onto the ground softly, and Techno’s soft snores hit his ears. He promised his son that he would sleep, but can he sleep? Phil had heard what Ranboo had said to the other members of the smp. Techno and he pretended not to hear, but they did. Techno refuses to let Ranboo sleep in his own house now, worried that the teen will be hunted for what he said.

Phil doesn’t think people will hunt Ranboo. There are now only two children on the Dream SMP, and Phil doesn’t think that anyone will kill them. Not after the joint funeral for the other two. Not after everyone saw the too small caskets get lowered into the ground.

“I should check in on Eret.” Phil mumbles to himself, his communicator lying on the table besides him. The king seemed hysterical from Tubbo and Tommy’s deaths. They insisted Tommy was alive - quite possibly due to the fact that a body has yet to be discovered - and wept every time that someone told them that he wasn’t. Eret is looking after his grandson, even if the fox hybrid seemingly doesn’t care for their family. Phil won’t let Eret’s hysterics harm his grandson.

Phil sends a message to the king, asking if they are alright. No response is given back, though perhaps that is a good thing.

It’s two am, and Phil’s tea is ice cold. Phil tips it down the sink, mourning the loss of the tea that he didn’t even drink.

Did Phil spend enough time with Tommy? Did Tommy die thinking he was unloved, unwanted by his family? Did Phil, in his attempts to help Techno control his voices and help Wilbur learn to fly, push away his youngest? What could Phil have done differently, in order to make the teen less reckless? Phil blew up New L’Manburg to teach him a lesson on corruption and recklessness, why would Tommy continue to run into danger?

Phil drops his cup, tears blurring his vision. He doesn’t understand, doesn’t understand where he went wrong. Sure, he spent more time with his eldest two, but Tommy always was so fucking independent - refusing his help when offered, learning to read before being taught how, even toddling around their home without help.

Cuts dig into Phil’s knees. He doesn’t know when he fell onto the ground, he doesn’t remember dropping his cup. His knees bleed, but is it enough? Is the blood that flows from the enough to staunch the wound that Tommy and Tubbo’s deaths opened?

Is Phil hurting enough?

Phil killed one of his sons. Pushed the other away, even before grief had overtaken him. Ghostbur doesn’t visit anymore, and Tommy and Tubbo’s ghosts haven’t been seen. Techno funnels his grief into anger and Ranboo blames him - blames everyone - for his friends deaths.

Phil stands up, leaning against the wall. He can’t stay here, his wings itch against his skin. He needs to get into the air. He needs to leave, leave the warm home that he doesn’t belong in. He craves the comfort of war and blood and death falling from his hands, gifted to innocent civilians and soldiers who stand in his path.

The cold comfort of violence beckons him, and Phil flees the sanctuary his only living son built. The moon lights the sky above him, and Phil flies over open fields, not willing to touch the villagers that Techno and Ranboo spent months trading with.

He finds a village, a good seven hundred blocks away from Techno’s home. Phil flies in front of the moon, his black wings illuminated from behind. The angel of death. A euphemism that Phil more than once preened himself on. A mortal, an emperor of a hard to reach land in a far off world, having epithets and euphemisms as though he were some underworld god the mortals dared not speak of, in fear of incurring his wrath.

Only the moon bares witness to his slaughter.

Blood stains the grass as animals and people die without a chance to struggle. Blood pools on the floor and coats walls. Phil is no psychopomp, but he serves the same purpose, ferrying the dead to the underworld.

Phil washes the blood off in a nearby river before he flies back to Techno’s base, hopelessness making him moonsick.

----

Tommy curls up in his cell, his ears pressed flat against his head. His tail wraps around his waist, trying to help him warm up. He’s still chained to the wall, though he isn’t bleeding anymore. A plate of food sits on a chest nearby, and Tommy’s new instincts scream at him to take it. That he needs to eat so that he can continue to grow. To live.

Tommy doesn’t want to do either of those things, so he doesn’t touch the food.

Tommy knows Dream is watching. He knows that Dream will come in, will force feed him until Tommy either passes out or throws up. He knows, because Dream is always watching. Because he can feel eyes watching him. Tommy knows, knows too much. He’s scared, he doesn’t want to have Dream force food and potions down his throat.

But he wants to be held again.

Dream is pack. Dream isn’t family. Dream is safe. Dream hurts him. Tommy doesn’t know the truth. Sure - Techno and Phil told him that what Dream had done to him in exile was wrong, was abuse, but they also teamed up with Dream to destroy his only home. Does that make his family evil, or Dream good? Is Tommy the problem, or is Tommy the victim?

Tommy knows one thing for certain about Dream. The man is the only person who visits him. He comforts him after Tommy gets punished for his mistakes, he made sure Tommy is feeling alright after his tail grew in. He gives Tommy apples and a caldron to wash them in. He gives Tommy shiny things to hide around his cell - his den .

Dream wants to help him. Dream wants to hurt him. Tommy doesn’t know, doesn’t care. Maybe if he eats Dream will come. Dream will come if he doesn’t, but maybe he will if Tommy does eat. Maybe.

He won’t eat, even if Dream promised to come. Dream is pack, and Tommy wants to see him again.

He lies on his bed, wishing for his abuser to come back and hurt him again, if only so that he can feel again. He wishes to be hurt or helped. Saved or slaughtered. Killed or kept. Tommy buries his face into the pillow and weeps for a lost friend. For the only brother who didn’t hurt him, the one that wasn’t even blood family.

God, he’s such a fuck up.

[bisexualcrowley]

Fairytale of New York

Pairing: Jack Kline x Reader (Gender non-specified)

Summary: Jack gives you something you’ve always dreamt of while walking through a park on Christmas eve

Content/warnings: Fluff, songfic, little bit of angst, censored use of the F slur in song lyrics, can be read as romantic or platonic

Word count: 2, 581

A/N: I absolutely recommend you listen to the song while reading, I know it’s not really everyone’s taste but I feel that it adds to the mental image, plus there's a bunch of instrumental bits that I think are worth being included :) // Originally wrote this as a Jack fic, but felt that Jack fit better

The snow fell in a light drifting throughout the city, glistening in the glow of the streetlights and setting the scene for what in most movies would be seen as the perfect Christmas eve. It was quiet, peaceful, the soft noises of traffic heard behind the sound of slow Christmas music playing soothingly from a shop across the street.

Since becoming a hunter, you hadn’t really been much for the holidays, especially religious ones, but tonight as you walked side by side with Jack through the little park, boots crunching in the fallen powder with snowflakes dusting your hair as you made your way to a nearby pizza joint to meet Sam Dean and Cas, it felt different, the way Christmas should feel.

Tonight it didn’t matter that the apocalypse was approaching, the thought was shoved to the back of your head along with everything else that had gone wrong. Tonight was just snow, food, gifts, and family, and you found yourself smiling as you made your way along the path.

You were so caught up in your thoughts, or lack of them, that it took you a moment to realize you had been walking by yourself for a few seconds, and quickly doubled back to where the nephilim was standing.

You were concerned at first, his still figure bringing all sorts of unpleasant thoughts to mind, but your worries quickly evaporated when you drew closer to your friend. A peaceful smile graced his features, eyes closed and face tilted upwards, snowflakes hitting his skin and melting, the fair few settling softly on his eyelashes.

“...Jack?” You called quietly, hesitating at the idea of disturbing him but knowing he wouldn’t want to be late to dinner with the Winchesters.

Luckily, the nephilim’s peaceful expression cracked into a toothy grin as he turned his head to face you, a light dusting of snow falling from his hair onto his nose and making you giggle.

“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it Y/n. I never took the time to experience a snowfall properly before now, and it’s just... Well it’s just incredible. God did a good job with this one” He murmured happily, his gaze returning to the sky, this time followed by your own.

It had been years since you sat back and allowed yourself to enjoy a moment like this, year after year of hunting taking priority over and over again, and you were glad that there was time for it tonight. Jack was right, the sight truly was beautiful, the crystals of ice glistening as they blew through the sky and settled on every surface in sight.

You had just opened your mouth to respond when a familiar melody filled the air, and you paused in your thoughts. Fairytale of New York, The Pogues. You hadn’t heard this one in years, though you never forgot it, your teenage daydreams always somewhere in the back of your mind.

Apparently Jack had found your silence alarming and turned his attention back to you, finding you lost in thought, a troubled expression having replaced your smile from before.

“You look upset, Y/n, are you alright?” Your friend questioned, a concerned expression gracing his usually happy features, and his worry drawing a dry chuckle from your lips.

“It’s nothing Jack, lets just keep going, Sam and Dean are probably already at the pizza place” You replied in a dreary voice, sighing as the song progressed from purely instrumental to include vocals, the piano echoing sweetly in the darkened street and Shane Macgowan’s somewhat rough voice flooding your ears.

It was Christmas Eve babe

In the drunk tank

An old man said to me, won't see another one 

Turning away from Jack, you moved to cross away from the park, but found yourself held back by the angel’s hand landing firmly on your shoulder, forcing your gaze back in his direction.

“Honestly, it’s stupid, lets just keep going please” Your voice came out tight and clipped and the sound made you wince, hoping Jack didn’t think of it as rude. Luckily, in that sense, your friend didn’t seem to be offended, but unluckily it made him push the subject further.

And then he sang a song

The Rare Old Mountain Dew

“You've never been good at lying to me, Y/n, it’s clear that this isn’t stupid. Please, talk to me.” 

You shot him a defeated smile, the ache in your heart showing clearly in your eyes as you shoved your hands in your pockets, shifting your weight from one leg to the other.

I turned my face away

And dreamed about you 

“I dunno, Jack, It’s just this song.” You mumbled, gaze falling to the ground in hopes of avoiding the nephilim’s concerned stare.

“Ah, I understand. Cas explained this to me, how humans can connect bad memories to songs,” He nodded, his hand returning to your shoulder in a comforting gesture.

Got on a lucky one

Came in eighteen to one 

“No, it’s not that. It’s just... Ever since I was a kid I’ve always dreamt of dancing with someone to Fairytale of New York. I haven’t heard it in years, hunting kind of took over my life, but hearing it again makes me realize, as small as it is, I want it, so so badly. Being pulled close and spun around as the snow falls around me on Christmas eve, it’s so stupid but knowing the world is gonna end and I’ve never had the chance to experience it hurts like hell, Jack, and I know as a hunter I should have higher priorities, but honestly it’s all I fucking want, the only thing I wanted to do before I die and now I’m not gonna get the chance.”

I've got a feeling

This year's for me and you 

You didn’t plan to ramble on, spill such a close desire to your friend but as soon as you started speaking the dam broke, all your feelings slipping out at once. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the tears running down your cheeks, not until a gentle hand tilted your chin up, your eyes locking on Jack’s caring ones as he brushed them away.

“That’s not stupid, Y/n... Actually, I think it’s quite beautiful. There’s so much hate and greed in this world, but all you ask for is one moment in time...”

Jack’s voice was quiet but sincere as he spoke,  and though you couldn’t work up the strength to thank him, you appreciated what he had said.

So happy Christmas

I love you baby 

“It doesn’t matter, we can’t all get what we want, right?” You smiled tightly, quickly clearing your throat and turning to head towards the road again, and once more you were stopped by a strong hand pulling you back.

"Jack please, lets go, I don’t wanna talk about this anymore, ok? It’s upsetting and it’s getting cold, let’s just go meet the guys” You huffed, now slightly annoyed at the nephilim’s stubbornness, but the feeling melting almost immediately into confusion as your friend pulled your shorter frame against his own, leading one of your hands to his waist and capturing your other in his.

I can see a better time

When all our dreams come true 

“Dance with me, Y/n.” He whispered, smiling shyly at the expression on your face.

“..what?” You managed to ask, somewhat in shock at the quick movements Jack had made to settle you in such a position.

“Look, I know this probably isn’t exactly what you were hoping for, It’s barely snowing, we’re probably going to get yelled at by Dean and well, it’s me, but if the world really does end, I don’t want you to go out having not experienced the thing you’ve dreamt of all your life. I understand if you don’t want to waste the moment with me, but if you do I’d be more than happy to share it with you”

Jack chuckled at the end of his sentence, but didn’t go on, waiting for an answer as the music picked up, moving from piano to accordion.

You had to fight back tears as your friend spoke. It was hard to believe, but it was finally happening, you were finally going to get your dance, and you just beamed up at the angel, emotions overflowing with each second that passed, and as the third verse began, you nodded, Jack responding by matching your smile and settling his free hand on your waist.

They've got cars big as bars

They've got rivers of gold

But the wind goes right through you

It's no place for the old

You hadn’t danced to the song since you were a kid, twirling around in an oversized dressing gown with a broom in Bobby’s basement, and you were almost certain Jack had never even heard of it before now, but somehow the both of you knew exactly what to do, how to move. Two steps and a spin, swinging away from the angel only to be pulled back in, each switch of your hands, it was all exactly how you had always pictured it.

When you first took my hand

On a cold Christmas Eve

You promised me

Broadway was waiting for me

1 2 3 4 5 6, 1 2 3 4 5 6. You counted silently along with the patterns played, a squeal turning into a joyous laugh as a particularly passionate spin from Jack led the both of you sliding along a patch of ice, boots leaving trails in the freshly fallen snow.

You were handsome

You were pretty

Queen of New York City

When the band finished playing

They howled out for more

You hadn’t expected Jack to enjoy himself as much as he appeared to be. You figured, hey, he’s a nephilim, I’ve helped him out, he probably feels obligated to do this, right? To see that you were wrong, the elation on his face made the already indescribable moment all the better

Sinatra was swinging

All the drunks they were singing

We kissed on a corner

Then danced through the night

The rare passerby walking through the park would smile, pause for a moment to watch the two of you spin happily across the frozen ground before continuing on their way, each one chuckling to themselves over whatever joke they came up with about once upon a time being young enough to move like that

The boys of the NYPD choir

Were singing Galway Bay

And the bells were ringing out

For Christmas day

As the two of you danced, you couldn’t help but think how beautiful this scene would be in a movie, all done up in fancy clothes, cameras following each sweeping movement you made

You're a bum

You're a punk

You're an old slut on junk

Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed

Another step. Another swing.

You scumbag, you maggot

You cheap lousy f*ggot

Happy Christmas your arse

I pray God it's our last

Jack’s hands flew to your hips, picking you up as if weighed nothing as the chorus peaked once again, spinning you in the air and making you feel like you were flying.

The boys of the NYPD choir

Still singing Galway Bay

The moment your shoes touched the ground Jack bent you down in a dip, flashing you a goofy smile at the noise you let out

And the bells are ringing out

For Christmas day

Jack smiled, and you beamed up at him

I could have been someone

Well so could anyone

You took my dreams from me

When I first found you

The music slowed slightly, and Jack traded your previous quick footsteps for a simple back and forth box step, the softening of your movements giving him a proper look at you, with your hair mussed and face rosy from the cold. Your smile stood out the most to the angel though, the unfiltered joy crinkling your eyes and releasing whatever tension you were holding before

I kept them with me babe

I put them with my own

Can't make it all alone

I've built my dreams around you

The boys of the NYPD choir

Still singing Galway Bay

And the bells are ringing out

For Christmas day 

As the instrumental section came to an end, the wall inside you that you hadn’t even realized was there finally broke down, and you followed in suit. Your arms flew around the nephilim’s neck and you clung to him as if letting go would kill you, and you sobbed. The sudden burst frightened Jack, who quickly pulled away enough to meet your eyes, but was surprised to find that you weren’t upset, but were crying tears of happiness.

“Y/n are you alright?” He whispered, tightening his hold around you as you pulled him along, your complicated waltz now replaced by the simple motions of a slow dance, weight shifting from one side to another as the song neared it’s end

You didn’t reply at first, choosing instead to smile up at Jack with teary eyes and nod rapidly before managing to choke out the words “Thank you, Jack”. 

As the final few notes finally faltered off, you pulled away from the tight embrace, looking earnestly up at your friend, who wore a warm smile as well

“Really, Jack, Thank you. So, so much, that was incredible, I can’t even-” Your voice cracked, cut off, and unable to vocalize anything more you reached out and took his hand between your own, squeezing tightly.

Luckily Jack understood what you were trying to say. He knew he couldn’t ever truly understand the level of happiness the action had brought you, but he knew he was gonna cherish the moment for the rest of his life. It was the most fun he had had in as long as he could remember, but that wasn’t why he knew it would stick with with. There was something special about sharing such a moment with someone he loved so dearly, being able to give you that happiness that made life worth living, gave the strength to keep fighting whatever the hell would be thrown at them next.

You and Jack would have been happy to stay there forever, hands clasped together and snow dusting your hair, but as always, the reminder that all good things must come to an end was brought to you by whichever shop was playing music turning their volume way up, the blasting of trumpets from rockin’ around the Christmas tree hitting you like a truck and thoroughly ruining the peaceful setting.

Your reactions were like a scene out of a movie, the simultaneous jump, staring at each other in shock and finally breaking down in peals of laughter seconds later.

“I think that means it’s time to go” you snickered, the nephilim chuckling in response, and at that the two of you took off again, making your way towards the pizza place.

Thank you, you repeated silently. Thank you

-

Tags, let me know if you want to be added <3 @cursedbobs​ @frog-tiddies​  @imagine-whatever

[staruplatinum]

Family Fun

Long overdue commission for @bubbleu​ ! Hope you enjoyed it love. !

Warnings: Fluff 

Word count: 3,006 words

Halloween was approaching, your favourite time of the year! Between the trick or treating, chilly weather, fall activities and scary movies, there was one thing you and your family loved most - costume parties! 

It started when you first met Tiziano and Squalo. Both men had great taste in fashion - You could see from that from the get go. Tiziano especially was adorned in all sorts of outfits from various companies. Gucci, Prada, Versace... He had it all. Squalo didn’t dress as fancy, but it was still enough to catch your eye. Years passed, and before you knew it the three of you now had two beautiful children - a boy and a girl - who also happened to take after their father’s extravagant fashion sense. 

It was a chilly fall morning, the leaves had fallen down and Halloween was only a week away.  Tiziano was planning to have a costume party later this evening. Various People from Passione would be in attendance, along with some of your children’s friends as well. Tiziano was famous for hosting parties - he always went all out no matter the occasion. At your children’s birthdays he’d hire a whole circus to perform, not to mention the streamers and decorations were extensive! At christmas He’d get the biggest tree, covered in tinsel and ornaments from head to toe, plus the amount of lights around the house was enough to make it look brighter than the sun. Halloween was no different - in fact, Tiziano enjoyed it most! 

There was lots that could be said about the holiday and what he enjoyed most about it, but by far it was dressing up. Before meeting you - and even long before he had dated Squalo, Tiziano always had the best costumes in all of Passione. One year he went as a dead model and the way he applied the makeup and special effects + blood nearly blew everyone away. 

