#white passing gwen is still so big brained

[brown-spider]

Lightskin Gwen edits by Mudp4wzz on twitter

"South African" Gwanda real 💯

[flourgirl]

Sick of Losing Soulmates

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Months after you and Peter have broken up, you run into each other at Harry’s Christmas party.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Both fluffy and angsty. Mentions of alcohol and sex. A mild amount of curse words.

A/N: I’m ALIVE! I hope you all are having a wonderful holiday season, and Merry Christmas to everybody that celebrates it! I am so happy to be able to share my work with all of you! Enjoy <3

“And maybe we got lost in translation Maybe I asked for too much But maybe this thing was a masterpiece Till you tore it all up” -All Too Well, Taylor Swift

He wasn’t supposed to be here. Harry had promised you that his roommate would be spending the holidays with May back in Queens. But here he was, wearing the sweater that you had given him last year with his arm snaked around another girl’s waist.

“Hey!” Betty grinned, throwing her arms around you. She had a half-empty glass of mulled wine that you could tell was doing a good job of getting her tipsy. “I’ve missed you so much, Y/N. We never see each other anymore.”

She pouted, a pair of reindeer antlers where her signature black headband usually sat. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” you assured her, still staring at Peter effortlessly carrying the conversation with a bunch of people you didn’t recognize. “Uh, who’s the girl with Peter?”

“Gwen Stacy,” she muttered, obviously not a very big fan. You figured it was because there was only room for one preppy blonde girl, and Betty didn’t feel like sharing that position with anybody else. “Don’t worry though! It’s nothing serious. Peter actually hasn’t really dated anybody ever since the two of you…”

Her voice trailed off as you locked eyes with her, silently communicating for her to drop the subject. It was a relief to know that he hadn’t moved on, but the fact that he was wrapped up in a fling with somebody else still made your heart hurt.

“Come on, Y/N. I’m sure MJ and Ned would love to see you! They’re over in the kitchen.” She reached for your hand, dragging you along through Harry’s expertly decorated apartment. 

You dropped the box of cookies that you had baked on the counter before tapping MJ on the shoulder. She was turned away from you, lecturing Ned on why his secondhand Beyblades were not acceptable Christmas presents.

“Who the hell is touching me?” she snapped, turning around with a look on her face that told you she was ready to throw hands. “Holy fuck. Y/N! How long have you been here?”

MJ’s frown faded into a smile as she pulled you into a side-hug, her other hand busy nursing a glass of Harry’s infamously terrible eggnog. “Only a few minutes,” you laughed, your face smushed into her torso. 

“Hi,” Ned piped up, offering a small wave. You could tell he didn’t really know where he stood ever since his best friend basically ripped your heart out and threw it on the floor. Well, it wasn’t actually that dramatic, but he had a flair for exaggerating stories. “Remember me?”

“Of course, stupid,” you grinned, offering a fist bump that he happily accepted. “How could I forget those iconic fits of yours?”

“True,” he said, popping his collar and doing a little twirl that made Betty and MJ roll their eyes. “You look pretty fly too, though.”

“Thanks,” you replied, holding the edge of your dress as you curtsied, something you and Ned had made a habit of doing as the so-called best dressed members of the group.

“You two are just as ridiculous as ever,” Betty mused, happy to see you still fit in just as perfectly as when you were Peter’s girlfriend, even if you weren’t around as much.

The reunion was interrupted by the loud chatter of a certain couple, and your heart sank as you watched a very drunk Peter and Gwen stumble towards the kitchen, a giggling mess. They situated themselves under the archway that separated the two rooms, a piece of mistletoe conveniently hanging above them.��

You could tell that MJ was ready to put a stop to her friend’s embarrassing behavior, and the looks on Ned and Betty’s faces told you that they had no intentions of holding her back. 

“They’re so gross,” MJ complained, setting down her untouched cup before excusing herself to drag Peter out of his drunken makeout session. “I can’t believe he’d do that when you’re right here!”

“Wait, MJ,” you blurted, grabbing onto her wrist to stop her. She turned to face you, her eyebrows furrowed. “It’s okay. I don’t care about it. I’m just going to head to the bathroom, alright? I’ll be right back.”

You did your best to stop yourself from tearing up, although you realized you had made the utter mistake of forgetting that the very arch that Peter and Gwen were sucking each other’s faces under was the only way out of the kitchen.

Not even a few moments of you awkwardly standing next to them, occasionally clearing your throat, made them notice you. Eventually, the discomfort grew too heavy, and you tapped Peter on the shoulder. He finally pulled away from Gwen, her lipstick smudged across his mouth and a dazed look on his face.

Gwen whimpered at the loss of his kiss, obviously annoyed at the random girl that had just interrupted them. As soon as Peter recognized that it was you, he stepped away from her, wiping his mouth and fixing the hair she had been running her hands through, just like you used to.

“Y/N. I didn’t know that you’d be here,” he reasoned, a blush spreading across his face as a sense of regret settled into his stomach. 

“Obviously,” you sighed. This wasn’t the Peter you knew—the sweet, shy one that you had fallen in love with. “You guys are blocking the hallway, by the way.”

“Shit, sorry,” he stammered, stepping aside to allow you to pass in between them. He followed you, leaving Gwen irritated and confused as to who you were. “Y/N. Can we talk later?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Nice sweater, though,” you quipped, not even turning back to meet his gaze before climbing the stairs towards the guest bathroom. Everything felt all too familiar, memories of you and Peter stumbling up the same steps after a date flooding your brain.

The first time Peter had kissed you was after MJ’s birthday party. Neither of you had been drinking, since you hated alcohol and Peter refused to touch any before he turned 21. This meant that you got to spend the whole night laughing at everybody else’s drunken mischief. 

In the middle of his performance of some Nicki Minaj song, Ned managed to spill a whole can of beer on you and Peter, which resulted in many cheers as the two of you ran to his room to grab a change of clothes. Shirts came off, confessions were made, and the party went on without you guys.

You took a deep breath, shutting the bathroom door behind you and sitting on the edge of the bathtub. If you had known Peter would end up being here, you would have never accepted Harry’s invitation. There were so many old wounds being opened up that you had spent months trying to heal, and you weren’t sure some stupid Christmas party was worth it. 

But you didn’t want to leave. It wasn’t fair how much the break up had stolen from you. All of your friends were here and you were tired of shying away from going out with them anymore because you were too scared to see Peter. Too scared that you would never be able to stop being in love with him.

By the time you rejoined the rest of your friends, Harry was announcing that it was time to start the game of White Elephant. You bit the edges of your fingernails as the party guests filed into Harry’s living room, hoping that Peter wouldn’t somehow pick your present.

“What’d you bring?” you asked Betty, squishing in next to her on the couch. 

“Gift card to In-N-Out,” she giggled, satisfied that her present could only be used on the other side of the country. “But Harry’s rich friends might not have any trouble flying their private jets to California, so maybe I’m not as clever as I thought.”

“Heard that,” Harry said, leaning behind you on the edge of the couch. He placed a quick kiss on your cheek, something the two of you had always done as friends but stopped once you started dating Peter. “Hey, Y/N. Glad you could make it.”

“Hey, you,” you replied, smiling back at him, your leg bouncing impatiently. “We doing this thing or what?”

“Yeah, yeah, give me a minute,” he laughed, running out of the room. Moments later, he came back wearing a fake beard and a Santa hat, complete with a miniature sack of toys. 

“Alright, boys and girls. Let’s get this game started! Hopefully you all know the rules, but I’ll repeat them anyway. I draw a name out of the sack, you pick a random present and open it up for everybody to see. The next person that goes can either steal your gift or pick a new one. If your gift gets stolen, you get to do the same. No stealing twice!”

The first couple of people you didn’t really know, and they had all pulled presents that were relatively uninteresting. A scented candle, toilet paper, a pair of socks. Nothing you really considered worth stealing, although Ned ended up taking a framed, autographed photo of Harry from MJ, which resulted in her stealing Gwen’s mini waffle iron.

By the time it was your turn, there weren’t many gifts left. Going with your gut, you grabbed the bag covered in glittering polar bears. Reaching past all of the tissue paper stuffed inside, you pulled out a red sweatshirt that you unfolded to see had a large graphic of Spider-Man printed on it. 

“Oh,” you said, a little confused. The only people you knew that wore stuff with the Avengers on it were little kids, but you figured that was part of the joke. “I mean, I prefer Captain America, but thanks, whoever this is from!”

Peter’s face blushed to a shade of red, amazed that out of all the presents, you picked his. The only issue was that you didn’t know that he was actually the guy on the front of it. Nobody except Ned knew, although he was sure that MJ and Harry had caught on to his secret identity by now.

“Okay, two people left. Jake, you’re up next, buddy,” Harry called out, happily bouncing around the room, his Santa hat now replaced with a baseball cap that had “I Love Ned!” embroidered on it. You watched nervously as he walked around the room, eyeing up all of the presents before settling on the tiny, golden box that you had placed under the tree when you first arrived.

“Let’s see what we’re working with,” he smirked. Your thoughts raced, immediately feeling a sense of regret over the gift you had picked. “Oh, shit. Sweet! I’ve got a date with Y/N!”

“Sup, baby,” Jake continued, his words slightly slurred. He pointed at you and winked, and you offered him a polite smile in return. “We’re gonna have a good time. Just name the time and place and I got you.”

“Awesome, congrats, man,” Harry said, obviously ready for the game to be over. It had been going for way longer than any of you had expected, mostly due to the fact that two girls wouldn’t stop arguing over a piece of rose quartz. “Okay, we’re nearly finished, guys. Peter, you’re up. Pick any of the gifts that haven’t been stolen yet, or the last one under the tree.”

You locked eyes with him, a familiar scowl on his face that told you he was thinking really hard about which gift to pick. His spidey-senses felt your heartbeat pick up as he walked around the room before stopping in front of Jake, who was busy gloating to his friend about how “hot” you were. Your face heated up as you watched Peter take the little note that you had written out of Jake’s hands, smugly gesturing for him to pick up the present under the tree.

He waved sheepishly at you, and you felt both relieved and angry at his decision. Did you want to go on that date with Jake? No. Were you still mad that, technically, you now had to go out with your ex-boyfriend? Yes.

The game ended and the party-goers dispersed throughout the apartment. You lingered in your spot on the couch, your arms crossed and heart full of mixed emotions. Peter, whose gaze never strayed from you, walked over to where you were sitting.

“We don’t actually have to go out,” he whispered, hoping that you’d actually look at him this time. “I just didn’t think you wanted to go out with that guy. He seemed like kind of an asshole.”

“Yeah, well, it would have been nice if you let me decide that. You’re not my boyfriend, anymore Peter. We aren’t even friends. You don’t get a say in who I go out on dates with,” you grumbled, your eyes focusing on everything in the room except for him.

Before you could say anything else, Peter had already grabbed you by the hand, dragging you away from the rest of the party. Strangely enough, you went along with it, a little curious to hear him out.

You started to remember your first date, and it was almost like you could hear his excited laughter after you finally managed to knock a pin down. It became a tradition that whenever you had something to celebrate, Peter would pick you up and twirl you around until you had to beg him to stop.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Peter slamming the door behind him and cornering you against it, his heartbeat racing. He had pulled you into the laundry room. “I can’t stand seeing you with anybody else,” he panted, eyes flickering down towards your mouth.

His hand pushed a piece of your hair behind your ear, and your breath hitched as you felt his rough fingertips against your skin. But before he could lean in to kiss you, you were ducking underneath his arm and backing away.

“Peter, we really shouldn’t,” you whispered, watching the disappointment wash over his face. No matter how much you wanted to kiss him, you just couldn't forget how he had broken your heart months ago. “It’s over, okay?”

“Y/N, please. I—”

“You what? You love me? Because last time we were together, I told you how much I loved you and you said that we should break up. Remember?” you cried, embarrassed at how you couldn’t control your emotions anymore. “You’re just… you’re too late.”

You fumbled with the door, slipping through the opening before rushing towards the balcony. As soon as the cold air hit you, a wave of relief washed over your body, and you laid your head against the metal railing. Your breathing slowed and time seemed to stand still as you watched the snowflakes flutter through the wind.

“Peter’s an idiot,” you heard a voice call out from behind you. You turned to see Harry holding an extra coat in his arms, and you started to wonder just how long you had been standing out there. He draped it over your shoulders before leaning next to you against the balcony’s edge.

“Huh?” you asked, wondering if he knew what had just happened. You looked at him, the multicolored Christmas lights reflecting off his shiny hair. “What do you mean?”

“He’s stupid for ever letting you go,” he remarked. He had a look in his eyes that made you unsure of what he actually meant. “I mean, look at you. You’re so beautiful, and smart, and funny. And if he was dumb enough to throw all of that away, then yeah, Peter’s an idiot.”

“Oh, thanks, I guess,” you shrugged, your voice faint under the music that was still playing inside. You looked at him, his cheeks a rosy hue, which you couldn’t tell was from the cold or whatever he was trying to tell you.

“You know, I used to have the biggest crush on you,” Harry admitted, laughing a little bit at how nervous he was. Everybody knew that he was a player, so being flustered over a girl was uncharted territory for him. “I never told you this, but you were my first kiss.”

“Wait, really?” you asked, a little shocked at his confession. “But I thought you kissed Sarah Emerson on the playground in the fifth grade?”

“Nope. I was just a liar,” he grinned, running a hand through his hair. “It was right before our eighth grade formal, when you asked me to teach you how to kiss because you were scared that Jeremy Pellegrino was going to try and french you.

“Oh! I forgot all about that,” you laughed, suddenly remembering just how long you and Harry had been friends. “Hold on a second... You gave me kissing lessons without knowing how to kiss!?”

“Guilty,” Harry chuckled as you punched him on the arm. “Ow! Damn, Y/N. When did you get so strong?”

“I have a lot of rage,” you mumbled before the two of you burst out into laughter, which slowly faded into a comfortable silence. 

“You don’t feel that way anymore, right?” you wondered out loud. Harry looked at you, smiling softly.

“No, not anymore,” he affirmed, and you let out a sigh of relief. You knew what it felt like to love someone and not be loved back. “I think what really helped me get over it was seeing how happy you and Parker were when you were dating.” 

“He misses you a lot,” Harry continued, his tone more serious than before. “He keeps this scarf that you left behind under his pillow because it still smells like you. I found out because he was having a pretty bad dream one night and I had to try really hard to calm him back down. And we both thought Gwen would help him move on and get his mind off of you, but I think she only made him realize just how much he still loves you—”

“Harry,” you interrupted, cutting his rambles short. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because you and Peter should be together.”

“You think so?” you asked him, pulling the jacket tighter to keep you warm.

“Yeah. We all do.” It took only seconds for Harry to realize his fumble, accidentally admitting that the whole thing had been planned by him and your friends.

“We?” Your frowned, all of the coincidences from tonight suddenly making much more sense. “Wait, did you know that Peter was going to be here tonight all along?”

“Uh… yeah, about that. MJ, Ned, and I have kind of been pulling a Parent Trap on you guys.”

“HARRY!” You glared inside to see them not-so-secretly watching the entire exchange from behind the Christmas tree. Ned did some awkward finger guns, which MJ immediately swatted down. “I am so going to get you guys!”

You marched inside to where your friends were attempting to hide, the rest of the party guests too drunk and oblivious to notice what was happening. 

“The eagle has left the nest. I repeat, The eagle has left the nest!” Ned yelled, ducking behind MJ, who was already shielding herself with a throw pillow.

“What’s going on?” Betty whined, half-asleep on the couch. “Is this that stupid plan about Peter and Y/N?”

“It’s not stupid!” Harry grumbled, his voice cracking a little bit. You could hear MJ snorting about it from her hiding spot. “Whatever, Michelle.”

“Shut up!” she shouted back.

“No, you!” he said, crossing his arms and standing his ground.

“Make me,” MJ said, narrowing her eyes and shooting daggers at him.

“Uh, guys. This isn’t about you two,” Ned interrupted, snapping them out of their mini argument. There was a weird tension between them that you just knew you would have to address some time in the future.

“Right,” MJ continued, sticking a middle finger up at Harry before turning to you. “Y/N. You should go talk to Peter.”

You nodded, exchanging hopeful looks with each of your friends before walking away. They might be dramatic goofballs, but you loved them so much that you didn’t really care.

Wandering around the party, you spotted Peter trapped in a conversation with Brad Davis, who was explaining his conspiracy theories about the Denver Airport and its demonic horse statue.

