#so then. i had to go back and plate some cells. which i did perfectly well but while slightly dissociated

[unopenablebox]

now that im no longer at work i can post about how genuinely tipsy i was for the last hour of work

#went for midafternoon drinks to celebrate my friend's big deal fellowship award #forgot that i have so much stopped drinking that i get for real tipsy on one cider #also forgot that the godforsaken wasteland of the campus bar only sells alcohol. like you can't buy soda or anything #it's just beer and cider. #so then. i had to go back and plate some cells. which i did perfectly well but while slightly dissociated #also while i was there [friend 2] showed up and we talked a lot about the new twists in the nightmare abusive advising situation #in their lab. and i got very mad. and forgot i was drinking alcohol #box opener

[mytheoristavenue]

I have seen your masterlist and (ignoring the soon top come) it needs more Leo fluff fics (read the rest multiple times already; some good freaking work)

If you don't feel like it that ist perfectly fine. I really just wanna throw something in here:

2k12 Leo ist pretty traditional so how would he be with the complete opposite as a s/o . Like "If your gotta, throw that katana" kinda vibe.

Anyhow, love your writing! Keep up the great work.

Have a lovely dayyy ok thx byyye<3

Sure, sorry for taking so long!

TMNT 2012 Leonardo x Reader - Unconventional

Summary: Leo grows to care for you, despite your lack of respect for tradition.

Warnings: Angst

If nothing else, you irritated Leo. He had spent hours arguing with Splinter, trying to appeal his decision to train you to be a kunoichi, fruitlessly, obviously. Those around the terrapin couldn't understand his distain for you. You were intelligent, out going, and determined, all traits that were well received in any other situation. In all honesty, Leo didn't understand it either.

----

"How's that lock coming, Donnie?" the leader asked his brother, a bit nervous.

"It'd be coming a lot faster if you'd quit asking about it." the tallest turtle snapped back, his tongue peaking out in concentration.

"Well, I'd love to just let you be," Leo responded rolling his eyes, only being halted by the need to defend himself from the android attacking him. "But currently I'm the only thing standing between you and the Kraang."

"So helpful." Donnie scoffed as he continued to struggle with picking the lock. He glanced over his shoulder to scan the room, finding you in the far corner, with your own set of problems. "(Y/N)! Come help me!" he shouted, instantly grabbing your attention.

"What's up?" you asked, skidding to your knees, behind the shield of Leo's shell.

"Can't get this lock open." he said, frustrated. "I need you to hold these two plates open so I can get into that control panel."

"You want me to stand here and hold this open for you? Don, I've gotta go help fight!" you argued.

As you both bickered about the importance of your time, Leo's eyes narrowed as the enemy forces suddenly drew back. From the other side of the room, a bay slowly began to open, giving an entrance to the room for a behemoth of a bot, which stomped into the room. "Um, guys? Maybe stop arguing and pick the damn lock?"

"Shit," you muttered, glancing back to see the new threat. "Donnie, I've got an idea-" You rushed to pick the last two arrows out of your quiver before plunging them into the panel, effectively securing the the plates open.

"That'll work." Donnie snickered, before getting back to it.

Now that one problem was solved, you had another entirely. Scanning the battle field, you found Mikey lying on the floor toward the center of the room, seemingly incapacitated, and Raph standing over him attempting to hold the menace off. Leo had since began to charge into combat with the droid, carving off bits of scrap metal wherever possible. And there you stood, lacking a weapon, but filled with passion to help your friends.

With little thought, you swiped Donnie's staff and back up before taking a running start and using it to vault yourself into the air. As predicted, you landed close to the monster, hanging from it's right arm. Leo's eyes widened as he watched you scale the thing as if you were climbing a tree. "What the hell are you doing?!" he shouted up at you, imagining all the ways you were going to fall off and hurt yourself. You ignored him, simply sitting at the back of the giant's neck, and doing anything you could to pull out as many parts and wires as you could.

While you did, the leader's attention shifted to the crevice that was opening with a fit of steam in it's chest, revealing a cyan glowing sphere. Donnie, now finished with the lock, turned to inform the team on his victory with guaranteeing their way out when he noticed the light, eyes wide. "Leo! That's the power cell, if you shut that off, the whole thing'll go down!" he shouted at his frozen brother, while patting himself with anything that he could throw, but turning up empty. Your ears perked hearing this. You had an idea.

"Throw one of your swords, Leo!" you called from the droid's head, dodging it's attempts to reach you. "Maybe if you throw it like a dart, you can hit the cell!"

Leo could feel his eye twitch with your interference. That's not how these tools were used and you should know that, but before he could protest, his younger brother piped up in agreeance. "Wait, that's actually not a bad idea. If you can throw it at precisely and 183 degree angle, it should be a direct hit, more than powerful enough to destroy the cell."

With reluctance, and a bit of distain for you and your ideals, Leo did as suggested, and just as predicted, the hit turned the tides of the battle in his favor.

-----

Back at the lair, after the fight had ended, and everyone's wounds were tended to, you, along with most everyone else were sitting in the living room relaxing and filling Mikey, Splinter, and April in on what had taken place. You were coated in honey glow listening to Raph regale the story, showering you, Leo, and Donnie with compliments- a rare occasion. "Oh, yeah you shoulda seen it, Mike. (Y/N) was sittin' on the back on that thing's neck just diggin' in, it was crazy!"

You modestly brushed it off as he began going into the details of Leo's finishing blow and you stood up to get a drink from the kitchen. You decided to treat yourself to some of Mikey's orange soda, pouring the off-brand liquid into a chipped glass, likely one of many that Splinter had salvaged from the trash.

"You shouldn't be drinking that, you're still in training, remember?" you jumped at Leo's stern voice, nearly dropping your drink before sighing.

"I think after the day we've had, I can cheat on my diet a little, right? Besides, you're all still in training and splinter lets you drink soda." you dismissed with a nervous laugh, hoping he'd drop the tough guy act. Sadly, he didn't.

"That's the problem with you."

"Excuse me?" you prodded, cocking an offended brow.

"You have no respect for us or our heritage or how we do things." he said flatly, crossing his arms and leering down at you, something he always did instill that he was superior.

"Heritage? Leo you're a fucking turtle. Being a ninja is separate from that. Anyone can be a ninja with the right amount of training, that's why Splinter chose to train me and April."

"You're not a ninja." he spat coldly turning to walk away. "You don't care about any of the principals that ninjutsu holds."

You felt tears prick your eyes. Why is he always so mean to you? It's so unfair, you do whatever you can think of to impress him, but he's always so disgusted with you. Sniffling you catch his arm to pull him back. "What is this really about?"

He freezes for a moment before relaxing his shoulders. "You don't do things the way they should be done, and yet you still get all the positive results. You use our tools like toys and still end up winning. It's disgraceful."

"Yeah well, my ideas kinda saved our asses today, so I guess your opinion doesn't really matter, now does it?" with that, you pushed passed him, making sure to shoulder check him on the way out of the kitchen, before sitting back down with your friends.

You pretended not to notice as he stared at you from the island, hunched over the countertop. He thought about how he treated you, usually much worse than he intended. It was hard to ignore how he was feeling, and he figured that maybe, blanketing it with hate might help. But if that's the case...why was the ache so much worse now?

Taglist:

@thelaundrybitch

#leonardo tmnt #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt #tmnt 2012 x reader #leo 2012

[emmis15]

Daryl's three favorite memories,

2-

Daryl was leaning against the corner of that small room as loud music played. The tears streaming down his face were inevitable, and he was trying everything he could to stop them and at least close his eyes. Lost in hopelessness and the desire to die, he couldn't shake the guilt of the situation, along with not knowing what was happening outside or how Kat was doing. He stared at a fixed point between the dim light coming in and the floor, reminiscing about an old memory from when they were at the prison.

—Judith, I promise if you stop crying for Aunt Kat, I'll let you play with my pens, okay? —I heard the whisper of my "girlfriend's" soft voice as she returned from guard duty; dawn was breaking through the cell windows.

—What are you doing?—I leaned against the bars of the open door, looking at her. She looked tired, her hair tied back haphazardly, and dark circles prominent under her eyes.

—I accidentally hit the metal plate with the candle and woke her up, so I'm trying to calm her down so the others can sleep a little longer.—Kat rocked the baby in her arms as she whispered to him, but the little troublemaker wouldn't stop crying.

I approached her and took the baby from her arms, resting the baby's head on my shoulder and moving around the small space just as I had seen Carol and Beth do many times before. Kat tied her hair back better, focusing on organizing the scattered papers on the desk quickly.

—Did you get any sleep? —I asked, running my hand over Judith's head.

—Sleeping these days is a waste of time. I have to make the most of it to organize the group my way while Rick is grieving and having schizophrenic episodes anyway—she replied brusquely. I raised an eyebrow at her tone, which made her relax, calm her shoulders, and lean against the table.

Her arms crossed over her chest as she sighed, looking at her worn-out sneakers and the dirty floor. I could see her biting her lip hard as she avoided my gaze.

—You should sleep— I said, looking at her.

—At the moment, that's a luxury I can't afford.

—I know we're all going through a tough time. Lori's death was unexpected, but believe me, even when we have to regroup without Rick, we all take some rest, even if it's just a little.

—I know, and all I care about is that everyone rests so we can work tomorrow. But I took Rick's place for a reason; I can handle these situations. I can multitask, but time waits for no one, and I can't waste minutes or hours closing my eyes only to realize tomorrow that no one is guarding the fence or that essential supplies are missing. — his hands moved to his hips as he spoke.

—I know, really, I do, dear, but you can't carry the entire group on your shoulders, okay? We're supposed to be a team, or isn't that what you always say? —I asked in a softer tone as the baby began to fall asleep.

—That's what I say, but every team has a leader. Rick was the leader, but now he's seeing things in the air or ignoring his son, and I can't let everything fall apart. We all contribute in some way, but there will always be someone who has to bear the brunt of it, and that's okay because I want to be that person. I have ideas and an organization that's self-sufficient and fair to everyone, better than what we had before—she grabbed her papers and showed them to me, proving her point.

I sighed heavily and approached her, picking up the scribbled sheets with indecipherable handwriting and putting them back where they were before embracing her tightly against my chest. I could feel her muscles relax under my touch as she wrapped her arms around my body.

—I'm pretty sure your plan for managing everything and ensuring equitable tasks will be a success, I know it. But I need you to rest because when you go to manage everything and control or do your tasks, it'll be very hard for you. You'll get tired, and somehow you'll end up ruining your perfectly planned work— I spoke against her hair, kissing her forehead gently.

We remained silent, enjoying the rays of sun beginning to enter through the small window, the light gradually warming our skin.

—¿You are going to sleep?

—No, I have to explain my plan and convince everyone that it's the best idea. Forget all of Rick's work to do what I want while he's grieving. Besides, I promised Lori to take care of her son, so I have to give everything I can to make his grieving process as bearable as possible and not force his sister onto him as an obligation— she pulled away from me as she spoke, running her hands over her face to wake herself up.

—Carl is a smart kid, ¿okay? He will realize when you are with him out of obligation and fatigue, and that will not help.

—But at least I'm doing something, okay? I'm not trying to shield him from pain or ignore him like Rick does. I promised Lori I'd take care of her son and daughter, and if I have to collapse from exhaustion to do it, I will, not just for him, but for everyone.

—You should be able to rest and enjoy the possible stability it gives you. Not carrying all the work or the burden of the group, trying to live a normal life that we will never have again. That's your problem too, Kat. You are trying to paint reality rosy so that we can feel good about the little normality we have in this new world.

¿The problem? When everything goes to hell, it is a much harder blow for everyone to face reality.

—I can't do it. Someone has to suffer for everyone else to be happy, and I offer myself as a tribute to the harsh reality, so everyone can have a plate of food, shelter, family, comics, and baby food—she was about to slam her hand on the table, but my tense look at Judith stopped her in time, letting her hand drop slowly onto the wood.

I sighed, she was as stubborn as a mule, but I wouldn't stop until she could close her eyes for at least five minutes.

—Let's make a deal, ¿okay? I need to sleep now. I'll give you three hours to do everything, and if you're not in my bed with me by 9, I'll come looking for you— I pointed at her sternly.

She gave me a dirty look, but she nodded anyway, just in time to hear the whole group starting to get up because the sun was already high in the sky.

I left Judith in Carol's arms before walking to my cell and collapsing onto the lousy bed to grab a couple of branches that weren't yet arrows to distract myself, waiting for her to come to my arms. Calculating the time with a tap of my foot against the wall and in my mind, counting the seconds and minutes like a clock.

I knew the three hours had passed because no one was in the dining area, and everyone was scattered with papers in their hands. It seemed like everyone had agreed to try Kat's idea, even if they didn't understand her handwriting or the concept, judging by the confusion on their faces, like Glenn's.

I was about to get up heavily and my eyes barely open, but I saw her walking tiredly to my cell.

—40 minutes, just that, Glenn's going to come wake me up because I know he won't have any compassion if I get mad at him for letting me sleep longer—she nestled into my chest as if it were her pillow and wrapped her arms around my neck.

—You and Maggie have the poor guy trapped between a rock and a hard place—I said with laughter in my voice, closing my eyes and enjoying her weight on my body.

I chuckled before feeling her lips on mine and then resting her head against my neck, my hands on her waist resting as if it were my home between the worn seams of her jeans and the little skin left exposed by the short shirt she was wearing.

Hello, I hope you like it and that you can give it a like or reblog to reach more people. English is not my native language, so if there is any mistake, please let me know respectfully <3

#daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader #twd daryl #daryl dixion imagine #norman reedus #daryldixon #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twd #daryl dixion x reader #judith grimes #carl grimes #love

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"Permanently Tied." Freddy Krueger X Amber Cottrell.

Today is a big day! Today marks three years of me writing! And you all know what that means, the first thing I ever posted was chapter one of The Man Of My Dreams, so it’s been three years of this lovely little fic of mine, happy birthday to the baby that started it all! So to celebrate as per uze’ I wrote up Freddy and Amber thing, natch. I hope you allll enjoy it! Not super long, not super extra, but it feels very, very them and I had fun doing it which is the most important thing. 

—

Length. 2.7K. Rating. Explicit. Freddy Kreuger X Amber Cottrell. Warnings: Amber Has A Real Bad Day. Banter. Teasing. Mentions Of Violence. Blood Play. Knife Play. Vaginal Sex. Dirty Talk. Just Freddy And Amber Being Freddy And Amber.

—

Today was a beast for poor Amber. 

One of those days where almost everything went wrong. She loved her hair, the big mess of curls was one of her favourite things about herself but today no matter what she did before she left the house it was just that, a fucking untamable mess. She left the house on time but when she was halfway to her office, fumbling for her cell phone to answer a call she wasn’t paying close enough attention, her heel got caught in part of a subway grate. Worse still, it broke off, totally ruining her shoe and making her spill her caramel macchiato on herself in the process.