Both you and Tiziano were working on putting up the orange and black streamers, which were technically the finishing touches, save for some snacks that still had yet to be put out. Once they were up and the balloons were attached, Tiziano got down to admire his work. You had both decided to go for a ‘vintage’ Halloween theme - if the orange and black was any indication. Tiziano placed his hands on his hips, sighing in relief. Besides the food situation - they were pretty much ready. “I think the decorations look good, wouldn’t you agree bella?” He asked, gesturing to his daughter and smiling. She was looking up at the ceiling in awe, clearly impressed by the work her parents had achieved. The streamers looked beautiful, along with the trick-or-treat bags and every other decoration in the house. You could see by the look on her face that this was pure excitement, and it made your heart swell with joy. “Yes daddy!” she chimed back, giving his long leg a tight hug. You got down from the chair as well, helping Squalo and your son tidy up the tape and plastic packaging that was left over. This was probably the only thing that you hated about parties - was the cleanup. Squalo took the garbage into his fist and brought it over to the kitchen, tossing it in the bin. Suddenly, he tensed up when he heard what the rest of his family was talking about… “Did you all figure out what you wanted to be?” You smiled, rubbing your children’s heads. “I want to be spider-man!” your son chimed, jumping excitedly. “I want to be a princess!” Your daughter added. Both started to scream with joy and excitement. 

Shit.

They were really serious about this? Squalo should have known after being married to Tizano for all these years that costumes and parties were no joke to Tiziano. Squalo knew that they loved costumes and he should have been more prepared, but alas… he procrastinated once again. That, and he was far too busy and tired with work as of late. Now what were they going to do? He did not want to be a disappointment to Tizano or you, let alone his children.

Both Tiziano and you laughed at your child’s excitement, before looking over to squalo who had a clear look of surprise and discomfort on his face. Crossing your arms, you asked him.

“And you? What are you dressing up as?”

The smirk on your face was enough to show that you already knew the answer, but you played along, in any case. “Did you get the costumes we had asked you for?”

“Yeah - about that… I didn’t get a chance to um….. Get the costumes.” Squalo admitted.A look of defeat and disappointment crossed his face as he brushed his hair away. Fuck, looking down at his daughters big eyes was enough to make him tear up. He should have been more prepared, he knew that. You groaned in annoyance - once again - Squalo left it to the last minute, and here you guys were, the day of halloween - trying to figure out your costumes. “Well, what are we going to do now?” You asked, hugging your son as he looked up at you - then over to Squalo- , confused. 

Tiziano fixed Squalo with a look of mild disappointment. He was let down, certainly, but you could tell that there was no anger or deep resentment in his gaze. You both expected this of course, Squalo was infamous for procrastinating. “...Sorry,” Squalo said, twirling a lock of his bright orange hair around one of his fingers. He felt disappointed with himself, but he knew that Tiziano wouldn’t be that upset with him. “I’m not mad, honey,” Tiziano said, sitting down on a chair draped with a large sheet of orange fabric. “...Just disappointed.” You could tell that phrase made Squalo hurt as he let out a shaky sigh. A moment passed, and as Squalo stood there looking sheepish, your two children crowded around his legs, looking up at him with a pleading look in his eyes. The insufferable silence was broken only by the creaks of the house. Then suddenly, a loud sound of wood scraping on tile as Tiziano pushed his chair aside and stood up. “No use moping around, sitting around and being gloomy isn’t going to accomplish anything.” Tiziano placed one of his perfectly-manicured hands on his daughter’s shoulder. “You’re going to get to pick out your own costume this year, isn’t that exciting?” “You too,” he says, placing a hand on his son’s head, ruffling up his hair in the process. “You can be Spiderman, Superman, Aquaman… Whoever you want.” 

The children screamed with excitement - they were just happy that their party wasn’t ruined. There was still time to rush to the store, even if halloween was a week away. Surely they’d be able to find a costume at the store, even if it wasn’t something they truly wanted! “Can I be Aquaman?” Squalo says, retrieving the car keys from a basket on the kitchen counter. “Yes honey, you can be Aquaman,” Tiziano says, giving his husband a warm look and a knowing smile. You smile softly as you watch them converse, happy that Tizano was being so supportive and calm about the situation at hand. You knew how much he loved parties, and he hated having anything get out of hand or go wrong. He had a reputation to withhold, afterall.  The children, now bubbling with excitement, follow along behind you as you all get ready to go out. You help your son tie his shoes - he’s always had trouble with that. Tiziano makes sure your daughter’s hair is neat and in order too. He puts it in two curly pig-tails before kissing her forehead. Once everything’s ready, the five of you pile into the family car together - Squalo driving, you sitting in the passenger seat, Tiziano sitting in the back with your two children. The ride wasn’t too long, but Tiziano always liked doing that, sitting in the back with your kids on trips like these. He always likes to act aloof and distant from your children, not getting as involved in their affairs as you or Squalo, but it’s in the little moments like this where you see that he loves them just as much as the two of you do. He wasn’t picking favourites of course, but having a daughter really made him happy, especially because she was into fashion and clothes as much as he was! It takes you a little longer than expected to get to the pop-up halloween store in your town - Squalo takes a wrong turn and gets lost.He wasn’t the greatest navigator, but he was a safer driver than Tizano and you were.  Fortunately, both your kids don’t seem to mind it too much, they were just happy to play games in the back seat with their father as you guided Squalo back on the right path to the Halloween store. 

Once the five of you arrived at the store, you were a little disappointed by the lack of costumes around. The shelves were nearly bare, except for a few of the cheaper, less-popular costumes. It made sense, considering the fact that halloween was next week - but still. You hoped for something more! “Let’s split up with the kids, it should be faster that way,” Squalo said, holding his son’s hand and walking past the registers and into the shelves of costumes.

The family was set on what they wanted and they split up, looking around the aisles for what they wanted. On your own now, you decided to browse around. There wasn’t much to choose from in your size, so you had to improvise. There were some full costumes left, but none of them really spoke to you - a cat, a witch, an angel… It all seemed so cliche. You decided to look in the section devoted to costume parts and smaller costumes on their own, maybe you could find something that better suited you there. Browsing around, you found a few simple costumes, discarded on a middle shelf next to a witch’s broom prop. A bumble-bee, perhaps? It was simple and cute, and the store sold a small kit with wings, antennas and leg warmers. They also had a ladybug set, but  something about them both threw you off. Knowing Tiziano, these would be a little too basic for his liking. You set them back on the shelf, and continue to look around, hoping to find something more to his tastes and yours.

Browsing around some more, you found an eye-patch and a tastefully tattered blouse with a gold-colored plastic necklace. Then it hit you - you could be a pirate! Squalo mentioned how he wanted to be Aquaman, and while this didn’t entirely go with his costume - it was close enough to the theming of his costume. Not to mention you had a long black skirt at home that could be paired up with one of Tiziano’s belt around your waist, for extra detail.  Once you were sure that’s what you wanted, you headed towards the back of the store where you could clearly see your husbands.

Tizano was a tall man with distinctive honey-blonde hair, recognizable even from a distance. Finding him was not a difficult task. He was with your daughter, who managed to find a Cinderella dress. Lucky her! It seemed that the other more popular princess costumes were already sold out, but she had managed to find just this one, tucked out of place behind an adult-sized Snow White costume. Tiziano smiled, making sure that she was absolutely certain she wanted this. Even if it wasn’t her first choice, he’d find a way to make it special. Your daughter seemed content with it though, and Tiziano now had to figure out what he wanted to dress up as. Seeing that his daughter was Cinderella, and you were dressed as a pirate, He wanted to match one of you at least. 

He browsed around, finding a light blue cloak and a fairy wand on one of the shelves next to him. He could be the fairy godmother! He didn’t have everything he needed, but he could improvise with what he had at home. Tiziano was always good at that - improvising. Now that the three of you were settled on your costumes you hurried around the store since it was closing soon. You were almost sure that they had disappeared into the myriad dark shelves of the store when finally you heard small laughter from your son.

There were no more Aquaman costumes that were adult sized. Squalo could only find one in a child’s size, which he ended up giving to your son. He deserved it after all, since Squalo screwed up on the costumes in the first place. You looked around for Squalo, not seeing him near your son, until you got closer and looked where your son was pointing and laughing. Squalo had found his costume - a cartoonish, cheesy-looking shark costume. It was oversized, and baggy - but it would have to do. Besides, it went with the whole ‘aquatic’ theme that the three of you seemed to be going for anyways. Noticing a plastic tiara on one of the shelves, you scooped it up, deciding to add it to your costume. A crown to go with your pirate costume, making you into a sort of pirate princess - something to match with the themes both of your husbands seemed to be going with for their costumes. It looked cheap, but… Then again, what did you expect from halloween costumes? It didn’t go perfectly, but you felt the sentiment behind your choice in costume would mean a lot. “Oh, what are you planning on doing with that?” Squalo said, leaning over your shoulder. You jumped a little, not recognizing him in his ridiculous shark costume. “Oh, it’s a surprise,” you said, giving him a wide grin. You had to keep yourself from laughing at the sheer absurdity of his costume.

“So it’s settled then.” Tiziano smiled, placing a kiss on Squalo’s forehead. “Let’s pay for these and head home, yeah? We have a party starting soon.” 

The children were excited, fidgeting with their costumes in their little hands, chattering to themselves about how cool or cute their costumes were, respectively. You and your two husbands walked past the near-empty isles, towards the registers at the front of the store.

Your daughter looked up at Tiziano, eyes wide. “Papa, can I wear it now?”. Tiziano patted her on the shoulder, giving her a patient smile. “Not now, sweetie. Once we get home. Eventually, you reached the front of the store, and walked to the register - no one else was around, which was to be expected, really. Squalo spent some time fumbling through his pockets, looking for his wallet before Tiziano eventually told him that he’d pay for the costumes this time, and for him to be more careful with his belongings next time. “By the way, you’re all a family, right?” said the clerk behind the register, finishing putting your costumes in bags. “We have a special promotion going on right now - free costume family photos with every purchase.” “Would you like one?” “I’d rather not, we have a party we need to get to-” Tiziano was quickly drowned out by you, Squalo, and your two kids. “Yes!” With a tired smile on his face, Tiziano helped carry your bags of costumes to the back of the store, to the changing rooms, where you all changed into your costumes… With the except of Squalo, who hadn’t taken his costume off. All of you assembled outside of the changing rooms when you were done, in your costumes. Squalo in his baggy shark costume, Tiziano in his improvised fairy godmother costume, your son in his aquaman costume, and your daughter in her Cinderella costume. And finally, you, in your “pirate princess costume”. You all shuffled over to the cheesy pumpkin-patch backdrop next to the changing rooms, and got into the most photogenic poses you could manage. You could tell that Tiziano wasn’t exactly thrilled with the low-budget production, but Squalo and the two kids seemed to be thrilled with the prospect of a free family photo for Squalo’s photo album. The store worker was already there waiting for you all, with a disposable camera and a roll of film. They waved you over to the backdrop, posing you so the dim store lighting caught you all and so that nobody would fade into the background. Finally, all of you were ready. “Everyone ready? On the count of three… One… Two… Three…” “Cheese!” you all said, striking a pose. Yes, everyone, even Tiziano.

There was a brief flash for the camera, and the photograph printed. After making sure the photo wasn’t blurry and no one blinked, the employee set the picture down on one of the nearby shelves, and held the camera up again, to take a second photo. “And a silly one, too!” And again, everyone posed too, even Tiziano, who seemed to have finally warmed up to the prospect of low-budget costume photos. At the end of the day, the fact that he was with his family is what mattered most. After checking over your pictures with the employee and tucking them safely into your purse, you all de-costumed and re-packed your costumes into the bags. Once everything was in order, you said your goodbyes to the store worker, who wished you all a happy Halloween. In the parking lot, Tiziano gently took the keys out of Squalo’s hands, and got into the driver’s seat himself, jingling the keys at his husband. “I’ll drive this time, honey. We’ve got a party we need to get to, and I don’t think we should be taking the scenic route this time.” You all laughed, together. You couldn’t be more grateful, having a wonderful family like this.You all piled into the car, and after making sure everyone was buckled in, began the drive home.

[shhhhyoursister]

okay im gonna post this right before i go to bed because i havent posted new stuff in a while and its like AHH but okay so here is the first of the unfinshied/unedited things ive written, and the first of the two lets say..... niche aus i have.....very niche and very exposing of how much of a loser i am!! 

i mentioned this one a few times and before everything got bad in the world i had so many ideas but here yall go here is my beloved davenzi pokemon au i hope all you other losers enjoy

(also please excuse all the brackets i write things out of order but always need to make notes of what happens in between)

Matteo pushed the door open, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and let out a loud yawn as he stretched an arm over his head. He raised the glass of Pinap juice to his mouth and took a sip, smiling around the rim as he looked out at the large meadow behind his house.

The berry trees were growing tall around the perimeter of the fence, patches of grass at various lengths sprouting out of the ground. The large pond off to the side had its own waterfall, a feature his mother was extremely proud of, and he could admit that it added a little something special to the space

It wasn’t much, but they  did what they could with what they had. It was enough for the Pokémon they cared for, at least. 

At that thought, he felt something tugging at his pants, and he glanced down and smiled at the Vulpix at his feet. Its teeth were caught in the fabric but he reached down to pat it on the head anyway, knowing that was just its way of greeting him. It let go and stood next to him, like it was expecting something.

“What do you want?” he asked, poking it lightly in the side with his foot, and laughed when it rolled onto its back and latched onto it with its paw, and tried to secure its hold with the leg that was missing one. Matteo got it off easy and it sprung back up, ready to play.

He rolled his eyes, and walked further out into the meadow, the Vulpix trotting along happily beside him. There were a few Pokémon that he needed to check on before breakfast for himself or the rest of the Pokémon roaming around the property, and he wanted to get it done fast because the Tauros with the bandage over its eye was snorting at him from over in its usual corner. He quickened his pace.

He was looking for the Luvdisc that his mother had found a few days before, alone and hungry in shallow water, and his eyes scanned over the mostly clear water, trying to catch any sign of the pink water-type swimming around. He saw it just as it darted around a Buizel and behind a rock, seeming to be in much better shape than the day before. He was about to turn and head to the small shed in the back where they kept some of the Pokémon in more serious condition, but he looked up when he heard the door slide open, and his mom call his name.

“Matteo, Jonas is here to say bye!” She yelled out, and he turned and started making his way back.

“I didn’t get to look at the Pachirisu yet.” He said, jogging up to her. She was smiling softly at him, her long brown hair pulled back in a bandana. She was holding a bowl in her arms, no doubt the breakfast she had been making for the Pokémon when he had come downstairs that morning

“Don’t worry about that, go see your friend, and wish him luck!” she said, walking out the back door, “He’s going to battle his next gym leader!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Matteo muttered as he walked past her, setting his glass down as he went. 

He found Jonas by the front door, six Pokéballs attached to his waist, and a large bag on his back. He had his Jigglypuff out of its ball by his side, and it started bouncing when Matteo got closer.

“Hey, Luigi!” Jonas exclaimed, pulling him in for a hug, and Matteo squeezed his arms around his backpack. The hug was bittersweet, and he almost didn’t want to let go. He didn’t have many friends in his little town, and his responsibilities at the Pokémon Sanctuary made it difficult to go too far.

“You feeling ready?” Matteo asked, knowing what Jonas was going to say. He had always been confident, and was getting through the gyms at a rapid pace.

“Of course, bro,” he said, grinning and punching Matteo in the arm, “I feel ready to battle anyone after beating that ghost-type gym leader. That was rough, it took me four fucking tries!”

Matteo nodded as Jonas went off. Matteo had heard the stories many times, not just from Jonas, but similar ones from other trainers in his town; the gym leader that happened to be the closest to them also happened to be one of the toughest. His Pokémon were strong, he was strong, but most importantly his connection to each of them was strong. He was admired, envied, and heavily respected.

Nobody knew anything about him, though.

The gym was off deep in the woods, off of one of the random routes running through their town. It was not only hard to find, but hard to navigate, as once one entered it was quite clear that the house was designed to keep people out. There were traps and dead ends and looping hallways that all just led back to the beginning, and Jonas said it took him hours to even find the staircase that led to the gym leader.

“I should be heading off if I want to get to the city before it’s dark,” Jonas said, and extended his arms for another hug. Matteo squeezed him again, and said his own goodbye before Jonas ruffled his hair and went out the door, the Jigglypuff following close behind. Matteo let out a sigh, and walked back through his house. 

“Matteo, can you come here a second?” he heard his mother call from the kitchen, and he sighed again and poked his head into the room.

“Yeah, mama?” He asked, itching to get back outside. He had been making progress with the skittish Ponyta that hid whenever anyone else came near it, and he had been wanting to see if it would eat out of his hand that morning.

“You seem sad,” she said, and he stopped himself from rolling his eyes and walked further into the kitchen as she continued, “you’re not usually sad when Jonas or your other friends go off to battle.”

“Yeah, well, I’m going to miss him,” he said, knowing that wasn’t all, “last time he left he didn’t come back for a month. And I haven’t seen Abdi or Carlos in longer than that, and I don’t even know where Amira is right now.”

His mother nodded. She had heard him say that before, note that as the reason he was upset anytime the idea of gyms or badges or battling was brought up. She walked over to him and put a hand on his cheek, and smiled gently.

“You know, if you want to take a break from this and train,  you can.”

Matteo closed his eyes. It was something she had offered before, and he knew that there was almost no way he would be willing to take her up on it. The sanctuary was too important to him, no matter how much he might’ve wanted a party of his own. He didn’t need his own Pokémon when there were dozens that needed him right at home.

“I’m not going to stop helping you here, mama,” Matteo responded as usual, “this is more important than winning a few gym badges.”

“You wouldn’t even have to stop if you don’t want to,” she said, patting him on the cheek and moving back over to the stove where she was cooking their breakfast, “if you want to do both, find some Pokémon from the sanctuary. I’m sure some of them would be more than happy to battle with you.”

Matteo laughed sarcastically, and then actually thought about what his mother said, and his mouth drew into a line. He didn’t know if he wanted to put that burden on any of the Pokémon that they were caring for, even though he knew in the back of his head that some would be willing and able. He thought about that little Vulpix that would follow behind him and nip at his heels, and the Butterfree that would always swoop over his head and chirp happily at him, and even the Tauros with the eyepatch liked him as long as he was fed.

“I don’t know,” he settled on, and then turned to the door, “I’m going to check on the rest.”