“So, all I’m saying is that they’re totally planning the end of the world over there. I mean, the Freemasons built an entire bunker for when they activate the nukes!” he rambled, Peter politely nodding along to his nonsense.

“Hey,” you said, tapping Brad on the shoulder and batting your eyelashes at him. “Can I borrow Peter?”

“Uh, yeah, totally, Y/N,” he stuttered, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards into a smirk. You could smell the peppermint Schnapps on his breath.

“Great. Thanks, Brad!” you smiled, grabbing Peter’s hand and pulling him towards the staircase. By the time you made it to his bedroom, he had already asked what was going on about ten times.

“Why’d you dump me?” you asked, the two of you sitting together on the edge of his bed, your knee brushing against his. He could tell you were wasting no time in getting to the point. “Be honest.”

He stared at the floor, unsure of how to answer your question. You reached for his hand, running your thumb across his knuckles until he looked up to see you smiling at him. His eyes were starting to water. “Just tell me, Peter. It’s okay.”

“I was scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I was scared of how much I love you. I mean, Liz was just a crush, and Gwen was a hookup. I’ve only ever loved you, Y/N. Before we met, I had to watch May’s heart break day after day when we lost Uncle Ben, and when I realized how much I loved you... I just wasn’t sure if I could handle ever losing you like that. And so I felt like I needed to protect you from all of the people who would want to hurt you.”

“Hey, Peter. Calm down. I’m right here,” you whispered, wiping a tear from his face. You watched as his breathing slowed, eventually evening out. “Why would anybody want to hurt me?”

“Because…” he started, hesitating a little bit. “Because I’m Spider-Man.”

Your eyes grew big as you mulled over what he had just said. “Are you being serious right now?”

He nodded, feeling a weight lift from his chest. Your eyes followed him as he walked over to his closet, digging around through piles of clothes before he found what he was looking for.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out. Peter was holding up Spider-Man’s suit. His suit. The sweatshirt from earlier made a lot more sense now.

“I would never lie to you,” he said, folding it up and sitting back down. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I thought I was doing the right thing—that you’d be safe—but I was so stupid. I, uh, I think about you all the time. I worry whether you’ve gotten home alright and how your little brother’s doing and if your mom got the promotion that she wanted and—”

You cut him off with a kiss, something you had been dying to do ever since you shut his bedroom door. “I forgive you,” you sighed, gently playing with his hair.

Peter stared back at you, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “Does this mean that we’re back together?”

“Yep,” you confirmed, before leaning into another kiss. And another. And another.

“Wait,” Peter said, breaking away from you. “I have a present for you. It’s actually from when we first started dating, but I was waiting until Christmas to give it to you.”

He moved to his desk, digging through one of the drawers before pulling out a flash drive. “Here it is,” he smiled, dropping it into your hand. It had your name scribbled on it next to a cat sticker. “It’s a playlist. Of all the songs that make me think of you. I think it’s got around a hundred on there?”

“Wow,” you beamed, marveling at the little piece of plastic in your hand. “You’re making me look bad. I didn’t get you anything.”

“Not true. You owe me a date, remember?” he reminded you, wiggling his eyebrows and pulling you into his lap.

“You’re right. Let me think,” you hummed, running through all the ideas of what the two of you could do. “Oh! I got it. The Central Park Squirrel Census for this year just got released. What if we analyzed the data? You could do the wrangling and I could do the visualizations!”

“I love you so much,” he laughed, pressing a kiss onto the tip of your nose. You giggled as Peter buried his face into your shoulder, his grip around your waist tightening. “But you are such a nerd.”

“I’m your nerd, Parker,” you agreed, leaning further into his embrace. “Always have been and always will be.”

—————-

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[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 12

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, anxiety 

A/N: hope you enjoy this chapter xxx

NEXT CHAPTER

Y/N stood in her bedroom considering Daniel’s words. Clueless. God, the word itself stung coming from someone she had grown to see as a big brother. Clueless. Well, sure, she did not exactly know what happened behind closed doors with both the Stan family and Forrest family business but neither did Daniel, or at least as well as he bragged to know. She had heard both families were cruel but in all honesty, she just couldn’t imagine any of the heads of both families being those monsters people spoke of. She specially could not imagine Sebastian to be the monster Dan wanted to paint him, no. He had kind eyes, he didn’t have the type of darkness that she had seen in various other lesser associates, he had peaceful ones like the sea after a storm. Besides, Y/N liked to consider herself a good judge of character so maybe Dan was just being overprotective.

Annoyed, she huffed, turning on her side with her phone on her hand as she searched for the contact she wanted to call. She took her phone up to her ear, hearing the dialling tone for what felt for ages until the familiar operator voice came through. The number you have dialled is unavailable, please leave your message at the sound of the tone.

     - Hi Sebastian, it’s Y/N. I just ... I just wanted to check on you, to see if you’re alright. Give me a call when you can. Okay ... bye. 

She sighed, throwing her phone to the side table before getting under her duvet, her mind finally getting time to wrap around what had happened days prior. Why didn’t she feel guilty she had kissed a very engaged man? She always thought that cheating was a terrible thing to do to someone yet right now all she could think about was that maybe ... maybe she would be able to do it again. It wasn’t right but he was just so electric, magnetic even and his words echoed in her mind like a drum ... I’m here for you, no one can harm you. 

Sure, she had protection at most times considering Elias and Christian, whenever not in Gwen’s bedroom, were constantly around ensuring that no one got in or out of the house without permission or reason to do. However, protection from Sebastian sounded ... sweeter, warmer even. No man had ever told her they were there for her, much less they would fight their own wife for her (this mostly due to her preference at avoiding married men). It was unfair, very unfair that the very first time she felt seen and protected ... maybe even fully appreciated was by someone she just couldn’t have.

As her mind raced through various excuses as to why she kissed the mob boss, the sleepless nights caught up to her and soon she found herself surrounded by the familiar darkness of slumber. She woke up once again with the sun beams cutting through her window and decided that maybe right now what she needed was a good amount of food.

Going down the stairs, the familiar sight of Amelia in the kitchen preparing a fresh brew of coffee made her sleepily smile. This was the normality and home life she needed after all of Paris’ events. 

    - Good morning, Miss Y/N. How was Paris? - she turned on the kettle at the sight of the handmaid to prepare her favourite infusion. 

    - Paris was lovely. - she smiled softly, not pulling too much at the skin of her cheeks as she sat on the high chairs. - Do you think I could have some grilled cheese this morning?

   - You can have whatever you want, Miss Y/N. It is always a pleasure to cook for you. - Y/N couldn’t help but smile wider at that statement. It felt nice to have someone to talk to who wasn’t about to married to a mob boss, a mob boss, associates or bodyguards. - You look different.

    - How so? - she raised an eyebrow at the statement. Oh god, had Gwen discovered she kissed her husband to be and cut her hair in disdain? 

    - I don’t know ... there’s a spring in your step, you look very happy. Might there be someone in Paris? - yeah, sure, he is in Paris, he’s just not her someone, he’s Gwen’s. - Maybe it’s the European air.

   - Maybe ... You wouldn’t know when Mr. Stan is coming back, would you?

   - I don’t know, Miss. Mr. Stan shows up when he wants, never leaves a message, he’s just like his father in that sense. 

   - Did you know his father? - Y/N had never actually known his father but from what she heard from Gwen he was a tall, stern man who managed to put fear and respect in everyone’s hearts without giving it much of a try.

   - Just between us both Miss Y/N, I am very glad he only resembles his father in that sense. No man should be that comfortable with death and power and not fear it all the time. - she shrugged, flipping the sandwich on the skillet. - If I must say, I think Mr. Stan is much more like his mother. I’ve always said this house needed another kind woman after she left. 

   - I just can’t picture it. - Y/N didn’t exactly knew who Sebastian’s mother was. In all honesty, not a lot of people knew and Sebastian wasn’t one for big speeches about his family. However, she had always pictured him as being much more like his father, a powerful man. - He doesn’t really talk about his family. 

   - What about you, Miss Y/N? What about your parents?

   - Oh ... - she toyed with the chain of her necklace, slightly bitting her lip. - I don’t really know. Mr. Forrest told me my father was one of his workers, never told me much about my mother either. They died shortly after I was born. 

   - I’m very sorry, Miss Y/N. - Amelia slid her the grilled cheese on a nice porcelain plate. - I’m sure that they would be very proud of creating such a nice, beautiful lady. 

   - Thank you, Amelia. 

   - Oh ... good morning, Mr. Daniel. - she pipped up and Y/N rolled her eyes, not in the mood to speak with Daniel after last night’s events. He, however, had other plans as he sat right next to her. 

   - Good morning, Y/N. 

   - Good morning, Daniel. - she slid away from him. 

   - Oh c’mon, you’re not gonna sulk at me are you? - he poked her arm with one of the forks that had been laid out to him. - You know I’m sorry.  

    - You’re always sorry but you never actually say it. - Y/N huffed, grabbing her plate from the table and walking up to the sink. Dan sighed, knowing that, despite her being generally a kind and forgiving woman, whenever she was upset, she just remained upset for a while before forgetting it. However, this could take ages. 

Y/N decided she was still not ready to deal with Daniel or any of his opinions towards her view of the people she surrounded herself with. In all honesty, she had no time to worry about him or what he thought of her as her mind was filled with worry towards Sebastian. She knew he was notoriously hard to harm or even shot at however she hadn’t gotten a reply to her call and knew nothing of when he was about to return.

The days passed by and Daniel had managed to somehow get Y/N to get less mad at him by taking her to see his daughter. Sophie had been born while he was at university and Y/N had grown very attached to the little girl as she had been at home with Gwen when she was born. However, not even young Sophie could take her mind away from Sebastian. Her brain had quit making her feel guilty about the fact she had kissed the man who was to marry the only friend she ever knew and had instead turned all its efforts into making her picture all the horrific things that could happen to him. She knew it was reckless and pointless to worry about him, he clearly seemed to be invisible at what he did and part of her pitied the poor unfortunate souls who had dared to shot at him. 

Those days turned into weeks and as the third week hit mark, she was absolutely unconsolable. Gwen was not much help. In actuality, the heiress was rather happy that her fiancé wasn’t around as this gave her plenty of free time to do what she wanted with her newly found interest in her private bodyguard, Christian. Meanwhile, Y/N had taken to spending her days in the kitchen with Amelia and in the library, but not even that could take her mind off if he was alright despite Amelia and Elias constantly telling her it was normal of Sebastian to disappear and then suddenly return. 

Nevertheless, Y/N was anxious about his fate, spending most of the night sat by the window, listening as the rain fell down on the bright city that never slept. This was one of those nights where her fingers lingered on the fogged rainy windows, lightly doodling. This quickly grew tired-some and, wrapped around in one of the very expensive white cashmere blankets Sebastian had placed around the house, she went down the stairs and into the kitchen. Mindlessly, like a movement so familiar it didn’t need her attention, Y/N put some almond milk, cinnamon and honey in a pot and brought it up to the heat before taking to slowly mix it with a wooden spoon.

The sound of the bubbling milk and rain was enough to make her feel like every corner of the world was home and as she poured the mixture into a mug, she softly smiled at the overview of New York from the countless amount of ceiling length windows. It almost made her forget her worries. Almost. The heart warming atmosphere was interrupted by the ring of the lift that gave way into the entrance of the penthouse. Y/N turned around abruptly, the sight bringing a sparkle to her eyes. Placing the mug on the first surface she came in contact with, she rushed to the entrance, wrapping her arms around the mob boss as if they had been separated for over 10 years. 

   - Night, angel. - Sebastian was tired and that was noticeable by the dark bags under his eyes and his dishevelled appearance. However, he could surely get used to having Y/N wrap her arms around him every time he came home. Y/N, on the other hand, came to her senses and stepped back, feeling the heat coming to her cheeks. 

    - We were worried about you. - she shifted her weight from feet to feet.

    - Who’s we, angel? I’d gather we would mean you. - his hand traced down her forearm to her hand, softly holding it on his. - I’m sorry I didn’t answer your message, I didn’t want to lie to you as to when I’d be back. Besides, I assumed Gwen would enjoy a holiday from me. 

    - You could’ve said something. - she rubbed the side of her neck, eyes fixated on the ground. - I was worried. 

    - Ah ... - he smirked, taking a step forward. - You were worried. That was what I wanted to hear. 

    - Well, I ... I just wanted to know so I could warn Gwen. I shouldn’t bother you anymore, you must want to rest. I can fix you something to eat if you want. 

    - You’re not the housemaid, Y/N. Although something smells really good in here. 

    -  Oh ... - Y/N rushed into the kitchen, turning off the hob and bringing the pot back to one of the metal bases in the kitchen. - It’s just something me, Gwen, and Dan used to have when we were little and couldn’t sleep. 

   - What’s wrong? - Sebastian noticed the shift in her tone.

   - Do you think I’m clueless? - she leaned onto the kitchen’s wall. 

   - Why do you ask?

   - Dan seems to think I’m clueless. 

   - Daniel Forrest? - he asked and Y/N nodded. - What does he know of the world to make assumptions?

   - He’s sort of right. - Y/N took a place on the chair next to his. - I don’t exactly know what Mr. Forrest or you do, specifically. I don’t even know what you were up to these past weeks. 

   - It’s entirely way too boring besides I’d rather be surrounded by clueless people than the ones I’m surrounded by. You really shouldn’t worry about what he thinks of you. 

  - Do you worry what others think of you?

  - I’ve lived long enough to have certain names hauled at me. Some deserving, some undeserving but I tend not to stress about it. My mother used to say people like to talk about those they can’t be. 

  - Well, if it’s any worth .. I don’t think half the names I’ve heard given to you do actually have any truth to them. 

tag list: @lilya-petrichor @xoxohannahlee @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @nikkipea @madisonpillstrom @cevans98 @thelostallycat @sideeffectsofyou @anxiousdreamersworld​ @sarge-barnes-sir @captainchrisstan​

[hayleysstark]

I always wondered what would have happened if Merlin hadn't ducked the chair in the tavern brawl (S3 ep 4-Gwaine). A sort of delayed response like in more severe concussions. Maybe a coma or some of the other serious side effects. I'm excited to read your work.

Thank you

okay okay i would like to preface this by saying i have been fortunate enough that i’ve never experienced a delayed concussion, and all that comes with it, so this is probably not 100% medically accurate, but consider, Merlin has magic and if we can believe in magic, we can believe this is how delayed concussions work. okay?? okay. thank you. 

"What happened to your head?" Arthur asks, on the way back to Camelot, with Gwaine—passed out cold, probably still drunk, and absolutely dead to the entire world with the knife lodged firmly in his thigh—slung over his saddle. "Looks like you took a bad blow back there."

"I didn't," Merlin waves him off. It would be a lie to say the impact didn't rattle him a bit, but he's sure he'll be all right when he's had some sleep—his magic usually heals his everyday bumps and bruises in the night, and there's no reason to think it would let him down now. "I'm fine. I got lucky, he only just clipped me."

Or, well, he supposes the man only just clipped him, because he has to suppose that, because supposing is all he can really do about it, because—if he's being completely and wholly honest with himself here—he doesn't know for sure. He doesn't know what the chair did. He doesn't even know what the man with the chair did. All he knows is the moment right before—a real big muscly fellow, as Gwen would call him, with long, scraggly blond hair hanging limp and greasy around his filthy, sneering face, clutching a truly enormous wooden chair in his massive, meaty hands, and his mean, dark eyes narrowed, and locked firmly on Merlin—but that's it, that's all, that's where it cuts out, that's where it fades to black, in that tiny handful of seconds between one heartbeat and the next.

He didn't pass out.

And he knows he didn't pass out.

But he opened his eyes, and he was on the floor, with the chair some ten feet away, tipped over on its side, one of the thick legs snapped off in a shower of sharp splinters, and that's all he knows, that's all he remembers.

"Well, it is bad form to hit a girl, you know," Arthur tosses a quick, smug glance back over his shoulder, but the minute his eyes fall on Merlin, his face does a funny little spasm, and the smirk slides off his lips like water. "Merlin, you're bleeding."

Merlin hastily rubs away the wet, warm, bright red trail streaking down his temple with the edge of his jacket sleeve, until the blood smears into a dull brown stain on the thin cloth. "I'm fine. He just scraped me when he—" I suppose he just scraped me, but if he says it like that, Arthur will ask, and he's sure it'll come back to him, he's sure he'll remember, there's no need to fuss about it right now, "—head wounds bleed a lot," he says, instead, a little too quickly. "It's normal. Gaius told me."