She had to hobble back home, cursing the whole way for the wasted drink, the horribly stained blouse and skirt that needed dry cleaning and her perfectly good patent leather Louboutin heel that was ruined beyond recognition. She couldn’t even pry the busted heel out of the grate so taking it to a cobbler to try and salvage it was out. She called her assistant, him on speaker phone on the table in her walk-in closet as she got redressed, informing him she would be late. 

She had to change and couldn’t show up to work in a broken shoe and a ruined outfit, not with performance reviews today, she was up first before delivering some of the people she managed and he informed her that her boss called just before her and was going to be early. 

She barely made it in time. 

Her review was fine, better than fine, it was glowing, the one highlight of today. Her own reviews she gave were more disorganised than she would like, her lunch order was wrong, her computer was out of commission and needed IT to fix it, by five o-clock she was fucking bone tired and had totally written the day off. 

She wanted to cook dinner, wanted to lose herself to the methodical nature of it, and help make up for the lack of breakfast and her terrible lunch. Sadly, dinner somehow got inexplicably burnt and she just about lost it. She tossed the smoking pan into the sink after turning off her smoke alarm and then picked up her cell phone and almost felt bad for the poor guy on the other end who took her pizza order which was surely the most angry pizza request anyone had ever put in at that particular establishment. 

When her order was in, phone tossed down and forgotten, she busted out her nicest bottle of whiskey and poured a glass for herself, neat. She downed it in one painful swallow that burned in the most satisfying way and then poured herself another. 

The pizza arrived in less than thirty minutes, she thrust the folded bills in the hand of the clearly nervous delivery person, but she didn’t blame them. Wild red curls around her head, her blouse unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, giving dead eyes and a vaguely angry expression, glass in her (Chipped! Another thing that pissed her off earlier-) manicured grip, saying nothing. She took the pizza in the other hand that wasn’t holding her glass and she slammed the door closed with her foot before walking into the living room. She sat on the couch, put down her glass and opened the box, about to eat the pizza right out of there, sans plate. 

When she opened it, something made her stop. 

She stared down at the offending box, around 50% of the cheese from the pizza stuck to the box's lid. 

She sighed, closed the box, finished her drink and turned off the tv. 

Today is done, it’s over, she isn’t doing this anymore. 

She’d laugh if she had anything left inside. She stripped off, threw the clothes down, and left them on the bathroom floor. She ran a bath, used salts and oils and bubble bath and slipped into the scalding hot water and allowed the tension to start to melt out of herself. She breathed deep and let the smell of lavender soothe her frayed nerves. She got out when the water was significantly cooled, she moisturised, did her skin care, spritzed herself with perfume she knew he liked best, vanilla and honeysuckle but not just cloying sweetness, it had depth to it.

Making her way to her closet, she thought about how she was going to get to see him soon. Tonight was a big deal, she had hoped today was going to be a good day leading up to it but sadly it wasn’t, tonight was their anniversary, three years since he had been back and she was excited to celebrate it with him. She wasn’t going to let her terrible day dampen tonight.

She pulled out the bag from her closet that she had bought a month ago, fished out the white silk pyjama set that she knew Freddy would eat up. It was traditional, very, very unlike anything she had worn previously for him, it screamed innocence and begged two words, “corrupt me”, there was no way he wouldn’t love the change of pace.

Now in a much better headspace she made her way to bed, as fun as a good hate fuck is every now and again, she didn’t want to bring that energy to him this time.  

She slipped into the sheets and stretched out, even after so long she still felt palpable excitement to see him on a night like tonight. It made falling asleep harder but no matter what, it always got to her eventually, just like him, he always got to her eventually. 

The change from awake to asleep bleeds, it melts slowly, from her being conscious to un. She always becomes aware of it when she feels the sheets of the bed in the playroom as opposed to the ones on her own bed. She feels the weight of the mattress shift and her eyes slide open, she feels his hands on her body through the blanket and she looks up to see him, already almost on top of her, “There she is. Was wondering if you were ever gonna show up.”

“Awe, did I keep you waiting?” 

“You did. Terrible, awful, girl. Making me hang around on a night like tonight. Maybe I shouldn’t give you your gift as punishment.” He teased and she laughed, a roll of her eyes, “We both know you aren’t gonna not fuck me tonight.”

He gasps, mock offence, “You think that is the only thing I got you?” His gloved hand to his chest and she laughs over his expression.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” She taunts as she sits up and as the blanket slips down and pools at her waist he sees what she is wearing. “Oh. Now what-” He reaches out, feels her arm with his non-gloved hand, “-is this?”

“One of your gifts.” She says with a smile, leaning away a little bit as he takes in the creamy white silk covering her form. He yanks the rest of the blanket away to see the rest of her and she asks, “What do you think?” 

“I thiiiink, it is very different from what you usually wear.” He said honestly and she hummed as he leaned in closer, “Good different or bad different?”

“Oh I think you know what kind of different.” He stated and she let him think he was going to let him kiss her and when his lips were an inch away from hers instead she fell back onto the bed and he groaned, his head tipping forward and she giggled. Looking up at him through her hair, playing with her fingers as she looked up at him, mocking with a playful pout, “What’s the matter Freddy? You don’t wanna work for it?”

“I didn’t have to work for it the first night you came sniffing around for me, why do I gotta work for it now when we are years in?” The tone shows he is joking and she reaches out, toying with the hem of his sweater. “Cuz it’s fun. Annnd you love me, and I humour you all the time.” 

He sighs as if he is put out when they both know he is not. “Compelling argument you strike.” 

She pats the space on the bed next to her and he takes her up on it, lays beside her, feet to head and facing her, one of his hands resting on her leg, looking towards her and asks, “So how was your day?”

A groan leaves her, one of her arms thrown over her eyes overdramatically in a fashion that makes him smile, “Terrible! The worst ever!” 

She then proceeds to vent about her day, from the spilled coffee and broken heel to her burnt dinner and the ruined pizza that was surely congelling, grease leaking through the box onto her nice glass coffee table, and he listened. He actually validated what she said and agreed it was all bullshit. “Really?” 

“Yes!” He said and she asked, “You don’t think I am overreacting?” 

“Not at all.” He affirmed, his hands hadn’t left her, tracing slow and sweet patterns over the pyjama pants she was wearing. “Even the thing with my heels?”

“Hey I loved those heels, the ones with the red bottoms? They looked so good on you!” The look he was giving her she knew exactly what he was thinking of.

“Yeah you always did love 'em propped on your shoulders.” She said with a smile and he laughed, “Can’t sneak nothing past you.” 

“Not after all this time, no.” She sighs, “Thanks for listening.”

“Of course, the least I could do.” He started to sit up, his hand not leaving her thigh as he asked, “Is there anything I can do to help fix such a shit fucking day?” 

“I just wanna do whatever you have planned. You do have something planned, don’t you?” She asks sweet as pie.

“You think I don’t have something planned? Honey, you wound me deeply.” 

“Hardly. Give me that glove and we can talk about me wounding you deeply.” 

“Have you thought about this a lot?” He asked and she laughed, reaching out she plucked up his gloved hand, “Oh yeah, don’t you know? I masturbate exclusively to the thought of me murdering you with your own weapon.” 

“I knew it.” He accused her. He got up and held out said gloved hand, “C’mon, let’s go.”

She hums and takes what he offered as she always did. Turns out the plans took them to some well loved and previously enjoyed spots, a drink out a certain club, all while recalling fond old times. “Remember last time we came to this club and I-”

“Fucked me in the alley so good I ended up flat on my ass? Yes! It was hilarious, my legs just gave out.” She laughed, “You looked like a newborn deer trying to walk after.”

“Did I ever tell you I called out of work that morning?” She asked and he laughed, “Fuck off! No you never said!”

“Well I tried to get up but it was a no go, I had to fucking crawl to the bathroom-” 

After all of that, food was gotten at a particular restaurant, more good times recalled, 

“So did you ever see Joseph again?” 

“You mean after the time he tried to kiss me and you got so jealous you almost gutted me like a fish? Nope, steered clear after that.” It was said in a shockingly light tone considering how heavy the subject matter was. 

“I wasn’t gonna kill you, fuckssake-” He groaned, a fond roll of her eyes, “Uh-huh, just what was your intention?”

“Just scare you real bad.” 

“Well you accomplished that-”

And soon the gifts were exchanged. He laughed when he opened his, pulling out the silver object from the box with his non-gloved hand, “Really? You got the permanent burn victim a lighter?” He flicked it open and lit it once on the first strike before snapping it closed, snuffing out the flame, “Hilarious.” 

“I thought so! But read it.” She encouraged and he did so, seeing the engraving on the other side, “Thank you for the fire you lit inside me.”  

It made him have a small moment of pause, thumb ran over the embedded words, but instead of being sweet or acknowledging the touching gesture he instead teased, “Look at you. When did you get so fucking soft on me?”

“Freddy, c’mon, you’ve felt me all over, you know first hand how soft I am.” She joked and he sighed, “Open your gift already Amber.” 

She hooks a nail under the red green silk ribbon that was tied around the red wrapped box, she pulls until the bow gives way and she opens the box and sees what he got her, “Ooh! New piercing set!” She lightly touched the polished dark green metal, “Ooo, different colour this time.” She lifted the matching pieces out, turning them over in her fingers. “You gonna outfit me in the whole rainbow eventually, hm?”

“Only took you this long to figure it out, I’m shocked.” He said before taking a sip from his bourbon.

“I’m slow on the uptake sometimes, can you blame me when you distract me so often?”

“I’ll let it slide this time. You wanna put those new ones in?” He asked and she laughed hard into her glass, before she set it down, “Here? At the table?”

“I’ve fucked you on this table in front of the whole restaurant before but sure, you changing out your piercings is too far?”

“Heaven forbid I have some boundaries left.” She finishes the rest of her drink, “We can head back and maybe you can help me change em yourself.” 

“Tempting offer.” He agrees as he gets up and takes her hand. 

They never got to him helping her change her piercings, both were a little too distracted a little too quickly for that. He used his glove to shred her nice pyjamas, he popped the buttons off so the top hung loose and open, pretty tits on display, pants mostly cut apart giving him the ample access he needed to torture her and please himself. It didn’t take much for it to escalate to its current point, there was no need to rush but sometimes the need they feel is too much to take their time.

Amber is riding Freddy as they are sitting up, both of them very, very into it, bodies pressed almost as close as can be. She pulls back from him, slightly, breaking the very sloppy kiss they had been sharing, a soft moan of, “Freddy.”, gracing her lips.

“Amberrr-” He almost purrs her name back, a clench of her on him, another rush of arousal pouring through her chest and straight to her overheated cunt. 

Panting, she asks around a half laugh, half moan, “Fuck, is it possible to be addicted to hearing the sound of your own name?” 

He laughs too, “Shit, I dunno, let’s test it, eh? Say my name.” Her arms looping around his neck, rolling her hips she breathes to him, “Freddy-” His head falls back with a groan, thrusting up into her harder, “You know, I think you’re onto something.” 

A breathy giggle breaks out, she starts “You narcissistic fucker-” He cuts her off, “Hey, you’re one to talk! This was your fucking idea-” Another series of hard thrusts upwards makes her shudder, a series of broken moans leave her open mouth, “-Amber.” 

The son of a bitch said it just the way she adored when he did, focusing on the M, stretching out the R, lingering on it as if every syllable was a delicious treat for his senses.

“What? No cute little comment?” He asked and when her pleasure addled brain made her response take too long for his liking he stopped cold and she groaned, a shake of her head, “No, no, ju-st keep going-” When he did she gasped, clung closer, even with her thighs trembling she resumed her earlier pace, slamming down to meet him in the middle, “Fuck! Right there!”

This is just what she needed, being rendered physically unable to focus on the bullshit of earlier, instead she could come here and lose herself in the feeling of shredded and blood soaked silk plastered to her broken skin while getting fucked totally dumb. She loved being able to go to sleep, to rest and come and see him, he fixes all of that so easily, hopelessly devoted and she knew he was in a similar boat, no doubt with how he touched her, looked at her, that he didn’t feel it all as strongly as she did. 

#Freddy Krueger X oc #Amber Cottrell #Freddy Krueger X Amber Cottrell #The Man Of My Dreams #TMOMD #BHF writing #Happy birthday to me and the blog and these two and on and on

[moonlight-prose]

NOCTURNAL | MOONLIGHT TO SHOW THE WAY

a/n: i swear i don't mean to take so long with these chapters. i meant to get this out awhile ago, but finals kept my ass busy so here we are. i am currently working on plotting the rest of this fic and so far it's become one of my favorites to work on. we'll be meeting a certain man named marc soon which i'm so excited about. i hope you enjoy the adventure of these two!

summary: steven's back, things have changed, and you're contemplating the question of your own sanity.

word count: 5.3k+

pairing: steven grant x fem!reader

warnings: explicit so minors goodbye, cussing, angst, dealing with assholes on the job, anxiety, talk of panic, contemplation of insanity, crying, kissing, dry humping, ruined moments.

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Digging your teeth into your bottom lip, you did your best not to glance at the clock for the hundredth time that day. Your second to last tour of the day seemed to last longer than the allotted time. Although that might have been because you were anxious to get out of here. You weren’t sure how you’d last yet another tour plus any extra work Peggy wished to dish out on your already overloaded plate.

For two days Steven had been missing. No calls, no texts, nothing to let you know that he was still alive. Other than the cut off phone call from the other day you were at a loss as to where he went or when he’d be back. You hadn’t liked it, but you were left with no other choice but to wait. Which meant feeding Gus one last time and locking the door behind you.

It led to you being right where you were today. Trying not to bite your lips raw as you impatiently counted down the hours until the day ended so you could try and contact Steven again. Thankfully the caller ID on his cell phone let you know where he was calling from. You just had no idea how Steven ended up in the countryside calling from a payphone in a town you’d never even heard of before.

“What does that mean?” someone asked, cutting you off from your thoughts derailing into utter catastrophe again.

In a way you were grateful. You weren’t sure how long you could handle the mental images of Steven sleepwalking somewhere dangerous. How long did it usually take for him to wake up? Would he ever wake up? The latter question was too horrific to even consider, but you couldn’t out-rule that possibility. No matter how much it hurts to think about.

Seeing the image the woman was pointing to—you felt your heart twist violently as you saw the painting of Ra on the Mesektet. Of all the images she could have asked about—why did she have to inquire about that one? Taking in a breath, you kept your emotions level as you responded as eloquently as possible. Your job as a tour guide couldn’t go to shit, because a man had possibly ghosted you…accidentally.

You hoped.

“What you’re looking at is Ra traveling through the Duat.”

One look at the clock told you that only a minute had passed since you last checked the time, and it only alerted your brain that you’d been keeping an eye on it for too long. So what Steven left. So what if the phone call ended abruptly, leaving you hanging—enough to shove you into a state of ongoing panic. You couldn’t allow it to halt your days and bring an end to your own life. Growing attached to someone was one thing, but the emotions you were currently battling felt like another thing altogether.