****

Later that night, Matteo was sitting out on the roof outside of his room, after climbing through the window. It looked out over the entire sanctuary, but it was too dark for him to see much. He could see some small ripples in the water in the pond, but beyond that the only thing he could make out were sounds. He could hear something, probably a Rattata or Sandshrew, scratching and digging around the grass, and the melodic chirps of a Kricketot. He heard the same Noctowl as before cooing quietly in one of the trees, and he closed his eyes as a breeze blew by.

They were the sounds he had grown up with. Matteo was raised out in the sanctuary more than he was inside his own home. His mother and father had opened it soon after getting married, had built it into something highly respected in their community. They had a large staff working with them and they would get multiple calls each day from people finding injured Pokémon out in the wild.

There were photo albums full of him as an infant being stared at by a confused Pikachu, being (very carefully) held by a Kangaskhan, laughing as a Ledyba flew overhead. Once he was old enough he started working alongside his parents, and everyone in town loved the Florenzi’s, the couple that would save wild Pokémon with their wild son by their side. 

When Matteo was around twelve, things went a little sour. His dad started talking more about battling, and gyms, and how cool it would be to go out and see the world beyond their small town. He tried to convince Matteo that they could go off and battle together, father and son, and when Matteo refused, his father had gone quiet. A few days later, he came down for breakfast to his mother crying, his father’s stuff gone, and six of the Pokémon from the sanctuary missing as well.

He took a deep pull from the joint in his mouth, remembering the fierce promise he had made to himself that morning; he would never, ever, leave his mother like his father did. Battling and gym badges weren’t worth it.

But there was something in the back of Matteo’s head that was starting to get louder as he sat there. Something saying that just going to one gym wouldn’t be the same; he could work at the sanctuary during the day, train with (willing) Pokémon at night, and in a few weeks make the short trip to the ghost-type gym. He wasn’t expecting that he’d win, no matter what gym he went to, but the desire for something more was unfortunately undeniable. Matteo hated what his father did, but could understand the urge to run away. 

He stubbed the joint out and took one more look at the sanctuary before going back inside and getting ready for bed. As he climbed under the covers, he realized he made up his mind. His first task for the morning, alongside his usual morning chores, was to see which Pokémon wanted to, and were able to, battle. 

****

[Matteo makes a party and its kind of a mishmash of misfits but it’s the best he can do because he doesn't want to go out and catch wild Pokémon especially when he has some that want to battle with him]

[He spends a few weeks training and it's really tough and they aren’t amazing but they're better than he expected, and he doesn't really get why they love him and listen to him the way they do]

[One day he decided that he's ready and he promises his mom that he's gonna be back that night and he goes off to find the ghost type gym]

[He finds the gym and it looks completely abandoned and he has to climb over a gate to get in but he does it and then he has to walk through this super creepy dark place and he's having a rough time and he's getting more and more scared and worried that he's in the wrong place and that what he's doing is a bad idea and that he should just turn around when-]

And then finally, a staircase.

Matteo saw it at the end of the hall and sighed in relief. He was exhausted, glad that his Pokémon were in their Pokéballs so they weren’t as tired as him. He wiped the sweat off of his brow, and then tied his bandana around his head to keep his hair out of his face as he walked towards the stairs. He placed his foot on the first one and winced at the loud creak that came from it. He walked up the stairs carefully, seeing a door as he got closer to the top.

He finally reached the top of the stairway, and his shoulders dropped when he saw the door. There was a board across it, blocking it off, and Matteo felt anger start to bubble up inside him. He had spent hours trying to find the fucking place, had banked on Jonas mentioning a staircase, and had gotten so hopeful when he saw it. He huffed and, like a child, kicked hard at the door. His jaw dropped when it swung open.

He carefully made his way inside, his eyes scanning around the large room, too dark for him to make anything out. There seemed to be a fog making it even harder to see, and he waved his arm in front of him to see if he could clear it away. He took a few steps, and then a few more, and was about to take another when he heard a quiet, “I’d stop there if I were you.”

Matteo’s head snapped up and he froze, unable to tell where the sudden voice came from. He could feel his breathing pick up, and he could even hear it in the silence that followed the voice, and was about to turn and bolt when he heard, also quiet but with a bit of a laugh under it, “I didn’t mean to scare you, I just didn’t want you to fall in.”

Matteo whipped his head around, trying to figure out what he was about to fall in, when it seemed like the fog seemed to thin. He looked around the room as details became clearer, the blueish-green tiles on the walls and the white, chipped paint, and he looked down at his feet and stumbled back a few steps; he was standing right at the edge of what seemed to be a huge, empty, swimming pool.

Well, almost empty. As the fog cleared, Matteo could make out a figure on the other side, who seemed to be sitting on the edge, their feet dangling into the empty space below. He watched the figure kick off the edge and land with a quiet sound a few feet below in the pool itself, and then they started coming closer.

Matteo felt himself get nervous. Not scared, like he had been initially getting to the building, and wandering around in the dark, and when he had first come into the room and seen the fog. He was nervous, because there was no way that this person wasn’t the gym leader, which meant that he was about to battle a gym leader. 

“Are you going to come down here?” The voice asked again, definitely coming from the approaching gym leader. 

Matteo took a breath before looking around and spotting a ladder that led down into the pool. He made his way over on shaky legs and got himself down as carefully as he could, landing hard on his feet and stumbling a little. He righted himself just as he heard the gym leader stop, and he took another deep breath before looking up.

And he huffed out that breath, because the man standing in front of him had to be a dream, or maybe there was a Pokémon there that had some kind of power that was making him hallucinate, because there was no other explanation for how he was so beautiful. And Matteo knew that he shouldn’t have been focusing on that, but he was only human, and he was very, very gay.

“You’re quiet,” the gym leader said, crossing his arms over his chest and smiling, “you are here to battle, right?”

“Yes, I am,” Matteo said quickly, grabbing a hand around one of the Pokéballs around his waist, “my first one.”

He wanted to slap a hand over his face for saying that. He didn’t think that was good information to tell the person that he was about to battle if he wanted to seem confident, not that that wasn’t already out the window with his obvious panic. He watched the gym leader smile bright, and he wished it didn’t make his stomach jolt the way it did.

“Aw, you chose me to be your first?” he asked, placing a hand over his heart, “I’m honored.”

Matteo smiled. He was funny at least, even if he was going to beat Matteo and his Pokémon within six rounds probably. 

“Mostly just out of convenience, this is the gym closest to me.” he explained, not really knowing how much he was supposed to be talking. He had no idea what he was doing, at all, but the gym leader didn’t seem to be rushing anything along.

“That makes sense, I’m not usually the first gym people come to. I don’t know why that is, though,” he stepped back and threw his arms out, “I try to make it nice, you know?”

Matteo snorted, “Yeah, that fence you have to hop to get in is really welcoming, and the board across the door really makes me feel at home.”

The gym leader laughed, and Matteo let himself laugh with him, losing a bit of the nerves he had coming in.

“Well, I’m glad you like it,” he said, and then grabbed a Pokéball seemingly out of thin air, threw it up and then as he caught it turned to Matteo and asked, “so, are you ready for your first battle? I’ll go easy on you.”

He said it was a slightly patronizing grin, so Matteo grabbed his own Pokéball in his hand, tilted his head with a sweet smile and said, “Don’t worry, you don’t have to.”

David looked happily surprised and nodded, and before Matteo could react he threw the Pokéball into the air, and a Mimikyu landed on the ground in front of him. Matteo looked at it in shock.

“You have a Mimikyu?” he asked, wanting to get closer to look. The Pokémon was looking at him, or at least the disguise part was, gently flopping around on top of the Pokémon it was concealing inside.

“Yeah, it was one of my first,” the gym leader said with a small smile, and then shook himself out of it and grinned cocikly, “which means it’s one of my strongest.”

Matteo nodded, and threw his own Pokéball into the air, Vulpix springing onto the ground in front of him. It looked ready, stanced and nose pointed at the Mimikyu in front of it. The battle started when the gym leader called out his first move.

And Matteo lost. Badly, and quickly, and if he wasn’t so worried about getting home so he could tend to his Pokémon he would've been more embarrassed. He dropped to his knees next to his Sandshrew as it trembled on the ground from the last attack laid on it by the gym leader’s second Pokémon.

“That was pretty good for a first try,” he heard echo through the room, and he looked up and pushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

“It wasn’t good. I wasn’t meant to be a trainer, and these Pokémon weren’t meant to battle. I should just give up.” He sighed, and held the Pokéball out so the Sandshrew could return to it and rest. He got up and dusted himself off, and saw the gym leader standing much closer than he had been.

“It’s not that you weren’t good, you just weren’t ready. You have a connection to these guys. I can see it.” the gym leader said earnestly, reaching his hand out. 

“That doesn’t mean they should be battling,” he sighed, “they’re all from the sanctuary me and my mom have. I shouldn’t have made them do this.”

“You weren’t making them do anything,” the gym leader said quickly, “seriously, you can tell they’re enjoying it because they’re doing it with you. I’ve been a gym leader for a while, you should trust me on this. I know Pokémon.”

“Well, so do I,” Matteo said with an angry huff, making his mind up again, “and I’m done battling.”

He turned, ignoring the disappointed look on the face of the gym leader, and climbed up the ladder before hurrying home.

****

[Matteo really doesnt think hes gonna go back but the pokemon were having fun and he kinda wants to see david again so he starts training again, gets a bit stronger and goes back]

He found it easier the second time, and made his way through it easier the second time too, as if he actually remembered the way through the crazy maze inside. When he got to the top of the stairs and saw the boarded up door again he snorted, and took a deep breath before pushing his way into the room again.

He was greeted by the same thick fog, the same tiles around the walls, the same chipping paint, but he knew to not take too many steps in. He figured the gym leader knew he came in, as the fog started clearing again once he was in the room, and he saw the same figure seated in the same spot on the edge of the pool.

“Oh, the boy from the Pokémon sanctuary!” the gym leader called out as he jumped down onto the pool tiles, “I’ve been expecting you.”

Matteo laughed and said, “I didn’t think I was coming back, how could you have been expecting me?”

“I could see it in your eyes,” the gym leader took a few steps closer, “you want to win. Or you want to prove something. No matter what it is, you have a reason to be here.”

Matteo smiled before making his way down the ladder and into the pool. His feet hit the tiles and he turned around so he could the gym leader, who he was getting very tired of only referring to as ‘the gym leader’.

“What’s your name?” he asked quickly, before he could think better of it, “Like, I know your whole thing is being mysterious but I have a feeling I’m going to be coming back here again.”

“Oh, so we’re already on a first name basis?” the gym leader asked, spinning around and a few steps towards the wall he had been sitting on, and he leaned his back against it, smiling.

“I just figured it’ll save us time later. Easier to do it now than in a month when it’ll be awkward.” He shrugged, offering a half smile. He tried to play it off as a joke, but he wanted to know.

He watched the gym leader smile, and then bite his lip and look down at the floor. He tapped his foot on the ground a few times before kicking off the wall and saying, “Okay, then. I’m David.”

Matteo smiled, nodded, quietly responded, “I’m Matteo,” and took a Pokéball off of his belt. 

[witchcraft-in-wonderland]

Poor Little Anxious Crybaby (Pt.13)

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

Virgil seemed to be spending more and more time with Remus and Roman, not that anyone involved minded this change. But it wasnt the only thing that seemed to be changing.

This was the third week in a row in which Virgil seemed to be kept up for most of the night by dreams he couldnt understand. Sometimes he could make out the shapes of rabbits cats or mice, but rarely could he understand them.

"Maybe you just wanna be a mountain lion, I mean mountain lions could literally get away with ripping someone limb from limb, I'd wanna be a mountain lion," Remus said, running his fingers through Virgil's hair as Virgil lay across the couch.

"What I don't understand is why it would be waking you up, I mean, it's not like being a mountain lion is generally upsetting, right?" Roman said, pulling the hem of his sweater over his knees.

"Yeah. . . ." Virgil said, burying his face in Remus' stomach.

"Careful there bud, I gotta use that to digest stuff," Remus said, letting out a cackle as Virgil blew a raspberry against the skin.

"Well we dont need to focus on dreams now, anyone up for a game?" Roman said, shaking a controller.

"Ooohhh! I'll order pizza!" Remus said, bolting up off the couch. Virgil let out a whine at the loss of contact as his head landed on the couch pillows.

"Aaaawwweee, sorry Vivi, I'll come back in a little, but can you give me your order, Ro? You're usual?" Remus said, looking at both boys in turn.

"Cheese,,," Virgil mumbled.

"I'm not hungry," Roman said, bringing his legs closer to his chest. Remus seemed slightly upset by the response, but simply nodded and went to call the pizza place. Virgil moved closer to Roman, who draped an arm around him.

"Roro?. . ." Virgil said quietly.

"Hm?" Roman leaned his head on Virgil's.

"When we get back to school are you still gonna have to be friends with 'You-know-who' are you?" Virgil said, he hadnt thought about the kids at school for most of the summer, but it was nearly September, so the memory was slowly creeping back in.

Roman sat there for a few seconds, rubbing circle's into Virgil's back.

"I dont know Vivi. . . He's not exactly easy to get away from y'know?" Roman said sadly, Virgil buried his head in Roman's shoulder.

Virgil had known Inigo since they were kids, and they had never been friendly. But since becoming friends with Roman, Virgil had learned of even more reasons to despise the boy.

"I hope he and Brennan get together," Virgil muttered, casting a distinct glance at the sewing kit on the coffee table. Roman let out a soft chuckle, burying his head in Virgil's hair.

"That can be arranged," Remus said, sitting down next to the pair and draping himself across Virgil's back.

"Guuuyyyssss- you're crushing meeeeee," Virgil said, pouting.

"Not my fault you're so tiny," Remus said, resting his head in the crook of Virgil's neck.

"I'm only 4'8!" Virgil whined.

"Tinyyyyyy~" the twins chimed in unison.

Virgil had to admit that the feeling was nice, he was warm and happy, and for once in his life, he felt safe.

He and the twins spent a good portion of the day beating the crap out of fictional characters in a video game and stuffing their faces with pizza, Remus had taught Virgil how to make a volcano out of melted metal and an ant hill, much to Roman's distress.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow ok?" Virgil said as he stepped out the door to go home.

"Did you have fun kiddo?" Patton said as Virgil walked into the kitchen.

"Mhm," Virgil smiled as he rested his head on the kitchen counter.

"Dont forget to take your medication before dinner Virgil, I'm hoping the doctor will be right about it helping you sleep easier," Emile said, setting the bottle down next to Virgil.

"I wish they made this stuff in liquid form more often- how do you take all your stuff so easily?" Virgil said, raising an eyebrow at Emile.

"Its hard for me to, but usually if I take the water first and slip the medicine in after it's easier because it's already floating," Emile said, shrugging.

Virgil thought on this for a moment before nodding slightly. Virgil liked Emile a lot more than he'd first expected, of course sometimes he was a little different, but usually he and Virgil could just sit on the couch and talk about cartoons, and Virgil could even tell him about his nightmares without getting scared.

Of course there were some things he still didnt know about Emile, but if Patton or Emile didnt want to tell him things, he wasnt about to ask for information he shouldnt need.

Settling down for bed that night still felt bad, but Virgil didnt mention it, he didnt want to bother anyone.

Virgil awoke in a patch of soft grass, which upon closer inspection, seemed to be more of a dull teal color than the green it ought to have been.

"There you are! We've been looking everywhere for you!" Said a voice, Virgil looked up to see what looked to be a girl with white rabbit ears, wearing a waist coat and khaki shorts, a boy with a hat, a tux, and hair that varied from shades of brown and blonde on one side, and various other colors on the other, between the two was a girl with brown bunny ears, her outfit seemed to be an attempt at formality which only ended in the tattered remains of what could have once been a met gala dress.

"Who are you?-" Virgil said, sitting up and shaking his head slightly in confusion.

"Aaawww, you dont recognize us?" Said the brown bunny.

"Well of course he doesnt! When's the last time you saw him at the tea party! I mean look at his clothes! Hardly appropriate for such a special event." Said the man with the hat. Virgil looked down at his clothes, he was still in his pajamas.

"Come on- we have to get you dressed first, I cant imagine what would happen if we brought you to the king dressed like that!" Said the white rabbit, dragging Virgil off the ground and marching toward a small house on a hill.

It seemed like hours before the mission the three people seemed so set on completing was finished, and by the end of it Virgil found himself in a dusty purple dress with white sleeves, a black bow and buttons on the chest, white lace on the skirt hem, white stockings, and black boots. If he was being honest with himself, he'd never been happier to look at his reflection.

"Well come on then! The king is waiting for you!" Said the boy with the hate.

"Now hold on a second- I dont even know your names, how am I supposed to trust that you'll take me to the right place?" Virgil said.

The three figures in front of him exchanged glances.

"Hes right you know, I'd never trust someone without a name,"

"I made friends with a nameless person once, they stole my cat,"

"But if we give him our names outright then it's no fun!"

Virgil looked between the three of them in confusion, waiting for the conversation to end.

"Ok, we wont tell you our names, but you can guess them," said the boy with the hat.

The white rabbit stepped up first, she mimicked placing a crown on her head, and then mimicked a sword being pulled from something and swinging it around.

"Well- it cant be Arthur, you dont strike me as an Arthur- so is it. . . Gwenivere?" Virgil said, the girl shook her head but made a motion of begging him on.

"Gwendolyn?" Virgil said.

"You got it!" Gwendolyn said excitedly, clasping her hands together and bouncing from foot to foot. She stepped back and allowed the second rabbit to take her place.

This one held out two fingers first, dropped one, and began to imitate what seemed to be waves.

"Waverly?" Virgil said, the girl nodded and held up two fingers again, proceeding to drop them and hold up a full hand, pointing to calendar that had floated down from the ceiling.

"Waverly-Mae?" Virgil said, the girl nodded and spun on her heel to walk back next to Gwendolyn.

"And that leaves me for last I suppose," said the boy with the hat, making a sort of disappointed face to the girls as he walked up to Virgil. He mimicked both a face that Virgil would describe as angry, and one he would describe as having a few screws out of place.

"Mad?" Virgil said, the boy nodded and kept going, placing one finger on either side of his head and digging his foot into the ground.

"Maddox?" Virgil said, tilting his head. Maddox smiled and nodded.

"Well now that you know our names, you'll have to meet our king!" Gwendolyn said, grabbing Virgil by the arm and rushing off.

It took ages for them to reach what Virgil believed to be the palace. It was large and black with red and green accents along the sides, this left a sinking feeling in Virgil's chest.

"I present to you, his most gracious majesty, King Rhea!" Gwendolyn said, backing into a line with several guards dressed in red and white. Maddox and Waverly-Mae fell in line with the knights in black and green.

Virgil looked forward, in front of him and sitting on a throne was a man who shared much to many similarities with the twins to be comforting.