"Gaius said that?" Arthur's wrinkled brow smooths back out. "Oh, that's all right, then." He pokes lightly at Gwaine's limp frame, sprawled slackly out in the saddle in front of him, and adds, "Reckon he'll have his hands full with this bloke, anyway."

"Yeah," Merlin nods, "I reckon he will."

As it turns out, Gaius does have his hands full with Gwaine, and Merlin feels fine, so he just doesn't bother to bring it up with the old man at all.

When he finally scrubs off the last of the dried, sticky blood still clinging to the side of his head in dark streaks, he sees the scrape runs far deeper than he thought—less of a scrape, and more of a cut, but it's fine, it's nothing, it will probably be scabbed over and well on its way to healing up in the morning—one of the many benefits of magic—so he rinses the red stains out of the clean white rags he used, and he goes to bed, and he thinks no more about it.

From the minute Merlin opens his eyes, he knows something's wrong.

The world feels wrong—uneven and off-center, like the earth's off its axis, and when he stands up, he feels almost lopsided, like a little girl's doll, too limp and loose to hold himself up, but that's nothing to the way the chamber spins and spins and spins around him, like a child's top. The cut hasn't scabbed over, and he's got what has to be the worst headache he's ever had in his entire life, with a dark, furious bruise on his brow, purple and swollen and painful.

But he hasn't got the time to wait around here for Gaius and tell him about it—he's got far too much to do today to bite his nails over a headache of all things—and anyway, his magic has never let him down before, so he's sure he'll be fine in an hour or so, it's probably just taking a bit longer because, well, a chair clipped him 'round the head, it's not so simple as a bad fall or a brutal spar with Arthur.

He doesn't bother with breakfast—he feels a bit sick, honestly—but he does take a plate up for Gwaine and check the man's leg while he's at it (one less thing for Gaius to worry about when he gets back) before he heads down to Arthur's chambers.

"You're bruised," Arthur says, the minute Merlin walks in the door, like he thinks maybe Merlin hasn't got a mirror, or a pair of eyes in his head.

"You take a hit like that to the face and see how you look," Merlin fires back, and that's the end of that.

Merlin thinks, maybe, it was a mistake to not talk to Gaius.

Merlin thinks, maybe, it was a mistake to come in to work at all today.

The everyday noise of the castle is just such a nightmare—the quiet chatter of the busy servants going about their work, the boisterous prattle of the bored guards stuck at their stations, the click and thud of high heels and heavy boots on cold marble floors and hard stone stairs, the soft clinks of the dishes down in the kitchens, it all makes his head pound like a drum, until it feels like his brain might burst with it—but the courtyard is nothing short of murder.

The sun stabs into his skull like a knife, even when he shuts his eyes and turns his head, but it's the sound that really does him in. The snorts and whines of the horses fresh from a hard ride, the clank and clang of swords and shields, the groan and grunt of the water pump as a thin, nervous maid fills up her bucket, the shouts and hollers of the knights and squires out on the training grounds.

It's all so loud, and it's all so much, and he can hardly think past the sharp shocks of pain up and down his brow, and maybe he should just tell Arthur—he knows Arthur will be fair about it, he knows Arthur is a good man, he knows Arthur will give him a few hours off to see Gaius, he knows it, but the melee is only a few days off, and Arthur needs a servant to see to him while it's going on, and it'll all go a lot smoother for him if he's got his servant, who already knows everything, his schedule and his preferences and his quirks, seeing to him until it's over.

Where Arthur strolls down the wide stone steps to say hello to Sir Oswald, Merlin stumbles—his legs feel funny, shaky and weak, and he's sure he'll trip over and fall flat on his face any moment now (and won't Arthur love that) but he makes it all the way to the ground without a single nosedive.

"—my servant, Merlin," Arthur claps a hand on Merlin's shoulder—

—and he has to bite his bottom lip to hold in a gasp, because it jostles his neck, sore and tender from where his head snapped back when the chair hit him and that—

—that—

—that can't be right, can it?

No, no, that simply can't be right, because the chair only clipped him, remember, because he was all right on the ride back to Camelot—a little dazed and a little dizzy, sure, but who wouldn't be after a blow like that?—and he was all right that night, too, nothing but the slight sting when he cleaned the cut, when the edges of the broken skin stretched with the scrub of the cloth over it. No, no, he's all right, he's fine, it didn't hit him in the face, it did not hit him full in the face, because his head would hurt a lot more if it had.

It clipped the side of his head a bit hard, that's all.

"—loves hard work," Arthur says, with another painful clap on Merlin's shoulder, and he bites back a wince this time, "so, anything you need, just give him a call."

"Believe me," Sir Oswald says seriously, "I will."

Sir Oswald is as bad as his word.

Merlin's ears ring louder than the biggest bells in the Camelot cathedral, and it feels he's got a blunt sword stuck in his skull, and he's shaking all over, dripping with sweat and shuddering with cold, and little white stars pop and pop and pop before his tired eyes, but he stays on his feet, and he finally shoulders the door open.

He hauls the heavy trunk inside.

"What took you so long?" Sir Oswald, leaning elegantly back in his chair, his dirty boots up on the table, pops a blueberry in his mouth.

"What?" Merlin rasps, because it takes him a second to really hear it, takes a second for the words to make sense to him. Everything is taking a second to make sense to him today. "It—it weighs a ton," he points out, rather fairly, in his opinion.

Sir Oswald stares coldly back at him.

"The stairs," he adds quickly, because he knows what it means when a knight looks at him like that, he knows it means if he doesn't come up with a damn good excuse, he'll be in the stocks—or in the dungeons, or tied to a whipping post—faster than he can blink. "It's seven flights." He's so exhausted, it might as well have been a thousand.

"That's very kind of you," Sir Ethan smiles at him, almost kind, so he musters up a small, tired grin of his own before he pushes himself back up on his feet—the room spins and spins and spins, like Gaius' chambers, around him, and he thinks he might really be sick, here on Sir Oswald's pristine floor—

"—but you can't leave it there."

Merlin turns—the room spins and spins and spins like Gaius' chambers, like a child's top, and his stomach churns and his head hurts. "I-I can't?" he says, uncertainly, mostly to make sure he's heard right, because everything sounds different with the funny ringing in his ears, because everything is taking a second to make sense to him lately, because the world is wrong, because the world is uneven and off-center, because the earth is off its axis.

"It's in the way," Sir Oswald jerks his chin at the trunk—which is, admittedly, very much in the way.

"Okay," Merlin nods, but it hurts, and he has to stop. "Where do you want it?"

For the first time all day, Merlin doesn't feel sick, so when he gets home, he downs an entire bowl of soup, and he thinks, maybe, he should wait for Gaius to get back, so he can tell him about his head, about how awful he feels, but he hasn't even rinsed his bowl before the door swings open, and Gwen peers inside.

"Merlin," she says, seriously, "I think you need to come with me."

Merlin follows Gwen all the way down to the tavern, where he finds Gwaine in a stupor, with a tab longer than his own leg, and a red-faced, furious barkeep.

He drags a very drunk Gwaine back home and gets him settled safely in bed where he can't hurt himself (or drink anymore) before he goes back downstairs, to a dark and empty room, and vomits up that bowl of soup.

"S-Sorry," Merlin rasps out, the next morning, as he comes into Arthur's bedchamber and puts his breakfast down—even the light little thud of the plate on the desktop makes his head ache, and he doesn't think he'll ever remember what it's like to not be dizzy ever again. "I-I know I'm late."

"Not at all," Arthur says easily.

"Um," Merlin says, blankly. Is he not late? He certainly feels late. But Arthur's not looking at him like he's late, so that must mean— "Good." He takes a small step back—his skull screams at the sudden move, but his skull screams about everything lately—and turns away to make Arthur's bed.

"You're not sick?" Arthur says, all of a sudden, out of the blue. "Unsteady? About to burst into song?"

Merlin thinks this must be one of Arthur's jokes (like how he says shut up, Merlin at least a hundred times a day, but God knows he'll get all huffy and pouty and moody if Merlin ever actually does shut up) so he doesn't say, yes, my head hurts so badly I can barely think straight anymore, and I think that chair might have hit me harder than I realized. He only pulls the blankets up higher and tucks in the edges and says, "No, why?"

Arthur snatches up a sheet of parchment off his desk, shakes it out with a soft rustle, and reads off, so loudly it makes Merlin's skull scream again, "Fourteen quarts of mead—"

Oh. Merlin's stomach drops. Oh, so that's what this is about.

"—three flagons of wine," Arthur drones on, relentless, "five quarts of cider—"

Merlin comes 'round the bed, head ducked down so the light won't hit his eyes. "I—I can explain," he says, weakly.

"—four dozen pickled eggs," Arthur never looks up from the paper in his hands, but he raises his voice even more, and Merlin has to wait until the pain—so sharp he sees the white stars again—dulls down enough to let him talk.

"That was Gwaine," he says finally, and a little shakily. "He went to the tavern, and he couldn't pay for it."

"So you said I would," Arthur says, in a huffy sort of tone that leaves no doubt as to his opinion on this decision.

"You know, if I hadn't," Merlin says, quickly, but he can already tell Arthur is well past listening, "th-that innkeeper, he would have strung us both up."

"I fail to see the downside," Arthur says harshly—which feels, just now, tremendously unfair, so Merlin fires back with the first thing he can think of.

"You said he should be given anything he needs."

"Four dozen pickled eggs?" Arthur wails, incredulously.

Merlin squeezes his eyes shut and swallows back a wince. "I'm sorry," he says and, before he can stop himself, before he can really think about it, before he can tell himself to shut up, to have some sense, to stop making absurd and impulsive promises he knows he can't possibly keep, he adds, "I'll pay for it."

Arthur sits up in his chair and flings the paper back down on the desk with another soft rustle. "You most certainly will."

Well, on the bright side, Merlin has to admit, it could be far worse than a few hundred pairs of filthy boots.

Gwaine disagrees. "Arthur is a thoroughbred little braggart."

Merlin has to swallow back a laugh—if only his head didn't hurt so much, he's sure he wouldn't mind the work at all, now he's got Gwaine here to crack his usual jokes. "Why?"

Gwaine peers down at the boot in his lap like he thinks the tough, cracked leather will tell him what he's supposed to do with it. Hasn't he ever cleaned his own boots? "For making us do this."

Merlin shrugs—it's easy work, even if it is, admittedly, a touch tedious, certainly repetitive, and hopelessly mundane, and it's a far lighter load than he expected in the face of Arthur's fury this morning. "I think it's fair."

Gwaine throws him an incredulous look and jabs a finger at the endless line of grimy boots stretched out ahead of them. "For the entire army?"

Merlin clicks his tongue. "If you admitted your father was a knight, you wouldn't have to."

Gwaine tosses his head to get his shaggy hair out of his eyes. "Maybe," he concedes with a little huff, "but I'm not making the same mistakes that he did." He runs the brush lightly over the boot—oh, so he does know how to do it, and thank God, Merlin thought he really might have to teach the poor man—and a bit of dried mud crumbles off and floats down to the wood floor below.

Merlin turns back to his own work without a word—he's not going to push it—and the quiet swish of the soft brush on the dirty leather is a faint but familiar music to his ears.

"How's your head?" Gwaine asks, finally, with a quick glance over at Merlin. "Looks pretty bad to me."

"It's fine," Merlin says, and he's not sure what shuts him up, what holds him back, what makes him say it's fine when he's almost certain he's never felt less fine in his life, but there's simply nothing else for it—he has to be here for Arthur until the melee is over, so there's no point in whining or moaning about it when he's got no choice but to grit his teeth and get on with it, anyway. "I'm fine."

Merlin isn't sure what makes him pull back the red silken cloth on the table—he's only here to take the dinner plates back to the kitchens—but he pulls back the cloth, and the glint of the swords beneath fascinates him, in a way swords have never fascinated him before. The cold gleam of steel is murder on his throbbing head, but it's like he can't look away, and before he knows it, he's picked them up, the hilts cool and heavy in his hands, and he stares and he stares and he stares.

He's not sure what's wrong with him. It feels like his mind is moving too slowly, all of a sudden, like a hand has ripped his skull open, and poured thick, sticky syrup inside, gumming up his brain until he can't think straight, until he can hardly think at all, and it takes him far too long to remember he's only here to pick up the dirty plates, he shouldn't be playing with the swords, he has to put them down and get on with it and—

—and the blunt blade slips, and cuts him, much deeper than a blunt blade should.

He stares at the blood on the tip of his finger, bright and thick and red—

"What are you doing with that, boy?"

He whirls around—he knows he shouldn't, he knows it will only make his head hurt, and it makes him look guilty besides, like he's doing something he shouldn't, like he's doing something he knows he shouldn't— "Uh," the sword slips from his slack fingers, and he presses his bleeding hand, on reflex, into his chest, so the knights can't see the cut, but—but why's it is so important that the knights can't see—? "I-I was just tidying—"

"Keep away from things that don't concern you," Sir Oswald snaps, sharp and cold as the sword at Merlin's feet, and his eyes like ice as he glares, and for the first time since he met the man, Merlin feels the tiniest thrill of fear.

He gathers up the plates, and he leaves, and he's much happier than he should be, to get away from Sir Oswald.

Merlin tells Gaius about the sword.

It takes him the entire walk down to the kitchens, and the entire walk back to his chamber, to work out what the knights want with blunted-sharp blades, and that feels unbelievably, embarrassingly long, and he's sure if this horrible headache would just go away, he could think much clearer, he's sure if he could just stop stumbling and tripping, if the world would stop tilting, if those white stars would stop popping—

So Merlin tells Gaius about the sword—or, he means to tell Gaius about the sword, but the minute the old man sees him, he lets out a little gasp, steers him over to the nearest cot, and pushes him down onto it, and Merlin is far too tired to fight him on it.

"What happened to your head?" Gaius demands at once.

Oh. Oh, that's right, isn't it, Gaius hasn't seen him in days—the old man is always out when he gets home at night, and he's just too tired lately to wait up the way he usually does. He rubs lightly at his temple, where the pain burns hottest, with a little wince, before he forces himself to shake his head, to shove it down. "It's nothing," he says, and he tries to sound firm about it, too, but his voice sounds slow and slurred and small in his ears, "it's nothing, I'm fine—listen, I was in Sir Oswald's chambers just now, and I—"

"Merlin," Gaius says sharply, "what's happened to your head?"

"Yeah, I'm no physician," Gwaine tosses out, from his spot on the bottommost step in the dark, narrow stairway, "but you really don't look so good, mate, you should get yourself checked over."

Merlin throws him a glare.

Gwaine stares back, entirely unrepentant.

Gaius raises his brow.

"Okay, fine, I-I hit my head," Merlin concedes, because he knows he can steer the talk back around to the sword much quicker if he gives a bit of ground here, "in that fight in the tavern, but it's not important, it doesn't matter—I have something to tell—"

"The fight in the tavern?" Gaius echoes, like he hasn't heard about that already, like Merlin and Arthur didn't fill him in when they brought Gwaine to him, except they did. "Merlin, that was days ago!"

"It's fine," Merlin says, again, except he sounds worse than ever, weak and wavery, and he balls his hands up in fists on his knees so Gaius won't see he's shaking, "it's not a big deal, it doesn't matter, it'll heal up soon, I'm sure the chair didn't even hit me that—"

"The chair?" Gaius' brow has never jumped so high so fast.

"The chair?" Gwaine squawks and leaps up off the stairs.

Merlin realizes far too late that he's said far too much. "It doesn't matter, it was just—" he shakes his head, "—some madman chucked a chair at me, all right, but some other madman is going to—"

"A chair?" Gaius says, again, his pale eyes very wide. "Merlin, you could have died from a blow like that! Why didn't you come to me and—?"

"Please, Gaius!" Merlin blinks against the sudden burn of furious tears behind his eyes. "Please, listen to me, this is important. Sir Oswald's using a trick sword! He means to murder Arthur in the melee!"

And Merlin has never, ever been more grateful for the old man in his entire life, because Gaius listens. He sits up, a bit straighter, on his stool, and he drops his withered white hand back into his lap—out of the corner of his eye, Merlin can see Gwaine edging a bit nearer—

"All right," Gaius says at last. "All right, Merlin. Tell me everything. But let me have a look at your head while you're here."