You weren’t sure you liked it.

Sighing, you slapped a forced smile on your face and turned back to the group of people that were waiting for you to speak. “Now if you follow me to the main part of the exhibit there’s some art pieces that will show the different gods and goddesses of Ancient Egypt.”

You had memorized the script perfectly—to a point where you didn’t necessarily need to focus on the words you were saying. You were merely regurgitating facts over and over again, all said by every tour guide that worked there. So, you allowed yourself a moment to daze off—wondering what Steven would do in your situation; or what anyone else would do. The conclusion was rather obvious. Anyone else would leave it alone—allow him to come back in his own time. You figured that was the better option.

“To your left you will see a statue of Anubis the Egyptian god of the dead,” you said, seeing something dark move out of the corner of your eyes.

Turning swiftly, you ignored the inquiring questions of the group as you watched it vanish around the corner—the figure much larger than you would have expected. A part of you wanted to go after it, follow and see where it took you, but the more sensible part of your brain told you to remain where you were. Sleep deprivation has a way of casting figures in your line of sight. It had happened before—the  hallucinations of figures following you, watching you at all times and they always took the shape of mere shadows.

“Are you okay?”

Jumping, you glanced behind you to see a younger kid, his eyes wide with wonder and confusion—a look you recognized in someone else’s eyes. “Yeah—I’m—I’m good,” you stuttered, exhaling the breath you’d been holding. “Shall we continue?”

Stepping forward, you stopped at the next statue—a personal favorite of yours. “Before you is the statue of Bastet. She’s the goddess of—”

“Wait, let me guess…cats?” A man rudely blurted out, laughing at the sight of the female goddess with the head of a cat.

You didn’t have the patience to deal with someone like this, but according to the guidebook you were handed on the first day…you were to never be rude. Especially to those who chose to be a part of a guided tour. It was complete bullshit—just another way for your job to control you—but if you recalled correctly you were still on thin ice around Bitch Peggy. Apparently she didn’t appreciate her employees taking off in the middle of the day.

Clearing your throat, you narrowed your eyes. “Actually yes. Can you tell me anything else about Bastet since you seem so keen on taking over as the tour guide?”

He seemed to shrink beneath your stare, eyes glancing anywhere other than you as he realized what exactly he’d done. It wasn’t the first time you had to deal with someone pretending to know more about the museum than you did. However there was only one person you’d allow to take over the conversation like this, but he was currently out of the city and it looked like—out of your life altogether.

“Bastet was the daughter of Ra the sun god and is known as the goddess of—as our friend pointed out, cats—as well as the home and fertility. She held the power to shape shift when it came time for war, but usually took the form of a lioness. That is until her image became more synonymously known as a house cat.”

Once again the shadows in the corner of your eye caught your attention, dragging you away from the focus of the group. For two days you hadn’t been able to sleep—the stress of what happened to Steven, where he went, and whether or not he was safe kept you awake. Which meant that you were running on the absolute bare minimum of energy you had left in your body.

“Shall we keep going?” you asked softly, the hair on the back of your neck standing up as a chill went down your spine.

Insomnia was scientifically proven to cause hallucinations at times. Yes, that was it. You weren’t going insane, nor were you seeing spirits in the museum you worked at, but rather you just needed to take a nap. Rubbing your eyes, you felt the unsteadiness of your legs as the exhaustion began to hit you harder than ever. Something was wrong with your body—your mind, and instead of sitting to take a break, you kept pushing forward. Intent on finishing up the work day with ease.

Just one more tour after this one and you’d be able to go home. Whether or not you would be successful in sleeping was another issue altogether. Although that would be one you’d have to tackle later.

“I have a question,” Mr. Pompous asked, his lips curving into an irritating smile.

Taking in a deep breath, you reminded yourself that you needed this job—which meant sometimes dealing with assholes like this. “Yes?”

“Aren’t tour guides meant to be—I don’t know—cheerful?”

You could see in his eyes he knew the kind of anger he was bringing forth in you and you nearly gave him the satisfaction of giving into it. How sweet would it be to slap him—show him where he belonged, but even you knew that wasn’t you speaking. It was the exhaustion resorting to the first conclusion it could think of in order to stop him from pressing your buttons. As much as you wished you could do it, you knew slapping him wouldn’t work.

“I apologize if you are unhappy with me as a tour guide. You’re more than welcome to file a complaint against me at the front desk,” you replied—remaining as stoic as humanly possible.

When he realized he wouldn’t be able to get a rise out of you, his smile fell, his taunting words ceasing within seconds. Just the sight of him dropping all his means of attack nearly brought a smile to your face. Yet all you could think about was telling Steven about this. How you managed to stand up against someone who decided you were their punching bag for the day. You already knew what he’d say; could practically picture the smile on his face. The satisfaction melted away from your body, replaced now by the ongoing dread you continued to push away.

So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the shadow return in your peripheral vision—its lanky figure heading straight towards you.

“Little one.”

Stiffening as a woman’s voice cooed in your ear, you turned—expecting to see someone standing behind you, but were met with nothing but an empty space. A thrill of panic surged through your veins, rooting you to the ground where you stood as you attempted to calm your now racing heart. It seemed that the lack of sleep was finally affecting you in entirely new ways—the exhaustion turning your hallucinations into a figment of reality.

Yet you couldn’t quite place why the voice sounded almost…familiar.

“Through those doors you’ll be able to see the new exhibit dedicated to the mummification of a human being,” you forced the words out, shoving the voice to the back of your mind. It wasn’t something you could face at this time.

A good night of sleep would fix everything. You were sure of it.

You just had to survive one more tour.

“Finally,” you breathed a sigh of relief as your front door shut behind you. After finishing up your final tour, you were then guided to the storage room. It was there you were given the task of inventory—the consequence of your actions, Peggy said on her way out.

If there was ever a time to slap someone…it would have been then.

The mess of your flat greeted you—books piled everywhere the eye could see. But you couldn’t be bothered with it tonight; not when you desperately needed to try and sleep for the sake of your health. The voice from before hadn’t peeked its head out from the crevices of your mind since earlier in the day, the shadow figures having vanished as well too. You whittled it all down to your insomnia causing problems again; the possibility that it was all real never settling right with you.

You were just tired—that was it.

Things never got this bad in the past when you were unable to sleep. You’d stay awake, feel constantly like you were on the verge of passing out, and eventually your body would fall privy to the weariness. Except something shifted the moment you met Steven and no longer were you depending on sleeping pills and different types of teas to help you pass out. Now you were depending on him.

A shuddered sob left your lips, the stress from the past two days nearly incapacitating you entirely. You didn’t give a shit about the tears that fell down your face, because they were justified more than your hallucinations were. For two days you’d been holding everything inside, unwilling to let go of the emotions that waged a war within you, but you couldn’t do it any longer. You couldn’t keep going like nothing was wrong.

“Fuck,” you muttered, gasping a lungful of air—relishing in the way it burned on the way down. “Pull yourself together.”

Falling apart was never something you did and yet there you were, watching as everything unraveled within you—showing the scars you tried so hard to conceal from the rest of the world.

A distant meow pulled you out of your state, drawing your attention to the single door that led to a small balcony. Exhaling, you watched the black cat you’d grown so fond of remind you that you had to take care of her. Cleo meowed again, pawing at the glass—the bell on her collar tinkling as she moved, anxious to get inside. That simple sight was enough to stop the tears. So, you walked towards the door, pulled it open and chuckled as she sprinted in—jumping onto your kitchen table with a disgruntled meow.

“Sorry I kept you waiting,” you said with a smile, scratching her head gently. “Would you like anything in particular for dinner?”

She merely purred in response, bumping her head along your hand in order to reach your nails. You supposed that was the simplicity of cats—they didn’t have to stress about the ongoings of life, because they were free. They had nine lives for a reason and oh how you wished you could share the same sentiment. 

Cleo’s yellow eyes opened, locking with yours as you continued to scratch underneath her chin how she liked it. Except there was something in her stare that kept you from walking away from her; that kept you trapped where you stood. As if you were cemented to the ground—your body betrayed your mind. Your movements became sluggish, the world around you almost slowing to a maddening degree. What the fuck did you eat to make your mind go this haywire?

“Little one.”

The voice practically purred into your ear, causing every muscle in your body to tighten—fear once again flooding your veins and halting your movements. This wasn’t happening. You weren’t hearing a woman call out to you as you stared at your cat. Once again you attempted to simplify the situation in order to comprehend it in your mind—a habit you’d been doing since you were a child. This was your insomnia. Nothing more than that.

“Cleo?” you asked, your voice strained. It felt like you were fighting against something that willed you to remain quiet, a force that wished to take over your very being without permission.

She meowed, her eyes squinting shut slowly before reopening—the dilation of her pupils turning into slits, sending another chill down your spine.

“What are you—”

A persistent knock on the door ripped you away from her, the air suddenly flooding your lungs as you regained the ability to move. Stumbling over your feet you glanced back at Cleo, watching her leap off the table and wind around your legs—her tail flicking with every step. You needed sleep now more than ever if you truly believed that your cat was trying to communicate with you. Yet still words you continued to tell yourself of this being nothing but the exhaustion that plagued your body didn’t feel right.

How could you have lost your mind this quickly?

Another round of knocks came again, nearly making you jump—the fear still dictating your actions. Cleo seemed to have lost interest in you altogether, favoring the couch now more than anything and you were grateful for that. Any amount of time that could give you some reprieve from the day’s insanity, you would savor. You tried to slow the rate of your heart, the anxiety spiking it higher with every new thought that entered your mind.

What if this was real?

What if you were officially insane?

What if…

Shaking your head, you headed towards the door and yanked it open without bothering to ask who was on the other side. With a shock you realized…you should have asked. Steven stood in front of you, his hair disheveled and eyes wide with panic of his own and for a moment you felt like you were dreaming. He couldn’t possibly be standing here now, but then you felt it. The cold wash of reality streamed down your spine as you concluded all of this was real—the voice, the shadows, Steven…

You weren’t insane, nor were you dreaming. No, you were just finally waking up.

“Steven?” you asked incredulously, your own eyes just as wide as his.

“Hi.”

Two days missing without a word and all he could offer you was…hi? The shock dropped quickly from your system, suddenly replaced with irritation as you took him in. He was fine. No injuries, no horrible actions from what you could see, and yet…something was different. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but you saw the way his eyes shifted warily, his whole body shrinking in on itself—as if he was afraid someone was watching him.

“You’re okay.”

His eyes lifted to meet yours. “Yeah, I–I shouldn’t have…oh bollocks I—”

“Shouldn’t have disappeared on me for two days?” You didn’t bother letting him, simply turning away and leaving the door open.

Whether or not he wanted to follow was now entirely up to him.

“I swear I didn’t—” He cut himself off, glancing at your balcony, swallowing thickly. “That wasn’t me.”

“Steven, if you wanted space you should have just told me. Instead of leaving me in your flat and calling me once before hanging up.” Sighing, you opened a can of cat food for Cleo, dumping it in her bowl. “But no…you vanished for two days. I didn’t know where you were or what happened to you. I thought—”

“I didn’t call you,” he said more to himself.

Letting out a shuddered breath, you shoved down the painful twist that went through your chest. Cleo walked your way slowly, eyes narrowing at Steven before a rather loud hiss left her mouth. You nudged her lightly with your foot, guiding her to the bowl on the floor—doing everything you could to ignore the heartache flooding your entire body. You were failing at it…miserably.

Steven paused, his hands falling to his sides when he realized how he’d put his foot in his mouth again. “I’m sorry,” he began, stepping closer before stopping a foot away. “I’m so so sorry.”

“I just need to know you’ll tell me when you want space.”

“I don’t!” he exclaimed. “I don’t want space. I–I wanted to wake up with you that morning and…get breakfast again. I—whatever happened—I swear that wasn’t me.”

You blinked, watching as his panicked state grew the longer you stayed quiet. He was telling you the truth.

Exhaling, you tried to regain some sense in the matter. “What the fuck happened Steven? From the beginning.”

He nodded, sitting on your couch, his head in his hands. You joined him, handing over a glass of water to help calm his nerves. Funny how you’d been in this situation before. Sitting beside one another with the intention of just talking—no other worries on your mind as you relished in each other’s company. Except now things were different. You weren’t even sure Steven would continue to tell you the truth, but you simply had to have faith in him.

You’d done it before…you could do it again.

“I woke up in the countryside and was suddenly being shot at.”

Sitting beside him silently, you listened as he explained everything that had happened to him in explicit detail. The people that shot at him, how he attempted to escape him and even a man who supposedly was able to judge the soul of a human. That you weren’t sure was true, but still you continued to let him speak—intent on hearing all of it. It’s only when he reached the part in his story of a voice speaking to him, calling him a name that wasn’t his—Marc to be exact—did you feel your spine straighten. The memories from earlier, returning with enough vigor to send you into your own panic.

“I don’t know why he kept calling me Marc, but whoever that is he’s not a good person.”

“Steven—”

“They kept saying I was a mercenary. Which is ridiculous, because I’ve never done anything like that before in my life. I don’t even know how to use a kitchen knife properly—let alone use a gun!”

“Steven, wait—”

“What’s even worse is I kept blacking out before I woke up at home. I thought it was a dream, but—oh gosh…” He raised a hand to his mouth, eyes filled with enough panic to have even you reeling. “Those people. They–they’re actually dead.”

He continued to ramble—the utter terror in his voice alone left you wondering if he was actually okay. You wanted to tell him he was safe now. That whatever shit happened was over and you were with him, but he kept going. Piling on the guilt with every new realization he came to. Without thinking, you grasped his cheeks, gently turning his face towards you so he would finally meet your eyes and it seemed to work, because he fell silent. Shock washing over his face.

“Steven,” you said, making sure you actually held his attention. “You’re okay.” He blinked, eyes wide with an emotion you could decipher. “Whatever happened…” you continued. “It wasn’t your fault. Okay?”

Nodding slightly, his lips parted as you dropped your hands from his face. “I–”

“So help me Steven Grant if you say sorry again,” you huffed out in laughter. Whatever happened shook him to his very core, but as his words sunk in you finally realized…none of it mattered. You were just glad he sat there beside you—safe.

“Do you want me to go?” he asked, eyes dipping down to glance at your hands.

“No.” You shifted, turning to face him. “Do you want to go?”

He shook his head.

For the first time since he arrived, silence enveloped the two of you. The only sound in the room was Cleo’s collar from the other side of the room as she jumped onto the table to clean herself. You weren’t sure what to say after the load of information he gave you. But more importantly, how do you tell him that you’d been hearing a voice as well? How do you explain that his problem might be yours as well. Rather than stress him out further, you settled for simply watching him.

It wouldn’t give you the answers either of you needed, but it calmed the anxiety that flooded your veins.