Though one eye was green and one eye was red, and rather than red or dark brown hair, his was black and white, but he still had the same smirk, the same demeanor Remus and Roman had when out on the town.

"So glad you could finally make it, your excellency," said Rhea, now turning his head to look at Virgil.

"I-" Rhea held his hand up, Virgil's mouth closed almost immediately.

"I know what you're going to say, and you are absolutely correct, you are not royalty, you are something much more important,"

Virgil woke up in a cold sweat, and it wasnt until he looked at himself in the mirror that he realized, he was still wearing the very same dress as before.

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

Tag list:

@frawkeye

@meowthefluffy

@thefivecalls

@luna--28

@deathcanbegreat

@willowaudreykeyes

@sleepless-emo

@teamplutoforlife

@melodiread

@cemmy

@pricklyfish777

@frog-candy-bee

[comicgeekscomicgeek]

Chapter 75: Let’s Get This Show on the Road

Presenting the next installment of my on-going, nextgen, MHA fic! Earlier chapters can be found here

Some are mine, but a decent chunk of the 1-C kids in this chapter were created by tumblr user and number one fic fan on tumblr @uninvited-eon​

“Okay everyone, gather ‘round!”  Itsuka Tetsutetsu called out to her class.  Around the common room, the sixteen students of Class 1-C began to gather, some listlessly, some begrudgingly, but none of them eagerly. Her heart ached for them.  

Whereas Aizawa and Super-Ball’s classes had passed their Final Exam… her class had failed.

She felt a strong measure of guilt over that.  They were only the second group of students she’d shepherded through U.A. and she could not help but feel like she’d failed them somehow.  Had she not trained them well enough?  Had she not stressed the need for teamwork and cooperation, of thinking things through?  They’d all done well in their Heroics Class and two of them had even made it to the Tournament round of the Sports Festival.  And yet, when it had come down to it, victory had slipped from their grasp.  Aizawa and Fujii had both told her she wasn’t to blame, as had her husband, but she still felt the sting of failure.  She’d already vowed to do better by her kids.  She’d already been working on new ideas for the next term.  

“Yes, Sensei?” Yoru Kan, tall, buff, and pale, asked from her spot on one of the couches.  It was strange to think her old teacher had a daughter the same age as Itsuka’s own child, but such was life sometimes.

“I know you’re all upset about not getting to go to the Training Camp with the other classes,” Itsuka said.

Ichigo Minoru, the lion-like Class Representative, growled.  “We should have done better.”

This earned him a glare from the pink-haired Momoko Hohki, who blew a gum-bubble generated by her Quirk, popping it noisily.  “You want to say that again, Fuzzball?” The two had never really gotten along.  Hohki had… issues with authority.

“I’m just saying we could have done better,” Minoru said.  He held up furry hands.  She knew he bore the loss heavily as well, taking it quite personally.  He was brave and selfless, but he had to be wondering if his leadership skills hadn’t been up to snuff.  “That’s all.”

“I think we all know who screwed up,” Kan said gruffly, crossing her arms.  

Ayahiko Akiyama pushed his glasses up, the red frames standing out against skin that was even paler than Kan’s.  “Well, it sure wasn’t me.”   His color-manipulating Quirk had been useful during the exam, unleashing wildly shifting color patterns to disorient some of their foes, but the lack of responsibility was typical too.  She and the other teachers hadn’t been able to get him to step up just yet.  They were giving it time, but he’d either shape up for ship out.

“Like hell it wasn’t,” Reiki Akamatsu snapped, the green quills along her head bristling.  “You and Enoshima both!  Throwing up your damn light shows so we couldn’t see!”

Hitomi Enoshima, whose Kaleidoscope Vision Quirk made looking her in the eyes dangerous, took offense with that.  “I told you to get out of the way!  Not my fault you didn’t listen!”

“Shouting “get out of the way, losers!” doesn’t count as telling people to get out of the way,” Kin Shiji snapped.  The parts of his face that weren’t patches of metallic gold were flush with irritation.

“Can we… can we not fight?” Shika Mizuno asked.  The antlered girl bowed her head and closed her eyes.  She was gentle and soft-spoken, reminding Itsuka very much of her friend and former classmate Komori.  Trying to play peacemaker when the more outspoken members of the class fought was common for her.

Unfortunately, Mizuno’s words did little to quell the arguments brewing.  Sides were taken, insults shouted, and things started getting loud very quickly.  

Employing her Quirk, Itsuka enlarged her hands and brought them together in a singular clap that resonated throughout the room.  It left some of the Class holding their ears, especially the lion-like Minoru and the bear-like Tsukiko Kuma.  But it did its job and silenced them all for a moment.  

“Sorry about that,” she said, reducing the size of her hands back to normal.  “But I could tell that was going to get ugly.  And fighting amongst yourselves is part of why you failed the exam.”  There had been so much arguing, so many strong-willed hot heads in her class determined to do things their own way.  They’d gotten in each other’s way during the exam, hadn’t coordinated properly, and ultimately the faux-Villains had gotten away with their target.  

“You’ve got potential,” she said.  “I believe in you.  But there’s a lot we need to work on.  Which is why, while the other Hero classes are at their Training Camp, we’re going to be having one here at the USJ.  Water Spout, Doc Clock, and I will be putting you through your paces from pretty much sunup to sundown, with a particular focus on teamwork and collaboration.”

She frowned.  “Failing your exam is a big deal.  But it’s one you can come back from, with hard work. I believe in all of you.  Which is why I also arranged for some extra help with your additional training.”

At that, the doors burst open.  “Woooo!  Who’s ready for some training?!”

Itsuka pinched the bridge of her nose.  “Tetsu, I told you to wait outside until I texted you.”

Her husband blushed and smiled sheepishly.  “Sorry, ‘suka.  Got done dropping Kana off and got bored… figured you’d be ready by now.”

It was going to be a long two weeks.

***

Nearly all of Class 1-A and Class 1-B had already assembled by the time Katsumi arrived.  She’d been rather insisted that she and Dad not arrive together.  It was going to be enough of a pain having him as one of her teachers, but she could live with that.  This was a practical matter of asserting her own independence.  And there was some small part of her that wanted to take in everyone’s reactions when they found out about him.  Maybe she ought to get her phone ready.  Depending on how people reacted, she could get a new ringtone out of it.

Izzy gave her a polite nod as she approached.  “It is good to see you, Katsumi,” she said.

“Good to see you too, Iz,” she replied.  Thoughts of her dad’s promise to push all of them hard ran though her mind.  She’d spent years thinking of Izzy as fragile and in need of protection.  Even if the last few months of U.A. had told her otherwise, her first instinct was always going to be to protect her friend.   Even if she and Iz weren’t romantically compatible, she loved her still, as the most important person in her life.  “All set for roughing it?”

Izzy closed her eyes and nodded.  “I believe so,” she said.  “My parents were concerned, of course, but ultimately convinced that I would be in good hands.”

Of course they were. Katsumi nearly rolled her eyes. Izzy’s parents were crazy protective sometimes.  Nearly all the time, actually.  She’d have thought they’d have learned by now.   Best not to think about it, it would just make her angry.

“Any idea where they’re taking us?” she asked instead.  Even without Villains after the Hero classes, U.A. had stopped publicizing the location of its Training Camps years ago.  It was a lot safer that way.  Not that she’d been able to get anything out of Dad.  He’d cited “tradition” as being the reason he couldn’t tell her.  She was also sure getting on her nerves was also one of the reasons.

Izzy shook her head. “I am afraid I have no idea.  We shall just have to see.”

Katsumi just laughed. “Ah, well.  Worth a shot.”

In the meantime, she could see the Class Representatives making the rounds, with Toshi and Tokyami talking to the members of their class, and Kana and Awase talking to theirs. She could see Aizawa too, off to the side and in consultation with 1-B’s teacher, Super-Ball.  She couldn’t hear what was being said, but Aizawa was giving the rubber-bodied Hero a death glare and looking like he wanted to be absolutely anywhere else on the planet.  Super-Ball was talking animatedly and occasionally elbowing Aizawa in the side. Given what she’d heard about Super-Ball, her sympathy was entirely with Aizawa.  

“Five hundred yen says Aizawa wraps his head up to stop him from talking,” she said to Izzy.

Izzy shook her head again. “What is it you would say? “That’s a sucker’s bet?’”

Katsumi laughed again. “You are listening.”  She doubted Izzy had ever seen that small an amount of money in her life anyway.

Around them, most of the class was in its usual friendship groups.  She could see Shinso babbling to Haimawari, who was indulging the hyperactive, purple-haired kid, nodding occasionally at whatever he was going on about. Sero, Sato, and Ojiro were talking as always, probably discussing content for their damned web show. The Iida twins and the new girl with the wings, Kocho, were watching the discussion with something somewhere between amusement, fascination, and confusion.  Mineta was talking to Koda, while Aoyama and Shoji stood a little bit apart from the rest of the class.  One person she did notice was missing though.  It wasn’t until she looked around until she noticed…

“Hey, Iz?” Katsumi asked.

“Yes?”

“Why the hell is Kaminari hanging out with Monoma?”  Izzy was friends with the electric dumbass.  There was a decent chance she’d known what was going on.  

“I cannot say,” Izzy told her.  

“But you know,” she pressed.  

“Chihiro has asked that I not speak of it.”

“…What.”

***

“What?” Chihiro asked, as Monoma slipped the bracelet around her wrist.  It had been made in the kumihimo style, she could tell, yellow with just a little bit of black in it, like her hair.  She wasn’t sure they were at the gift-giving stage of… whatever it was exactly they were doing.   They’d gone out once.  

Which had been nice, she actually had to admit.  Nothing fancy, just a walk and some ice cream, but he’d turned out to be surprisingly good company.  When he wasn’t being a competitive asshole or didn’t have Kirishima-Bakugo around to rile him up, he could actually be a decent guy, and even pretty funny.   He was smarter than her, that much was sure, and ridiculously well-read, but he didn’t lord it over her and listened when she talked, especially about music, he actually asked questions and wanted to know more.  He’d been more encouraging during that walk that he’d been in the entirety of the time she’d known him before.

More vulnerable too. He’d been damn close to quitting before he’d talked to her.  And then there was the way he talked about his classmates and how much potential he saw in all of them…

She was beginning to understand what Mika had seen in the guy.  Granted, Mika’s type was “alive,” but she was actually beginning to see why Koda willingly associated with him.  

They’d talked on the phone and texted more on top of that.  She’d actually found herself looking forward to it.  Chihiro was well aware she was no amazon with pneumatic boobs like Mika or Sora Iida, or even a girly fashionista like Ojiro.  She was relatively plain, her curves barely there. She was fit, but hardly a paragon of physical fitness, and she was never going to be the smartest person on the planet. Even her Quirk wasn’t that impressive without lots of Support Gear.

Having someone actually interested in her, for who she was, when there were so many other better options available was still a surprise.

“It’s a gift,” Monoma said. “I made it myself.”   He smiled, sheepishly.  “I watch a lot of tutorials on Viewtube, so I can pick up other skills. You never know when it might come in handy.  Besides, it’s more than that.  It’s a promise.”

“A promise of what?” Chihiro cast a few nervous glances around.  Someone—Ojiro probably—was probably already noticing she’d been talking with Monoma for a while now and speculating wildly. Several of Class 1-B were definitely already looking at her.  

She wasn’t exactly as embarrassed by the thought of people finding out she was dating him as she’d have thought, but she’d kind of wanted to control the message.  But he’d been so insistent on giving her the bracelet before the busses arrived…

“It’s an apology too, for my earlier behavior, but it is a promise,” Monoma said, “that I won’t kiss you again.”  He leaned in close, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “Until you kiss me first.”  She was pretty sure she heard Fukidashi gasp.

Well, wasn’t that presumptuous of him?  Why was he so pretty when he was being so arrogant?  “Don’t,” she breathed, her Cords rising up reflexively, sparks dancing on the tips, “don’t you mean “unless?’”

He gave her one of those all too confident smiles, his eyes practically twinkling.  “Giving up on us so soon?”

Chihiro flushed red and couldn’t find the words to respond to that.

***

Toshi looked down at the clipboard he was carrying, nodded, and looked over to Asuka.  “That everybody?” he asked.

“It is,” Asuka told him, checking her own clipboard.  Frog-Shadow was sitting on her shoulder, looking vaguely bored.  “Everyone’s here, everyone’s luggage is accounted for, and the buses should be here in about ten minutes.”

“Good,” he said. Being Class Representative came with a lot of responsibilities, but his classmates made it easy.  None of them put him through half has much as their parents’ class had put Uncle Tenya through.  The worst he usually had to do was keep Katsumi from killing Mineta when the latter was being particularly aggravating or mediate a conflict between Aoyama and Sero.  It helped that he’d known the majority of them for years and understood their eccentricities.  

“Okay!” Toshi called out. “Everybody listen up!”  It took a moment—Sero was being especially chatty—but eventually, everyone did quiet down, with Kaminari hurriedly joining the group at the end.

“Thank you,” Asuka told them.  “Toshi and I both want you to know we expect all of you to be on your best behavior during the Training Camp.  Aizawa-Sensei wishes for us to emphasize that there will be severe consequences for misbehavior.”

“He was really scary when he said it!” Frog-Shadow piped in.  

“He was,” Toshi agreed, shuddering at the memory.  “But I know you’re all mature, responsible individuals who can be counted on not to do anything stupid.”

“How’d you manage to say that right a straight face, Toshi?” Katsumi asked, arms crossed, grinning smugly.

“It wasn’t easy,” he admitted.  “Now, any last questions?”

Mineta’s hand went up.

“That aren’t about fraternization during the camp?”

Mineta’s hand went down. Toshi breathed a sigh of relief.

He turned around and looked over to where Aizawa and Super-Ball were.  “All set,” he called out.  He heard Kana Tetsutetsu do the same.  

The two teachers walked over so they were standing in front of the two classes.  “Thanks, Class Reps!” Super-Ball said, grinning broadly. He spread his arms in an expansive gesture.  “Is everybody ready for a summer of fun?!”

Silence greeted him.

“That’s right!” 1-B’s teacher went on, as though they’d responded.  “Well that’s too bad, because Aizawa canceled all the fun.  Your friendly neighborhood bouncing ball tried to talk him out of it, but well, you try arguing with that face.  C’mon, make the face, Aizawa.”

Aizawa’s expression did not change.

“Yeah,” Super-Ball said. “That’s the one.  Seriously, though, you guys are gonna work really hard. But I know you can do it, and you’re gonna be better for it!  And we’ve got one extra surprise for you.   You want to take this one, Aizawa?”

“Right,” Aizawa said flatly. “In addition to Fujii and myself, your new Heroics teacher will also be accompanying us.”

A dozen plus conversations broke out among the two classes, as they began to speculate who that might be. Toshi had known that with Grandpa Might becoming the new principal, they were looking to fill the slot, but he hadn’t known for sure that anyone had accepted the job.  The weird thing was, neither Katsumi nor Shota seemed surprised by the news.  

“Who is it?” Rika Bondo, the blue slime girl from 1-B, asked.  

“That’s be me.”

“Uncle Kachan?!” Toshi stammered out.  Uncle Kachan had appeared almost out of nowhere, no less stealthy for his recent injury.  He was dressed comfortable, in civilian clothes, but still looked ready to take on any challenge that might come his way.  There was the slightest of limps to his step, but you had to be really looking to notice it.

But never, in a million years, would he have thought he’d be their new teacher!  

Someone had let out a girlish shriek.  “Oh, man, Monoma!” Anime Fukidashi giggled.  “You should have seen the look on your face!”

“Oh no, oh no, oh no, we’re all going to die,” Sero wailed.  He’d gone a distinctly paler shade of pink.  

“Well,” Toshi heard Izumi say, “this is unexpected.”

“This is… wow…” Haimawari trailed off.

“Guys? Seriously?  I think Monoma’s broke.  He hasn’t moved for, like, a minute.”  Fukidashi’s voice carried over all the others.  “Tetsutetsu, maybe you want to smack him?”

“I’m fine, dammit!” Monoma snapped.   All eyes were instantly on him.   He gulped nervously.  “My… apologies, Senseis.”

Uncle Kachan didn’t seem to care and Aizawa was as impassive as ever.    

“Breathe, kid,” Super-Ball said.   “He’s legally prohibited from killing you.”   He winked.  “But you’d be surprised what you can live through.”

Uncle Kachan looked over at Aizawa.  “Is he always like this?”

Aizawa just sighed. “This is actually one of his more sedate days.”

“And you didn’t think to mention that, you sorry excuse for a hobo?!”

“If I have to suffer, so do you.”

“You two do know I can hear you, right?” Super-Ball asked, though he didn’t sound offended.  “And so can they?  The impressionable children?”

Uncle Kachan sighed, then turned his attention to them.  “I’m not big on speeches.  So I’m just letting you all know now, All Might was the good cop.  I’m the bad cop.  And I’m gonna work you all like you’ve never been worked before!”

Several of the students gasped.  Toshi was pretty sure he saw Monoma look faint.  Katsumi just grinned that grin she did before she punched someone.  

Anything else was cut off as the automated buses arrived, one of which seemed a bit larger than the other, probably to accommodate Kentaro Fukui, the nearly three meters tall member of 1-B.   “About time,” Aizawa said.  “Get your luggage loaded and then get on the bus.  Class 1-A in the first bus, Class 1-B in the second.  We leave in ten, with or without you.”

***

It didn’t take long for the buses to get underway.  Aizawa was seated in the front of the bus, Uncle Katsuki in the back.  The various couples in the class were sitting together, as were the usual friends like Chihiro and Mineta and Isamu and Shota, while Asuka was sitting with their new classmate Kocho.  Their odd numbers meant that Shoji was sitting alone, though he didn’t seem bothered by it.  And, of course, Izumi was sitting with Katsumi.

Izumi turned to look at her friend.  “So,” she said, “I am assuming you knew about this?”

Katsumi smirked at that. “Oh yeah.  All Might offered him the job a couple of days after the break started.  He thought about it for maybe a day tops before he said yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

That earned her another smirk from Katsumi.  “You didn’t ask.”

A smile spread across Izumi’s face and a small giggle escaped her lips.  “That is true,” she said.  “I did not.”

“Besides,” Katsumi added, “he swore me to secrecy.”

Uncle Katsuki would certainly be a… different teacher than All Might, she was sure.  But he was Japan’s Number Four Hero, with numerous Villain captures and cases solved behind him.  The media often liked to paint him as a volatile brawler, but she knew there was far more to him than that.

Izumi nodded.  “He has a wealth of experience to offer.  I am sure he will take to the role readily.” More importantly, Izumi was glad to see that Uncle Katzuki was doing well and getting back to something approximating normal.  With traumatic injuries like he had experienced, it took a truly exceptional individual to come back from them.  But then again, her father often said that Uncle Katsuki had “more guts than sense.”  She was reasonably certain that he had not meant it was a compliment—especially as her mother had swatted him for saying it—but guts were definitely required here.