Oh, thank God. Merlin drags in a shaky little breath of relief, and hastily gabbles it all out as quickly as he can. "H-He's got a sword in his chambers, and to the eye, it appeared—" it takes him too long to come up with the word, because thinking too hard makes his head pound, "—blunt—but when I touched it…" he holds up his bleeding finger for Gaius to see.

The old man clicks his tongue. Like it's Merlin's fault he thought a blunt sword wouldn't cut him.

"Trick sword?" Gwaine frowns. "Then you were lucky it was just your hand. I've seen those blades in action. They're forged using sorcery."

Gaius lets go of Merlin's hand and stands up to prod at his bruised head again instead. "But what would they want with such a blade?"

"To kill Arthur," Merlin says, because it's obvious, now that he's finally realized it. "In the melee."

"But in front of all those people?" Gaius says, doubtfully, his brows pinched, and he presses his finger lightly to Merlin's temple.

"—perfect cover—" Gwaine's voice, quiet and loud and quiet again, rings suddenly through the room, "—nobody will suspect—"

"I-I need to warn Arthur," Merlin pulls back from Gaius' touch with a little wince, and hegets up, but he is so dizzy, and so tired, that the minute he's on his feet, he crashes right back down to the cot in mere moments.

"Not so fast, Merlin," Gaius says grimly, like Merlin was making any great leaps and bounds to the door, "—bad shape—no fit state to—"

"—I-I've got to!" Merlin tries to stand up again, but it's so hard, and his head feels so heavy— "—I've got to—I've got to tell Arthur—"

"Sir Oswald's a knight—from a well-respected family—" Gaius says, "—good friend to Arthur—can't accuse him without proof—"

"—then—" a sudden shock of pain pulses through his head, and Merlin rubs at his brow, "—then I need to—to get the sword from Sir Oswald—"

"No, Merlin, absolutely not—completely ridiculous—no fit state, as I said—a chair to the head, and you still—foolish boy—" Gaius' voice goes quiet and loud and quiet again, too, like Merlin's slipping in and out of deep, dark water, over and under the rolling black tide of pain.

"I'll get it," Gwaine says, suddenly. "I'll get it, Gaius."

And the last thing Merlin hears—before the stars flare up in front of his eyes again, big bright bursts, radiant and blinding and almost beautiful, before he slumps down sideways onto the cot, and passes out—is the quiet creak of Gaius' door, and the thud of Gwaine's boots as he leaves the room.

Merlin wakes up slowly.

The room is dark. The windows are shut, the curtains pulled tight over the dirty glass, and the candles on the table burn low.

It's cold. Gaius has taken his jacket from him while he slept—he can see the rough brown cloth flung over the back of the nearest chair—and his shirt is wrinkled from where he slept on it. He's not sure he wants to go to all the hassle of straightening it.

He still feels funny—fuzzy and bleary, like he's lost in a thick fog, like he's looking out at the world through dirty glass, like he's looking out at the world through a dark veil—but there's only the barest ache at the back of his skull, and when he opens his eyes, the room only slopes a little to the left.

He's still so exhausted, and he already wants to go back to sleep, but he can't go back to sleep—he's supposed to be with Arthur right now, or he's supposed to be doing something for Arthur, isn't he? Isn't that right? Hasn't he got something to do for Arthur? Hasn't he got something really important to do for Arthur? Isn't there something really bad he can't let happen to Arthur—?

It hits him in a cold shock of ice, and he bolts upright in the bed. "Sir Oswald."

"Merlin!" And, all of a sudden, out of the blue, utterly inexplicably, Arthur is there, his hands on Merlin's wrists, gentle but firm, his brow pinched, his face pale. "For God's sake, you idiot, lie back—!"

"S-Sir Oswald," Merlin gasps, breathless, frantic, "he's got a—a sword, and it—it looks blunt, but it's actually—"

"Merlin," Arthur says, sharper now, and he shoves Merlin back down to the bed, hard, "for God's sake, stop being an imbecile. Everything's all right, Gwaine showed me the sword, Sir Oswald's been dealt with."

Merlin almost doesn't believe it, but he can't think what would make Arthur lie to him, either. "H-Has he?"

"Yes." Arthur's blue eyes darken. "And it wasn't Sir Oswald. It was that thug from the tavern, Dagger."

"Oh." Merlin slumps down a little deeper into the pillows—now that he knows Arthur's not in danger, he's sorely tempted to go back to sleep again.

"Wonder if Dagger was the one," Arthur says, in that casual sort of voice that means he's actually seething with sheer rage, "who threw a chair at your head in the fight."

There it is.

Merlin winces. "Look, Arthur, I—"

"You know, there's one thing I'm a bit curious about," Arthur cuts him off, talking deliberately louder than he needs to. "Are you really stupid enough to think you can take a chair to the face and just walk 'round like nothing happened?"

Merlin flushes. "I thought I was all right, I-I felt all right—"

"You don't just take a chair to the face and feel all right!"

"Well, I did." Merlin feels he has to point this out, if only to see if it will finally shut Arthur up.

"Well, that's not normal!"

Apparently not. Merlin rolls his eyes. "What are you doing here, anyway? Haven't you got the melee to worry about?"

Arthur waves him off with an impatient little flick of his hand. "The melee's over."

"Over?" Merlin echoes incredulously, and he looks at once to the window, but it's still shut, and the only light in the room is the faint glow of the candles, so he whips back around to face Arthur. "H-How long have I been asleep?"

Arthur shrugs. "About five days. Give or take."

"Five days?"

"Well," Arthur says, in a rather sanctimonious sort of way, "that's what happens when you take a chair to the face and walk 'round like nothing—"

"Whatever," Merlin says, and it makes him feel sixteen all over again. "So," he adds, quickly, "so, the melee's over with, and Sir Oswald—Dagger," he corrects himself, "is gone?"

Arthur nods. "Dead. My father had them hanged for attempted treason and, once the life left them, the sorcery wore off, and their true faces were revealed."

"Right," Merlin says. It's rather hard to feel sorry for the brutes. "Right. Good." He nods, and he's surprised it doesn't make his head hurt. "How's Gwaine?"

The corner of Arthur's mouth ticks up in a small smile. "Highly offended. My father's just tried to give him a reward for his part in all this."

Merlin laughs. It's hard not to—he can already see Gwaine's outraged face in his mind. "He hasn't got much love for nobles."

"So I gathered," Arthur says peevishly.

"Well, you can't blame him," Merlin says fairly. "Hard to like nobles when they're all arrogant, supercilious prats—"

Arthur yanks one of the pillows out from behind Merlin's head and stuffs it in his face. "Shut up, Merlin."

The door creaks open and Gaius shuffles in. Merlin hastily peels the pillow away from his nose and mouth.

"Merlin!" Gaius tears the empty basket off his arm and tosses it onto the nearest chair before he hurries over to the bed. "You're awake!" He grabs Merlin's wrist to feel the pulse there. "Any pain? Nausea? Dizziness?"

"No," Merlin says, truthfully, "no, I'm fine."

Gaius' eyebrow creeps up an inch or so.

"Just tired," Merlin admits, a bit sullenly.

Gaius nods. "Right, then, that's good. Thank you for staying with him, Sire," he adds, over his shoulder to Arthur. "You may leave now."

"Of course, Gaius," Arthur nods and gets up on his feet, stretching his arms over his head. When the old man turns away to pull a few glass bottles down off a higher shelf, Arthur leans in and adds, in a low whisper, "Don't run into any more chairs while I'm gone. You really haven't got the brains to lose, you know."

And, with a light little pat to Merlin's shoulder, he's out the door.

[guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom]

The Zone

Peter Parker x bisexual!reader

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Peter Parker x black!reader

Peter Parker x villain!reader 

Warnings: Mentions of violence, bruising, allusions to corrupt government, drug use, underage drinking, knives, mentions of neo-nazis, bad eating and sleeping habits, a mention of sex, mentions of death and the dead. 

Word Count: 3.7k

Songs: Changes- Charles Bradley, 4 Morant- Doja Cat, Prey-  The Neighborhood, Stay Together- Noah Cyrus, Without me- Eminem, Colors- Halsey, Where’s My Juul??-Full Tac, Pork Soda-Glass Animals, Everyday- A$AP Rocky, Facts- Kanye West,  Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?, Immortal- J.Cole, High Enough- K,Flay, Drugs- UPSAHL.

A/N: This is pretty short but it’s also the fasest I’ve released a chapter after the other was released.

Series Masterlist   Previous Part   Next Part

I smashed the keypad multiple times with the handle of a knife before the metal finally fell. I pulled all the wires out before hearing the words ‘System Malfunction’. 

If I hadn’t disarmed the alarm system already. I’d probably be worried right about now. I manually slid open the cell door. 

That’s when she glanced up at me.

“Took you look enough,” She smirked. 

“I could’ve gotten you out sooner if you didn’t get your ass locked up in solitary,” I tossed her the Black Cat suit. 

“You know I still don’t know your name or what you look like,” She stated pulling the suit up “and I don’t think that's fair seeing as you know those things about me,” She cooed. 

I pulled my mask over my face “It’s Y/N. Happy now?” 

“Wow I always knew your voice sounded attractive, matches the face,” 

“Okay, we can kiss my ass later but now we have about 2 minutes to get out before the guards come and get us,” 

Leaving the building the same way I came in through the vent. You’d think they’d have better security. I was thankful they didn’t when we finally reached the car. 

“Who’s car is this?” Felicia asked hopping in the passenger seat. 

“Dunno,” I said, putting the car in the drive. 

“Hold on tight,” I warned before ramming into the fence at full speed successfully knocking it down. 

I was definitely not holding my breath that whole time. And I definitely was not doubting myself. Okay maybe I was, a little.

“I’m surprised that actually worked, none of this was planned at all,” I laughed in relief.

She laughed along with me 

“Plans are for the ‘good guys’, if you’re smart enough you don’t need plans,” 

“If that’s not the truth,” I replied turning onto a deserted road “You owe me again, I’m not counting, but I believe the score’s 3:1,” 

She was right, you never need a plan. Second moral to the story is that even “villains” never work alone. I know I always talk that “every man for themselves” mess but everyone needs a support team. And for people who supposedly have no morals they haven’t betrayed me yet. 

There are the bad guys and then there are the bad guys. The heroes didn’t seem to care which you were, they just wanted you locked up or dead and to get all the glory for it. I think it’s time one of us gets the glory.

“Ow!” I exclaimed, pulling myself out of my thoughts. 

“Sorry,” Olivia muttered, “You need to be still,” She said, dabbing a cloth on my leg. 

“Well it’s hard to be still when your leg is burning,” 

I was expecting some jab or joke like normal but it was silent. She looked up at me and I could see the tears forming in her eyes. 

“Y/N…” Her eyes drifted over my bruised and cut up body, her voice breaking. 

“You don’t have to worry about me, I promise I’m fine,” 

“How am I supposed to believe that when you won’t tell me anything?”

“I don’t tell you anything cause then you’d worry,” 

“Well I’m already worried!” 

The next day of school was very ordinary. Well as ordinary as it got when you were a kid who was wanted in multiple cities. My body wasn’t as sore as it was the day before, the bruises were clearing up, but honestly these new weapons were no joke. I’d seen them burn straight through buildings and a ferry now. Anyways like I was saying before today was ordinary, nothing exciting unfortunately. 

Rich kids in Queens take homecoming a little too seriously. For the most part, I’m not complaining penthouse parties were fun. Rich white kids love their molly. 

Harry Osborn was one of those rich kids. If we’re being honest I feel like he does coke on occasion. I don’t think he actually liked homecoming all that much seeing as he’s pretty new to our school. I just think he likes being able to brag about his parties and get wasted at parties. 

One of those parties would be the one I was getting ready for right now. 

Olivia walked into the bathroom and stood in the doorway. This bathroom was very modern as well as the whole house. Like an art gallery.

“Hey kitten,” I said since she wasn’t going to say anything. 

“Hey,” 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” I asked.

“You know how I feel about Harry’s parties,” 

That I did, her dad and Harry’s dad seemed to have some sort of beef. That I didn’t care enough to get into. But Olivia's family took it pretty seriously. I guess I could say Felicia and Olivia’s family. It’s still weird to see them as siblings. It’s not surprising, just weird. Just a weird family of kleptomaniacs. 

This isn’t something I say often but I looked really hot. Like really fucking hot. I had even winged eyeliner. A nice black tube top. A pastel pink tennis skirt. I had black thong type thing on, you could see the thin straps resting on my waist from above the skirt. It wasn’t like I was trying to get fucked or anything because I was not planning on being the slightest bit of sober. 

I also had thigh high socks on but only because they could conceal a knife and I’d been on high alert lately. Just because I wasn’t going to be sober didn’t mean I couldn’t protect myself. It's a sort of muscle memory when it comes to knives, at least with me 

If I wore this anywhere near the kids at my old school they’d probably call me a wannabe white girl, but those kids aren’t there and they have no part of my life anymore. 

I just wanted to get so fucked up that I couldn’t think at all. 

I couldn’t help but think. That’s all I could do lately. My brain wouldn’t slow down to let me breathe for even one second. I just wanted to breathe and go to bed. I still can’t sleep. At least now I have a valid reason. I don’t like talking about it because it’s not a big deal or anything, but today is the anniversary of-. It’s the day Rose died. No use sugarcoating it. It passes every year, no use being in my feels about it. Couldn’t help it though, every year I’d get sad about it for about 5 minutes until I did so many drugs that I couldn’t blink. 

As soon I stepped into the house. I was hit with the buzz I hadn’t felt in a while. I missed it too. It wasn’t like Liz’s “party” her thing could’ve been fun but the whole headache, Vulture thing and lack of drugs made it suck. 

Anyways who cares about that. I’d been at this school long enough to know who had molly. I’d either have to flirt with them or pay which I was down for either. 

See I knew the chewlery gem rod I had attached to a necklace would come in handy one of these days. Now I wouldn’t bite my mouth. 

Only problem is I could still think.  Which wasn’t good. There was some sort of jungle juice on the table but I just went straight for a bottle of beer sitting on the counter, because I was shaking too much to pour anything. 

Beer has to be the nastiest form of alcohol out there. It looks like pee, tastes like pee, it’s like they didn’t bother trying to mask the taste of yeast in it. 

My body was vibrating in a good way as I started talking to people. By the time I’d made small talk with the third person around me. I’d finished the beer and I went back to the kitchen to fill a cup with some form of alcohol and soda I wasn’t picky. Harry must’ve had the same idea. 

“Hey,” He said. 

“Hey, where’s your groupie,” I said referring to the blonde that’d I seen around him earlier. 

“You mean Gwen?” He said, bringing a solo cup to his lips. 

“Probably,” I moved over grabbing the orange soda next to me. 

“Why’re you wondering, jealous?” He asked being his signature flirtatious self. There was this one time that we… you know. But we were both drunk so it doesn’t count. 

“You wish I was jealous,” I rolled my eyes “We both know you're the one obsessed with me,” I laughed. 

“Yep, dream about you every night,” He joked back. 

I took a sip from my drink squinting as it slightly burned my throat. 

“I’m sure you do,” I headed out of the kitchen. 

I could feel my brain slowing down as I started to calm. That was until Facts by Kanye came on. Then suddenly it felt like my blood was boiling in my veins and I couldn’t breathe and not in the good way. I made my way to the nearest bathroom and hoped no one was making out in there. 

I opened the door and the coast was clear. 

I splashed water on my face. When I looked in the mirror my pupils were dilated and my face was flush. Normally my skin tone masked the effects of blushing but not this time.

 I wasn’t drunk. Maybe I was but I wasn’t enough. I was still laying on the bathroom floor because it was cold and felt good in contrast against my hot skin. I was going through my phone and landed on Peter’s number. I texted him because I was bored and I can text whoever I want. 

you: helo 

About thirty seconds later he responded, guess he was already on his phone. 

P 😜🤚: Hey 

you: do yuo like pengwings

pengns 

fck 

penguns 

penguins 

He read the messages and responded rather quickly 

P 😜🤚: ? 

You okay? 

you: yesh im fine d you like penfuins 

P 😜🤚: Are you drunk 

you: no im nt drunk i m jst hPpy 

P 😜🤚: yeah sure, where are you. 

Before I could think, I clicked the option to send location. Even if I did think it wouldn’t have done much help. None of my thoughts were coherent. I was actually happy, like really really happy. 

I was still laying on the ground when I felt the floor vibrate with the knock at the door. 

“Who is it?” I asked. 

“Peter,” The voice called out

“Come in!” I said in a sing-songy voice. 