Steven’s curls fell into his face as he sipped at the water you gave him. He truly was a lovely person to look at and you wondered why you hadn’t done this before. Took your time to admire him. Brown eyes met yours and a flutter went through your stomach at the realization that he was watching you as well. Neither of you had to say anything to each other. An already well known fact you both shared, but this felt different than all those other times.

The silence held a weight to it.

Whether it felt good or bad…you weren’t sure. Except you knew you didn’t want it to end.

“I missed you. A lot actually. I…couldn’t really sleep without you.” The words slipped free, breaking the ongoing silence. You didn’t mean to say it outloud—your mouth taking over before you could catch it—and so you waited with baited breath. Afraid of what he would say next.

Only this was Steven you were talking about. A man who always seemed to surprise you.

He set the glass down—rather clumsily—on the table, spilling some water as he did it before he leaned towards you. You didn’t expect his hand to cup your cheek, nor did you think he’d go so far as to press his lips to yours. Yet there you were. Kissing Steven as your brain attempts to catch up with what was happening. His lips moved slowly against yours, the slight awkwardness in his movements showing that he didn’t truly know what he was doing. He didn’t have to, because the second he began to pull away due to your lack of response…your brain finally caught on.

Inhaling sharply, you dug your hands into his hair, keeping his lips against yours as you returned the kiss with a heated fervor that had a surprised noise leaving his throat. You’d wanted to kiss him the day you got to know him; the feelings you’d been trying so hard to avoid now creeping their way back into your heart. They were fickle things—emotions—and yet you continued to allow them in.

It must be worth it if he came along with them. Him and his smile, his intelligence, and his sweetness. As sugary as the taste of his lips against yours.

Licking softly against his bottom lip, you waited patiently for him to venture further. Opening his mouth hesitantly and moaning as your tongue slid against his. It was a heady broken sound that sent heat straight down your spine, curling low in your stomach with every noise he made. You wanted to hear more. To know what would make him lose the control he so desperately tried to hang onto.

“Steven,” you gasped, pulling away. Only to have him seeking out your lips—his tongue now delving into your mouth curiously with a newfound confidence.

“Mm,” he mumbled.

“I–” Opening your eyes, you melted at the sight of him.

His eyes opened, lids drooping as a cloud of lust filled his pupil. The flush along his cheeks and swollen lips had every coherent thought falling from your mind. What were you about to tell him? Fuck, was it even important? Rather than try and drag it back into your hazed mind, you chose to reach for him instead. Slotting your lips against his as he swallowed your desperate moan—his hands curling around your waist.

The worry you’d been plagued with seemed to vanish for the briefest of moments as he let you in on how he was feeling. With any other man you’d assume this was simply a way to relieve the stress of the past few days. But this was Steven. The same man who wore his heart on his sleeve and found solace in your comfort—just as you did with him.

He shifted forward right as you shifted back, until you were pressed up against the arm of the couch—his hands digging into the cushion. Spreading your legs you let him rest comfortably in between them, the apparent bulge in his pants only spurred your kisses even further. Moaning softly, you tugged on his hair, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth and biting down gently to elicit a whine from him.

“Oh god–” He gasped, his head dropping back when your lips trailed down his jaw—nipping lightly at the skin of his throat.

What a lovely sight this was. Steven at your mercy—his eyes fluttering shut and hands grasping for purchase on the couch. Smiling against his throat, you sucked a mark into it—a small reminder for later of what happened. Only he seemed to react to just that, a groan tearing from his throat and his hips rolling against yours.

The pressure against your clothed core sent sparks down your skin, a breathy moan of his name falling from your lips like a prayer as he did it again. Meeting his movements, you clutched onto his jacket, dragging his lips back to yours—something warm building in your body. Gasps and moans were shoved into the kiss, his hips thrusting quicker against your own until as you practically wrapped yourself around him. Desperate for the release that was building steadily in your body; turning your veins molten.

“Steven—oh—I think I might—fuck that feels good,” you stuttered, the pressure nearly blinding you as it rose to a crescendo you could practically hear thrumming in the air. 

He was biting down on his bottom lip, to the point where you expected blood to appear. So you tugged on his mouth, opening it and watching as his eyes met yours—the glazed over look driving you even further to the release you were grasping for. You half expected him to merely grunt, make sounds, but no…what came out of his mouth was far better than any.

“Oh fuck I didn’t think th–this would happen,” he gasped, his eyes falling shut. “I thought about it.”

“You did?” Nodding, he shifted his hips—the quick thrusts now putting pressure directly on your clit and making your toes curl.

“I–I thought about kissing you and—oh fuck, fuck, fuck—what you would taste like.”

A cry of his name left your lips as you were shoved right to the edge, the blinding pleasure of your climax mere inches away from you. Until…the damn cat decided she had enough of being ignored. A loud clatter echoed in the background, startling you and Steven to a point of nearly shouting. He froze, head shooting up as you twisted rather painfully to get a look at Cleo who has apparently chosen her bowl as her new toy.

The tendrils of your orgasm faded away and you felt like a bucket of ice water had been dunked over the both of you. Steven shifted, his eyes wide and face tinged with red. But not before you managed to drag him in for one more kiss—a long slow paced one that kept the taste of him in your mouth and had him moaning one last time. With a disgruntled look at your cat—who blinked innocently at you—the both of you sat up and fixed your clothes.

“That was—” you began, feeling the heat build under your cheeks.

“I didn’t mean to…”

You smiled. “I liked it.”

“Yeah?” he asked, a sliver of disbelief showing in his eyes.

“I might be strangling my cat later for ruining my first good orgasm in months, but I really liked it.”

He laughed, his eyes crinkling slightly as your hand reached for his. “It was good?”

The fact that he was so uncertain about how you felt made your heart flutter even more. This man…held you in his grasp without even knowing it. Leaning forward, you nudge your nose along his, brushing your parted lips together until you hear the shuddered breath he took in. If it wasn’t for Cleo, you’d have him inside of you by now and that thought alone was enough to make a shiver run down your spine.   

“Steven, I was ready to ride you on this couch because of it.”

He gulped, the lust clouding his eyes once more and bringing the heat back into your veins. If you weren’t careful, that’s exactly what would happen. You wanted it to happen. Except the meow of your cat ruined the moment again—further cementing your decision to lock her in your bedroom next time. With a sigh, you pulled away and got up on shaky legs.

“Would you like some food?”

Steven didn’t fare any better than you as he stumbled after you into the kitchen. “Yeah sure why not. What did you have in mind?”

“I could make…toast?”

He smiled, reaching for the loaf of bread on the counter. “You’re in luck, love. I make the best toast in all of London.”

“Oh yeah?” You giggled, stepping aside to let him reach the toaster. “Well go on then toast master, show me how it's done.”

Laughter filled the kitchen, the comfortable sensation you had missed now filling your flat. It dawned on you as you watched him move around with ease, that you could get used to this. Him being in your life. You had yet to realize that you were already used to it—far more than you should have been. Watching Steven with a smile, you were oblivious to the white figure that stood out on your balcony, the shadow from earlier curling around its legs as your cat stood beside the door. 

Her eyes trained directly on him as he watched the both of you intently.

#steven grant x fem!reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #steven grant x y/n #steven grant #moon knight #moon knight fic #moon knight fanfiction #khonshu #my writing

[christinebloodwrittings]

Loki and shrunken y/n story prompt : Y/n "I am not an animal you can’t earn my trust by speaking softly to me and giving me food "Loki " y/n but you love it when I speak softly to you and give you food " Y/n " Yes but when YOU do it it's sweet and endearing, when other people do it not so much"

You ask, I write! Thank you so much for your request 💚💚

I hope you like it! 💖💖💖

*My requests are open*

Pairing: Loki x Tiny!Reader (7 Inches tall reader)

Words: 1614

Summary: Loki, reluctantly, joins the Avengers. In the middle of the presentations he recognized you, the one that he has been dreaming about.

Warnings: Not really, but Y/n is a little agressive XD.

Loki Taglist: @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @high-functioning-lokipath @thereadinggeek @lucky-foxface

Endearing, Darling.

A laugh, a voice, what a warm feeling. Then pain, her back hitting the floor, breaking the tiles and twisting her spine a little. For a human being that pain would have been immeasurable, but he is a god, his body mostly fixed itself.

The cuts on his face burned with every expression he made, in the window he reflected himself, at the same time that he watched the hell he had unleashed, he could never redeem himself from it.

"If someone really loves you, surely he will be able to omit certain details" there was that laugh again, soft, like the touch of a petal.

"Falling is not bad, but it is giving up and staying down biting mud. You can do it, show them that you are good" Her eyes, the warmth of the sun on her skin, her hands wrapping his, "Wake up" she whispered, “Wake up Loki” He felt a phantom kiss on his cheek, but when he blinked his vision cleared out and found Thor’s eyes instead.

His eyes were blue again, the effect of the scepter no longer possessed him. He was scared, Thor saw it in his eyes, "Come on, I'll take you home" Home? that's how he felt in that strange vision, who was that strange woman? And why did she show him so much affection?

The vision tormented him for days inside the cell to which he was confined, a fair punishment given his crimes. He spent the days trying to squeeze some clue into his memories that would lead him to discover the identity of the mystery girl. And what he discovered hit him just as hard as when the Hulk broke his spine.

Thor had convinced him to join, more or less, the Avengers. To his surprise, the girl in his visions was one of them, the problem? she was less than 30 centimeters tall.

"You must be Loki, my name is Y/n, nice to meet you!" you stretched out your little hand, he looking at you curiously, holding the urge to tease you, "For me, it's a pleasure to meet you" he said with a charming smile.

The chemistry flowed perfectly after that moment, the conversations were often long and easy to hold. So lost in each other, everyone else was able to see how much you two connected.

However, there was something that Loki was not aware of, your powerful and destructive anger. It doesn't destroy anything as such, but you scared even the Hulk himself.

“Hello my darling, how was your…day?” Loki saw you fuming, you passed him and you didn't even turn to look at him, it wasn't a common behavior, or so he thought.

"Stop there cowboy, if I were you, I'd leave her alone" Tony warned without looking up from his cell phone, "I understand that you want to help her, but in that state ... it's better to let her be" Loki turned to look closely at the corridor, not knowing how to act or if what you really needed was to be alone. He felt helpless.

It was dinner time, Natasha was the one who stopped him that time, telling Loki not to come to see you, obviously he didn't listen. He took the pizza plate that had been saved for you and a flan. It seemed unusual to him that no one dared to even try to help with whatever was happening to you, "She is not going to receive the food, I’m just saying" Clint added but Loki had already made up his mind.

You weren’t in your room, where could you have gone? After a while searching, he found you in the training room, hitting a sandbag between screams and tears, with fury and pain in your eyes you kept hitting everything your arms gave.

"Y/n, stop" Loki covered the sack with his hand, your knuckles hitting the inside of his hand, "Enough" he spoke softly as he took your hand between his fingers, "Loki" you called him through tears, you turned around lifting your arms, he understood and opened his hand to you, to which you climbed, his warmth embracing your body.

“Bad day?” you didn’t had the energy to shoot him an angry look, so you just nodded. “I brought you food” you made a grossed out face and shook your head, “Have you eaten anything since you came back from your mission?” you shook your head again, “At least half a slice, and I won’t bother you” you pouted but complied.

Loki realized all the repressed anger that you carried inside, you hid it behind that smile that he liked to get out of you so much.

"Y/n, you know you can count on me right?" You looked up to meet his worried expression, "I know" his opposite index finger passed under your arm to take your injured hand on his fingertip, "Then why carry this burden on your own?" you put the flan aside, accommodating yourself in his palm using his thumb as a backrest.

"Look at me Loki, I'm ridiculously small, I'd rather do this and fuck up my hands alone than someone comes to tell me that I look adorable angry, if you don't believe me ask Tony, he has a fork mark in his hand for that" He loved your fire, but hurt him to see you handle your hurt alone, so he decided to do something to take your anger away.

During that whole week he took it upon himself to buy or make you a sweet treat to lighten your spirits, and it worked like a charm, the others were shocked by this, since several had tried everything to help you but nothing ever worked.

One day, Loki couldn’t give you the treats, he was out on a mission. When he came back he found Nat bandaging Clint’s hand. “Your little girl sure is angry” he had texted Clint to give you the biscuits he baked, “I tried to speak nice to her but she stabbed me with a pencil when I called her doll” Clint chuckled, making Nat smile.

Loki nodded and thank his efforts, as well as apologizing for the assault, which Clint didn’t took personal. Then, he knocked at your door, “Y/n, are you ok love?” he opened the door after hearing a small hiss, he found you burning your open knuckles wounds with rubbing alcohol, he rushed to stop you, earning an angry look in return.

“You hit the sandbag again” he muttered, “I didn’t promised I wouldn’t do it anymore, I discovered your scheme” you turned your back at him, “Y/n, I was just trying to make you happy, to earn your trust, because you still don’t believe me when I tell you that you can count on me” he was hurt, his intentions weren’t bad, but you had seen this before.

"I am not an animal, you can’t earn my trust by speaking softly to me and giving me food" you turned around to face him, your anger almost dissipating when you saw the hurt in his eyes, "But you love it when I speak softly to you and give you food" he offered you his hand, his tone being cute, making you smile.

“Yes but when you do it, it's sweet and endearing, but when other people do it, not so much" you put emphasis in the ‘you’ poking his nose when he took you up to him, “I was on a mission, love, and I made those personally for that reason” now you felt horribly guilty.

“I’ll go and apologize to Clint, thank you Loki, and sorry for the drama” he put his lips next to your cheek to sweetly peck your cheekbone, “Later, you still have to make up to me for discard my cuisine” he pretended to be insulted and sad, just to see your reaction, “What can I do?” you blushed and pouted, you knew he wanted to do something embarrassing.

“Lay on my hand, on your belly my darling” you looked at him confused, thinking he was going to do something gross or perverted, you did as he told you, your head on his middle finger which he lay flat for you to be more comfortable, your torso straight down on his palm, and your legs resting on his wrist, “What are you gonna do?” he could hear the tremble in your voice, so he didn’t wasted any more time and kissed your lower back, releasing a tiny squeal from you.

He was squishing you with his hand and his lips so you were surrounded by him and squeezed by his warmth like a sandwich, not in a harsh way but in a sweet and loving way, kissing all over your back and the nape of your neck.

“Look at me darling” you hid your face in his finger and in between your arms, “N-No!” you stuttered, “Y/n, turn around so I can see you” he coaxed, making you roll on his hand revealing the furious red blush on your face, “You are so beautiful” he smooshed you again, this time his lips on your lips, “I hate you” he laughed, “I love you too”.

He did that often later, he loved feeling close to you, and you loved being surrounded by him. Eventually that became the thing that dissipated your anger, thinking of how close you could be with him made you feel all fuzzy inside, so you behaved so he could reward you with smooches and gentle squeezes.

After making your life easier, his dreams were all about you, you were his mystery woman, his little love and soulmate.