“Yeah, well…” Katsumi trailed off.  Her dear friend rarely allowed herself to be vulnerable, and even here, it was only for the briefest of moments.  “Beats having him mope around the house while he’s taking medical leave.”

Medical leave, not retirement.  That was potentially promising sounding.  “They are hopeful for a more functional prosthetic?”   Katsumi had told her that her father’s Quirk made traditional prosthetics unwieldy for long term use, but that Doctor Shield and Mei Hatsume were working on a better one.

Katsumi shrugged. “Nothing yet.  They really don’t know if he’ll ever…”  Her voice started to crack, but she was fighting it.  She so hated to show weakness in front of anyone, even her.

Izumi reached over and gave her friend’s hand a squeeze.  Katsumi returned the grip, mindful that Izumi was not as strong as she. No other words needed to be said. As always, they would have each other’s back.

“But yeah,” Katsumi went on, her tone shifting back to something more in line with her usual self, “in the meantime, he’s going to make everybody here’s life hell.”  She looked around the bus.  “Pretty sure Aoyama and Sero might die.  Maybe Monoma too.”  That caused her to snicker.  “Did you see his face?”

“I did,” Izumi said, her tone carefully neutral.  She did not wish to encourage Katsumi’s delight in the misfortunate of others, though that was probably a battle she would not win.  But Uncle Katsuki would likely be an unrelenting taskmaster, and she knew she could expect no favors or special treatment due to her friendship with Katsumi or her own limitations.

Limitations she would not have were it not for her grandfather.

No.  She could not dwell on that now.  She had learned much, but she was still deciding what to do with that information.  Izumi had not even mentioned her visit with her grandfather to her parents. Mercifully, Chihiro and Mineta had not pressed her for details, respecting her privacy.  Soon, she hoped, when she had time to grapple with the reality of it, she would tell her friends.  But for now, she needed to focus on getting stronger.  She would need all her wits about her for the camp ahead.

***

“Anxious?” Asuka asked Kocho.  Frog-Shadow was dozing on her lap.  Long rides always had that effect on her familiar.  She knew their new classmate was already friends with Toshi, Haimawari, Sero, Ojiro, and Sato, but as elected Vice-Representative and unofficial “Class Mom”, she too had a duty to reach out to her, so she’d volunteered to sit with her for the bus ride while the others paired off.  Frog-Shadow had been upset that she wasn’t going to sit next to Shoji, but her other half had to learn that, even with their increased cooperation, she couldn’t always get what she wanted.

The moth-girl shook her head.  “Yes,” she said.  “Sorry, did I just contradict myself?”  Her wings were folded around her as much as she could make them, taking up the majority of her seat.

“A bit,” Asuka told her. “But understandable.  Are you comfortable?  I don’t mind pulling up the arm rest.”

“I’m fine,” Kocho said. “Little close, but it doesn’t hurt. This is still nicer than taking the city bus.”  She gave Asuka a reassuring smile.  

Asuka flipped up the armrest anyway and Kocho let her wings spread out a small amount.  “I won’t say your anxiety is unwarranted,” she said.  The truth of others experiences and feelings was not open for debate.  “But this is very standard for the Hero Courses.  They find a few Heroes or a Hero team from outside the school, so that they can bring a fresh perspective to our training, and under our teachers’ guidance, push us to increase the strength and versatility of our Quirks and skills.  It will be exhausting… but ultimately rewarding.”

She looked down at the sleeping frog on her lap.  Nothing but peace and contentment flowed through their link.  Asuka was determined to enjoy it while she could.  It wouldn’t last long once Frog-Shadow was awake. “Though what exactly they can do with this little one, I’m not sure.”

Kocho chuckled at that. “Any idea who they got to teach this year’s then?  Or is that one of those ‘rational deceptions’ Deku and Shinso were trying to warn me about?”

“They keep it a secret,” Asuka told her.  “Though it’s not a rational deception in this case.  It’s really more of just a U.A. tradition.  They like keeping us on our toes.”

This got a nod. “Makes sense, I guess.  Any idea what they were talking about then?”

Asuka could hazard a guess. “You probably don’t have to worry about that,” she said.  “If they try to drop us off a cliff, you can fly.”

“You’re, you’re joking about that, right?” Kocho asked, dark eyes going wide.  “Tell me you’re joking!”

“Not at all,” she replied. She put a finger to the side of her beak in thought.  “I’m told it wasn’t a particularly big cliff, though.”

“I still can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” Kocho replied.

“She doesn’t joke,” Frog-Shadow said sleepily, stirring on her lap. “She’s the most boring person alive!  I’m the fun one in this relationship!”

Asuka looked down to glare at her living Quirk.  “And here I was enjoying the peace and quiet.”  She shook her head.  “But I doubt there will be any surprises like that at this Training Camp.”

***

They’d been on the road for about three hours and the anxiety in the bus had practically become a palpable thing.  They’d made two stops already for bathroom and snack breaks and Isamu was fairly certain most of his classmates were going to jump out of their skin every time. About the only people who weren’t waiting for the other shoe to drop were Kocho, who didn’t know any better, and Shinso, who didn’t seem to see Aizawa in the same way as everyone else.  Between their parents stories of school and their own experiences so far this year (Sending real—albeit reformed—Villains after them?  What?), they were all rightfully paranoid.

Granted, his parents had known Aizawa too, even if they hadn’t been his students.  They’d said he was gruff, but fair, and had actually been supportive of the work they’d done, despite them being Vigilantes.  That somehow didn’t make him any less scary.

Throughout the trip, Shinso had kept up a steady stream of talk about Heroes and recent Hero events. Isamu had nodded along politely to a lot of it, occasionally adding to the conversation, but mostly letting the smaller boy talk.  The two of them had gotten into a debate though, over whether Shoto or Gale Force was cooler, when Shinso had brought up a recent team-up the two of them had had.  

Shinso had been rather insistent that Shoto was cooler, especially because of the fast way he could take down Villains without anyone being hurt.  Isamu, on the other hand, had gone to the mat for Gale Force, liking the Hero’s larger than life personality and All Might level of cheer. It had been a friendly debate, though neither one of them was backing down from their position.

The two of them were sitting more towards the back of the bus.  Occasionally, Shinso would look back to where Ground Zero was sitting, his arms crossed, and looking vaguely irritated, occasionally smiling a very familiar smile, as though enjoying some private joke.  It was the same one Kirishima-Bakugo made before she punched something.  The Number Four Hero was their new Heroics teacher?  Ground Zero certainly had a reputation as having a hair trigger temper, but there was no denying that he was also really good at what he did.  The look on his face suggested he was going to get far too much enjoyment out of putting them through their paces.

He’d survived Kirishima-Bakugo this long.  How much worse could it be?

“Toshi!  Toshi!” Shinso piped up.  “You’ve gotta settle this!  Who’s more awesome?  Shoto or Gale Force?”

Midoriya was across the aisle from them, sitting with his girlfriend.  Sora Iida was leaning against him, absorbed in some technical manual. Midoriya was definitely making progress. Not that long ago, that much prolonged physical contact would have had him shaking like a leaf.

Isamu was hoping to get some time with his girlfriend as well, this trip.  Kana had loved the signed Godzillo statue he’d brought back for her from I-Island (He didn’t tell her he’d lost the first one) and they’d managed to see a marathon of his movies between his return and the leaving for the camp.  Hopefully, she wouldn’t be too busy wrangling her class that they couldn’t share a few moments of their limited downtime.

“Oh no,” Midoriya said quickly, “I’m not getting dragged into this.  Besides, I’m a Lemillion guy.”

“Not one of the choices,” Isamu told him, chuckling.  Leave it to Midoriya not to take sides.  

“I stand by my statement,” Midoriya told him.  

“Aw,” Shinso said, pouting, “you were supposed to agree with me!”

Midoriya just laughed. “Maybe next time, Shota.”

Before they could continue, the bus came to a stop.  Isamu checked the time on his phone. They’d been traveling a while now; it had been a little over an hour since their last stop.  They’d left the main roads behind after the second stop, taking back roads, until they’d pulled through a long stretch of wooded areas.  He was pretty sure he’d seen more than a few security cameras mostly hidden in the trees.  

He could see some kind of big building out the front of the bus window, and what looked like several smaller buildings spread across a well maintained lawn.  Beyond them, he could see more woods and maybe a lake.  

“Either of you recognize this place?” he asked Midoriya and Shinso.  “Is it an Agency?”

“I don’t know,” Shinso admitted.  “But it looks pretty cool!  Whoever owns this place has to be awesome!”

Midoriya’s eyes widened slightly, his mouth making a small o before a grin broke out across his face.  “Oh!  So that’s who they got!”  

“You’re not going to tell us, are you?” Isamu asked.

“Nope!” Midoriya said. Isamu hadn’t seen that mischievous a look in his eyes before.  “Don’t want to spoil the surprise.”

***

Katsumi looked around as the classes and teachers disembarked.  It was a big complex for sure.  Not exactly roughing it, though the woods around the buildings might hold some surprises, and one of the buildings looked like fairly utilitarian barracks.  It all looked vaguely familiar though.  She’d never been here, at least, not that she could recall, but she was sure she’d seen it somewhere.  Had Toshi shown her pictures?  She wouldn’t have put it past him.  Despite basically having Hero-stuff as the background radiation for his life, he still ate, drank, and slept it.

There were four Heroes waiting for them.  One was a man with spikey, sandy blonde hair, wearing a black bodysuit that left his arms bare, with silver boots, shoulder pads, belt, and bracers.  With him, there was a brown-haired woman in a pink costume that looked damn close to a princess dress decorated with darker pink hearts, who was even wearing a tiara.  Them, she recognized, Ravenous and Lady Lumious.  Ravenous had briefly been one of Papa’s sidekicks.  He even looked a bit like Uncle Tetsu, though they weren’t related.

The other man was blond, tall, with a costume in dark blue, with red highlights, boots, and gloves, along with small, gold pipe-like structures on his arms.  

Ah. So that’s who they got this year.

“Oh, shit,” she heard Monoma gasp.  Katsumi resisted the urge to cackle.  He was having a bad day for surprises.

“Why so down, little cousin?” the man in red and blue, the Hero called Boost Rush, Daichi Monoma, asked. He was a tall man, towering over his cousin.    

“I am the average height for my age!” Monoma snapped back.  “You could have at least told me you were going to be here!”

“And spoil the surprise?” Boost Rush asked.  He had the same arrogant, Monoma sneer all of them seemed to master.  Katsumi had to fight the urge to laugh again.   Monoma’s misfortunes were always funny. On the other hand, he hadn’t actually bothered her in months, no since his failed confession, so she could at least make an effort not to laugh at him when he could hear.

Katsumi’s eyes fell on the last of the four, a woman with light brown hair, who wore a costume in black, green, and orange.  There was more than a passing resemblance to Dad’s costume.  Her light brown hair was done up in twintails.  She had her arms crossed and was smirking.  It was an expression very similar to the one Katsumi and her dad often wore.

Katsumi, at the front of the group of students, gave her a smirk right back.  “They must be getting pretty desperate to turn to you, Old Lady.”

The woman’s expression instantly shifted to rage.  She pointed a finger at Katsumi.  “Still got a mouth on you, don’t you, Brat?  Well, we’ve got two weeks to beat it out of you.”

“You could try,” Katsumi shot back.  “Won’t you have to go to bed too early for that though?”

“Show some respect for your elders!”

“So you admit you’re old?” By now, several of her classmates and 1-B students were staring at her in open surprise.   Some, like Sero and Kaminari, had taken several steps back and away from her.  Toshi just looked mortified, while Aizawa was burying his head in his hands.  Even Lady Luminous and Ravenous looked vaguely puzzled.

“And so it begins,” Dad growled.  “Ladies, can we wrap this up?”

“I will when she takes that back.”

Dad just sighed. “Mahoro, you and I both know that’s never going to happen.  Can we just get on with it?”

Mahoro Shimano, also known as Vanish Veil, just grinned, but gave Katsumi a look.  “This isn’t over, Brat.”

Katsumi smirked right back. “Bring it, Old Lady.”

Aizawa cleared his throat. “If we’re all done?” he asked.  He didn’t wait for an answer.  “As some of you have figured out, this facility and the surrounding wilderness is a training facility used by the Rookies, a loose configuration of Pro-Heroes and Sidekicks, many of whom attended U.A. together, and of which Water Spout and Doc Clock are also members. They’ve got a varied skillset and are also some of the best trainers in the country; Agencies frequently send their new Sidekicks to them for additional instruction.  You will listen to them, you will follow their instruction, and you will not fight with them, no matter your previous or personal relationships with them.”   He gave Katsumi and Monoma an extra-long glare.  

“Now…” Aizawa went on.

He didn’t get to finish. “U.A. Hero students… think you’re pretty high and mighty, don’t you?” a voice, a girl’s voice, broke in.  Whoever it was, they weren’t one of the Rookies. There were five of them, she realized, coming out of the building.  Katsumi instantly tensed for a fight, wishing she had the gauntlets from her costume.

The seeming leader of the group took a step forward.  She was large, and powerfully built. “We’ll show you all how weak you really are.”

[mentallyunstableunicornwrites]

Prompt 114

“Wha - Get your face out of my hair.” “I’m just trying to mask the smell of the shit floating around.”

There was a running joke, for as long as Viktor could remember, about how hockey players and male figure skaters just didn’t get along. Supposedly, hockey players saw male figure skaters as far too delicate and weak to compete in ‘real’ sports. Meanwhile, male figure skaters saw hockey players as brutish bulls with no manners. This was, of course, just a joke as far as he knew. He had always gotten along well with the hockey players that made up the Russian Olympic team. He even dated one in the past. If you asked him, Viktor would tell you that it was nothing more than a joke. Or, at least that is what he would have said before he arrived in Japan.

For a country that prided itself on their respectable nature, there were some instances where Japanese people were just plain rude to one another. Rivalries were common practice in Japan as it seemed everyone had the same goal, to the best at their craft. More than once Viktor had listened to a chef at one restaurant try to prevent him from giving his business to a rival restaurant blocks away. For the most part, the practice didn’t really bother him. On occasion, it was more of a nuisance than anything, but he didn’t really take it to heart and could overlook it most of the time. There was one group of people, however, that rubbed him the wrong way every time. Hockey players, in particular the recreation hockey team that trained out of Ice Castle. 

Before Yuuri had returned to Japan and started training at Ice Castle again, the men’s recreation hockey team practiced for three hours on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday nights. They rented out the entire rink to themselves and had been doing so for the past three and a half years. Viktor knew that the Nishigori’s were not partial to the hockey team and found them to be a rather rude and destructive bunch, but they paid good money and that was something that they couldn’t afford to let pass them by. It was, perhaps, the hockey team alone that kept Ice Castle afloat during the economic recession that hit their region. 

But the Nishigori’s were, at heart, a family of figure skaters. So, when Yuuri came back to Hasetsu they were more than happy to once again allow him access to the rink anytime he wanted provided it was not already booked out. For a while this was enough for Yuuri, after all, he had not really decided on having a competitive season after his last one ended so miserably. He mainly used the rink after closing hours, when the ice was clean and there were no wandering eyes (or in the case of the triplets, phones) to pry oh his private reintroduction to the ice. However, when Viktor blew in with the winter storm things changed, fast. 

Ice time soon was something that Yuuri was needing and Viktor gladly booked Ice Castle for them, typically a day at a time. Tuesdays and Thursdays worked for them at first. Yuuri wasn’t allowed to touch the ice to train but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t learn from watching Viktor skate himself. After long runs and grueling weight training sessions in the gym, Yuuri would spend hours at a time watching and absorbing Viktor’s technique with nary a word passed between them. 

As soon as Yuuri was ready to touch the ice, Yurio mysteriously appeared in all his angst-filled glory and ice time was needed in larger quantities. This meant stepping on a few toes, or rather skates, as Viktor appealed to the Nishigori’s for help. Viktor offered to pay double the usual rate for the hours the hockey team utilized in exchange for a Monday, Wednesday, Friday schedule. It took a lot of convincing, but Viktor secured their much-needed ice time and the hockey team begrudgingly moved their practices to Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday morning, 

Their first Wednesday practice was marred, however, by every locker in the locker room being covered in crusted over shaving foam. A gift from the hockey team for the new arrangement. Viktor prided himself on his ability to remain level headed in most situations. This, however, was not one of those situations. His anger seemed to amplify when he was in direct contact with Yurio who allowed a string of Russian expletives flow freely like a sailor who hadn’t seen land or a woman in months. Yuuri on the other hand just went to the cleaning closet, collected a bucket of water and a rag, and began cleaning the lockers. 

Friday morning the trio arrived early just in case there were any other nasty surprises awaiting them in the locker room. Luckily, there was nothing more than the overwhelming stench of man sweat that typically followed one of the hockey team’s practices. They thought that they had got away scot-free until they went to hit the ice and found it to be unfinished with large divots carved out in random places. This time it was Yuuri who was angered by what the hockey team would later call a ' harmless prank’. 

Yuuri grabbed Viktor’s hand and pulled him along to the office where they waited for Yuuko to show up. Yuuri relayed what had happened to her in a calm manner but made it very clear that something needed to be done. Upon seeing the chaos of the rink herself Yuuko agreed and called for a meeting between the skaters and the leaders of the hockey team later that night. 

Viktor, Yuuri, And Yurio took their time patching the ice carefully, ensuring they packed each divot well with ice shavings before giving it a cleaning with the Zamboni. Yuuri was silent through the process but Viktor could feel the anger radiating off of him in waves. It seemed like he took it personally.

Later that night while they awaited the representative from the hockey team, Viktor lounged against the wall along the back of the office while Yuuri stood a few paces in front of him, eyes glued to the security footage that was paused on the small TV in the corner. Yuuko sat behind her desk, a small stack of papers in front of her, occasionally thumbing through them to ensure everything she needed was there. The knock on the door seemed to jar Yuuri out of his thinking as the door swung open and admitted a large muscular man who was dressed as a repair technician. Viktor assumed he must have come directly from work.

“I assume you know why I asked you to come in tonight?” Yuuko asked Eiji Shimoto, the captain of the hockey team.

“Sorry to say that I don’t really. You said that you wanted to review our unofficial contract with the rink.” He sounded genuine, it was a good act, but the lie angered Viktor. 

He stepped forward until his chest was practically resting against Yuuri’s back and then proceeded to bury his face in Yuuri’s hair managing to both startle and completely fluster the man in the process. 

“Wah-! Get your face out of my hair!” Yuuri yelped in a panic as he pulled away and turned to look at Viktor with a bright red face. 