He opened the door slowly and looked around before looking down at me. 

“Hiii,” 

“Hey, what are you doing on the floor,” 

I shrugged after slowly pushing off the floor so I wouldn’t lose balance.

“How’d you get here?” Since I know he couldn’t drive. 

“I got an Uber,” 

“That’s adorable,” 

“What’s adorable,” 

“You, you spent money on a ride just to come see me,” I pointed out, voice cracking halfway through the sentence as tears started to well in my eyes. 

 “Wait don’t cry, I’m sorry, did I do something? If I did sorry for whatever it was-” 

“No you didn’t do anything, it’s just me,” I moved a hand off the counter I was holding onto for balance before wiping my face. I don’t cry, at least not willingly and definitely not in front of anyone else.

“Well I was going to…” He fiddled with his hands before continuing “I was going to ask if you needed a ride because I didn’t know if you drove here or not and you’re clearly drunk-“

“I’m not drunk!” I said. “I don’t drink how could I be drunk,” 

“Okay, but like I was saying do you need a ride?” 

I was going to say I didn’t want to leave yet but it’s not like I was doing anything but being pathetic and hanging out in the bathroom. 

“Fine, yeah” 

Peter opened his mouth like he was about to say something but a knock on the door interrupted. I immediately opened the door and grabbed Peter’s wrist running, for no reason except I felt like it. I bumped into a couple doorways 

By the time we’d made it out by the pool Peter was hunched over trying to catch his breath. 

I started running toward the water and I could hear a faint 

“Y/N don't!” As I was running but it was too late seeing as I was already in the water. I laughed as I broke the surface as I floated on my back. 

Peter came over to the edge of the water and squatted down. 

“Y/N” 

“And nothing hurts anymore I feel kinda free!” I sang splashing around in the pool. 

“Y/N” 

“We're still the kids we used to be,” 

“Y/N!” Peter yelled, snapping my attention back to him. 

“Hmm?” I asked. 

“You need to get out the pool,” 

“I don’t wanna,” I whined. 

“Yeah I know but don’t you wanna go home?” He asked. 

The last place I’d ever want to go is “home” 

“No, get in the pool,” 

“Y/N,” He said sternly. 

“Pleaseee,” 

“Get out the pool it’s cold you’re gonna get sick,”

“Fine…” I made my way begrudgingly to the steps of the pool. 

Peter gave me the hoodie he was wearing so I was able to take my skirt and socks off. I put the knife I had in the hoodie pocket. 

The last thing I remember is getting in some car. 

Oh shit 

I woke up in a room that I did not recognize. I swear to God if I got kidnapped again. I sat up quickly and hit my head on something. It was dark but there was a nightlight. Thank God if we’re being honest I’m scared of the dark. Long story I don’t wanna get into it.

I was definitely hungover, headache prominent. It only worsened when I stepped out the room and the light from the TV hit my eyes. I glanced over to Peter laying on the couch. 

Oh yeah I forgot about that. 

“Hey…” I whispered. He shifted a bit “You awake?” 

He sat up and looked at me rubbing his eyes before bombarding me with questions. 

“Did you- Are you okay? Does your head hurt? Do you need painkillers? Sorry that I brought you here and didn’t ask. That's really creepy but you were asleep and I didn’t want to wake you because you seemed tired. Again sorry it’s just I didn’t really even know where you lived and I was-“

“Oh my God, shut up!” I interrupted. 

He looked stunned, blinking a few times. 

“Sorry,” I held my hand to my forehead in exasperation. “Sorry, it’s just you- you were making my head hurt.” 

“Oh I’m sorry,”

“No, I promise it’s not you, if it’s okay with you can I go back to sleep? I don’t really feel like going home right now,” 

“Yes of course you can!” He sat up and pushed the blanket off of him before standing. “Wait I’ll be right back,” He said. I nodded before hesitantly sitting down on the couch. 

He came back rather quickly with a glass of water and some painkillers. I mumbled a quick thank you before taking them. 

I yawned, surprised that I was able to actually feel tired. Normally it took at least a few hours before I could sleep if I even got the chance. 

“You can take the bed,” Peter informed. 

“I just wanna stay right here,” I said lazily. 

He tried to scoot over but I already had my arms wrapped around him so I squeezed him tighter. I looked up and his face was tinted red, smiling before I drifted off. 

I felt light hit my face and I heard the squeak of a door. I sat up and slowly unwrapped my arms from around Peter. Walking over towards May. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t know if it was okay for me to stay here I should’ve called and asked,”

“No, no it’s perfectly fine,” 

“Okay…”

“He talks about you all the time you know,”

I smiled at her and she smiled back.

“Thanks for not killing me for being in your house,” I joked. “But I should probably get home anyway,” 

I didn’t go home. Mostly because I don’t have an actual home. I didn’t go to any of the almost 13 places I’ve stayed at, at some point either. I went to some shitty hotel. I had enough money to stay for about a week. Which was great I could stay for all of homecoming week then I’d have to find somewhere else to stay before I got more money at least. 

The last step for this day was go to Olivia’s house and get my stuff back. I made my way into the house through the back door, and sure enough she was sitting on the couch like parents in movies when they catch you sneaking out.

She eyed the bag in my hand.

“So you’re leaving?”

“I-“ I didn’t get the chance to speak.

“And you weren’t going to tell me, oh okay,” 

“Olivia…” 

“Where are you gonna stay?”

“I’m going back to my grandma's house,” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, again I’m sorry that I tried to leave without telling you I just-“

“Didn’t want to be interrogated?” 

“Yeah…”

”It’s okay, I get it, come give me a hug,”

I moved giving her a hug and she mumbled 

“You smell like booze,” 

As soon as I got back to the hotel I turned on the movie Frozen. Which I knew was a bad idea because the movie always made me cry. 

I ended up crying myself to sleep and by the time I woke up I was late for school. I slept for 18 hours straight.  

If I was going to be late might as well have had a reason. So, I got smoothies. 

“I love smoothies a lot, but banana is so so strong. Which like makes it pointless to put anything else in it. People should stop saying strawberry and banana smoothie because in reality it’s a BANANA and strawberry smoothie,” I took another sip of my smoothie.

“Damn bitch, you’re saying a lot and fast what’d they put in that smoothie,” Bri said examining the cup before turning to me again “And can I have some?” I laughed before lighty shoving her shoulder. 

“Noo! Continue talking you were my reference for my excitement portrait,” MJ said flipping her sketchbook towards me “I’ve missed my one and only chance to see you happy,” 

“Now I know you’re not talking, I don’t think anyone has seen you smile ever,”

I slid down the bench of the lunch table 

“Whatcha watching Phineas?” I asked Peter. He quickly swiped out the app. “Was it porn?”

“No! Wha- What?” 

I patted his shoulder “Relax dude, I was just messing with you,” 

That was the last I’d spoken to any of my friends. In all actuality that was the last time I’d spoken to anyone besides the hotel staff. I hadn’t been to school since...what’s today? Wednesday. Well then I hadn’t been to school since 3 days ago. Which also means I haven’t eaten since a week ago? 

Okay I know how bad that sounds but it’s not like I’ve been eating nothing. I just haven’t been hungry lately, I have had snacks though like goldfish and chips. I’ve just been too lazy to cook and don’t have the funds to cook. I’ve also been too lazy to fake a smile or whatever so I just haven’t been going to school. 

However what I have been and haven’t been eating is the issue of concern here. It’s that alien shit from the Avengers a few years ago is so much deeper than anyone could have ever thought. I’d been in research mode for a while now. I call it the zone, anything you say to me will go unheard, I mean business when I’m in the zone. If I want something to happen it will. 

“Okay so, I’ll start with the government flash drive. So the aliens that attacked a while back in 2012 were called Chitauri. So Loki had control of them and was using them as an army. Loki being Thor’s brother and the God of mischief,” I clarified. 

''And Loki was attacking because he wanted to be king but his brother was king instead. I mean I think, I don’t really get that part. So there was this thing called the tesseract and it’s supposedly like super powerful. This branch of government called Shield doesn’t want Loki to have this so they keep, then the invasion ensues. This tesseract however is some space stone and Loki used it to bring in the aliens. It’s some sort of infinity stone whatever that means. Howard Stark found the stone in the ocean, because a Stark is always gonna be the one to fuck the world up when they think they’re helping. Then he and someone else founded Project Pegasus-” 

“What’s project Pegasus?”

“I don’t really know but I know it stands for potential energy group alternate sources,”

“Oh, so it’s Shield that’s over this… Tesseract?”

“Exactly!” I clapped and the papers with all the information I printed from the flash drive rustled underneath me. 

“What are you going on about?” Carmen asked. “Like what’s the bigger picture?” 

“That’s the thing! I don’t know, this is like so covered up and coded that I can’t figure it out with information that I have,” I turned towards her “But I will, and that’s where your help comes in,”

“Y/N, when’s the last time you slept?” She tilted her head like those dogs in Minecraft when you have food. 

“Last night,” I waved her off. 

I looked down at the information I was able to find out about Kingpin since he was mentioned in the video my mom made for me. Apparently she worked for him for a while. So did Felicia but all she’d ever tell me was “He was an ass he did give me a gift I’m grateful for though,”. He had affiliations with everyone. 

From what Black Widow released out unto the world he had connections with a Neo Nazi group called HYDRA which brainwashed people from what’ve heard. 

Before I’d just wanted to take down the Vulture out of pettiness if we’re being honest, but now. Oh now? I knew I’d have to. 

Another paper I’d printed from Kingpin’s affiliations caught my eye. 

“Hey Carmen,”

“Hm?”

“Ever been to Vegas?” 

Taglist:

@tomdiddlyumptious

[kariachi]

Some Gwen and Argit and morals and necromancy and somebody let this poor girl retire.

~~

“So,” Gwen asked as she watched the Kinecelerans who’d passed her on her way in exit Argitstix’s gates at a relatively leisurely pace, most likely due to the fresh cast on the child’s arm, “how much did you charge them?”  Argit didn’t look up at her, focused on cleaning up the mess from the visit- according to Kevin he only trusted the two of them to do so, not even allowing his robots access to his supplies- though his ear swiveled towards her.

“Well I considered asking for a bolt of fabric, since the couch needs reupholstering, but that seemed steep for the job and Kevin’s birthday is coming up, so she’s gonna bring by some tarts for that.” Eyes narrowing, Gwen gave him a Look.

“You’re charging them in desserts.”

“Yeah.” Okay, maybe her point hadn’t gotten across.

“You’re charging them in desserts.” He huffed and rolled his eyes.

“I know you think I wake up every day with nothing on my mind but how much money can I make in the most horrible, puppy-kicking way possible, but I do have morals.”

“Argit, you are one of the biggest capitalists I know.”

“I’m also an Erinaen and healthcare is- Necromancy-” His face twisted in thought before he finally rattled off something Gwen didn’t understand in his native tongue. Sharp and snapping, harsher on her ear than what his tone suggested. “You don’t put someone out to heal them. Some dude making a million dollars a year comes in needing help with a busted wrist? Yeah I’ll charge him somewhere in the thousands, he can afford it easy. But that?” He gestured towards the door. “Woman with kittens at home brings in one with a broken arm? I’m not charging money for that. Three tarts at the end of next month, perfectly reasonable request, especially for a Kineceleran.”

He huffed a bit, at that point, and muttered something in Erinaen again, this time under his breath. The tone and way he snapped his teeth suggested he was judging the local culture. Again. Tutting at western humans seemed to be one of his favorite hobbies. Gwen crossed her arms and took a seat, still looking at him with suspicion and mild contempt.

“So war profiteering is okay, but charging for healthcare isn’t.”

“There is a big difference between charging people for the ability to kill each other and charging people for the ability to not die.” She really didn’t know how to respond to that. There were no words that graced her brain to explain why selling weapons to soldiers at war was, in fact, a horrible thing to do, to somebody who clearly felt this was, at most, a minor sin. A part of her wondered where he placed it on a scale from ‘jaywalking’ to, apparently ‘charging more than a pittance for healthcare’.

It only made it worse that she agreed with him on the healthcare thing.

She hated agreeing with him.

“You are a horrible person,” she settled on, only for him to snort.

“Oh Red, I could be so much worse. Ma’s ma? Has been keeping enslaved thralls since before we touched the stars, has started an unknown number of wars for fun, and views the likes of Vilgax and Ma Vreedle as quaint children at play. And you know what?” He turned to her now, with a sharp grin. “She’d have charged that ma three tarts to fix her kitten’s arm.”

Gwen blinked, processing this information. She hadn’t heard of anyone like this, but then, would she have? This was the first she’d heard Argit talk at all about any of his relatives, and the research she did was normally with regards to things that were relevant at the time. How much did she know about the evils that didn’t come start trouble on Earth? Either way, the idea that somewhere out there was someone with the same magic Argit was using more and more openly, who looked at Vilgax like Gwen herself would look at a little boy playing tag, was terrifying.

“You’re the white sheep of your family.” She was going to have to go lie down…

“Yep,” Argit replied, setting his tools in the room’s sink to be cleaned, “and trust me, it’s a scarier thought from this end.” He looked her over briefly, then crossed the room, taking her arm and leading her off the chair and towards the door. “Come on, let’s get you some tea.”

“That would be appreciated.”

[klausplease]

Shakira and Lip Gloss

Requested By: Anonymous

Prompt: Hey I was wondering if you could write a fic where Klaus’s or Diego's s/o comes out as genderfluid and they’re really scared and nervous because their family isn’t very accepting and it’s kind of been put into their head that it’s wrong not to be their birth gender but Klaus or Diego tells them its ok and they're not doing anything wrong by being who they are and its just really angsty and fluffy?

Post Info: Genderfluid reader, AMAB. Mentions of transphobia. Light angst.

A/N: I’m... not sure this is what you wanted. But I tried.

~

Diego was concerned about (y/n). He hadn’t seen him all day, even though Saturdays were usually when he came over to the Hargreeves household. He wasn’t jealous about the fact that Klaus and his boyfriend had a standing date, when he still had to schedule time with him. He wasn’t. He was just a little miffed that the two spent so much time together. Without him. Doing ‘secret things’, as Klaus had told him when he asked.

But (y/n) wasn’t at the mansion today, as evidenced by the fact that he was practically being attacked by a very angry Klaus.

“What did you do, you moron?” Klaus asked, apropos of nothing.

Diego shot Klaus a look. “I do a lot of things Klaus, several of which you seem to find moronic. You’ll have to be more specific.”

“(Y/n) hasn’t come for our weekly cult meeting and I am laying full responsibility for that fact on you. So, what have you done?”

“I didn’t do anything Klaus. Maybe he’s sick,” he attempted to sound nonchalant, despite the fact that he was quite worried about the status of his boyfriend.

Klaus rolled his eyes. “They would have told me.”

Wondering at Klaus’ use of the singular they, Diego was about to ask Klaus what he meant by that when (y/n) entered the room.

“Hey babe,” Diego said instead, moving across the room to hug his boyfriend.

“Hi,” they muttered into his shoulder, seeming to curl in on themselves a bit.

Holding (y/n) out at arm’s length, he frowned and looked them over. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine cariño. Just a bad brain day.”

The taller man nodded understandingly. He was quite familiar with his boyfriend’s depression and how it could affect him unexpectedly and at any given time. He leaned in for a slightly longer hug and gave him a kiss to the forehead.

(Y/n) smiled tiredly up at Diego and squeezed his hand before slipping away to greet Klaus.

“Hey ghost boy,” they teased gently.

“Hola, mi corazón,” Klaus hugged them and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of their head. “¿Cómo estás?”

Resting their head against Klaus’ chest, (y/n) mumbled “más o menos”.

“¿por qué más o menos?”

They looked meaningfully up at the stairs, signalling to Klaus that they didn’t want to discuss it here. Since Diego was the only one in the room, he was confused and vaguely upset that (y/n) didn’t want him to know what was bothering them.

Klaus, either oblivious to his brother’s inner turmoil or ignoring it, whisked (y/n) away to his upstairs bedroom.

As soon as the door was closed, Klaus rounded on them, crossing his arms. “You have to tell him.”

(Y/n) threw themself face first onto Klaus’ bed. “I know.”

Massaging their calf, Klaus let out a heavy breath. “We’ve talked about this. He won’t care. He loves you mi cielito.”

“You don’t know that Klaus.” And now they were crying. Big fat, heartbroken tears.

Since about four months ago, every Saturday they came to the Hargreeves household. Together with Klaus, they would research, shop, and modify. Makeup was practiced, and outfits were cultivated.