#loki series #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki x female reader #loki of asgard #loki #loki fic #loki x y/n #loki fanfiction #loki fics #loki angst #soulmate #mcu loki #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #avengers

[loousir]

Neighbours {Uno}

Uno x Male Reader

Anime: Nanbaka

Warnings: Uhm, this one might be weirdly written...

Masterlist

Originally Posted on January 4, 2021

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"Ow! That was really unnecessary!" You yelled at who you know as Supervisor Sugoroku. "It was more than necessary considering you're being a pain." He said locking the cell you were thrown in. You groaned and explored your cell a bit.

Building 13, cell 12, inmate number (#)

(F/N) (L/N)

You sighed as you laid down in the middle of the room, not knowing what to do since you knew you were being watched extra considering this was the third building you've been transferred to. You started out in building 5 with Samon but it quickly turned out that you really liked to slip out of his grasp and run off to building 3.

Kiji didn't mind too much that you got transferred into his building considering you always called him out if his makeup was off or fading. He really appreciated you for that until you offered to do his makeup and make him look like a clown. Or at least more of one than he already was.

Finally you were transferred to building 13. That was where you would be from now on considering Supervisor Sugoroku wouldn't take any of your shit. You were told about the boys in the next cell over but didn't really think it was true until you heard the alarm go off. You scrambled to your feet to see what was going on and saw the four infamous inmates run by. The guy with long pink and blonde braided hair really caught your eye.

"How does someone even get hair that long.." You asked yourself softly. Right as you said that, the supervisor ran by. "I can see why they put me here." You said out loud as you laid out your blanket. It was getting late so you decided to just try and sleep.

Before you drifted off into the only peaceful place in this prison, you heard a faint, "Hajime, you didn't tell us we have a new neighbor!"

~The Next Morning~

You felt something poking your face, thinking it was your cell mate so you just ignored it.

Wait.. I don't have a cell mate anymore.

You shot up and slapped the hand away, becoming defensive and glaring at the person who was poking you. "Jeez man chill! I thought you died in your sleep or something, we've been here for a while now." You noticed it was the blonde from yesterday. Looking around him you saw the other three guys he was running with.

"I have two questions. How the hell did you get in here and why." You more or less stated than asked. "Well, my pal Jyugo here is the key to the world so we slipped out of our cell, as usual, and snuck into yours while you were sleeping!" You tilted your head slightly and raised a brow. "So you're saying hes good a lock picking?" The boy with green hair nodded. "Yup!"

"Now, why are you four in here again?" You said looking around, seeing their numbers. "15, 11, 25, and 69. So you four are the ones that are always trying to escape right?" 11 nodded. "And we came in to see who you were, Hajime didn't tell us we had a new neighbor." "I can understand why he didn't say anything.." You mumbled. "Hey I heard that! It wasn't even my idea." 69 said crossing his arms.

"Yeah, it was all Uno's idea!" 25 said copying 69's pose. "I'm guessing that's you." You said pointing to the mentioned male. "That's him." 15 said. "Anyway, now that you know why we're here, mind introducing yourself?" Uno said sitting next to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You instantly tensed up and tried to push him away but he didn't budge.

"So.. My options are respond to the questions or wait till the Supervisor comes.." You accidentally said out loud. "I mean, pretty much." 15 said. You sighed and said, "(Y/N). I'm a transfer from building 3. Number (#)." 11's eyes widened slightly. "Wait you came from building 3?" You nodded. "I was originally from building 5."

"That's crazy. What did you do to get transferred twice?" 69 asked. "Well I liked to run away from Samon to building 3 so they shoved me there with Kiji." You said shrugging. 11 still hung on your shoulder as you talked, staring at the side of your face. You could feel his eyes watching your mouth move. "In few words, I made Kiji look like a clown. And that's how I got here."

You stood up leaving 11 on the bed behind you. "Mind telling my your names since this is my cell after all?" You said standing by the window. "My name's Nico!" The boy with green hair perked up. "This is Rock, Jyugo, and Uno." He said pointing to each as he said their name. You turned your head to Jyugo and analyzed his face. He looked uncomfortable as you stared him down.

You did the same to the other three. Rock didn't seem fazed by the staring and Nico just smiled brightly at you. Uno on the other hand just smirked at you. "Like what you see?" He asked, the cocky tone in his voice showing clearly. "No." You said straight faced. A look of hurt quickly replaced his smirk.

I love what I see.

You went back over to window and stared out of it. "We should get back before someone comes by." Uno said, sounding hurt by your words but clearly trying to cover it so no one would ask. "Bye (Y/N)!" Nico said as they walked out. "Uno, quit being so pouty." Rock said once they were outside. They said something else but you didn't hear. You yawned and continued to look out the window until one of the guards came by.

"(#), its time to go eat." They said unlocking your cell. You nodded and held out your hands to be cuffed. The bluenette looked at your hands before looking back at you. "Just come on." He said leading you to the cafeteria. Once you entered you looked around and noticed the boys from cell 13 sitting down and eating. You didn't want to bug them so you found a different spot before going to get some food.

After getting your meal of choice, you sat down at the empty table and started to eat. Damn, this is way better than the other buildings.. You thought to yourself as you continued to eat. While you did so, you didn't notice the pair of blue eyes staring at you again. It's a lot calmer here, kinda nice.. You scanned the room and looked at the people who stayed in the same building as you. While your eyes were examining your surroundings you locked eyes with a certain someone you didn't expect to be staring.

The both of you stared at each other before you broke eye contact, a slight blush on your face. Even though you two were a distance away you could see his eyes perfectly. You reached into your pocket and pulled out a gemstone, almost identical to his eye color. You quickly slipped it back into your pocket once you heard footsteps growing closer. "Hey neighbor~" Uno said sitting close to you, close enough your sides were touching.

"What do you want." You said as you continued to eat. "So cold. I was wondering what you just slipped back into your pocket." He said sneakily reaching to grab it out of your pocket while you ate. "Uno don't even try." You said looking over to him. The both of you locked eyes again and he was the one who broke the gaze. "What? I wasn't trying anything!" He said acting as if he did nothing. "Suure.." You said as you started to eat again.

The two of you were quiet for a moment before he spoke up. "Did you really mean what you said earlier?" He asked with his head laying on the table. You looked over to him, surprised by his calm tone. It was silent for a second before you answered. "Yeah, I just think you took it in a different way than I intended." His head tilted slightly as he looked at you from the table top. "What do you mean by that?"

"Think about it. If someone said no to liking something whats the other reason they would say no? And I don't mean because they dislike it." You said while you finish what you had. Uno looked confused as he thought. "I still don't get what you mean." He said looking at you again.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?"

Uno had a shocked yet understanding look on his face. "I'm guessing it finally clicked." You said smirking. "Alright! Back to your cells!" One of the gaurds yelled. You stood up to throw your plate away but Uno stopped you. "I'll be at your cell in a few." You raised a brow and rolled your eyes as he walked off to join the others. You did the same and headed back to your cell.

Once you got back to your cell you went to your bed to sit and read. You chose a random book and started to read. A slight breeze made its way past you, causing you to shiver. Its way colder here. You thought as you continued to read. As you got lost in the sea of words you were pulled out of it when your door opened. Uno and Jyugo were standing there. "Thanks Jyugo!" Uno said walking in. Jyugo just nodded and shut the door behind Uno and walked back to his cell.

You marked your place and set it aside as Uno joined you on the bed. "So what did you come here for?" You asked looking over to him. "I never answered your question!" He said with a smile on his face. "Which one?" You asked tilting your head slightly. "You really forgot? This just happened." He said getting a bit closer. You backed up slightly only for him to keep getting closer. Eventually you ended up against the wall and Uno had you trapped under him.

"What are y--!!" Uno closed the gap between the two of you with a kiss. Your eyes widened slightly as a blush dusted your cheeks. You didn't kiss back due to shock. He pulled away and looked into your eyes, his blue ones showing brightly. "Yes, I do believe in love at first sight." He said kissing you again. You closed your eyes and kissed back. You could feel him smirk against your lips before he pulled away.

You blushed and looked away from him. "I'm gonna get going before I get in trouble." He said getting up and walking over to the door. "See ya later!~" He said walking out.

You glared at the door and rolled your eyes. Reaching into your pocket you felt that the gemstone wasn't there. "You piece of shit!" You yelled going to the door. Uno just laughed and went back into his cell. "Y'know Uno, that looks just like your eyes!" You heard Nico say. "Yeah, it kinda does! No wonder he likes me so much." Uno said just loud enough for you to hear, knowing you were still listening. You groaned and laid down on the bed.

Stupid cute asshole

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1905

#m4m #mxm #x male reader #uno x male reader #nanbaka x male reader

[starlight-loki]

The Thin Line Between Life and Death (Loki x Mystic!Reader) -- PART 1

Or, That Time You and Loki Saved the World

Request: is it alright if you do a loki x reader fic where reader's got powers like strange and wields one of the infinity stones and almost dies trying to save everyone? -- requested by anon

Warnings: this is darker than other fics i've written so far: descriptions of nausea, mentions of anxiety, and major character deaths (but not Loki, I promise).

Word Count: 4.8k (hooo weeee man, if I didn't split this into 2 parts it would've been like... over 10k omg)

A/N: For context, please read this headcanon first if you'd like to know a bit more about the reader and Loki's relationship as well as to sort of set the scene for this fic -- otherwise, if you're cool with jumping right in, enjoy! This was so much fun to write :)

Also this doesn't follow the events of Infinity War/Endgame at all; this is sort of... my take on it, I guess you could say?

Everything started going downhill when you began getting visions.

They weren't anything concerning at first, in fact they were almost cryptic, really: manifesting themselves in your dreams in subtle -- almost metaphoric -- ways. First it was simply the colour orange, which then progressed to flashes of amber light at random occasions during the events of your dreams, then it became fire. For a while, fire consumed your dreams nearly every night, burning through cities, forests, and even planets.

The Ancient One had told you from the start that dreams carried messages from your subconscious. They weren't something to be dismissed, even the most simplest elements. They were to be respected, listened to, and were meant to encourage you to shift mentally and emotionally in indescribable ways.

You figured the fire was symbolic for the stress and worry you were feeling, with everything moving so quickly over the last few days.

After all, the threat of Thanos was looming more and more. No longer was he a whispered rumour that was occasionally passed around at dinnertime with the rest of the Avengers. He was an actual threat now, and the Avengers were holding meetings twice a day to try and develop a plan of attack.

He had the power stone. It was only a matter of time before he found the others.

Twenty-four hours before everything changed, a vision came to you differently than all the others.

You were in the kitchen preparing lunch for yourself when your ears began ringing. Whispers filled your mind from the inside and spoke to you in a language you didn't understand, yet chilled you to the bone at the same time. There was a blinding flash of light that nearly paralyzed you, and as you strained to focus your eyes, you noticed a small orange stone materialize in front of you.

The soul stone.

It glided closer and closer to you, and as it did so the whispers grew louder. The lives of thousands flashed before your eyes. Their deaths did, as well. It was showing you the cycle of humanity -- birth, life, death, repeat -- almost taunting you that this seemingly inevitable thing could be controlled.

You gasped, dropped the plate in your hands accidentally. It fell to the floor with an earsplitting crash, and as quickly as the soul stone arrived, it disappeared in a swirl of orange smoke.

Your hands were shaking as you knelt down to collect the bigger pieces of the now-shattered plate. A hand on your back made you flinch in surprise and you instinctively curled closer towards the kitchen cabinets in an attempt to protect yourself.

"It's just me." Loki's soft voice seemed foggy and distant as your brain continued to adjust from the voices and the ringing you had just heard. "Are you hurt?"

You shook your head and sunk to the floor, half in defeat and half in relief that you weren't alone anymore. These visions were growing far too intense for you to handle.

You looked up at Loki, who exchanged an anxious expression with you. His green eyes searched your face, seemingly looking for an explanation of what had just happened to you.

"I saw something," you whispered, absentmindedly gripping the plate shard in your hand tighter. "Loki, I think I saw the soul stone."

His eyes widened as he knelt down beside you and gently pried the glass out of your grip, setting it down out of your reach. He replaced the broken piece in your hand with his own, and you sighed shakily as his thumb gently stroked the top of your hand.

"Did it show you anything?" He asked quietly, and you nodded quickly in response.

"I saw life, death... everything." You felt far removed from you own voice, almost like it didn't belong to you. "It's been happening in dreams too, but I've never seen the stone itself before."

You gazed at Loki, who almost seemed to disappear into his own thoughts at your mention of the visions you saw. You knew all too well about the Tesseract, and the way it had tormented Loki once before. The infinity stones were not gentle to humans, or gods for that matter.

"Do you think this has something to do with Thanos?" You asked, your voice trembling as you whispered. "Do you think maybe he managed to get the soul stone?"

Loki shook his head slowly, but it wasn't without hesitation.

"The soul stone is far away on Vormir. It's guarded heavily. I doubt-"

"Hey, you two okay?"

You glanced up quickly just as Tony stepped into the room. His eyes swept over the mess of a broken plate on the floor before landing on you and Loki, huddled together in the corner of the kitchen as if your lives depended on it.

Tony looked as exhausted as you felt. No one had really slept well in the last few days, but you couldn't imagine what it was like for Tony: he had been staying up until ungodly hours of the morning with Steve, Vision, and Rhodey, trying to formulate a plan of attack.

"Yeah," you shook your head as you tried to clear the last of the visions out of your mind. "Sorry, that was an accident. I'm just... really tired."

Tony gave a perfectly-timed yawn as he knelt down and began to pick up the broken pieces of the plate you dropped.

"I feel ya, kid."

You watched as him and Loki exchanged resigned nods of acknowledgement, and you grabbed Loki's hand before he could step forward to help Tony clean up the mess.

Should I tell him? You asked telepathically. About the soul stone?

Loki gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

Not yet. His voice echoed through your mind like the whispers from the soul stone moments ago, bringing you warmth rather than fear. Until we fully understand why these visions are occurring, I believe it would be best to not burden Stark with any more details. It would only cause more problems.

You nodded in agreement as you pushed yourself up onto your feet shakily. You stepped forward to help Tony clean up the mess, only feel your head spin violently. You lurched forward, grabbing onto the counter as you tried to stop yourself from falling.

"Hey, whoa!" Tony sprang up and grabbed your shoulders just as you felt Loki's arms wrap around your waist in an effort to keep you standing. "Easy there, kid. Jesus, are you okay?"

"I feel sick." You mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to keep the room from spinning. Even with two people supporting your weight, you still felt as though you were going to fall over.

"Go sleep, okay?" Tony told you sternly. You made a sound of protest and tried to help him continue cleaning up. Tony shook his head in response.

"Don't worry about this, we'll clean it up." His gaze shifted over to Loki, who still held you tightly. You could feel his hands trembling ever-so-slightly, and you placed your own hand over his weakly as you attempted to silently reassure him that you'd be okay.

"Loki, make sure Y/N gets some rest."

"I will."