“I’m just trying to mask the smell of the shit floating around,” Viktor said innocently as he pegged Shimoto with a glare. Shimoto did his best to look confused but his face suddenly fell as Yuuko turned on the television and played the security footage for everyone to see. The entire hockey team was seen purposefully chipping away at the ice with the tips of their skates. Shimoto at least had enough decency to look at the floor in shame after he realized that he had been caught. 

“You are lucky that Yuuri came to me and not my husband with this kind of information otherwise I am sure that there would be worse consequences then your team not being allowed to practice here any longer.” Yuuko may have been a small woman but she spoke with such authority that Shimoto said nothing in response. 

“What you did was reckless.” Yuuri followed up, his voice was as sharpened with the anger that he held back all day. “The three of us that booked this ice time are international champions for our respective countries. Viktor here is an Olympic gold medalist. This is how we make our living.” He took a step closer to Shimoto who seemed to have shrunk in the process of the verbal lashing.

“You could have ended someone’s career. All it would have taken is one of us not noticing a single gouged piece of ice while we were patching up your mess and hitting it wrong. We don’t hide behind pads that protect us when we fall. When we fall, we don’t tend to do it from a low height because unlike hockey players, we are taught how to fly high above the ice.” He took another step forward and gestured at Shimoto’s outfit.

“Unlike you, we don’t have a day job to fall back on should we be injured in a way that removes us from the ice. What gives you the right to toy with the safety and quite possibly the lives of other people. If you were so opposed to the arrangement, you should have said something instead of acting like toddlers. What kind of adult puts shaving cream all over the locker room because they are upset with an arrangement they agreed to. What kind of human destroys a person’s property because they didn’t like being told that they had to be flexible.” He took one more step forward until he was face to face with Shimoto and then pretended to smell the air. 

“Let’s go Viktor, I trust Yuuko can hand the rest of this and I am starting to smell that shit you were talking about earlier.” He abruptly spun on his heels and left the room. All the dazed Viktor could do was follow him as he was told to. 

They walked out to the front of Ice Castle before Yuuri slowed his pace and stopped. It was only then that Viktor noticed he was shaking with the anger that boiled inside him. Viktor didn’t think twice before he wrapped his arms around Yuuri, the Japanese man tensing momentarily in his hold before finally relaxing and allowing himself to be held. 

“You were brilliant,” Viktor whispered. 

“I was angry.” Yuuri quietly countered, “All I could think about the whole day was what would happen if we missed one of the divots. What if-” He sighed in frustration trying to get the words to form in his mouth.

“What if you had hit one of the divots and gotten hurt.” He finally whispered.

“Oh, Yuuri, my sweet Yuuri,” Viktor whispered back and held him tighter. They stood there for a long moment saying nothing beyond that. A part of Viktor didn’t want this moment to end, it was the first time that Yuuri had allowed him physical contact since the banquet at the Grand Prix. But the logical side of him knew that it was getting late and after a hard day of training Yuuri was more than likely running on fumes. 

“Come now,” He said gently stepping back, “Let’s go home” 

[yelenasdog]

rockstar (peter parker x gn reader)

genre: fluff with a lil angst 

summary: peter always comes to the reader when he’s hurt, but reader wonders if it could mean something more.

words: 1465 ( more or less LMAO)

warnings: light cursing, peter being hurt, some kissing? idk if that counts sorry lol.

a/n: hello! so this is inspired by the song Lover of Mine by 5 Seconds of Summer so i strongly reccomend listening to it by reading! if u prefer to read it on wattpad from my peter parker imagines book, click here !

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knock knock!

I was abrubtly woken from my peaceful sleep by the loud sounds coming from my window.

"What the hell," I muttered out as I groggily checked the current time. 3:47 am. I reluctantly made my way over, having a feeling it was a certain webslinger. I peeled open the entrance to see Peter, still in his spidey suit, without the mask may I add. I grabbed onto his broad shoulders, pulling him through the opening, almost slipping on the hard floor due to my fuzzy socks.

"Pete, what are you doing, people could see you without the mask." I heard his feet as he quietly padded over to sit on my soft comforter with an obvious limp.

I went over to my lamp and switched it on, a warm glow being strewn across the room by it. As Peter sat on my bed, I turned to meet him, gasping at what had been brought to my attention by the light. I rushed over to the boy, pressing the spider in the center of his suit, causing it to slide off and pool at his feet.

Peter grimaced as I soflty dragged my fingers against his bruised and battered skin from where I sat on the floor next to my bed.

"What happened to you, Pete?" I spoke, looking up at him, my facial expression laced with concern.

"Well," he began as he tried to sit up, groaning in the process, "just got hit a little harder than usual, that's all. It's no biggie, really."

I sighed, placing a tender hand on his from where I sat on the floor in a crouching position. I stood up, my hand staying in the same position.

"It kinda looks like a biggie, bud." One of my hands moved to run itself through his messy brown locks as I looked him up and down once more, scanning for any underlying injuries I might have missed at first look.

He flashed me a tired smile which I returned.

"I'm gonna go grab some stuff to patch you up, k?" This time I gave him a small smile, and he was the one who returned it gratefully.

"Thank you y/n." I squeezed his now bare hand, standing and turning to go.

"It's no problem, Pete, honestly." 

As I tried to leave, he lightly tugged me back by my wrist, catching me by surpise. My breath caught in my throat at the action.

"Really, y/n, I don't know what I would do without you."

I smiled at him once more, "Same to you, BugBoy"

He released my hand, allowing me to go get his supplies. As I gathered what I needed from the cabinet, my head was clouded with thoughts of the boy. The same thoughts that had been clouding my head since the day I had met him.

We had first met at midtown through decathlon, and grew quite close. I was entranced by the boy and everything about him, from his starwars obsession to the way he would rant about different scientific theories. It made my heart swell for reasons I would like to think I couldn't understand. He would confine in me with any problems he was going through, such as Uncle Ben passing, or even some of his biggest secrets, Spider-Man being one of them.

He hadn't meant for me to find out. Not in the way I did, at least.

It had been after a long day at school, when Ned had gone to hang out with Peter and build the lego deathstar, and I tagged along to surprise him, as I had been gone on a trip for quite some time and wanted to see him. Turns out I was the one in for a surprise, because I found out peter was Spider-Man that same day when he walked in on the ceiling through his window. It was a bit of a shock to say the least.

My feelings had only grown for the boy since that point, which also left me with uncalled for emotions that I had a difficult time dealing with. Especially when Peter would do this every time he would get hurt. This whole routine of coming to me at ungodly hours of the night, and me patching him up every time without question. It was sad to say the least. 

The way my heart would ache for the boy in red, so much so that I would sacrifice so much for his happiness, whatever form that would take. 

I tried to deny the feelings that would arise when I was around him, and God, was it difficult. I looked myself in the mirror, taking a deep breath. I walked back out to where Peter was waiting for me, reaching out and placing all the supplies on my mahogony side table.

"I know you hate hearing this, but we might have to do stitches, Pete."

He groaned, looking up to my poster covered ceiling as if one of the singers on the paper would somehow deny the fact he needed the medical attention.

He looked back at me, giving me puppy dog eyes.

"Come on, Rockstar? Really?"

My heart swelled at the nickname he had gifted me after finding out about my love for music, one of the many things we bonded over. I was tempted to give in, but quickly snapped out of it.

"Nice try, Peter, but this is for your own good, so lets just get it over with, yeah?"

His head dropped and he nodded, looking down to his feet.

"Head up, bub, I need to be able to see what I'm doing and get this done before it starts to scab." I could have sworn Peter's pupils dialated and he seemed a little off at the pet name, but yet again, it was nearly 4 am, so I very well could have been imagining things, and probably was.

As I started to run the needle through the forming scar, he let out a whimper, gripping my shoulder in pain as his eyes screwed shut. He did this often, grabbing me “as hard as he could” whenever he was hurting. 

It was an idea I had introduced to him to deal with any especially bad injuries, our little way of dealing with the pain. I knew it might cause me some minor damage, as he would never hurt me. I assured Peter every time that I felt okay, but something nagged at me telling me he felt guilty, and that he wasn't gripping as hard as he could.

As I went through what I imagined was an especially painful part, he cursed loudly under his breath.

"Fuck!"

I stopped what I was doing momentarily to check on him after the short outburst, unusual for his kind and calm demeanor.

"Are you okay, Peter?"

He moved his large hands to tightly grip his hair, moving down to his neck, back and forth.

"No, y/n! I'm not okay. I'm hurting, I'm hurting so bad, y/n/n" His volume increased and decreased again, silent tears falling down his face.

I had dropped the needle that I had been using, shocked by his volume. I picked it back up again, resuming my task with conceringly shaky hands.

"I can try to be softer if it would help, Pete." My voice was gentle as I spoke, in a feeble attempt to not upset him further. 

He looked at me and to his shoes as he began to talk, his voice low I could barely hear him.

"No, y/n, it's not you, you're doing amazing, it's just," he didn't finish his sentence, he rather just trailed off.

I blew out a deep breath, my eyes never leaving the work in front of me.

"What is it, Peter?"

I tied the knot on the stiches, cutting the thread and disposing of the needle in the small biohazard waste kit froom the first aid box.

I stood up directly in front of him to where I was slightly higher up than him. I reached a hand forward, wiping away a stray tear. He took my wrists in his hands, taking me off guard.

"Actually, y/n, I lied." I tensed, concerned about what he was going to say.

"It is you. It's always been you."

Confusion consumed me as I shook my head, and I wondered if it was just my tired state that had caused the emotions.

"Peter, what do you mean you're not making any sens-"

Before I could finish my sentence, he leaned forward encapsulating our lips in a sweet and long awaited kiss. He let go of my wrists, moving his own hands, one to rest around my waist protectivley, the other on the back of my neck under my hair. I moved one of mine to lazily drape over his left shoulder, the other playing with the curls on the nape of his neck. The kiss lasted a long while, but not long enough.

Our hands went to the sides of each others faces when we parted, and his own strong hands started running small circles on my jaw. As we struggled to catch our breaths, he began to speak, the boyish smile I loved so much covering his face.

"My feelings for you are there, Y/n, always have been, and they always will be. I want you to take all of me, Rockstar."

I giggled at the wording of his statement, appreciating it nonetheless. He pressed our foreheads together, a mutal content taking over us.

"Although that was extremely cheesy, I’ll allow it this once. You have no idea how long I've wanted you to say that, BugBoy."

·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·。·

idk how i feel about this tbh, kinda love it kinda hate it. stay funky! xx hj

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

S.T. REWRITE - S2:E4; Chapter Four, Will the Wise - [Pt. 4 - FINAL PART]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

An ailing Will opens up to Joyce --  with disturbing results. While Hopper digs for the truth, Eleven unearths a surprising discovery. A conflicted Y/n reconciles with Mike amidst the rising panic.

Warnings: Abusive behavior. Racism. Animal death

||3rd Person POV||

Will continued to draw, never faltering. And his movements never slowed.

Several sheets of paper, with similar purple and blue features.

The second he was done, he would swiftly swipe the drawing behind him and it would land on the floor like the others. Not unlike a printer would.

Joyce grabbed a handful and returned through to the living room, where Hop sat, looking at a handful of Will's drawings himself.

"This is more of the same," she said, joining him on the couch.

"Oh, it's nothing. It's just scribbles."

The pages they held before them, as well as the ones still being made in Will's room usually featured a black page with some variant of purple-blue sections. Ranging from corner to corner, corner to side, bottom to side, top to corner and so forth. Some of them were just pure purple and blue.

"Wait," Joyce had caught sight of the drawing Hopper was currently looking at. "Wait."

"What? What?"

"Wait. These black lines, see?"

She held up one of the several drawings she possessed up to Hopper.

Hopper was still confused.

"What?"

The drawing she held matched perfectly with the one in his hands.

"They connect. They connect!"

×××

Hopper had now pushed aside all the furniture in the living room, opening up space for the drawings.

They grabbed more piles and scattered the drawing all over the floor, matching piece after piece.

Finally, the duo stood, marveling at the large intricate design the pictures had made. They were sprawled out all over the room, so much so in fact that they twisted and curled and began creeping up the walls.

"Does this mean anything to you?" Hopper asked.

Joyce scoffed, gesturing to the work before them. "No."

"I mean, is it some kind of maze or a road?" She wondered.

They began wandering around the room, careful as to not step on the drawings.

"I-I mean, it's sort of forking and branching like... like lightning." She gestured to the many twists and turns below her feet.

"You think it's that storm?" He asked, referring to the drawing.

"No, the storm he drew was completely different. He used red." She said, certain about her son's artistic patterns. "And this is all blue and it has some sort of weird dirt color. I mean, maybe it's roots."

"'Cause remember," she continued, lost in thought. "he was saying it was spreading and--"

"killing." He finished. "he said they were killing."

Hopper felt his chest sink at the words. Familiarity tugging at his mind. He hoped he was wrong. But he was almost certain he wasn't.

"Vines." Joyce looked to Hopper just as he retreated to the front door, gathering his things. "He's drawing vines."

×××

The bell rang harshly, signaling the end of the school day. Just as he had hoped, Lucas found Max at her locker.

"Hey, Max. Have you seen Dustin? We're supposed to meet after class."

Max slammed her locker door and stomped away.

Lucas frowned and called after her. He chased her trailed after her, and it wasn't until they reached the steps outside the school that she answered.

"Hey, Max! Hey, where are you going? Come on! We've gotta go look for Dart."

"Yeah, good luck with that." She spits, not looking back.

Max made it to the parking lot when Lucas finally caught back up to her.

"What is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?" She scoffed. "What's wrong with you?"

She brushed a stray piece of hair from her eyes angrily as she walked.

"I don't understand!"

Max whirled around on her heels, looking at Lucas for the first time in the conversation.

"No! I don't understand!" She shouted, and Lucas jumped back slightly. "You guys act like you want me to be your friend but then you just treat me like garbage!"

"That's not true!" He said defensively.

She scoffed and nodded.

"Actually, you're right," she smiled, and Lucas briefly relaxed.

Her face quickly hardened once more.

"Y/n hasn't. She's the only one of you jerks that have actually been nice to me. The only one who's making an effort to get me in the party. But, ya know what? Tell her I said thanks but she doesn't have to try anymore. I don't want to be in your stupid party anyway."

Lucas tried to find words but Max stopped him before he cod say anything.

"All you guys do is lock yourselves in the AV room keeping secrets like we're in second grade or something. You know, I thought you actually wanted me in your party."

"I do. But it's..."

"But what?"

He sighed, at a loss for words.

"There... there are just things. Things we can't tell you, all right? For your own safety."

"My own safety?" She repeated, fuming.

"Yes!"

"Because I'm a girl?"

"What? No! Why would you think that? Y/n's in the party."

"Yeah, do you keep secrets from her too? Or El?" She asked, her voice lowered but was still hostile.

Lucas stiffened.

"How do you know about El?"

"Did you?" She pressed.

"That was different. Trust me. Okay? That was just... different."

"Okay. You know what? Forget it. Have a nice life."

Max spun around and stomped away, ignoring his cries if protest.

"You still stink by the way!"

Lucas's heart sank as he watched Max walk away. He frowned and hesitantly brought his sleeve to his nose.

He recoiled at the stench.

"Oh, shit!"

Max set down her skateboard and stepped on. Besides one little push, she let gravity do its work and she steadily rolled down across the parking lot towards her stepbrothers car.

Unbeknownst to her, he had watched the whole exchange.

When she approached the car she hopped off her skateboard and tucked it back under her arm. Billy pushed off from where he was leaning against the hood and he stormed around to the driver's side door.

"That kid you were talking to, who is he?"

"He's no one."

"No one?"

"This kid from class." She replied impatiently.

She got in the passenger side but Billy lingered, glaring at Lucas as he looked in their direction in curiosity.

Billy narrowed his eyes and got in the front seat, slamming the door behind him.

He placed a cigarette between his lips and he lit it. Staring ahead, he took a puff and held it out the window as he rested his arm.

"Why was he talking to you?" He asked lowly.

"It was just about a stupid class assignment." She muttered.

His jaw clenched and he fidgeted with the cigarette at the end of his fingertips.

"Then why are you so upset?"

"I'm not!"

"He causing you trouble?"

"Why do you care?" She snapped, looking at him.

"Because, Max, you're a piece of shit, but we're family now whether we like it or not meaning I'm stuck looking after you."

She rolled her eyes and threw her arms up in a shrug.

"What would I ever do without- Hey!"

Billy grabbed her wrist tightly in his hand, his knuckles turning white. She froze in fear and he leaned in, teeth gritted.

"This is serious shit, okay? I'm older than you. And something you learn, is that there are a certain type of people in this world that you stay away from, and that kid, Max..." he tightened his grip on her wrist and tugged on it. "That kid is one of them."

Max tried to pull her arm back but he gave it a shake, his eyes burning holes in hers.

"You stay away from him, you hear me?" He growled. "Stay. Away."

He roughly shoved her arm away and returned to his cigarette, and started the engine.

Max turned to the window in an attempt to hide her tears and quivering lip.

×××

The tires of the chief's car blew sent dirt and dust flying in his tracks. The car bounced as he crossed the end of the dirt road and onto the bumpy field on the pumpkin patch.

He drove to the center of the pumpkin patch wasteland and the car swerved to an urgent stop. Hopper got out of the car and grabbed the shovel he kept in the truck bed and closed the trunk.

He walked through the fields, shovel over his shoulder to the very center of the field. He stopped when he reached the strongest patch of rot and decay, the patch where the most flies occupied.

Where everything had been killed.

Shovel in hand, he threw it into the ground and began his excavation.

×××

El started at the files before her. Familiarity tugged at the back of her mind at the words 'missing experiment'

Curious she opened it.

El frowned as she read, understanding only bits and pieces.

Before her was a collection of papers stapled together that were typed, like it belonged in the folder. On top of that were scraps of paper, one of them was a photocopy of an old news article, a small section of it highlighted, and then several handwritten notes in red ink. It looked like Hopper's handwriting, El thought. There were scribbles of red ink on several pieces of paper, off to the side with several footnotes in different articles

The first thing she examined was a piece of paper from Hopper's notepad, the one, she recognized from the Don't Be Stupid Rules. It was a messy jumble of words like he was trying to get them down on paper before he forgot. They were scribbled quickly and were barely legible.

"Another volunteer pregnant. Either escaped with kid, or escaped and gave birth?? Woman killed, daughter lived (presumably) Somewhere in Hawkins???"

El frowned, reading further, intrigued.

"Hiding?" The word was scratched out with a single line, next to the words, "she wouldn't remember."

Below that was a small bullet point list of the kid's possible traits.

"13/14 y/o female

Orphan?

Adopted?

Living on the streets?"