This is because four months ago, Klaus had found them at a bus stop crying. It was a common hang out for junkies and homeless people, and even though Klaus was doing the sober thing, he liked to hit up those spots in case he could help the younger kids who weren’t too deep into it yet.

He found (y/n) there, crying and being approached by several of the seedier dealers. He had bundled the shivering, nearly passed out, significant other of his brother and taken them home. There (y/n) had explained to Klaus how they ended up there. They had been caught in a skirt by their older brother, who they were currently crashing with, and given a thorough dressing down. Childhood indoctrination of transphobia falling out of his mouth and slowly tearing down (y/n)’s hard won self confidence.

After that, Klaus assisted them in finding a new roommate, a good place to stay. The days spent together doing that, turned into a standing date where Klaus helped (y/n) explore their newly expressed gender identity.

“How about this. We both get dressed up, then we go downstairs and tell my dumb brother. Tell him “take it or leave it”. And if I am drastically wrong, we will buy so much Ben and Jerry’s you’ll get sick. And we’ll steal his repurposed sex harness. Hide it in Luther’s room.”

Sniffling, (y/n) smiled tentatively at Klaus and nodded. “Yeah. Okay. That sounds good. I’m down for that.”

Klaus was off the bed immediately, making a beeline for his closet where their things were stored.

He pulled out a soft, knit cropped sweater along with a pair of loose black joggers. The sweater looked like it was straight from the 80’s with four thick stripes of red, green, purple, and white. It was an outfit (y/n) wore often, when it was just them and Klaus. It was comfortable, while still making them feel cute.

“Here. He likes soft things.”

(Y/n) smiled softly at Klaus and took the clothes, stripping down in front of Klaus with no shame. Klaus discarded his clothes as well, changing into a black Ramones crop top and fleece Star Wars sleep pants.

They grinned at each other, smoothing palms over their soft clothing. “We look great,” Klaus said matter of factly.

(Y/n) just gave a soft snort of laughter and began pulling makeup items out of Klaus’ bureau.

The clairvoyant man went to turn on some music, letting (y/n) take a moment and decide what they wanted to do.

Hips Don’t Lie by Shakira begin playing over the speaker, from Klaus’ small purple ipod. Both of which (y/n) got for him.

Klaus made his way over, body undulating to the beat, hands drifting in front of his body at intervals. In response, to the music and to Klaus’ comfortability in his own body, (y/n) began swaying their hips to the music. Soon enough they were holding hands, stepping in and out, closer and then away, hips moving in concentric circles. They danced through the song, and by the end, (y/n) was loose limbed and more settled in their skin.

One of Klaus’ world altering smiles was shot their way, and then he was picking through their combined, assorted makeup.

“I was thinking a more natural look? Some eyeshadow, light foundation, lip gloss?” He spoke absently, looking for whatever would aid him in creating the look he had in mind.

“Sounds good. I don’t think I’m up for anything too complicated.”

Klaus hummed in acknowledgement and handed (y/n) the supplies he had gathered. “I think these colors will be good.” And then he was digging around again, looking for something for himself to wear.

He popped up, reminiscent of a meerkat, and asked “You do mine, I’ll do yours?”

In response, (y/n) simply nodded and set their chosen palettes down on the bed, before settling themself on it as well. They patted the spot in front of them, and Klaus was soon occupying it.

Klaus’ makeup was easy, some simple pale purple eyeshadow and a quick cat eye. Blush and highlighter on the tip of his european nose. Pale pink tinted lip gloss to top the look off. His hair was naturally curly, and quite voluminous, so nothing had to be done to it.

“Done.”

Klaus got up to look at himself and hummed in satisfaction. “You get better every time we do this.”

Flushing, (y/n) situated themself to allow Klaus access to their face. The process was much the same as for Klaus, save for the addition of some powder foundation. Where Klaus’ eyeshadow was purple, theirs was a rich red-brown. Where Klaus’ gloss was pale pink, theirs was a deep red. Their hair was longer than Klaus’, and a different kind of curly though it was just as thick, if not thicker. Klaus decided to put it up, gathering the unruly curls into a messy bun on the top of their head. He pulled some small pieces down to frame their face, and rest over their shoulders.

When he was done, he pressed a kiss to the top of (y/n)’s head, humming along to The Sweet Escape by Gwen Stefani.

“We’re done. You ready to go see Diego?”

Stalling for time, (y/n) jumped up and began rummaging in one of Klaus’ drawers. “We almost forgot our fuzzy socks!”

Smiling indulgently, Klaus took the pink pair and slipped them on. He waited for (y/n) to slip on the black and white striped ones before speaking again. “You can’t avoid him forever, mi cielito.”

A gusty sigh. “I know. I’m just… scared.”

Klaus wrapped them in a tight hug, giving them an extra squeeze before letting go. “I know. But whatever happens, I’m here for you.”

Grabbing Klaus’ hand, (y/n) dragged him down the stairs and into the training room, where Diego was bound to be brooding.

They caught him on his way out to patrol, he was already strapped up and putting his knives into their holster.

(Y/n) had to stifle a hysterical giggle at the memory of Klaus calling it a repurposed sex harness.

“Diego?” They asked tentatively, catching his attention.

He looked up with an irate expression that immediately dropped when he say (y/n), making way for one of awe and confusion.

“Yes?” he responded, just as hesitant and much more confused.

“So, uhm. Klaus. I’ve been spending time with Klaus because…” They trailed off, the words forming strange and incorrect in their mouth.

Klaus gave them a reassuring pat and Diego drew nearer, to be just that little bit closer.

A deep breath in, measured breath out. “ Klaus has been helping me. I’m genderfluid. Which means-”

“I know what it means,” Diego cut them off. “I… yeah, I know what it means.” Diego cocked his head and asked, “Pronouns?”

And that, the easy acceptance, is what caused (y/n) to really let loose on the waterworks. It was lucky that Klaus had thought to use waterproof makeup.

“They- they and them,” (y/n) stuttered out, falling into Diego’s arms. “Mostly,” they added, face buried in Diego’s shoulder.

“I can do that. Just have to keep me updated.”

Diego held them out at arm’s length. “I love. No matter what. A little thing like gender isn’t going to keep me away from such a great person. You’re gorgeous.” He kissed their forehead. “Truly stunning.” Their cheek. “I’m in awe of you.” Their other cheek. “And you.” Their nose. “My love.” Their eyelid. “Are a giant fuckin’ nerd.” Their other eyelid.

That last remark got Diego a smack to the back of his head, but it was worth it to see (y/n) smile.

“I have the best datemate ever,” he declared before kissing them soundly on the mouth.

They were so caught up in eachother, that neither noticed Klaus slipping out of the room.

[theheadlessgroom]

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻

repost,  don’t reblog !

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

FULL NAME. Randall Huit Pace     PRONUNCIATION. Ran-Dahl Hugh-It Paa-ss       NICKNAME. The Hatbox Ghost, Ol’ Hatty, Mr. Randall/Mr. Pace      GENDER. Cis male         HEIGHT. 4′12     AGE. Was 33 when he died, and is still mentally that age, but in actuality, he’s 237 years old    ZODIAC. Taurus         SPOKEN LANGUAGES. English, some Irish he learned from his father, and a smattering of French that Emily taught him 

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

HAIR COLOR. Jet black (now gray)      EYE COLOR. Pale, olive green (now white)      SKIN TONE. Extraordinarily pale, almost bordering on sickly        BODY TYPE. Extremely bony, and it hasn’t changed very much as a ghost (especially since you can see his ribcage through his coat)    ACCENT. He has the faintest traces of an Irish accent, but it’s only most audible when he’s actually speaking Irish         VOICE. Gruff on the surface, but with a depth of warmth to it, once one gets to know him       DOMINANT HAND. Left        POSTURE. Not grand-he tends to hunch over a lot, oftentimes leaning on his cane for support         SCARS. One: A long, jagged scar that winds all the way around his throat, and one that is extremely sensitive to the touch-it’s the scar he received the day he lost his head.         TATTOOS. None        BIRTHMARKS. None         MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S). In life, a lot of people noticed the heavy bags under his eyes, as well as his long, somewhat pointed nose, but these days, people tend to notice his lack of a nose altogether, and his unsettling, unblinking eyes. Another noticeable feature is the single gold tooth he has, which often catches most people’s eye, particular when he smiles 

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 !

PLACE OF BIRTH. New Orleans, Louisiana        HOMETOWN. New Orleans (up until after his death, he never lived anywhere else)         BIRTH WEIGHT.  8 pounds        BIRTH HEIGHT.  7 ounces          MANNER OF BIRTH. Natural, at home-June didn’t even have a midwife with her, just her husband, Wilhelm, to help her with the birth       FIRST WORDS. Knox! (Wilhelm and June long debated whether he said ‘Knox’, the name of his teddy bear, or ‘knocks’, since his mother had rapped on the kitchen table as part of the ‘knock on wood’ tradition, but ultimately, Randall will tell you he was saying his favorite toy’s name)     SIBLINGS. None         PARENTS. Wilhelm and June Pace        PARENTAL INVOLVEMENT. Wilhelm died in a boating accident when Randall was three, leaving June to be his sole provider from that moment on: Although she worked countless jobs wherever she could in order to keep food on the table and clothes on their backs, she never neglected or ignored Randall; far from it. She showered him with all the love and support in the world, and he credits her for being the one to shape him into who he is today.  

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 !

OCCUPATION. Former haberdasher; currently an infamous attic ghost at Disneyland’s The Haunted Mansion         CURRENT RESIDENCE. Gracey Manor (also known as The Haunted Mansion), New Orleans Square, Disneyland, Anaheim, CA           CLOSE FRIENDS. His best friend is the Mansion’s young master, Dorian Gracey, but he also has a host of other friends, both in the Mansion and across the various RP verses, all of whom he treasures deeply, grateful that he hasn’t put them off with his cantankerous, cranky attitude       RELATIONSHIP STATUS. (Happily) married to Emily Pace nee’ de Clair, the erstwhile Beating-Heart Bride      FINANCIAL STATUS. Was extremely poor in life, but thanks to his status as a resident of the Mansion (and the fact that he’s dead), he doesn’t have to worry about such matters these days.       DRIVER’S LICENSE. None-he knows how to drive a carriage, but not how to drive a car     CRIMINAL RECORD. None      VICES. Tends to overwork himself and doesn’t always have a regular sleep pattern, but is otherwise free of most vices (such as drinking, smoking, gambling, etc.)     

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. Heterosexual        ROMANTIC ORIENTATION. Heteroromantic          PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE.  submissive |  dominant |  switch ((Mun’s note: I don’t know what this means))   PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE.  submissive |  dominant  |  switch LIBIDO. Normal       TURN ONS. Blonde hair, tallness, kindness/compassion         TURN OFFS. Bigotry, general rudeness/unpleasantness, wanton cruelty        LOVE LANGUAGE. Randall is much more of a giver than a receiver in a relationship, often expressing himself through little gifts (nothing extravagant, usually things he makes such as clothes and accessories, or flowers, always a favorite) and small gestures, such as going for walks or going out somewhere together. He’s not big on PDA (it embarrasses him to have an audience), but that doesn’t mean he certainly isn’t affectionate behind closed doors    RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. Extremely giving and supportive, in addition to being very comforting and compassionate when the situation calls for it    

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 !

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG. Magic by Mystery Skulls/I Miss You by Blink-182      HOBBIES TO PASS TIME. Randall didn’t have a lot of hobbies in life, often being too caught up in his work to be able to take the time to have one, but in death, he’s more free to pursue passions such as singing and dancing, and he still considers making hats and other articles clothing a hobby      MENTAL ILLNESSES. Suffers from nightmares/flashbacks in regards to his and Emily’s deaths PHYSICAL ILLNESSES. Struggles to keep balance without his cane nearby, will occasionally feel a sharp pain in his neck, particularly around the anniversary of his death      LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED. Right-brained      PHOBIAS. Autophobia (fear of abandonment)        SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL. Not particularly high: Growing up in New Orleans, Randall faced a great deal of discrimination for his Irish heritage, and in general was never particularly confident in his appearance and appeal to others, up to and including women. It still throws Randall for a loop to hear praise for him today in really any capacity, and though he likes being scary, he still sort of wishes he looked a little less-so (though, if you were to ask Emily, she would tell you that he has and always will be handsome, in life and in death)   VULNERABILITIES. Though he puts up a pretty tough facade, Randall is pretty vulnerable deep down inside, with a hair-trigger temper and a lot of emotional baggage: The death of his father, his rough childhood, the death of his mother, his own violent death alongside Emily, being banished and his time spent terrorizing mortal weddings, coming home to find Emily gone and Constance in her place, all of it he tries to lock away, but these are a lot of pressure points, and they can set him off in a snap     

TAGGED BY: @murroyilodel  TAGGING: @beatingheart-bride, @erika-de-claire, @unofficialpinkbrideofthemansion, @askthebrokenones-mws, @asktheghosthost, @askthehatboxghost, @ask-the-hatbox-ghost, @impysprite, @grim-grinning-gwen, @martharavenswood, @arachnofille, and anyone else who’d like to do it!

[neko-inu-twins]

.:Happy Camper:. [Camp Camp Fic]

 It was a brand new day at Camp Cambell, David had just recently assigned the campers their activity after breakfast in the mess hall, the campers, of course, were not planning on getting their hopes up any time soon. Especially the Camps' Biggest troublemaker; Max. Speaking of which,