Loki scooped you up into his arms in one fluid motion, causing you to wince as spots danced in your vision. You buried your head against his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to hold yourself together.

Has this ever happened to you? You manage to ask Loki telepathically as he set you carefully down on your bed. He brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face before crawling into bed beside you.

Not to this degree, he replied. You couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped your lips as he gently pulled you close, cradling the back of your head. The infinity stones all have variable levels of energy, but I have never dealt with the soul stone before.

Do you mean their frequencies vary depending on their roles?

Precisely.

You sighed defeatedly, troubled by the fact that -- out of all the infinity stones -- the one that boasted power over life and death itself just had to come find you.

You knew mystics seemed to have some sort of connection to the stones, seeing as Stephen knew the time stone and guarded it with his life. You had hoped, though, that if another stone were to find its way somehow to another mystic, it would be Wong, not you.

Loki nudged your chin up ever so slightly with his fingertips, encouraging you to look up at him. He gave you a warm, gentle smile as he caressed your cheek slowly.

"Rest now," he whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead softly. "I will stay with you, I promise."

You nodded halfheartedly in response. Every cell in your being longed for nothing more but rest, yet at the same time you were afraid to close your eyes in case the soul stone was still lurking somewhere in your mind. Waiting for you.

It felt as though you had only just closed your eyes, when the sound of thunder jolted you out of your sleep. You felt weightless as you opened your eyes slowly, taking in the purple hues of clouds above you. As you felt yourself float higher, you realized with a sickening sinking feeling that your body was still in your bed, far away from where you currently were.

Your spirit had separated from your physical body, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't seem to be able to get back.

You glanced upward as you continued your ascent just as two towering structures came into view at the top of a cliff. The whispers that had filled your mind earlier that day resumed, and you cried out in fear, clutching your head in your hands. It only made them grow stronger.

As flashes of orange began filling your vision, your blood ran cold as you realized where you were.

Somehow, your spirit had found its way to Vormir.

Reaching the top of the cliff, you stepped carefully onto the platform just as a hooded figure glided towards you.

Never before has this stone ever summoned a soul into its presence. A chill ran up your spine as the guardian's voice echoed in your mind, crackling like ice.

Many have sought this stone, but it belongs to no one.

"So why did it bring me here?" You demanded, curling your arms around your middle in an attempt control your nerves. You were vulnerable here. You were powerless without your physical body -- incantations and even the mirror realm would be of no use to you in this state.

The soul stone seems to have taken a certain interest in you. It sees potential... for what is yet to come.

"I don't understand." Your own voice seemed to wrap around you in an endless echo. You instinctively took a step back as your head spun from sensory overload.

You walk the line between the living and the dead, mystic.

"But I'm not the only mystic. There's more out there like me, surely they experienced the same thing? I mean, there's Stephen-"

No. Your breath caught in your throat as the hooded figure raised its head to gaze at you, and your eyes met fiery blood red irises. You turned your gaze to the ground in an attempt to divert your fear and calm your racing heart.

Stephen Strange is already in possession of the time stone, the guardian explained slowly. There are no other mystics who possess the strength -- or courage -- to cross over into the land of the dead.

"But I'm not dead." You protested, ignoring the small voice in the back of your mind that drew your attention back to the fact that you were currently a spirit on another planet, far away from your body. "I... I've been training in the mystic arts for a few years now. Never in my life has anything like this happened. Why now am I suddenly getting visions?"

There is another who seeks the soul stone as we speak, the guardian replied. To your relief, it kept its distance from you. He yearns to own it.

"Thanos," you whispered, feeling a cold chill run up your spine as you spoke his name.

Yes, mystic, the guardian nodded solemnly. However, there are elements of the soul stone that the Titan has not tried to understand. Just like how life and death are two sides of the same coin, so too does the soul stone have another aspect.

You gasped as the soul stone materialized in front of you, hovering level with your line of sight just like when you were in the kitchen back at the Compound. You watched as it began to spin, gradually growing faster and faster, until it split neatly into two halves.

The soul stone embodies both the physical and the spiritual, and thus each aspect is acquired through complete mastery of its respective lesson.

The guardian's words echoed in your mind as you gazed at the fragments of the soul stone curiously. The fear you had felt in connection with your earlier visions was gone now. In its place, all you felt was awe.

As one of the pieces of the soul stone began gliding closer to you, you reached out your hand in an attempt to touch it. It looked so warm, so inviting. You longed to know what it would feel like to hold a piece of ancient power in your hands.

No.

You flinched, glancing at the guarding whose voice boomed in your head. As if to reinforce his words, the shards of the soul stone vanished into thin air.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" You asked quietly. "You said there's a connection between myself and the soul stone, I don't understand."

You must earn it. It does not come willingly to anyone.

"Then I don't want it." You shook your head, taking a step back. "I don't know why any of this is happening, but I want it to stop. I want to go home."

Very well.

The guardian raised his hand, and you felt yourself being pulled backwards slowly, back the way you came.

I offer you a piece of advice, mystic, the voice in your mind echoed out louder than ever. In order to gain the physical shard of the stone, you must lose the one you love. To gain the spirit shard, you must know the path that leads you back to them.

There was a sharp tug around your middle, and you felt your heart freeze in your chest as you began plummeting down the cliff. You squeezed your eyes shut as the wind echoed like a jet plane in your ears.

Remember this, the guardian's voice was distant now. You had to strain to register the words in your mind. The spirit shard cannot be found on Vormir. The fate of the physical shard is being decided as we speak. Use this knowledge wisely, mystic.

An image flashed in your mind of a titan ascending the mountain, towards the top of the cliff upon which your spirit had just stood. You caught a glint of purple, blue, and red flash from his hand.

You gasped, bolting upright as the heavy sensation that accompanied falling back into your body ran through you. You were trembling, drenched in a cold sweat, and you yelped as two hands planted themselves firmly on your shoulders.

"Relax!" Your heart sped up in your chest as you tried to fight off whoever was holding onto you. "Y/N, relax, it's me!"

Loki came into focus in front of you, his eyes never straying from yours as you tried to catch your breath. His hands were steady, but you caught a flash of fear in his eyes as he gazed at you.

"What happened?" He whispered, pulling you into a protective and firm embrace. Your breath caught in your throat as your mind wandered back to the visions that flashed behind your eyes moments before you woke up.

"Thanos." Your voice felt far away, almost foreign to you, as you replied softly. Your trembling hands reached up to pull Loki even closer to you. You were afraid you'd lose control and end up separated from your body again. You didn't want to be alone once more.

"What?"

"Thanos." You repeated again, glancing out the window into the now-darkened sky to make sure you were no longer on Vormir. You couldn't trust yourself. "Loki, I saw him. He's got more stones. He found the Tesseract."

Loki pushed you away, only to wrap his hands firmly around your arms. The fear he had hidden so well moments ago was dancing like fire in his eyes.

"That's impossible," he said slowly, and you weren't sure if those words were for you, or if they were an attempt to convince himself. "You hid the Tesseract yourself, you took it from me and-"

"I know what I did." You snapped. You winced as Loki recoiled away from you ever-so-slightly. "I'm sorry. I'm just... Look, you have to believe me Loki. Please. I was on Vormir, or at least my spirit was. The guardian of the soul stone was there, it spoke to me, I-"

"I believe you." Loki's soft whisper stopped the rambling thoughts that were pouring out of your mouth, and you nearly cried in relief at his words. His expression softened as he took in your torn, distressed expression, and he kissed your forehead softly.

"I believe you." He repeated again, pulling you close.

"We don't have much time." Your voice felt tight in your throat as you spoke. "Right before I woke up, I saw Thanos approaching Vormir. The rest of the stones are on Earth, Loki. I think he's coming here next."

"We need to tell the others."

"Will they know what to do?"

Loki's gaze burned into yours determinedly as he took your hand and helped you up off your bed.

"All we can do is hope."

The two of you raced down the hall, pounding on every door you passed as you tried to wake everyone up at once. Tired groans of protest echoed from within a few rooms, only encouraging you to knock even louder on the Avengers' doors.

"Everyone up!" You exclaimed. You couldn't ignore the way your voice and hands trembled as you made your way down the hall. "Emergency meeting, now!"

The Compound slowly came to life once more as you and Loki reached the end of the hall, and the two of you were met with numerous confused and somewhat alarmed looks.

"What's going on?" Steve asked, effortlessly keeping up with your strides as you made your way to the meeting room.

"Y/N had a vision." Loki explained, taking your hand and giving it a small squeeze in an attempt to comfort you. "Thanos is coming."

"What!?" Bruce's shocked exclamation echoed out from behind you as he jogged to keep up. "We were monitoring his whereabouts, just a few hours ago he was still light years away from Earth looking for the other five infinity stones-"

"Yeah, well, he's managed to get two more," You answered as you sat yourself down in a chair in the meeting room. Loki sat close beside you, resting his knee against yours in a silent gesture, as if to communicate he was right by your side through all of this.

"He's on Vormir as we speak," you continued as everyone took their seats around the table. "He's looking for the soul stone. That's infinity stone number four. He'll be coming for us next."

"How do you know that?" Natasha's question sounded out from the other side of the room.

"There's six stones in total, right?"

Your question earned slow nods from the Avengers sitting around you.

"I saw his glove. He's got the power stone -- as we know -- as well as the reality stone, and now the space stone too."

"The Tesseract was destroyed along with Asgard." Thor remarked, frowning as he took in your words. You looked over at Loki quickly, the two of you exchanging anxious glances, before you looked back at Thor and shook your head.

"The Tesseract was... misplaced." You answered slowly.

Everyone flinched as Thor banged his fist against the table, his gaze immediately shifting away from you as realization burned in his eyes.

"Loki!"

"I assure you brother-"

"I knew it was a bad idea bringing Rock of Ages here onto the team." Tony interrupted pointing an accusatory finger at Loki. Several other Avengers nodded in agreement.

"It wasn't his fault!" You exclaimed loudly. The room felt silent as everyone frowned at you in confusion. "It was mine. I should've destroyed it but I didn't. I just opened a portal and... threw it in."

"Do you know where it went?" Steve asked you.

"At the time, I didn't. I had no idea Thanos was out there looking for the stones at the same time. I just wanted that thing far away from us. It's caused enough trouble, and we didn't need any more."

Loki squeezed your hand and gave you a soft smile as he heard your reply.

"There are two stones left," you continued, glancing around the room worriedly as you thought about the threat of Thanos looming over your team like a dark shadow. "Stephen is guarding the time stone downtown. Assuming he's kept his guard up as usual, he'll be one step ahead of Thanos and he'll already be taking precautions to keep it out of his reach."

You paused, glancing nervously over at Vision. His eyes met yours in understanding, and he gave the slightest nod in acknowledgement.

"The other stone," you continued quietly. "Is right here in this room with us."

A strange humming sound caused a hushed silence to fall over the Compound. You frowned, straining your ears as you tried to listen.

"Does anyone else hear that-"

Tony's question was cut off by an explosion that took out the entire side wall of the Compound. The force of the blast knocked you to the ground, and your ears rang violently as you tried to orient yourself once more with your surroundings.

"This is too easy. Everyone in one room together, how... pathetic."

You glanced up to see Thanos looming over everyone, an already victorious grin on his face as he examined the aftermath of the blast he had caused.

"I would've thought you'd make it more difficult for me."

The stones on Thanos' gauntlet began to glow, and you felt an arm yank you backwards and into their grasp before a ray of purple light blasted throughout the room. You glanced behind you to find Loki, his jaw clenched as he stared in fear towards Thanos, before casting a protective spell over the two of you.

You tried to pull away, to gather up the other members of the team and bring them to safety, but Loki's grip was firm and unrelenting.

"They need help!" You exclaimed in protest. "Everyone's vulnerable, all our defense and weapons are two floors down-"

"You go over there, and you'll get killed." Loki muttered through gritted teeth. "I can't lose you. Stay here."

"But-"

"Stay here!"

Loki trembled as he tried to keep his shield up. Pressing yourself closer to him, you cast the strongest protective spell you knew and placed it overtop of his. Green and gold magic intertwined together, forming a tightly-knit dome over the two of you.

"I think I can get Bruce," you whispered, nodding towards the corner of the room. "He's not very far-"

Your idea was suddenly interrupted as Thanos raised his gauntlet, and the soul stone began to glow.

You watched in horror as every member of your team outside of your protective dome was wrapped in an orange aura, and lifted off the ground.

"No!" You yelled, stumbling forward and pushing your protective spell further outwards in an attempt to save those closest to you. A spark of energy backfired, burning your hands and causing you to stumbled back with a cry of pain.

"I can't get to them," you gasped, glancing at Loki in horror. "I can't get past the soul stone."

Thanos heard your words, and he shifted his gaze in your direction with narrowed eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" You demanded, watching as Steve and Tony, among others, struggled to be released from the titan's invisible grasp.

"Those who play hero only bring more war," Thanos stated, glancing behind your shoulder at Loki and smiling coldly. "I'm putting an end to this child's play, once and for all."

"Let them go!" You yelled, reaching forward in a weak attempt to save your teammates. Your gesture only earned a piteous laugh from the titan.

"You're choosing to play a bold game, mystic." Thanos continued. "By keeping that shield of yours up, you're creating more pain. All you are doing is delaying your death."

"It'll give us more time to plot yours." Loki retorted from behind you with gritted teeth.

"Bold as ever, Asgardian." Thanos smirked. "But not strong enough. Neither of you are."

You glanced desperately over at Tony for any sort of help, but all you exchanged were helpless glances.

"There will be no more heroes," Thanos boomed, raising his gauntlet triumphantly. The soul stone began to glow once more. "No more martyrs. No more humans. Only gods."

"I believe in you, kid." Tony gasped out. "You can do this."

"I can't." You cried out, your heart racing as you glanced between your teammates and Thanos. "I don't know how."

You managed to catch a determined nod from Tony, before a loud snap reverberated through the room, knocking you and Loki backwards.

There was a gust of cold air as Thanos opened a portal with the space stone, smirking victoriously down at the two of you.

"We'll meet again, mystic."

Thanos pulled a now-unconscious Vision towards him with his gauntlet and disappeared, the portal closing as soon as it opened. You lowered your shield to run for your teammates, who were still hovering unconscious in mid-air, only to be stopped by Loki.

"Look."

You watched in horror as, one by one, each member of the Avengers dissolved into ash and vanished before your eyes. Crying out in disbelief, you lowered your protection spell and raced forward before Loki could protest.

"Tony!"

You tried to reach for his hand, to pull him out of the orange aura that held him captive. As soon as your fingers brushed his, he turned to ash immediately.

You sunk to your knees, the sudden silence that fell over the Compound feeling like a graveyard. You heard Loki run towards Thor, calling his name over and over again, before he too fell silent.

You caught his gaze from across the room, and a cold chill shook your insides as his eyes mirrored the same terror you felt inside yourself.