El's mind snagged on the familiar word, 'adopted'. She remembered when she first heard it, Mike's voice echoed in her mind.

《●●●》

"...It's funny actually, [Y/N] is from Hawkins. Or at least that's where they found her."

"...Dustin was so young he doesn't remember any of it, but I think him and his mom were visiting family here and they just... found her, I think?"

《●●●》

El's' first initial reaction was to dismiss the thought, it couldn't be Y/n. But the doubt vanished almost as soon as it came. Memories of her week with Y/n came flooding back to her mind. Granted, she often dwelled on this week, but this time was different. She looked at moments in a whole new light, and it only made sense that it could be Y/n.

《●●●》

"Oh, he was such a great student. Oh, he's going to leave a hole in the community." A boy farther down the bleachers mocked, beginning to fake sob.

Y/n began shaking, El noticed, facing the boy who spoke, visibly furious. El's eyes fell to Y/n's hands. They were gripping the bench she sat on and El noticed the hot shade of pink her friend's hands were turning.

"[Y/N]!" She heard Lucas whisper, making Y/n look at him.

"What?!" She asked.

El watched curiously as Y/n's eyes fell to her own hands and seemed shocked at their hue. Y/n's mood seemed to change drastically El noted, and then she realized Y/n was looking back at her, slightly panicked and confused. El's eyes fell to Y/n's hands one last time, knowing something peculiar happened that couldn't be easily explained.

It almost reminded her of when she used her powers for the first time...

No. It couldn't be.

She shook her head ever so slightly and remembered the word Y/n had taught her. Looking at the boy that upset Y/n, she repeated it back to her.

"Mouth breather."

Much to El's excitement, Y/n chuckled slightly and smiled at El, seeming to feel slightly better.

"Yeah." Y/n nodded. "Yeah, mouth breather."

《●●●》

El thought about that moment a lot. Y/n had always shown that she cared about her, and was truly the first real friend she ever had, besides Mike of course. But she always felt close to Y/n in a different way. A way she couldn't really explain. And she felt truly happy and proud to be the one to make her friend feel better in that moment.

It was no big feat, but to El, it meant a lot.

The only thing that came to mind to explain how she saw Y/n, was another word she had learned from Mike.

Sister.

But she supposed that's why she often overlooked the odd moment with the bench and her red hands.

Then, of course, there was that moment at the school, minutes before she said her goodbye.

It was very hazy though, and she could only remember bits and pieces. After all, she was fighting consciousness when it happened.

El never really understood how she was rescued from Papa that night.

But she did remember being knocked back slightly. And how all the bad men had been standing around her, holding her friends hostage, and then the next thing she knew everyone was on the ground. And a sense of warmth in between. She had still been awfully cold from the bath, her clothes were still slightly damp, but in between consciousness she felt a small and brief burst of warmth. She remembered thinking it felt nice on the still damp and cold dress she wore.

El realized she never really stopped to think about how they escaped. Especially when she hadn't done anything, that she could recall of course, besides getting rid of the woman that killed the nice man who fed her. And the guards with her.

Then Papa showed up. And she called out to Mike. And then the warmth.

As El dwelled on the memory more, she remembered something she didn't before. Something that was said after the warmth.

"'Surprise'"  El repeated her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n. It must have been. Y/n must be the missing experiment, she realized.

It only made sense.

She remembered how tired Y/n had been after they escaped Papa. She must drain easily like she does.

And she must have done something when they got briefly separated when they were all fleeing from the vans. That would explain why Y/n passed out.

But had known? She must not have, El thought, because she was almost certain that Y/n would have told her.

El realized she had been rereading the same sentence over and over again this whole time, as she considered these things.

Shaking her head slightly, she focused all her attention on the words once more, trying to make sense of what they meant.

It was a single sentence at the bottom of the same notepaper, in quotation marks. It was a quote.

"This baby was supposed to have some sorta,"

The words she read next, made her shiver. She couldn't quite say why, but she knew it was important.

Familiar.

"untapped potential for the greater good"

Maybe it had been one of the many things Papa and said to her to get her to work harder.

How she could be just what he was missing.

No, no that wasn't it. How she was what he had to work with.

'She would be enough.'

'They didn't need the other one.'

'Eleven had her potential.'

El hadn't realized her eyes were watering until she noticed she could barely make out the words anymore. Her vision was blurring.

Was Y/n the one Papa had been whispering about all this time when he thought she couldn't hear?

She sighed heavily, setting down the file folder down in her lap.

El looked around the room, steadying her breathing. Her eyes fell on a pinkish-red folder than sat in the box.

She set the missing experiment files down next to her, and picked up the new folder.

El realized her knees were aching so she rose to her feet, taking a seat on the couch.

"Ives. Terry." She read aloud.

She recognized the name from the small mention in the other folder. Curious, she opened it.

Not unlike the other folder, it was an organized mess of articles and files. The first one she read was in big letters and it caught her eye first.

"INDIANA WOMAN  SUES D.O.A. CLAIMS CHILD WAS STOLEN"

She looked to the picture below it, and her heart ached thumped. She had no memory of ever seeing this woman but for some reason she felt like she knew her.

She turned the pages over, and found another article.

"DAUGHTER JANE TAKEN WHEN SHE WAS A BABY, IVES CLAIMS."

"Jane," she whispered.

El noticed a small handful of things, too short to be pinned in like the others, and was paper clipped to the side.

"CHILD ABDUCTIONS AGAINST HAWKINS LAB THROWN OUT."

and

"TERRY IVES SUING - 'They Took My Daughter' By Benjamin Buck"

A specific passage from this article had been highlighted and underlined more than once, like Hopper had looked over it several times.

"Ms. Ives suit seeks unspecified damages against Dr. Brenner and his facility, alleging physical abuse, sleep deprivation, malnourishment, and multiple allegations of kidnapping both attempted and successful..."

Next to it was another note from Hopper.

A question of his had been crossed out, and statement was written beside it, as if he answered it.

"Attempted and successful? 'Attempted' must be missing experiment."

El was about to flip the page when she noticed a small corner peeking out from under those two articles. Placing one hand on the files, she grabbed the corner with the other to find a photo.

It was a photo outside Hawkins Lab, of Terry and next to her was,

"Papa," she whispered in slight fear.

Eli suspected who the woman was, but something in her needed to know for sure.

She could contact her.

No, the TV was still broken. But the radio wasn't, El realized.

With picture still firmly in her hand, El grabbed the radio from the bookshelf  and her blindfold before returning to her spot near the files.

She knelt down on the floor where she left the missing experiment folder and turned on the radio, switching through all the channels until she finally heard the static she was hoping to find. El placed the radio on the floor next to her and secured the blindfold over her eyes. Holding the photo tight in her hands and bringing it up to her heart she searched.

She was back in the familiar void. She saw a woman in a rocking chair, facing away from her. El couldn't see her face but it looked like the woman from the photo.

She was muttering something El couldn't quite decipher until she walked closer.

"Three to the right. Four to the left."

El had reached the woman she believed to be her mother, her heart pounding. She walked around the chair to see the same woman, but older, aged by time and trauma.

Her eyes were closed, but she was still mumbling passionately as she rocked slightly back and forth in the chair.

"Rainbow. Three to the right. Four to the left."

El was standing in front of her now, watching her with worry and confusion.

"Rainbow. Three to the right. Four to the left. Four-fifty..."

Her eyes ripped open and she looked at El lovingly.

"Jane,"

It was her. All the doubts she bad washed away and she looked at her mother.

"Mama?"

She stepped forward, leaning down ever so slightly. She extended her hand out to her mother, her mother's finger twitching slightly as if she were trying to reach out to her daughter.

El placed her palm on her mother's hand, having given her nothing more than a loving squeeze when suddenly her mother disappeared under her very fingertips.

El breathing picked up and she looked around frantically, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Mama!"

She grasped feverishly thought the air, where her mother once was, watching the dying smoke of her image escape from her grasp.

"Mama?" She wailed.

She dropped to her knees in defeat, sobs wracking her body. Back in the living room of the cabin, El cried out still clutching the photograph.

"Mama! Mama!" El shrieked, pain enveloping her heart.

She ripped the blindfold off her eyes and she felt her upper lip grow wet from the blood mixing in with her snot, tears staining her cheeks.

"Mama..." she sobbed as if by some miracle her mother would hear her cries and come for her, comfort her.

She was told her mother was gone. Hopper had told her that. And there her mother was, alive, somewhere out there.

And just like that, she was gone again.

El collapsed in on herself, holding her own head in her hands as she wept.

||Reader's POV||

The trip to Will's felt like hours, but eventually, we rounded the corner and found ourselves on Will's lawn. Mike and I ditched out bikes and ran up the porch steps. Both of us were still panting from our ride over here, we went as fast as we could.

I knocked on the door quietly but urgently, and waited. That was until, Mike sighed growing impatient and pounded on the door a little harder.

"Hello?" He called.

"Will? Mrs. Byers?" I added.

I heard muffled footsteps and then the deadbolt unlocking.

Mrs. Byers peeked her head out, reluctant to show any more than her own frame.

"Hey,"

"Hey, Y/n, hi Mike" She eased.

"Mrs. Byers, we don't mean to intrude but is Will here? We were hoping to ask to him, see if he's okay."

She looked over her shoulder, growing antsy.

"You know what? Now is not really a good time,"

Mike beat me to it.

"Is he okay?"

She sighed, looking over her shoulder briefly once more, and stepped out onto the porch with us. She closed the door behind her.

"Yeah. You know, he's... he's just not feeling real well."

She kept walking, putting a gentle hand on either one of us, politely ushering us away.

"He's lying down, so I'll tell him you two stopped by, okay?"

She gave us a polite smile and retreated to the door.

I didn't bother to stop myself from what I said next.

"We know about the shadow monster."

She turned to look at me, worry and recognition flashed across her face.

"Will saw him, didn't he?"

||3rd Person POV||

"Mew-Mew! Where are you? Mew-Mew!"

Mrs. Henderson poured out her cat's dinner in the usual bowl, just as her son walked in the front door.

"Hey, Dusty!

"Hi, hey. Hey, mom." Dustin spoke quickly, his movements just as quick.

He was anxious to get to his room and check on Dart.

Mrs. Henderson frowned and straightened up.

"Everything okay, Dusty? Where's your sister?"

"Oh, uh, yeah she's hanging out with Mike and Will. Everything's fine" He said quickly.

He slipped past his mother and into his room. He closed the door and locked it behind him, making his way to the terrarium and shedding his hat and backpack on the bed.

"Dart, I've gotta talk to you, buddy. It's about my friend, Will. I think-"

He ripped off the pink sheet and his stomach dropped.

The glass was broken and slime was everywhere. It was a pale olive green and it dripped from the remaining shards of glass and all over the sand.

And exactly where Dustin had left him, was what looked like a thick, slimy sheen of green film.

Hesitantly, Dustin picked it up to examine it, and he cringed in disgust.

"What the hell?" He whispered, horrified.

Dart had shed his skin.

Dustin jumped in fright and whipped around when he heard a deeper but familiar screech come from the opposite end of his room. Behind his chair.

"Dart?" He said.

Dustin heard a horrible squelching noise, followed by grunting.

His heart pounded loudly in his chest and slowly he crept forward slowly.

His eyes fell to his rug and he noticed a trail of shredded pieces of skin. These pieces were much darker, almost black, and they looked less smooth.

Dustin still heard grunting and growling from behind his chair and he gulped as the trail of skin turned into streaks of blood. It was stained into his carpet and up his chair.

He heard a sickening crunch as he approached the corner, what he found behind the bloodied chair made him gasp in horror.

A dark green slimy creature on four legs hungrily and viciously attacking the lifeless and bloodied body of Mews.

Dart looked up from his meal and faced a horrified Dustin, his long slimy tail flicking back and forth. He roared, causing his head to open up, hundreds of bloodied teeth showing as any other Demogorgon would.

×××

Dusk had fallen over Hawkins, and Hopper panted heavily as he dug. He had been digging all day and it was growing harder to see. The horizon was now a soft lilac bleeding into a darker shade of blue.

His limbs ached but he never yielded, striking the shovel in the dirt for the thousandth time. He had dug a miniature crater that he now stood in, the dirt and untouched ground around him reaching the top of his hat.

Dirt flew over his shoulder and landed in the many mini hills of dirt that had formed around the edge of the crater.

Panting, he threw his shovel into the first once more, and just as he was about to give in to the doubt that he dug in the wrong place, he felt the shovel slow and heard an odd squelch.

His hopes rising, he swallowed his exhaustion as best as he could and dug faster. He held the shovel in the air, before heaving it into the ground with a forceful grunt.

He felt the shovel break the oddly thick wall and pulled the shovel back up with all his strength. He heard the substance rip and tear as it broke and it was soon followed by a sharp hiss as air escaped from the opening. A hiss reminding him of a hiss of compressed air leaving a can of beer.

A small hole formed as dirt filtered through the hole he had created.

He brought the shovel up once more and slammed into the ground. He heard it bubble as he prodded the ground. He cringed at the smell that wafted into his face and chunks of the ground came up with the shovel.

Hopper paused and looked on, mystified and concerned.

He didn't know what he would find below his feet and the thought scared him now. Nevertheless, he dug a hole big enough to fit through and he lowered himself into the ground.

He planted his feet on the ground and caught his breath. Flashlight in hand he looked at his surroundings. He was in a dark tunnel and familiar flakes of dead earth floating in the air.

"Oh, Jesus,"

It was the same purple-blue tunnels from Will's drawings.

Tunnels from the Upside Down.

+++

Tag List: @dickkwad @aimee-lucass @iblesstherainsdown-in-africa @miscellaneoustoasts @happyandlonely @missmulti @youpi-chan @peeperparkour @ba-responds @bibliophilesquared

DM me if you want to be added!

[all1e23]

Swallow [Pt.3]

Chapter: Scorched Hearts

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Old feelings can burn you no matter how deep they are buried. 

Warnings:  Possessive Bucky. Protective Clint. Protective Steve. Angst. Bucky being soft and a little bit of a jerk. He’s a jerk, but a soft jerk.  

A/N:   The long awaited chapter! Sorry, this took so long, but it’s finally here. Not a whole lot of happiness in this chapter, but I hope you still like! Send me love??? 

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam though! Thanks!*

Last night had not gone as anyone had hoped it would. 

Clint assumed getting you and Bucky in the same room would have led to some type of resolution, some sort of admission of love or hate. At this point he would take either, he was so tired of seeing you hurt. After you spent the night avoiding Bucky and then bolted out the front door without so much as a goodbye, Clint realized his usual ‘meddling brother’ antics weren’t going to work.

It wasn’t just Clint that was disappointed with how the night played out. Bucky had been confident it would only take seeing each other once to get the two of you on the road to recovery. That the pull between the two of you was still as strong as ever and you wouldn’t need more than one night to realize all the mistakes you both made. He would apologize and everything would right as rain.

Just like always.

This time was different though, and it wasn’t going to be like before.

Before you showed up that night, Natasha had tried to warn him it wouldn’t be that simple. Not with everything the two of you went through and not after the way you ran, determined to get as far away from him as you could. There wasn’t going to be an easy fix this time around. It wasn’t as if you fought over some run he had to go on or missing a date because of club business. If he wanted you back, it would take more than honeyed whispers in your ear.

Knowing all of that, a part of him still hoped when you finally laid eyes on him again, there would have been some indication that you loved him the way he loved you. All he saw was your naked wrist and all the pain you were trying so desperately to hide from him. You’ve never had to hide from him before, and he didn’t want you to start now.

The only person who knew exactly how last night was going to play out, was you. You knew your night was going to end in whiskey and tears the second you laid eyes on him. The headache and nausea you were feeling this morning were a result of not listening to your gut and staying as far away from the club and Bucky Barnes as you could.

Clint eyed you, humor dancing in his baby blues and a soft chuckle slipping from his lips as you stumbled out of your bedroom towards the coffee pot. You glared at him as you poured yourself a cup and attempted to smooth your hair down with your free hand. 

“Shut up, or I will disown you, brother.”

The loud rumble of a bike grew louder and came to a stop, from the sounds of it they stopped in your driveway. You quirked a brow at your brother who gave you a tentative smile as he set his own coffee cup down.

“I think this one’s for you.” He quipped.

“Me?” You asked. “What do you mean for me?”

“I don’t know, sis.” He replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe something to do with drinking and driving, something like that might piss some people off.” He was still upset about last night, and you were guessing whoever was at the door was too.

You narrowed your eyes at him as a heavy-handed fist rapped against the front door. Clint walked towards the front door, and your eyes fell to your wrist, your tattoo was out in the open this morning, you quickly tugged the sleeves of Clint’s hoodie down and crossed your arms over your chest, grimacing at the state of you. Black leggings and an old Barnes Mechanics hoodie. That will make him regret leaving you. You had set your cup down on the counter and looked up right as Bucky stepped into the house and your heart stuttered just from the sight of him.

Stupid heart.

There were a few seconds of shared whispered between the two men and Bucky even chuckled at something Clint said, but you knew it was forced. You knew him better than anyone. Maybe even better than Steve.

Some parts of you are only meant to be seen by the other half of your heart.

His eyes landed you, and Bucky patted Clint’s shoulder on the blonds' way onto the porch. He stepped around Clint and heading straight towards you as he pulled his gloves off. Bucky always looked good but the way his black jeans were hanging low on his hips, his leather zipped tight around his chest. It was making your body tremble with want, you leaned back against the counter kitchen counter to keep yourself steady.

By the look in his eyes, Bucky wasn’t there because he was happy to see you -- this wouldn’t be a friendly visit.

“To what do I owe the honor of your presence this early morning, vice president?” The venom lacing your words would have cut him, deeply, but he was too pissed to be stung by your callous words. The second he saw you storming out of the clubhouse, Bucky had tried calling you. He spent the rest of his night trying to get you to answer your phone. Clint had tried. Natasha had tried. You refused to answer anyone and when Clint finally got fed up and came home to check on your you were passed out next to a bottle of Jack.

Bucky wasn’t too happy with you this morning.

“What the hell are you doing driving drunk?” Bucky asked, ignoring your dig at his patch. The very same patch he took for you, not that you knew that and maybe you didn’t even care. 

“You know better than to drink and drive. If you’re gonna drink, I could have taken you home. Or Peter. Or Tony. How about your brother? Forget about Clint?”

“Oh, for Christ's sake.” You grumbled under your breath. “I wasn’t drunk. I had two shots. I’ve watched you drink a hell of a lot more and drive your bike. With me on the back might I add.”

“That’s different!” Bucky shouted. “I know you're safe then! I called you probably fifty times  to make sure you were okay, and you wouldn’t answer your damn phone, Y/n!”