   "Uhm...Gwen? Where's Max? He hasn't shown up to Breakfast this morning."    "Hell If I know. The little shit's probably gone off to cause trouble someplace else.."        "Now, Now Gwen; There's no reason to assume someone's actions unless proven." David wagged a finger at his Co-counselor Gwen, her legs propped up on her desk as she wrote in a notebook.    "Uh huh...Whatever." Gwen retorted with a pair of rolling eyes.    "...I...I'm gonna go find him," David said with a positive smile "And see if he's okay.."    "Have fun, don't get mauled by Bears." Gwen teased as David stepped out of the Counselor's bunkhouse on the search for the mischevious little camper Max. David sighed whilst Looking around at all the campers, all doing their own little thing, Harrison and Nerris arguing over who was the better magic kid, Space kid was hanging upside down in a tree, and Nurf-...Oh dear. David nervously hurried over to Max's tent, and he parted the curtains to peek inside.    "Maaaax~? Max are you in here?" David looked inside, he didn't even smell the aroma of Black Coffee filling the tent. David's hazel eyes scanned the tent until he spotted a lump huddled underneath the blanket of Max's bed.    "Oh Max~" David smiled and stepped inside, sitting down on the cot next to the boy, and he placed his hand on Max's shoulder, gently shaking him. "Come on Max, Time to wake up sonny, you missed breakfast-" David cut himself off, something wasn't right, David furrowed his brows and worriedly pulled off the covers to find Max's Knitted double lying lifelessly on the bed.    "Oh dear..!" David stood up, looking around nervously, He stepped out of the tent and tried to wrack his brain for anywhere that he could be hiding. A Sharp, Cold hook tapped his shoulder, interrupting his thoughts, David turned around to see the Quartermaster, staring at David with a rather grumpy-looking expression    "Oh! Hello Quartermaster, What can I help you with?" David asked curiously.    "...Kid's Cryin'.." QM grunted in response.    "Is it Max??" David's eyes widened" "Ah- I'm looking for him" The QuarterMaster nodded and pointed his hook over in the direction of the dark forest, this worried David.    "Oh No!! He can't wander off like that! I gotta go save him!" David ran past The QuarterMAster, in the Direction where he pointed out    "...No Runnin'.." He said in response.        "Max!! Max where are you??" David called out as he ran through the brush of the woods, the farther he walked away from camp, the darker and darker it had gotten, He walked to a point in the forest where it was nearly pitch black, David tried to see what lied in front of him, he stretched out his arms, and felt a tall hedge. "Huh..?" David pushed through the hedge, twigs, and vines catching on his shirt, he winced when a bright light shone in his eyes, Beyond the dark hedge, shone a clearing, of trees surrounding a Wooden throne, bushes covered in roses placed beside said throne, The air and ground littered with Rosy-pink petals, blossoms, and white butterflies. Sitting on the throne, was Max, his knees tucked up to his chest, and his head in his arms, he was holding his stuffed Bear Mr. Honey Nuts tightly as he sobbed, This was New to David, He's never really seen him cry before. Seeing him cry made his heart shatter into millions of pieces, and he quietly approached the distressed boy.    "Max...There you are." David said with a frown "Are..you okay..?" Max flinched at the sound of David's voice and he wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "Th-The Fuck you want David??" David didn't even scold him for cursing this time, which surprised Max, however still tried to keep an angry composure, which he found difficult as David knelt down to Max's level.    "Max, Please tell me what's wrong." David furrowed his brows, he was wearing such an Un-David-like Frown, Even Max hated seeing it.    "I..-" Max began, he couldn't find the right words, but he stayed silent. With a sigh, David rose up and sat down on the wooden throne next to max, it was big enough for the both of them to sit on, David looked down at max, and patted his back. "You can tell me, Max.." With a wince, Max looked up at David with teary eyes and a runny nose. "D-David.." /Sniff!/ "Am I a burden..?" David felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach, He was not prepared for a question like that, His eyes widened in shock, opening his mouth to speak. "Max I-"    "HCKTH!!-" Max choked back a sob and buried his face into Mr. Honey Nut's soft plush head, he hated crying. especially in front of other people, he didn't want to show weakness around others.    "N-!" David's eyes widened, and he put his hand on max's shoulder* No! no no no max! Of course not..!" David began, But max sat there, tears dripping off his face, David sighed and pulled him into a hug, which surprised Max. "...You're not a Burden, Max... You're not a burden to anyone."    "Yeah?? Then wh-why did my f-f-fucking p-parents send me here where they didn't wanna D-/Siff/ Deal with me?? WHY DAVID?!" Max pulled away from David and looked away. David was..shocked. He didn't know how to respond to that, but by golly, he was going to figure out how. "M-Max, I- Hh?-" David was cut off by Max hugging him tightly, burying his face into David's chest.    "...Just fucking hold me, you moron..." Max sniffed, his tears staining David's shirt. David could feel his heart skip a beat, he lowered his arms and wrapped them around max. "I-I'm here," David hugged the boy tightly, "I'm Here..." There was a long silence, all the two could hear was the rustling of leaves as the wind blew, birds chirping and squirrels chattering. It felt...nice. David looked down at max before he spoke once again    "...I know things are looking down right now...But I promise you, Things will get better." Max said nothing "Buck up, I'm here with you, and I'll always be there for you." David said as he nuzzled his nose on Max's head, in result of Max hugging him tighter, if possible.    "...Thanks...David." Max replied, in a bit of a lighter voice, he pulled away, wiping his eyes, David could have sworn he saw a light crack of a smile in the corner of his mouth. David smiled back sweetly, he could feel his heart swelling, damn he loved this boy whenever he wasn't being a total pain in the ass. thoughts rattled around his head, an Idea sparked in his head and he smiled once again, only it was a bit more playful.    "Hey, I know what'll cheer you up Max~" David crooned, setting Max onto his lap, this..somewhat worried Max.    "What...?" Max looked up at him nervously. David smiled and rolled his eyes playfully, inching his hands closer to Max's sides without notice. "The Fuck fo you have planned Camp Man??" max began to regain his more hot-headed composure.    "Oh My!...Language!" David huffed and crossed his arms. "Well I was going to do this for fun, but now I think you deserve it as punishment."    "What?! WHAT!!" Max grabbed ahold of David's shirt and climbed him, grabbing the sides of David's face and shook his head. "For the love of Christ WHAT DAVID?!" David tried to keep a grumpy face, but he couldn't help but smile, as David Scooped max un from under the arms and pulled him into his lap, Max's Yelp of surprise was enough to make David smile from ear to ear, and he hadn't even started yet.    "DAVID WHAT THE F-UGYAHAHOHOH!!?!" Max practically lost control of what noises his mouth sputtered out as David suddenly squeezed his sides, Maz's reaction, of course, surprised David.    "Oh, my goodness max! what was-"    "DAVID I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD DON'T YOU DARE-!!" Max let out a gasp, tensing up when he felt David wiggle a finger across his side, Max, of course, tried to swat or push David's hands away his mouth forming into a half smile, until a couple other fingers lightly spidered around his other side toward Max's belly, Max wasn't sure how much longer he was able to last, he wasn't going to admit defeat and give in so easily, however, his attempts to sustain a serious composure was quickly derailed as David's fingers made their way toward his belly button.    "D-DAHAHAVID!! yoHohohouhh...MOTHER FUHUHUKCER!!" Max screamed out, trying his hardest to pull David's hands away, David only held on tighter and wiggled his fingers up his ribs.    "Language, Max! We've been over this~!" David said in a sing-song voice, Max tried to struggle away from David's hands, But David wrapped his arms around the boy, trapping his arms by his sides, his sweatshirt bunched up as he tried to squirm, now exposing his belly. David couldn't pass up this opportunity, as he now tucked max in one arm so his upper body was at David's side and his lower half was still in his lap, Max's arms now free. And with his now free hand, David began to skitter his fingers up and down Max's exposed stomach, Max's loud cackling laughter startled some of the nearby animals, but they all stared in curiosity.    "HAHAHAHA! Fucking--! AHAHAHAHA!" Max laughed in his usually mocking obnoxious tone, which David had to admit- he found it pretty funny. "FUHUHUHCK YOU DAHAHAVID!!" Max screamed as he pounded his fist against David's back, which David wasn't very phased by since the punches were rather weak.    "Max if you continue to use that Gosh-darn foul language I'll only continue to tickle you." David shook his head disappointedly, but still maintained a smile, as he swirled a finger around his stomach, and plunged a finger into his Navel.    "AHAHAHAHA!!  Th-Thehehe FUHUHUCK Yohohou WILL!!!" Max came to a conclusion, and he reached over and desperately scratched his fingers along David's side, The counselor immediately stopped, Arching his back in surprise.    "WHA-AH! Ahahahaha!! /Snort/ HAHEHEehehehe!!" David withdrew, immediately letting go of Max, sinking into the wooden throne in a pile of lingering giggles once Max was released to regain his breath.    "H-Hah! No Fuckin' way. Barely even a split second and you're already weak. You're Pathetic." Max shook his head in amusement, Which definitely made sense, as for David was already such a smiley, happy person, surely the poor sap was Ticklish too. Max sat on David's lap, staring up at him in amusement as David finally stopped giggling, wiping a tear of delight away from his eye. David's Blushy giggling face was somehow enough to make max feel somewhat... sentimental? Max then mischievously smiled up at David and wiggled his fingers, Get ready' Camp Man' This Boy's gonna getcha. Before David even finished recollecting himself, Max dug his fingers into David's sides, Reflexively- David arched his sides once more, however with both sides being attacked, he couldn't exactly escape the Ticklish onslaught delivered by Max.    "OhHOhohO GeeHEeHEEZ!!-" David covered his mouth and snorted, giggling into his hands quietly, his shoulders shook in silent laughter. That is until Max suddenly reached up and drove his thumbs up David's Underarms, which threw him into hysterics.    "GYAHAHAHAHA!!!- ACK-AHAHAHA!!" David finally broke loose into shrill gleeful laughter, David tried to climb out of the Wooden throne to escape Max's attack.    "NOOOHOHOHO! TINY HAHAHANDS! MY OHOHONLY WEEHEEHEAKNESS!!" David Tried to stand up, but his knees gave out, buckling over in wheezing, bubbly laughter. Max stood on the wooden throne in triumph and threw his hands up in victory.    "HAHAHA! Take that Camp Man!!" Max cackled tauntingly at David, he then Jumped off the Throne, pouncing for another attack.    "Hup!-" David turned over and caught Max in mid-air, holding him up as he lied in the grass giggling to himself. "Alright, Ahahalright~! Th-That's Enough Tickling~ ...For now." David said with a chuckle as he laid Max down beside him in a patch of flowery grass. Max had to admit- he felt disappointed the fun ended so soon, but he quickly resumed back to his grumpy-self and tucked his hands in his sweatshirt pocket.    "David..?"    "Yes, Max?"    "...This never happened." David let out a light-hearted Chuckle, Plucking daisies from the ground, and began to weave a flower crown. "Ok max~"    "Seriously will fucking MURDER you if this gets back to the camp!!" Max Grumbled and crossed his arms, he reached over to grab Mr. Honey Nuts, But only to find he wasn't there, Max gasped and sat up, looking around for him.    "Looking for this?" David piped up as he held up Mr. Honey Nuts, and around the little bear's head was a little flower Crown. Max's eyes widened and he snatched the Bear from the Counselor's hands, hugging the bear close. David smiled and ruffled Max's hair, placing a slightly Bigger Flower crown on Max's head. Max looked up and touched the flower crown, then looked away. "Tch. Fucking ridiculous."    "Oh, I can take it back if you don't want it, Max." David reached over to pluck the flower crown off but was stopped by Max swatting his hand away.    "No! Fuck off! It's mine..!" Max grumbled, looking away. David was a little surprised by Max's sudden change of mind, but he smiled and began to weave one of his own until he was interrupted by a little white butterfly landing on his hand.    "Why Hello, Friend~!" David beamed as he lifted his finger, showing the white Butterfly. "Max, Look!"    "Hm?" Max looked over at what David was presenting. "Yeah, So?"    "It's a Cabbage White, Max. They're Said to bring Good luck when In numbers~" David let out a giggle as the Butterfly crawled up his wrist and arm, making its way up to his nose, and fluttered its silky thin wings.    "Uh huh... Whatever-Ngh!-" Max flinched when he turned his head to see a second White Butterfly fluttering in fronts of his face, then gently landing on max's nose. "D-David..?" Max called out nervously, he was shaking, he wasn't sure what to do.    "Oh~ It won't hurt you, Max." David looked over at Max, he had finally finished his Flower crown, he Placed it on his head, not realizing he had several other Butterflies all over him, One on his Shoulder, Head, Knee, Ear and the one on his nose, which was now crawling down his neck, David scrunched his shoulders and snorted in response, gently perching the butterfly on his finger, and set it down on a flower. "Isn't it Beautiful, Max?" Max's Butterfly had finally Flown off his nose, and fluttered away, Max relaxed and he looked around. "Yeah...I guess it is.." Max flinched when the same butterfly landed on his ear. "H-hehe..Yeah...I guess they're kinda cute.." David smiled brightly as Max was beginning to seemingly lighten up, He really felt like he's gotten through to him, aside from the time Max, Gwen and himself went out for pizza. That was the day he found out... David soon frowned as he remembered about Max's parents, some great parents they were... He hated to admit it, But they even began to make him "P'd-Off" each time he heard about them, Almost made him think he could...Max... David looked over at the boy, he felt his heart flutter at the thought, but he wasn't so sure, He loved the boy, But what would max think..? With a sigh, David slowly rose, not wanting to scare off his little fluttery friends, he walked over to Max, and picked him up, carrying him in one arm. "Alright, I think it's about High time we head back to camp~ and...Take the rest of the day off. You don't have to join today's Activity, Max."    "R-...Really?" Max looked up at David, slightly concerned. Dude...Are you okay?"    "Absolutely, I'm serious Max. I'm not going to force you to do something you don't want, Especially when you're sad. But- I hope today at least helped." David's voice was soft and soothing as he spoke, and he began walking out of the clearing, and into the dark forest. The butterflies all skittered up David's neck, and onto his head, then all peacefully perched on the rim of David's Flower crown, adding a little bit of a "Flare" to it, While Max's Stayed perched on his chest, right over his heart.    "It...Kinda did," Max looked away awkwardly. "Y-Yeah...It helped a lot." Max admitted.    David beamed with pride, he was certainly glad he could get through to Max today, A successful day indeed. David looked ahead, he could finally see the light of the campgrounds, as they made their way into the clearing. All the other campers were in the Mess Hall, doing their activities. David opened Max's tent and set him down. "Alright Buddy, you rest up now, Hollar If you need me." David smiled and stepped out, Max could hear David walking off while talking to himself- Or rather; Talking to the butterflies, telling them that how much he'd love for them to stay, but they needed to go home now. Max sighed and walked over to his cot and set Mr. Honey nuts down, and sat beside him, pondering deeply about what he could do now that he had the day off... Max thought as hard as he could but..nothing surfaced. Except... Max furrowed his brows, He pulled his flower crown over his head, and around his neck, wearing it like a Necklace, he carefully tucked it under the collar of his Sweatshirt, and Ran out of the tent. "HEY DAVID! Wait up!" The little Stowaway Cabbage White Butterfly sat upon Mr. Honey Nut's Head, Slowly fluttering its wings gently, waiting for Max's Return. ~~~BONUS~~~    "...Did you get all that Neil??" Nikki asked, Both Neil and herself were Crouched behind a Bush, Nikki was holding a Microphone in one hand and a Large Tape recorder in the other. she wore large headphones so she could hear everything.    "Yes, I got it Nikki." Neil retorted annoyingly as he scribbled down notes in his notepad.    "Ooohohoh~ I can't believe it~" Nikki Cackled as she shut off the recorder, pulling off her headphones around her neck. "I Can't Believe It, Can you Believe it?? I can't~! Max is fucking Ticklish!!" Nikki giggled wildly, running her fingers through her hair.        "You sure this is a good Idea, Nikki?" Neil asked, Nervously tugging at his sweater's collar. "I think it's a terrible Idea."    "Oh, contraire, My Future Step Brother~" Nikki grinned, tucking the recorder and Microphone under her arm. "We're gonna have so much fun with this new knowledge~ Besides- We don't have to tell anyone else! Well- Unless they find out for themselves, that is." Nikki rolled her eyes and smiled. "I'm sure It'll be fine." Nikki turned on her heel and walked down the forest path, back to the camp, shortly after David and Max's departure.    "Yeah...Sure" Neil rolled his eyes as he followed after her.

[shadow-light19]

The Wolf of Lilac Lake: Breaking Free

Summary: Daniel seems to finally be in charge of activities today and he starts spouting off all this cultist bullshit. Now that Max has proof, he tries to find David so that he can fire Daniel but it looks like Daniel has gotten to him first.

Notes: Okay, I made this a LOT angstier than I meant for it to be. Sorry, not sorry. I feel like David has issues that he is hiding. The angst is based on David’s breakdown in front of Max in the Season 1 finale and the friend pills he has in the original episode. I feel like he has depression from Jasper’s death and is always so happy and optimistic because of that. Hopefully, it doesn’t come up as too sudden in the story but when have I ever written about David caring about his own well-being in the first place? I also rewrote three tiny parts of chapter 5 to make the angst more fitting. The first is when David is woken by Gwen in the morning, the second is when Gwen leaves, and the third is when he’s in the sauna. If it doesn't work, let me know and I'll rewrite these.

Previous Chapter: https://shadow-light19.tumblr.com/post/174025664742/the-wolf-of-lilac-lake-muzzling-the-dog?is_related_post=1

Next Chapter: https://shadow-light19.tumblr.com/post/174189019287/the-wolf-of-lilac-lake-overcoming-demons

“Rise and shine, campers! Today is a beautiful day!”

Max rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He stretched and pressed brew on his Mrs. Coffee. Neil and Nikki got up and sleepily walked to the Mess Hall to get breakfast. Once his pot of coffee was ready, Max poured himself a mug and walked into the Mess Hall as well.

“Hey, Camp Man. What’s for breakfast today?”

His eyes were closed as he took a swig of coffee.

“Good morning, Max! I’m not David, but breakfast today is fresh fruit and rice.”

Max choked on it.

“What the fuck? Why are we eating that healthy shit? Tell David that I want toast and cereal.”

He glared up at Daniel while holding his mug of coffee to his chest.

Daniel looked down at Max. He smiled and cracked his neck.

“Now Max. David isn’t feeling well today so I insisted he rest and let me handle you kiddos today.”

Max scoffed at him. He went to take another drink from his mug when Daniel snatched it out of his hands.

“Hey, freakshow! Give that back!”

Daniel carried it to the sink and dumped it.

“Max, coffee is filled with toxins. I want you all to be healthy so we will be having detoxifying meals from now on.” He grabbed a tray off the counter and slid it into Max’s hands.

“Now everyone! Please get your breakfast and sit down. We will be having a party today!”

Everyone cheered. Max huffed and picked at his food.

“Now settle down everyone. Before we start setting up for the party I just want to ask if anyone is interested in space?”

“Oh! I love space!” Space kid raised his hand in the air.

Daniel sidled over and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Well did you know that all negative emotions come from space?”

Space kid stuttered.

“U-Uh, no. I didn’t.”

Daniel nodded and walked back to the center of the Mess Hall.