Unable to find the strength to stand, you crawled over to where he sat and buried your face in his shoulder. As soon as Loki's arms wrapped around you, you were unable to stop the sobs that wracked your body. You felt him trembling and realized that he, too, was crying.

"They're all gone." You whispered, your voice distorted through your tears. "Everyone's gone."

Loki didn't reply. Instead, he pulled you closer and ran his hands in small circles upon your back, almost as if he were memorizing the feel of you in his arms.

The sound of your cries echoed out through the Compound and reverberated back towards the two of you, piercing your skin like little knives. You squeezed shut your eyes, hoping that this was all a bad dream and -- when you opened your eyes again -- the Avengers would be right back in this room with you and Loki, ready to formulate a plan of attack.

When you opened your eyes, however, nothing changed.

There was only one infinity stone left.

Everyone was gone, leaving only you and Loki.

Thanos had won.

END OF PART ONE.

Taglist: @startrekkingaroundasgard @delightfulheartdream @justasmisunderstoodasloki @marvels-mischief @k8obr @pastyoverlord265 @lowkeytesss @levylovegood

Taglist for this fic only: @littleredstarfish @treblebeth @taylordani03

#loki x reader #loki x mystic!reader #loki x gender neutral reader #loki imagine #loki laufeyson #mcu loki #the avengers #infinity war #endgame #loki laufeyson imagine #loki x reader headcanon #loki hc #loki headcanon #loki x reader imagine

[fruitcoops]

I love your babysitting jules fic and the tell me how you know your boyfriend won't cheat on you fic. I was thinking, like remus and sirius have a day off and spend it with jules, and sirius goes somewhere and comes back to find remus and jules sleeping on the flour and they look similar and he just smiles.

Idk, hope this makes sense, I love all your fics.

It totally makes sense and it’s super cute! Thanks for such a wonderful suggestion <3 This is Part 4 of Adventures in Babysitting (1 2 3)

Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

As much as Sirius loved hockey, he had to admit break days were his favorite part of the week. Most weekends, he and Remus would roll out of bed sometime around eleven, have lunch, go for a walk, and then turn into total couch potatoes if they didn’t have anything important to do.

But they had a kid now, so that plan had to change.

They managed to stay in bed until nine before soft rustling sounds began in Jules’ room—Remus’ aggressive cuddling delayed them for a bit longer, which Sirius did not have any complaints about, but eventually they knew it was time to move.

“Dinner’s at six, right?” Sirius asked as he washed his face while Remus tracked down a t-shirt. Shirtless mornings were another tragic sacrifice while Jules was around.

“Yep. Dumo said we could get there at five-thirty, though. Apparently, Katie’s been dying to see Jules again.” Remus kissed the back of his shoulder as he reached for a toothbrush. “I was thinking we could just let him choose what we do today.”

“Makes it a lot easier on us.”

“And it makes it extra special for him,” Remus mumbled around a mouthful of toothpaste. “We still get veto power, though.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

Jules was still in his bedroom when they went downstairs and for a fleeting moment, Sirius wondered if they had woken up early for nothing. “He’ll be down soon,” Remus said as if he could read his mind, pressing two coffee cups into Sirius’ hands. “All those cool knickknacks in the guest room will keep him distracted for a bit.”

Sure enough, excited footsteps followed a sharp gasp less than ten minutes later. Remus smiled over the rim of his coffee cup and walked over to the pantry to pull out the pancake mix. “Morning—"

“Is it true you won the regional All-Stars when you were in high school?” Jules blurted as he skidded into the kitchen and shoved a small trophy into Sirius’ hands, panting like he had run a mile.

Sirius squinted down at the little figurine; in all honesty, he had forgotten he even had it. “Where did you find this?”

“In the nightstand. Is it true?”

“Uh, yeah, it is.” He set it on the counter with their other random items. “Thanks for finding it, bud.”

Jules glowed under his approval and Remus bit his lip to stifle laughter. “Re, can we have chocolate pancakes?”

“We don’t have any chocolate chips, sorry,” Remus said as he mixed the batter. Liar. Sirius shot him a look, and he stuck out his tongue playfully behind Jules’ back. “We’ve got some fun news, though.”

“What?”

“There’s no practice today and you get to decide what we do.”

Jules’ jaw dropped. “Really?”

“Mhmm.”

“Awesome! Mom and Dad never want to see the cool stuff because they’re busy with museums and games and friends but there are so many places I wanna go,” Jules said in one rushing breath. Sirius blinked in shock, but Remus seemed unfazed as he handed the spatula over. “Thanks!”

“Sure thing.”

“Sirius, what are your favorite places?” Jules turned to him, still licking the spatula like his life depended on it.

Sirius took a moment to think and suppress a smile. “I like the roller rink, and the aquarium, and the park.”

“We already went to the park.”

“We can go again if you want,” he laughed. “You made friends, right?”

“Yeah, but I probably won’t see them again.” Oh, to have a child’s nonchalance when it comes to friends. “The aquarium sounds really neat!”

“It’s pretty cool,” Remus agreed as he ladled out batter into the pan. “They put in a new exhibit recently.”

“Sweet! Can we go now?”

“Don’t you want pancakes?” Sirius asked. “I know I do.”

Jules nodded rapidly. “I do, too. Can I ride on your shoulders?”

“Now?”

“At the aquarium.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“How tall are you?”

Sirius paused, then gave him a conspiratorial look. “Eleven feet tall.”

Remus burst out laughing and nearly burned himself on the pan; Jules rolled his eyes. “Come on. I’m ten, that doesn’t work on me anymore.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Sirius took a sip of coffee. “I’m 191 centimeters tall.”

“Huh?”

“Almost two meters.”

Jules looked over to Remus, who shook his head with a smile. “He’s six foot three, Jules, and he’s messing with you by being fancy and Canadian.”

“How tall are you?” Jules asked, folding his knees under himself to reach the butter with his fork as Remus passed him a plate of pancakes.

Remus sighed. “Five foot eleven and a half.”

“Ha! Short.”

“Shut up, you’re still an Oompa Loompa.”

“I’m more than a foot taller than Oompa Loopmas,” Jules said haughtily, shoveling pancake into his mouth. “I looked it up the last time you called me that.”

“Look at you go! Gold star!”

Sirius cheeks were starting to hurt from holding down his laughter and Remus winked as he passed another plate over. “Thanks, love.”

“Why do couples have nicknames?” Jules asked. “I always thought it was a little weird. Mom and Dad have actual names, but they never really use them. It’s always honey, darling, other sappy stuff.”

Remus shrugged as he sat down with them. “Why do you call me Re? That’s not my full name.”

Jules thought for a second. “Partly because ‘Remus’ sounds like a stuffy old museum name.”

“Oh, and ‘Julian’ doesn’t?” Remus teased. “Usually, people give nicknames because they care about each other. Couples just have an extra level to that.”

“I don’t really like it when people call me by my full name, either,” Sirius added.

Jules frowned. “But people call you by your first name all the time.”

“They do. But my friends usually don’t. There’s Cap, Padfoot, whatever your brother comes up with that day…”

“I call you Sirius.”

“I don’t mind as much when you say it.” Because you’re adorable and I would literally do anything for you. “You can call me whatever you want.”

Jules seemed satisfied by that answer and turned back to his pancakes; Sirius caught Remus quickly looking away when he glanced back up and smiled, giving him a quick nudge with his foot. Baby, Remus mouthed with a slight smirk. Sirius rolled his eyes.

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

The aquarium was busy, but it was a weekend, after all. They only had to wait in line for ten minutes; during that time, Jules made three new friends and every single one of the parents thought he was their son. Even the ticket salesman offered them a family discount that Remus politely declined.

But…it wasn’t a bad thought. Sirius let it ruminate in the back of his mind as he helped Jules onto his shoulders and Remus grabbed a map from the kiosk for when they inevitably got turned around. Definitely not this year, or the next, but someday Sirius did want to say ‘yes’ to the parents and kids discount, though he couldn’t place his finger on why.

And then they reached the whale exhibit. A huge humpback skeleton hung from the ceiling in a smooth curve, its mouth open to reveal perfectly preserved baleen. Jules reached up and trailed his fingers through the space below its massive ribcage—he was too short to touch it still, but the pure awe on his face took Sirius’ breath away more than any deep-sea creature could.

“Baby, can you get a picture of us by the glass?” Remus asked. Ahead of them, a huge tank stretched into a tunnel that lead to the tropical exhibit; Sirius nodded and bent to let Jules down.

“Race you there!” he called, running across the well-worn blue carpet at full tilt. Remus followed him with a laugh and caught him just before they reached the glass, swinging him off his feet by the armpits and turning to face Sirius.

His throat tightened a bit as he took his phone out for the picture. They beamed at him with almost-identical smiles, right down to the dimples. That. That right there, he thought. That’s what I want. “Got it.”

“Awesome, your turn.” Remus put Jules down and began walking over, but an older man motioned to Sirius just before he put his phone away.

“Excuse me, would you like me to get a picture of all three of you?” he asked. A little girl—his granddaughter, perhaps—watched them shyly from behind his legs.

“Oh. Yes, thank you.” Sirius handed him his cell phone and went over to the glass, wrapping one arm around Remus’ waist and draping the other over Jules’ shoulder. They smiled, backlit with blues and greens and aquamarine.

“Alright, I took a few.” The man gave Sirius’ phone back and patted him on the arm as the little girl tugged his sleeve. “You have a beautiful family. Have a good day!”

Sirius didn’t fully snap out of his daze until they were in the tropical tunnel, where fish in colors he could never dream of darted back and forth and fascinated Jules. The aquarium used to be his favorite place in Gryffindor; now, it was probably his favorite place in the world.

Remus led them through a series of corridors, pausing every now and then when Jules scampered toward the next tank, though he seemed to have something on his mind. When Sirius shot him a questioning look, he kissed his cheek and held his hand instead of answering. They wandered past the sting rays, the turtles, and the sharks, until Sirius recognized the multicolored lights from the next room over and stopped in his tracks. “No.”

Remus grinned. “Yeah.”

Jules looked between them in clear confusion. “What?”

“I gotta show you something, c’mere.” Sirius crouched down and helped him back onto his shoulders, then ducked into the adjacent exhibit. Immediately, he heard Jules gasp as jellyfish surrounded them.

“Woah.”

“Isn’t it cool?” His smile was staring to hurt his cheeks. “Here, this in my favorite part.”

Sirius walked to the twelve-foot arch near the middle of the room and stood beneath it, basking in the warmth of the bright lights below as jellyfish of a billion sizes floated overhead. He sighed and leaned his head back slightly to get a better look.

Jules stretched his arms up, trying to touch the glass. “Wow,” he breathed.

When Sirius looked back down, he saw Remus lowering his phone with a small smile. “Had to get a good one,” he said as he stepped under the arch with them and leaned into Sirius’ side. Jules reached down and flipped his baseball cap backwards. “Thanks, buddy.”

“I’ve been waiting to do that for ages.”

“Good to know,” Remus laughed. “Ready to move on?”

“Just a second,” Sirius said, pulling Remus’ arm around his waist. “Just a bit longer. We’ve got nowhere to be but here.”

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

They did, in fact, have somewhere to be, though Sirius didn’t remember that until 3:30 pm. He also remembered that they were supposed to bring dessert that night and unless Remus wanted to out himself as a liar by busting out the chocolate chips in the cupboard, they needed a plan B.

The grocery store was blessedly empty when he arrived, which meant he could use self-checkout for the two containers of cookies he bought—thank god. As much fun as the aquarium was, there were so many people, and they were everywhere.

I need a nap, he thought as he walked back out to the car and watched his breath steam in the December air. And, like, half an hour by myself to listen to music.

The first thing he noticed was that the house was quiet. Hattie didn’t bark when he got out of the car, or when he unlocked the front door, or called out a hesitant “hello?” while he took his shoes off. Nothing seemed amiss, other than the fact that Jules had been bouncing off the walls when he left.

The living room held the answers to all his questions. Hattie was passed out on the couch, splayed with her belly to the ceiling. Jules and Remus were asleep on the carpet with The Fellowship of the Ring between them; clearly, they had been mid-chapter when they dozed off. Sirius set the cookies on the counter and carefully slid the book out of Remus’ hands, setting it on the coffee table before pulling the thick knitted blanket off the couch.

Hattie grumbled at him and cracked an eye open. “Shhh,” he said softly, kissing her forehead before laying the blanket over the other two. They looked so alike—their hair was nearly the same shade, and Jules’ jaw was only slightly narrower than Remus’. Sirius bet that in ten years, it would be hard to tell them apart in photos.

He crept upstairs and set a timer for 4:30. James had recommended a new band ten minutes before midnight, and Sirius figured he should at least give it a shot if it was so important. He grabbed his headphones, pressed play, and let out a deep breath as he sank back into the pillows.

Half an hour went by too fast, and before he knew it the alarm was ringing instead of the steady bass of the new song. He squinted at the clock, praying it would be wrong, and sighed when he saw that technology had won out once again.

Remus and Jules were still asleep on the floor, though they had cuddled closer at some point and the blanket nearly covered Jules entirely. Sirius crouched down next to Remus and brushed his hair off his forehead before gently shaking his shoulder. “Re. Sweetheart, it’s time to get up.”

“No,” Remus murmured.

“Come on, mon loup, dinner’s in an hour.”

“ ‘m tired. C’mere.”

“I would love to, but we promised Dumo we’d be there.”

“Sirius?” Jules blinked up at him sleepily.

“Hey, buddy.”

“We hafta get up?”

“Don’t listen to him,” Remus said without opening his eyes.

“Love you, too,” Sirius laughed quietly. “I got cookies.”

“Cookies?” Jules sat up fully at that and rubbed his eyes; Remus groaned and rolled onto his back.

“Technically, they’re for after dinner, but an exception can be made.”

Remus stared at him for a moment, then sighed and held his hands up as Jules hurried into the kitchen. “Alright, fine.”

Sirius pulled him to his feet and kissed his forehead. “We’ve got about forty-five minutes before we need to head out, okay?”

“So we could’ve napped for thirty more.”

“You could, but then you’d both be cranky.” Sirius leaned back to look into the kitchen. “Just one, Jules! Save some for Katie and the others!”

There was a beat of silence, then a heavy sigh. “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius’ waist and leaned his forehead against his chest, nuzzling into his sweatshirt. “You’re so soft. And warm.”

“It’s a gift.”

“Perfect place to take a nap.”

“Oh, no you don’t.” Sirius carefully detached Remus’ grip and he exhaled slowly.

“Thank you for picking up cookies, baby. Was there anything else we needed to bring?”

“Just ourselves.” He placed another kiss to his cheek and Remus stretched his arms over his head.

“Oof. Okay. I’ll go get a different shirt on and wrangle the kid if you want to find a plate to pretend the cookies are ours.”

“You read my mind,” Sirius said, earning himself a proper kiss before Remus turned and headed into the kitchen.