“Of course I didn’t answer! I’m not yours!” You shouted back. “You don’t get to come in here and yell at me because something didn’t go your way. If you wanted a say in my life, you shouldn’t have pushed me away!”

Bucky’s mouth set in a thin line and you knew he was holding back, there was something he wanted to say, but he wasn’t going to say it while Clint was on the front porch possibly listening to every word that the two of you were spewing at each other. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. Bucky needed to calm down. This wasn’t going to be the way he won you back, and he knew that.

“I don’t want to fight with you, Y/n.” He conceded, observing you. Looking for any hint at what you’re feeling.

“Then what are doing here?”

“You left yesterday because…” He sighed and stepped closer to you, shifting from one foot to the other. He wasn’t sure if he should just blurt it out or be delicate. He was having a hard time reading you, and he hated it. He’s never had that problem before. He’s always known what you were thinking, how to talk to you and since you’ve been home, everything has been different.

You’ve been different.

“What’s the matter? Hard to say it to my face?” You asked, jealousy souring your words. “Guess it’s easier when she’s curled up on your lap, and you can’t see my face because your head is buried in her tits, huh?” You could hear how jealous you sounded the more you went on and judging by the smirk on Bucky’s face he heard it too.

Dumb handsome jerk!

“If you would have stuck around instead of letting your jealousy get the best of you, you would have witnessed me pushed her off my lap.” He leaned forward closing the small distance that separated you and bumped his nose against yours, whispering. “I’ve got no interest in anyone curling up on my lap but you, pretty girl.”

“Sure have a funny way of showing it.” You murmured back, voice cracking as you placed your hand on his leather-covered chest.

“Give me a break!” Bucky groaned and took a step back from you, giving you the space you wanted. “I was a kid, and you were asking a lot of a twenty-two-year-old that was just handed a shit ton of responsibility overnight.”

“You asked first if I recall.” You blew out a shaky breath and met his eyes. “Doesn’t matter now, does it?”

“It sure as hell does matter! You’re still hurt and I--” He stopped himself, reminding himself to calm down before he said something he was going to regret. His nerves were getting the best of him again. That’s the way it’s always been with you. The more time he spends wrapped up in you, the more he begins to unravel. How was he supposed to make you see how sorry he was, how right you were for each other if you kept looking at him like you that?

As if you wanted to be around anyone, anything but him. 

“I don’t wanna talk about the damn club girl. I’m not interested in her. I’m only interested in you and how to fix us. How to get you back.” He reached out and grabbed your arm tugging you back against him. 

“You really need me to say it?” He asked in a soft whisper.

You were so close to him you had to tilt your head back to meet his eyes. You shrug slightly in response, not sure if you wanted to hear what he was about to say or not.

His forehead rested against yours anchoring himself in your eyes and trying to gather some semblance of strength. It didn’t use to be this hard to talk to you, but after everything, it seemed some things were going to take longer to restore.

“You’re still my swallow, pretty girl.” He breathed, his eyes locked on yours, glimmering with his nerves. “I should’ve run after you. I was a fuckin’ dumbass, baby. I knew it was a mistake the second you walked out of the door, but I was a stubborn dick. I thought I was doing what was right by you.”

“What does that mean? Doing right by me?” You asked, confused. That didn’t make any sense at all. How could hurting you the way he did have been doing what was right by you?

“I--” Bucky froze. Regret filling his features as he realized what he let slip. He didn’t want to get into that now. He couldn’t tell you like this, not when Clint was hanging around and who knew where Natasha was spying from. 

“We can talk about that another day, babydoll.”  Of course, you could. After he had time to fabricate some pathetic tale to try and trick you into forgiving him. There was nothing to talk about, and you knew that. You shook your head and took a step back from him forcing his hands off of you.

It was all just sweet words and utter bullshit.

“You know, I think my schedule is fully booked. I won’t have the time. You should take that little girl of yours out and tell her all your lies. She looked like a good time. I especially liked the ‘biker slut’ stamped on her lower back. Your daddy would be so proud of you.”  You hated what everything you were saying. The thought of him touching someone else made you sick but you were angry and hurt, and it fell out of your mouth without a second thought. The flash anger that filled Bucky’s eyes let you know you went too far, bringing his dad into this stupid, pointless fight pushed Bucky over the edge and right into pissed off.

Bucky nodded towards your sweater covered wrist, hiding the pain behind his anger, he snapped. “Since you removed your tattoo I guess I’m free to do what I want, huh? Maybe I will. I wonder what her ass would look like with a swallow on it.” 

Silence filled the house as his words hung in the air and settled over both of you. He wanted to take it back. God, did he want to take it back the moment he said it but seeing those tears in your eyes? That was too much for him to take. Damn, he hated making you cry, and it’s happened more often than he would like to admit.

“Y/n--”

“I’m sure you two will be really happy together.” You stuttered as tears spilled over onto your cheeks. “I hope she handles your bullshit better than I could.”

“Darlin’.” He reached out for your wrist, but you pulled away before he ever got close to touching you and he sighed. “You know I didn’t mean that. No one else--”

“Please just leave, James.” You mumbled, bottom lip trembling as you tried to hold back your tears, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of knowing he can still make you cry after all this time.

James. It was like ice in his veins. He hated the way it sounded on your lips. It sounded wrong, and he would do just about anything to take the pain and anger out of your voice. There was no chance to fix what he had done, to apologize. You were gone, hiding away in your room before he could blink.  

“Fuck me.” He groaned as he bounded out of the house, avoiding eye contact with Clint on his way out the door. Bucky knew he heard everything that was said the second he saw how tense Clint was leaning against the porch railing. Clint crossed his arms over his chest as Bucky stomped down the front steps towards his bike.

“Way to fuckin’ go man. That how you won her over the first time?” He called after him, his voice was light and full of snark, but Bucky could hear the malice under all of it.

“Shut it, Clint.” He snapped, slipping his gloves on and straddling his bike. He took a chance and looked up to meet Clint’s eyes. He ignored the angry dwelling in them and nodding towards the house. “Go check on her, please. I-- make sure she knows I didn’t mean it. There’s never been anyone but her. Never will be anyone but her.”

Clint’s eyes softened, only a fraction but they did soften.“Yeah, I know man. Everyone knows it’s only ever been Y/n.” He eyed the brunet and finally asked the question everyone has been thinking since you came home. “You thinkin’ she can save your broken ass?”

“She’s the only one that can save me, Clint,” Bucky replied instantly. No hesitation, because he knew without a doubt it was true. He didn’t need to think about it. You were the only one that could bring him back from the shell of a man he’s become. 

“Listen, I’ll see you at chapel in a few hours. Steve wants everyone in. We’ve got some shit to talk about.” His wrist flexed slightly, and the bike roared to life under him, ending the interrogation Clint had started only a moment ago.

“Buck?” Clint shouted over the rumble of his bike, waiting till he got the taller man's attention before continuing. “You make her cry like that again, and you and I are gonna have a problem. I won’t be bringing it to the table. We clear?”

He gave a curt nod and pulled out of the driveway without another word. He had no intention of making you cry again, threat or not.

“Bug?” Clint knocked on your door and slowly nudged it open, not waiting for an answer. He had planned on asking if it was okay to come in, making sure you even wanted company, but the second he saw you laying on your bed with tears streaming down your face, he didn’t care if you wanted him there or not. He was by your side in a flash and collapsed next to you in bed, pulling you into his arms and letting you hide your tears in his shirt.

“It’s okay, bug.” He cooed softly in your ear. “I’m right here. Let it all out. It’s gonna be okay.”

“He asked me you know? Five years ago he asked me and now look at us.” Your voice was already hoarse from how raw your throat had gotten, and it only made Clint’s urge to beat Bucky into the ground that much stronger. It took a lot for him to keep his voice neutral, if you thought he was upset with Bucky, it would only add to what you were feeling -- and truthfully, he was worried you would run again. That was the last thing Clint wanted. 

He could keep his anger in check for you.

“Asked you what bug?” He pushed gently after you fell silent. He wasn’t sure what you were mumbling through all your tears, but you certainly had his attention. 

You sniffled, stuttered and sucked in a trembling breath as you attempted to calm yourself enough to answer. Every time you thought you were relaxed enough to answer another wave of sadness would rush over you, your mind racing to thoughts of who Bucky was with and where he went when he drove off, leaving you behind once again.  You choked out another soft sob hiding your face in Clint’s shirt, trying your best to avoid crying all over his leather.

He wouldn’t care if you did, he only wanted to help and if that meant ruining his leather then so be it.

“Talk to me, Y/n,” Clint begged as your silent sobs continued. “I’m freaking out here. I want to help, but I don’t know how, sis.” 

A small smile tugged at your lips as you tightened your hold on the fabric that was twisted in your fist, stretching and wrinkling his shirt. It took a few more minutes of stuttering breaths before you were able to stop your tears and put yourself in the right headspace to answer him.

“Right-- right before dad died Bucky asked me to marry him. He told me to take the weekend to think about it because it would be a big deal, being married to the club president and then the accident happened--” You blew out a shaky breath and wiped the few stray tears away.

“--And, well, here we are.”

Clint closed his eyes and leaned his cheek on top of your head. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but he was right to give you time to think bug. You just lost dad, and Buck just took over the club a few months before that. I’m guessing he didn’t like that you said no? Is that why you left? He gave you ‘it’s all or nothin’’ speech, and you ran?”

Oh, how you wished that was how it all happened.

“I said yes.” You whispered so softly Clint wasn’t even sure he heard you right, but the second he saw those tears returning and spilling over onto your cheeks he knew he had. You had said yes to marrying Bucky. That didn’t help explain what happened, it only added to his confusion.

“You said yes? Then why did you leave? Did he -- did he sleep with one of the girls or something?” Clint’s brain was going a thousand miles a minute. He was replaying that night in his head. You were clinging to Buck all night like you had since your dad died. Then you two disappeared. Next thing he knew you had taken off with Nat and Steve sent Clint home to check on you. You could have easily caught him with someone else before you had a chance to tell him yes.

“He’s never cheated on me. Bucky wouldn’t cheat on me.” 

Clint blew out a breath and tightened his arms around you as the tension eased out of him. He loved Buck like a brother so it would be a shame if he had to beat the life out of him for cheating on his sister.

“What happened, bug? Did you change your mind after dad?”

You shook your head. It wasn’t the whole story. It was enough for now, and you were too tired to talk anymore today.

--------

Natasha somehow managed to calm Clint down before he went to meet the club for chapel. You hadn’t been in the room, but you had heard her soft, soothing whispers, telling him to calm down and remember that mistakes were made by more than one person and Bucky wasn’t entirely at fault. You weren’t sure if she was referring to you or to Steve, but either way, it didn’t matter who she was blaming. She was right. The things you did, the choices you made that night, all of it was worse than what Bucky did. You let your anger and your pride rule your decisions, and it left you alone and heartbroken.

If you had just taken a few minutes to really think about things and the consequences of your actions, maybe you could have fixed things before they spiraled out of control. Perhaps you wouldn’t have lost Bucky entirely if you had just talked to him instead of listening to all those prideful whispers in your head. 

Placing blame and pointing fingers was pointless now and it wouldn’t have made a difference who was more at fault. None of that would change the outcome. It looked as if the two of you were destined to end up here, broken and in love with a reality neither of you could have.

You had spent the afternoon sulking in your room when Natasha had stormed up, yanked you up out of bed and handed you a list of things they needed from the market. She had to get to the club and Clint was out of coffee, if that wasn’t rectified by morning, there would be chaos in the Barton house. You had a feeling Natasha was only forcing you out of the house in an attempt to stop your moping.

It sorta worked not that you would ever tell her that. You had picked up several bottles of wine, grabbed Clint’s coffee and were now staring at the stacks and stacks of baked goods in the bakery. Maybe some chocolate treats will keep Clint calm and prevent him from killing the man you love. Or, loved? Whatever he was to you at that moment.

“Hey.” A deep voice called out to you from across the pile of brownies, stopping your internal debate over fudge covered brownies or cookies and cream, you glanced up and found Eddie Brock smiling at you over the stack of baked goods, no leather this time, but he still looked handsome.

“Y/n, right?” He asked, charming grin in full effect.

“Yeah, Y/n.” 

You gave him a small smile in return and gestured to your own face, referencing his split lip and busted nose. You winced when you noticed the deep bruising around his nose and just how deep the cut on his lip was. Bucky had not held back in the slightest by the looks of things. 

“I’m sorry about that. I feel like that’s kinda my fault.” You confessed softly. He chuckled and shrugged it off as if it was nothing that his nose probably needed to be reset thanks to her overprotective boyfriend-- or, ex-boyfriend. 

“It’s okay.” He said, sporting an easy smile. “I should have known someone as pretty as you wouldn’t be single. Of course, your old man had to be the crazy hothead of the group. Just my luck.”

What is with bikers, hm? Did they all think these stupid lines turned women into a whimpering mess? There was only one man that could turn you into a whimpering mess, and he certainly didn’t need to use a cheesy line to do so.

Still, this one was kind of cute. He was no James Barnes but he was cute.

“He’s not actually mine.” Eddie raised his brow, and you shrugged in response. “It’s a long story, but you should know I’m not really available either.” 

Because your heart belonged to someone else even if you didn’t want to admit that out loud and that was not something he needs to know. The fact of the matter was, Bucky still very much occupied your head and your heart. There wasn’t room for anyone else, no matter how cute. 

“If it hadn’t of been Buck, my brother would have kicked your ass.”

“Damn. The blonde with the purple bike right?” You nodded, and he grinned playfully as he flexed for you. “I’m pretty tough. You’re counting me out that easy? You think he could kick my ass?”

“I mean, yeah.” You grinned. “My brother is a badass. How do you think I got to be this amazing?”

He dropped his arm and leaned over the table, cocky grin curling up the edge of his lips and whispering only loud enough for you and the baked goods to hear, “Pretty sure you got there on your own. No man helped you get where you are.”

And, that was the first time your heart had flipped for someone that wasn’t Bucky Barnes. You weren’t sure how you felt about that, but you weren’t given a chance to linger on the thought for long.

“Y/n.” Steve’s sharp voice cut through the air and silenced the conversation. He walked over to stand next to you and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Eddie.” He narrowed his eyes at the shorter man. “I think it’s time you move along. She’s spoken for.” 

You meet Eddie’s eyes, your apology was written in them along with an ‘i told you so.’

Eddie’s eyes flicked from yours back to Steve’s, and you knew he was about to say something stupid. “I think she can make her own decisions, Rogers. We aren’t in your clubhouse. You don’t have jurisdiction here.”

You winced at his choice of words. Yep. Something stupid.

That wasn’t going to go over well at all. Steve dropped his arms and pushed you behind him as if he was protecting you from something, he leaned over the stack of packaged muffins and brownies glaring hard at the other man. “Leave. Now.” He growled. “Stay away from Y/n. If I see you around her again, I’ll show you just how far my jurisdiction goes.”

Thankfully Eddie had the good sense to shut his mouth and walk away. No one wanted to cause a scene in the middle of the market. Might have had something to do with that fact that there were three other club members parked right outside ready to jump up and stand by their president’s side.

Odds weren’t exactly in Eddie’s favor.

“What the hell are you doing?” Steve snipped at you once they were alone. He must have lost in damn mind in the last five years if Steve thought he could talk to you like you’re just another club girl. He knew better.

“Excuse me?” You snapped back and lifted up your basket full of food. “I was trying to buy some chocolate chip muffins and brownies because Clint can’t eat anything healthy, but apparently I can’t get away from asshole bikers no matter where I go.”

He looked like he was about to yell at you, but you stepped forward, lowering your voice, “I’d watch what you’re about to say, Steven Grant.” He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair, anger flashed in his eyes for just a second before they settled back to their standard, calmer blue.

“Did you forget the rules? What’s expected of you?” He asked, tone gentler than it had been a moment ago, but it was the meaning behind the words, not the tone. You narrowed your eyes at the man before you. He wasn’t Steve right now, he was the club president, and you had no patience for the MC president. 

“No. I haven’t forgotten. I’m not trying to date anyone let alone date another biker.” You hissed back at him. “I haven’t forgotten anything, Steven. Have you forgotten? Or are you just planning on hiding your bullshit lies from everyone, Bucky included?”

“Y/n--” He sighed, and his whole frame softened as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s more complicated than you realize and you won’t fully understand until you talk to Buck. Actually, sit down and talk to him.”

This wasn’t the first time someone had told you to talk to Bucky since you’ve been home and frankly, you were done with all the secrets and all the bullshit. What the hell was everyone talking about? How could it more complicated than it already was?

“Why don’t you come by and at least listen to him.” Steve nudged you with a sly grin on his face.“Clint said your car was acting up, the guys can work on it for free and the two of you can talk. Clear the air.”

“With everyone watching? No thanks.”

“Well...” He bent down and whispered, “You could let Buck take you for a ride. I know how much you like being on the back of his bike.” Steve grinned as your eyes went wide and you shifted your feet nervously. 

“Pretty sure he missed it more.” Added Steve at sight of your nerves.

You had missed it. A lot. More than the bike you just missed being close to Bucky like that, being able to wrap your arms around him as tight as you wanted, the way you could nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck, and slip one hand into his open shirt so it could rest against his skin right over his heart.  

Despite how much your heart ached to go back and have all of that again, you weren’t sure that was even an option anymore. Especially after this morning.

“Look, I’ll think about it okay?” You said as you punched his arm lightly. “But you can’t just scare away every man that dares to talk to me. He was only being friendly, and it’s kind of my fault he’s going to need some rhinoplasty.”

Steve snorted and shook his head. “Bucky would disagree with you. Stay away from Eddie Brock.” He ordered, going serious again. “He’s not a good guy like you think he is and we both know if Buck had seen you two talking, it wouldn’t have ended so civilly.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

“I’ll make sure the club girls are gone this time.” He said with that dumb know it all smirk.

“Jesus.” You breathed in annoyance. “Don’t you two have a club to run instead of spending your days gossiping? Does he tell you everything?”

Steve’s grin widened as he walked past her towards the registers. “Oh,” He shouted back at you. “Nice tattoo.”

You look down at your wrist at the completely visible swallow, flashing like a neon sign on your wrist. You close your eyes at the sound of Steve’s deep chuckle. “Talk to him, Y/n. What the two of you had doesn’t simply go away because you ran away, and I think we both know that.”  

Steve was a giant jerk, you’ve officially decided. A giant jerky jerk face. You had no idea why you ever liked him. You open eyes and look back down at the swallow on your wrist. You would never admit it to his smug face, but Steve was right. Feelings like yours don’t just vanish because you begged and pleaded with your heart.

Five years was long enough.

It was time to clear the air and put all of this behind you.

You both deserved the truth, and you were going to get it out of him if it killed you.

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