“Yes, it’s true. Our atmosphere is under constant bombardment from negative emotions tied to dark toxins. These toxins cling to the matter left over from the big bang, meaning that even though we are all pure of heart at birth, we’re bathing in a negative-rich environment every second.”

He gave the kids a pitying look. Neil scoffed.

“I’m gonna stop you right there. Are you suggesting that the massive explosion responsible for the creation of the universe is also responsible for some sort of endless radioactive evil?”

Neil snapped his apple slice in half.

“Because that’s fucking bullshit.”

Daniel’s eye twitched as he stalked up to Neil.

“Oh, Neil. Of course not! The big bang didn’t create the universe. It was just a side effect of the Millenia Wars started by Zemoog and the Galactic Confederacy.”

Neil flinched as Daniel placed an arm on his shoulder.

“I understand that you are very inquisitive. Have you ever stopped and wondered if what you were taught was wrong? After all, we are all products of our environment. Most people will believe what they are told by the people they respect which can cause them to question differing facts.”

He walked over to Nerf.

“I understand that you have anger management problems and can be more violent towards other people. I’m sure many people you respect like your parents or your teachers have convinced you that you’re the problem. That’s not true though! The world is so scary and unsafe that you can’t help but feel threatened. In reality, the world is the problem.”

Daniel walked passed the other tables.

“What if I told you that it didn’t have to be? That all those anxieties and doubt that fester inside all of you can be washed away? That you could ascend to a higher calling?”

Nerf jumped up from his seat.

“I don’t know what you’re selling but I am buying it!”

The other campers looked at each other in concern.

“I can help you reach ascension. All you have to do is let me show you how.” Daniel placed his hand on his chest.

Max stared at Daniel in horror. He grabbed Nikki and Neil and quietly backed out of the room as Daniel became distracted by Space Kid and Nerf asking him questions.

Once they were outside, he let go of their hands and grabbed his own hair.

“Oh, my fuck… This guy’s insane!”

“We have to tell David! This should be enough for him to fire him right?” Neil shrieked.

“David should be in his cabin. Daniel said he wasn’t feeling well remember?!” Nikki raced past them.

The three ran as fast as they could to David’s cabin.

“David, open the fucking door! You have to fire Daniel! He’s trying to convert the camp! He really is a cultist!” Max screamed as they banged on David’s door.

No one responded.

“Quick! Nikki, check the window.” Neil directed.

Nikki ran to the side of the cabin.

“He’s not in here!”

Max was panicking.

“Damn it! Where the fuck could he be?”

Neil wrung his hands. “You don’t think Daniel did something to him do you?”

Max froze. He bit his lip in worry.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. That’s why Daniel’s doing this finally. David’s out of the way.

“Fuck!” He looked around.

Max saw smoke rising off to the side.

“Maybe he’s over there?”

The trio ran towards the smoke and gasped when they stopped in front of the sauna.

“Purification Sauna? What is that supposed to mean?” Nikki climbed up the door and looked into the window.

“I can’t see anything inside. It’s too steamy.” She made to get down but put pressure on a rung of the door handle.

“Augh!” Nikki fell to the ground. The handle spun from her weight and the door opened. The trio gathered in front of the building as steam flowed out from inside. A silhouette appeared in the fog.

“David?” Max called out.

Damn it, the idiot better be okay.

The figure emerged from the sauna.

“Hiya, kids!” David grinned widely.

“D-David!? What happened t-to you?” Neil’s voice shook with fear.

Max’s jaw dropped in shock. David was still wearing his outfit of the bandanna, vest, and camp uniform, but it was all white and gray.

“Daniel helped show me how to be truly happy! Isn’t he the best?”

David walked forward. The group quickly backed away.

“David snap out of it! Daniel fucking brainwashed you!”

David chuckled.

“Aww, Max. I’m not brainwashed, I’ve been enlightened. Why don’t we go see Daniel together? I need to know how I can obey the Ancient One’s will and he can enlighten you all as well.”

They booked it.

“What do we do? David was the most capable of all of us to stop Daniel!” Neil cried.

“Maybe we can gather the other kids and stage a revolt? It worked on Gwen and David before!” Nikki looked back. David was walking in their direction.

“I hope so! Maybe he hasn’t gotten to them yet and we can band together to fix David.” They threw the doors of the Mess Hall open.

Dolph, Ered, and Harrison were inside. Dolph was directing Harrison on where to place the white streamers and Ered was leaning against the wall.

“Guys! Daniel’s a cultist and he brainwashed David! We gotta snap him out of it!”

Max yelled. The others turned to him.

“Really? That’s so uncool.”

Dolph clapped his fist into his palm.

“We offered to start setting up while he took the others to a sauna. Is that how he is brainwashing people?”

Nikki nodded.

“Yeah! It magically changes your clothing to white and gray as well! We have to stop him.”

They followed the group outside only to come face to face with Daniel.

“Ahhh!” They screamed.

Daniel’s grin twitched.

“Hey, kiddos! What are you up to?”

Max pointed his finger at Daniel.

“You fucking maniac! What are you planning?”

Daniel cracked his neck.

“Oh, Max. Once everyone has been purified, we’ll toast to ascension by drinking purified Kool-Aid and then they will sacrifice their mortal bodies and ascend.”

“You’re going to kill us?” Neil freaked.

Daniel tsked.

“You’re going to ascend! You’ll be able to join Zemoog in paradise. I want to save you from the negative toxins that are encompassing you all here on earth. It’s such a wonderful feeling being purified. Isn’t that right David?”

“It really is, Daniel.”

“Ahh!” They jumped in fright.

David and the other campers were all standing behind them. Each of them were dressed in white and gray and sporting large grins.

Oh, my God. He’s already brainwashed everyone? We’re dead! We’re fucking dead!

“We love you, Daniel.” They all said in unison.

The remaining campers backed away towards the tents. Daniel joined the others.

“I’m sure it seems scary to you right now, but once you’ve become purified I’m sure you’ll understand that this is all for your own good. David, if you would be so kind as to take them to the Purification Sauna? I think we’re just about ready to ascend.”

“I’d do anything for you, Daniel.”

David stepped forward and transformed. The wolf jumped forward but the kids dodged him. Max wracked his brain for ways to stop David.

Fuck! How do you deal with a fucking wolf? Wait a second!

“Harrison! Can you conjure a dog whistle? Maybe that will snap him out of it.”

Harrison screamed and dodged another lunge.

“I c-can try! It might t-take a while though!” He started waving his hands and tossing the wrong appearing objects to the side.

“Ered! Use your sunglasses to try to reflect the light into his eyes!” She took the sunglasses from her jacket and did her best to follow Max’s directions.

“Nikki, slow him down! Neil, what’s the best way to snap someone out of brainwashing?”

Nikki charged at David and Neil turned to Max. “I don’t know! I’m a man of science! Gwen is the one with a Psychology degree. The best way I can think of, based on how the brain works, is to try to re-establish their way of thinking. Try calling out to him to make him remember his previous self or snap him out of it with some kind of shock to the synapses of his neural system.”

Max growled. “That’s not working so far! Harrison is still trying to get the dog whistle and Nikki is fucking biting him and he’s not waking up.”

Max shrieked when he felt himself get picked up by the hood of his hoodie. Neil shouted his name but was quickly restrained by Nerf. Max twisted in Daniel’s hold.

“I don’t think so, Max. David belongs to Zemoog now! Once you all have ascended, David and I will continue to find children and save them. Now let’s get you guys purified.”

Shit! I can’t get free!

He tried to call for Nikki but his voice died in his throat. David was holding Nikki and Dolph by the backs of their shirts. Nerris had somehow tied Harrison up and Space Kid and Preston had down the same to Ered.

We’re going to die. We’re really going to die. This can’t be happening!

Max could feel himself start to hyperventilate. The group was dragged towards the sauna and Max couldn’t stop the tears from welling up. They passed a table that had red plastic cups laid out and bowls of Kool-Aid on them. Max whimpered at the boxes of rat poison thrown carelessly to the ground beside it.

“No! Let me go! I only want to die from being mauled by a wild animal or fighting something really terrifying! Not by juice!” Nikki struggled in David’s grasp but it didn’t faze him in the slightest.

This is it. We’re going to be brainwashed to kill ourselves. Wait… what did Neil say? Make him remember himself?

“David! Snap out of it! Daniel’s going to kill us and use you to kill others! You may be an optimistic idiot but you’ve always done your best to try to make me less cynical, remember Camp Man?”

The others caught on to what Max was doing.

“Come on, David! Remember how you made me wear a helmet in order to do extreme sports? It’s lame but it’s because you care. You even painted flames on it and on my knee and elbow pads to try to make it look cooler.”

“You’re the one who bought me a paint set when you found out that the camp only had four colors of paint and a worn-out brush. You’ve hung up all of my art in my tent or you wrap it and store it in your cabin so that I can take it home when summer ends.”

“David! You attend all of my magic shows and even if the trick doesn’t work like it should, you still clap and tell me how amazed you are. You promised to come to all my shows when I am good enough to perform for crowds. You can’t do that if I’m dead and you’re a murderer!”

“When I first came here and found out that Cambell lied about Science Camp, you went into the woods and came back with several logs. You asked me what beakers and test tubes looked like and then carved me all the tools I needed out of fucking wood! You may not understand science but you understand us!”

“I know I bit your hand when we first came to camp but you’ve never held it against me. You’re a badass werewolf and that’s so cool! You understand my love of nature and never get mad at me or scold me for getting dirty. So snap out of it Rusty! You promised to let me meet some of the wolves and foxes in the area. I want to howl at the moon with the whole pack and that includes you, Rusty!”

David stopped walking. Daniel opened the door to the sauna.

“Alright! Time for everyone to get in the sauna!”

Ered, Harrison, and Neil were thrown into the sauna. They reappeared at the window banging and screaming to be let out. Max renewed his struggles in Daniel’s hold. Tears streamed down his face as he clenched his eyes shut.

“DAVID FUCKING SNAP OUT OF IT, PLEASE!”

David dropped Nikki and Dolph. Daniel turned to him in confusion and Max managed to wriggle out of his hoodie. He dropped to the ground in his yellow camp shirt and ran behind David. Nikki and Dolph did the same. Daniel’s face contorted in anger.

“David. I asked you to bring them to the sauna. Are you disobeying me?” Daniel drew the sacrificial knife from his pocket.

David was emotionlessly staring at nothing.

“Do you know what happens to those that betray Zemoog?”

David stood still. The white bandanna around his neck slowly turning back to yellow. Max and the others watched as David went from emotionless to furious in seconds. He lunged at Daniel and bit the arm that was holding the knife. Max pushed the others back as Daniel shoved David off him and they fought.

“Hurry! We have to let the others out!” They rushed to the sauna and opened it. The others jumped out gasping and uncovered their ears.

“Thank god! I thought for sure we were done for!” Neil hugged himself.

“Everyone, David needs our help!” Dolph pointed at David who was surrounded by Daniel and the brainwashed campers.

There’s no way David will willingly hurt a kid. We need to get them out of the way.

“Nikki! I need get everyone away from David. Harrison, Ered, I need you to take the ropes and round everyone up! I’ll tie a knot once you’re done. That should keep everyone out of the way.”

Nikki dashed forward and dragged campers away from David. Daniel turned in surprise but was quickly distracted by David again.

Ered and Harrison wrapped them up and Max tied the knot. They dragged the group away from the fight so they could stay out of David’s way.

“What do we do now?” Neil asked.

Max turned back to the fight happening several feet away. He winced when he heard David yelp in pain but held himself from rushing forward.

“We can’t do anything. We’ll only get in the way. The only thing we can do now, is wait.”

David yelped as Daniel sliced his hind leg with the knife. He bit hard on the wrist holding the knife and kicked it away when Daniel dropped it in pain. Daniel tried to kick David off of him but David managed to pin him to the ground.

There’s no way I’m letting you escape. I don’t care if you tried to kill me but you tried to kill my campers and that is INEXCUSABLE!

David slammed his head against Daniel’s. Daniel slumped over, unconscious. David stepped off of Daniel and transformed.

“Are you kids okay?” He limped over to the huddled group of kids. He couldn't see any injuries on them.

They rushed forward and hugged him.

“Aww! I missed you too!” He kneeled and hugged them.

They stayed that way for a couple seconds before he stood up. He saw how Max looked embarrassed and was glaring at the ground.

“Took you fucking long enough. You had us worried sick, asshole!”

“I’m sorry I scared you all. If it weren’t for you kids though, I still would’ve been brainwashed.”

David walked over to the Quartermaster’s store and brought out a length of rope. He tied Daniel up, then returned to the kids.

“Ered, please call the police for me so that Daniel can be arrested.” He handed his phone over. David looked at the rest of the campers that weren’t brainwashed.

“I’m going to keep an eye on Daniel. Could the rest of you get me a bucket of water and some towels? I’m hoping that will be enough to wake the other campers. Please don’t go near the sauna or the Kool-Aid. I’m gonna need that as evidence for the police.”

The others quickly disbanded to do as David asked. David looked down at Daniel.

I can't believe I was so foolish. I should've followed my instincts when he first arrived at camp. I should've asked Gwen to stay or told her my suspicions. I'm sure this traumatized the kids and it's all my fault.

Nikki and Neil lugged the bucket of water over to David. He thanked them for their help and picked it up. He splashed it onto the brainwashed campers and sighed in relief when they cried out in indignation.

“Why are we all tied together?” Space kid looked at David.

David untied Max’s knot and helped the campers stand.

“When Daniel arrived, I had my suspicions that there was something dangerous about him. I didn’t act on it though because it seemed so unfounded. He was polite and his resume and previous experience were sterling. I couldn’t figure out why I didn’t trust him so I figured that I would just keep an eye on him and that everything would be okay. It’s why I never actually hired him. I wanted to be able to terminate his position if I needed to.” He turned to Max, Nikki, and Neil.

“When you three came to me with your suspicions of him being a cult leader, I should’ve fired him on the spot.”

David rubbed his elbow with his arm. “I’m sorry that I put you all in such danger. I failed to protect you and worse became brainwashed into someone who was willing to harm you.”

He hung his head in shame. David couldn’t hold back a sob.

I can’t believe I came so close to losing all of you. This whole situation was all my fault. Maybe I shouldn’t be a counselor. I’m sure they hate me now for almost allowing them to be killed.

“David, stop crying you fucking dumbass.” David stared at Max.

Max looked uncomfortable but pulled one hand out of his pant pocket and gestured to the others.

“Do you remember how we snapped you out of Daniel’s brainwashing?”

You guys told me… how much I care for everyone here at camp.

“You were reminding me of how much I love all you campers.”

Max smiled.

“That’s right! You may be an idiot but you genuinely care about us for some fucking reason. You broke free from the brainwashing because of that, so stop whining about your stupid delusions.”                                 

David smiled and kneeled down again. He spread his arms out for a hug.

“Aww! Come here, you guys!” Everyone rushed him except for Max.

Max stood off to the side and watched the others in relief. David extended his arm and pulled him into the hug. It made him smile wider when the only form of protest Max gave him was the middle finger.

“That’s sooo touching.”

Everyone froze.

David stood up and pushed all the campers behind him. He could hear sirens wailing in the distance as he faced Daniel. Daniel was awake but completely immobile.

“I mean, sure you managed to stop me in the end, but you were too weak to do it on your own. Even as a werewolf! My goodness, that’s pathetic.”

David’s glare fell.

“You didn’t even trust your own instincts! Maybe you seem happy and naïve to everyone else but I can see the truth. You’re broken inside.”

David could feel Daniel’s words chipping at him.

“You lack confidence in yourself and in what you do. That’s why you struggle to get the kids to do anything, that’s why you’re always getting hurt, and that’s why I was able to get one over on you. You told me about everything that's happened in this camp so far besides being a werewolf, remember? The mascot, the times you've been hit by a bus, the stab marks on both your palms, especially everyone's attitude about camp. You’re a much better actor than I thought David.”

David stared at Daniel as the police pulled up. He guided the police to the sauna and table full of poisoned Kool-Aid. He led the officers to Gwen’s cabin so they could seize Daniel’s possessions. He gave his statement and waited as the campers were interviewed as well.

When all the cop cars disappeared down the dirt road, David guided the campers into the Mess Hall and put on a movie. He called for pizza delivery to cheer the kids up and ignored all the worried looks the kids were giving him. He assured them he was fine every time one of them asked if he was alright with a cheerful smile and pat on the head. Once they were all settled in, David excused himself to the bathroom. Once he was alone, David let the tears fall.