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

They pulled into Dumo’s driveway at 5:40, which wasn’t bad, all things considered. Jules and Katie disappeared in a hurricane of excited rambling as soon as the door opened and Dumo burst out laughing the second he saw them. “Welcome to parenthood,” he said, pulling them each in for a hug. “How are you liking your free trial?”

“I’ve never been more exhausted in my life.” Remus shook his head as he took his coat off. “But I love it, for some reason.”

“That sums it up.” Celeste stood on her tiptoes to kiss each of Sirius’ cheeks. “Did you bring dessert?” He wordlessly held the plate out and she raised an eyebrow. “You remembered at…4 pm.”

“3:30.”

“You’re getting better, mon fils. Marc, Adele, come set the table!” Upstairs, two different sets of footsteps tumbled over each other as they came running down the stairs; both crashed into Sirius for hugs, just like they had when he first moved in.

“Bonjour,” he laughed, squeezing them tight and planting kisses to the tops of their heads. “I hope Regulus hasn’t been driving you too crazy.”

“I think he’s still asleep,” Adele said as she stepped back. Celeste shooed them both toward the dining room as Sirius raised his eyebrows.

“Un moment, s’il vous plait.” Dumo and Remus wandered off to supervise the kids while Sirius headed for the basement door. Regulus was nearly twenty years old—it wasn’t like he needed those blankets at six in the evening, anyway, and Sirius was only too happy to give him a rousing wake-up call. It was his right as an older brother. 

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Behind Closed Doors

Keanu Reeves x OFC (Emma Mathers) (A/n- yes the title was inspired by Taylor Swift's Illicit Affairs)

Masterlist Behind Closed Doors Masterlist

Warnings- Angst

Clandestine Meeting

“I miss you.”

Emma looked up from the text, taken aback. Her doe eyes were wide and the words which might have previously served to put a small smile on her face simply had her pulling half of her lower lip between her teeth. Stiffening her stance, her mind went rigid and though the keypad was opened and awaiting her reply, Emma didn’t quite know what she should say. So, instead, she glanced up, trying to keep her cool as she looked across the room, meeting his gaze from where he sat at the breakfast bar, phone in hand and morning paper discarded near his half finished bowl of cereal.

Keanu’s whiskey orbs stared back at her, practically willing her to start typing a response, to hopefully admit that she felt the same. It had been almost a week since Miranda’s return, and since then, Emma had gone back to avoiding Keanu like the plague. Even being in the same room with him was too much, though, considering that over seeing the twins’ breakfast was part of her job, mornings were proving to be hardest, and by all means the only time they actually spent together. “Everything okay Em?” Using his free hand, Keanu shifted his spoon around in his ceramic bowl, acting so nonchalant that it hurt to watch. Whoever said he wasn’t a good actor had to have been a good liar.

“Yeah,” sucking in a sharp breath, she nodded stiffly, giving the text, which he’d seen her read, one final glance before locking the phone and setting it down on the granite counter. Without further ado, she carried on, getting orange juice for Matt and then cleaning up a spill Poppy had made while trying to pour more milk into her sugary, colorful cereal. “Let me help you with that,” she mumbled sweetly, hurrying over to collect the roll of paper towels and subsequently tearing off a couple blocks to sap up the fallen milk.

Still on the counter, her phone chirped again, and when she was finally finished, Emma read yet another text from Keanu, that time through the notifications, “Can I see you tonight?”

Already exasperated, Emma rolled her eyes, clenching her jaw as she hastily snatched up the cell. She hated that he was just sitting there, acting like he wasn’t engaged, trying to reel her back in despite the consequences. She hated that she actually wanted to see him anyway, even more. But what Emma hated the most was knowing that no matter what, she was already Keanu’s closeted secret. “You’re seeing me right now,” she angrily tapped the little blue send button, tossing the phone back to the cool surface, only for him to respond almost instantaneously.

“You know what I mean……” Was his reply, and when Emma took the chance at sneaking a glance at him, Emma could see that Keanu’s eyes had softened, silently pleading with her to give in. In that moment, she could slowly start to feel her resolve wavering; everything she’d worked so had to build up over the past five days or so diminished by just one look. Suddenly, she felt strange chill run through her, not as a consequence of the environment, it was actually quite warm that morning. It was actually from the memory that arose upon reminiscing on the last time she’d been alone with Keanu. That day when Miranda had come back, the way he’d touched her while they laid in bed, how his smell, as predicted, had stained her sheets and finally, how he’d come into her room that night, caressing her cheek and kissing her forehead as if he cared. Emma knew that she shouldn’t have been falling for it; a relationship with Keanu was fruitless, he couldn’t offer her anything but private pleasures and then insurmountable hurt. Still, she wanted it, she wanted him.

Clutching the phone tightly, Emma quickly tried to blink away burning tears, staring at the words on the bright screen. “I’m sorry,” another one came in, followed up with, “Please, I promise we can talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Emma’s fingers worked quickly, and it hurt her to type those words while knowing that there was so much she wanted to say.

Again, before she could set it down, Keanu sent, “Don’t say that. I don’t want to end things this way. Just let me fix this.”

“How?” Emma was about to hit send again, when, in a flurry of floral silk, Miranda sauntered into the room, immediately going to wrap her arms around Keanu’s broad shoulders. He stiffened visibly, hurriedly dropping his phone face down, and Emma was left to silently watch the scene unfold, taking note of the way Miranda met her eyes briefly before laying a lingering kiss to his cheek.

“Good morning darling,” she sung near his ear, unable to bear anymore of it, Emma swallowed her hurt and get back to tidying the kitchen and tending to the children. Though, that didn’t quite stop her from listening, “I can’t believe you left me in bed, all alone.”

Chuckling softly, Keanu took a minute before coming up with a response, “You know I like to get an early start. Did you sleep well?”

“Just fine,” Miranda hummed, sashaying over to the refrigerator and scanning its contents until she spotted the overly expensive, extremely exotic, organic creamer that she usually took with her coffee. “Emily,” she turned to Emma, who by then, had long grown tired of trying to correct her, “Why don’t you get my mug and pour me some coffee?"

Miranda, as Emma had come to learn, had the oddest sense of humor and seemed to get off on ‘accidently’ treating her like a maid. And sometimes, like her very own lady in waiting. “Sure,” Emma managed through gritted teeth, all but snatching the handcrafted mug off a shelf in the cabinet and then half filling it with scalding black liquid. “Anything else?” The ordinarily polite quip was actually meant as a petty jab, though Miranda didn’t seem to get that.

“There is actually,” stirring in some of the creamer, not even looking Emma’s way, “Do you think could whip me up an egg white omelet?”

That time, before Emma could speak, Keanu was interjecting, “Mandy,” he tried to sound light and teasing, the edge of annoyance kept at bay, “You know that Em isn’t a maid. Besides, the tutors are coming soon and she has to get the kids ready.”

“Well I’m sure you can do that Keke, I have to finish prepping for my meeting with the wedding planner and I can’t do that on an empty stomach,” pouting dramatically, Miranda summoned up her best puppy eyes for Keanu, “Please darling? For the sake of our wedding?”

“I…..” Keanu stuttered, and Emma hoped with everything in her that he wouldn’t feed her to the lion, but of course, she couldn’t be so lucky, “Why not?” Defeated, Emma’s sigh was soft, and before she knew it, Keanu was rounding up Matt and Poppy and flashing her sympathetic look before herding them towards the hallway after announcing that it was bath time.

She waited until Keanu was gone, and from the minute Keanu was out of earshot, Miranda began the inescapable torture. She cared very little for those who she proudly referred to as help, though Miranda did like hearing herself talk enough to ramble on to anything with ears. “I don’t know if Keanu’s mentioned it,” she carried on, popping a grape from the bowl in the fridge into her mouth, “But we’ve decided on a winter wedding in New York. We’re doing it at the Weylin on New Year’s Eve.”

“That’s……” Emma’s voice was soft and it took everything in her to not break down at the thought of Keanu marrying someone else. Worst yet, it was so close, just over a month and a half away. “That’s nice.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Emma was in the process of gathering the egg whites, expertly separating them from the yolks like her mother had taught her so long ago. “It’s going to be a grand affair,” she explained exuberantly, “And I’ve got a designer from Dior working on a custom dress. I’m already in talks with a couple magazines, we’re going to cover the entire thing.”

Furrowing her brows, Emma slowed down as she moved on to chopping the seasonings. A publicized wedding? That didn’t sound much like Keanu at all; he was notoriously private and hated the press getting in on his life. It was why he’d avoided social media and had pitched out thousands for Matt and Poppy to be homeschooled. “Are you sure Keanu will like that?” Emma’s tentative probe was soft and unsteady and she knew very well that it wasn’t her place to ask.

“Well why wouldn’t he?” Miranda sank into a seat at the kitchen table, nearest to the window, where the warm light was filtering in and washing to room with a heat contrasted perfectly by the low setting of the air conditioner, “The publicity will be great for him too. God knows he needs it sometimes, if he didn’t work so much, there wouldn’t be anything for anyone to write about.”

“I think that’s the point,” foolishly, Emma countered, “I mean, he does hate having his life all over the media, he likes privacy. Right?”

“Oh God,” she burst out laughing, rolling her eyes, “You’re a naïve little thing aren’t you, Emily? Every celebrity plays that little game. But in our world, no matter what you do, everyone is gonna know everything about you, and it sells. And as long as it sells, who gives a fuck about privacy?”

Fumbling for words, Emma slid the now finished omelet onto a pristine white plate, “I’m sure its not possible to know everything.” The conversation was starting to make her uncomfortable, and Emma desperately wanted an out.

“Of course it is,” Miranda cackled loudly, “This is Hollywood dear, there are eyes everywhere.” Emma had just set the plate and cutlery down in front of Miranda, and was already, leaving the kitchen hoping to get back to cleaning up later that morning when the older woman added, just as she was at the mouth of the long corridor, “Just remember that Emily, every secret, every nose job, every hidden pregnancy, every affair…..it always gets out, sooner or later.”

She paused for a minute at the mere mention of the word ‘affair,’ though, Emma didn’t want to have some kind of teary episode right there in front of Keanu’s wretched fiancée, picking up a quick pace not long after. She had to get to her room before the heat had completely risen to her face and the tears had inevitably started falling, she couldn’t be caught like that without reasonable explanation. Emma was almost there, her door was straight ahead after she’d climbed the stairs, and her head was down as she toyed anxiously with the knot of the robe when someone grabbed her arm, effectively startling her. “Hey,” Keanu side stepped in front of her, looking around to make sure that they were truly alone. “I was hoping to get you alone.”

“Uhh….” Blinking away the shock she’d left the kitchen with, Emma tried to act normal, ignoring the rapid beating of her heart, “I um…..what do you want?”

“To see you, alone. Just the two of us,” before Emma could object, Keanu cut her off, “I know you’ve been avoiding me, and definitely I deserve the cold shoulder. But I have something planned, just for the two of us.”

“Ke-” Torn, Emma half sobbed, knowing that she badly wanted some time alone with him but also knowing that with Miranda back it would be a risk.

“I know,” he sighed, “But I miss you, so much baby,” he leaned in, stealing kiss which she readily reciprocated, “I just want to be with you,” he peered down the stairs, ensuring that Miranda wasn’t nearby, his baritone dropping an octave as Keanu placed a hand on her waist, stepping closer, “I know you’re mad at me, but don’t you miss me too sweetheart?”

“I’m not mad at you, and I do miss you” Emma laid a gentle hand on Keanu’s shoulder, a couple rogue tears slipping past her lashes, “But this is wrong, you know that.”

“I do,” he whispered, bending to press his forehead to hers, “But I can’t help it, you’re all I think about sometimes,” swallowing thickly, Keanu continued, “I’ve put something together and my sister has been asking for the kids for a while now. Miranda is gonna be out with her girlfriends tonight, say you’ll come with me.”

Licking her lips, Emma ignored the voice in her head that urged that it was a bad idea, “Where?”

“Its a surprise,” Keanu smiled faintly, catching her lips in a brief peck, “But I promise you’ll like it. Just dress in jeans, and your leather jacket cause we’re taking the bike. Okay?”

Hesitating, Emma eventually nodded, “Okay,” she sealed with a kiss, reluctantly untangling from him, walking off with a backwards glance, her tormented gaze meeting his hopeful one last time.

“Ke….” Emma emitted soft, breathy, delighted giggles that seemed to get lost the minute it was cast out in the atmosphere. The lights were turned down low and past the clear, glass double doors, a sleek, modern fireplace was lit on the porch that jutted out over the edge of the cliff, overlooking the darkened ocean. The heels of her boots thudded softly on the rich hardwood as Emma stepped further into the primarily glass abode. The high ceilings, supported by thick fiberglass beams, matched the floors when she looked up in awe, and eventually, when she reached the open doors leading to the cool outside, where a salty breeze blew her freed tresses, Emma was almost at a total loss for words, “This is……”

A wide, proud smile split his lips. Keanu was glad she liked it, he’d pulled a lot of strings to get them that place for a few hours. It was far off from the lively city and the thick surrounding foliage should have protected them from being discovered by any prying eyes. For a few precious hours, they could be free. Slowly, he approached Emma where she stood, grasping the cool railing, mouth still agape as she looked forward. Snaking his arms around her waist and pressing his chest against her back, he laid a kiss no the side of her head. It was so perfect, it always was; being with her.

Everything faded when she was in his arms; the chill of the night air, the glow from around the pool and the quiet crackle of the fireplace. When they were alone together, nothing mattered but Emma. Keanu had never felt that way about anyone, not even Diana, the mother of his children, the woman who ran from their family and broke his heart. He’d tried making it work with her for as long as they could, but in the end, she wouldn’t have married him, much less stick around and raise two children. Keanu had almost given up on finding someone, someone who’d love Matt and Poppy the way he did, be the mother they deserved and the woman he’d spent the rest of his life with. Even when he'd met Miranda, there hadn’t been much hope left, but he was willing to make it work. Though, lately, Keanu had taken to wondering if the woman right there in his arms was actually the one he’d been waiting for. She’d taken his breath away with her unmatched beauty and now, with each passing day, he was giving a little more of his heart away to Emma. It wouldn’t be long till she’d own the part he’d reserved for someone special. She was special, “Absolutely stunning."

When Emma turned slightly in his embrace, she found that Keanu was looking right at her, chuckling musically when he bent and nuzzled her cheek and tightening his hug so she couldn't escape his affections. "Are you talking about the view or something else?"

Peppering her cheek with kisses, his rough salt and pepper beard grazing her satiny skin, Keanu hummed, "Maybe someone else….." Finally, Emma spun so they were chest to chest, her arms winding around his neck, tangled her fingers in the ends of his hair, disheveled from wearing his helmet, "You look so beautiful tonight," his eyes softened, gaze clouded over with something uncertain though unwavering, "You're always so beautiful," Keanu leaned down, capturing her lips.

He tasted like tobacco and something uniquely him, the same thing she thought about when falling asleep at night. From the minute they’d first kissed, that night in Paris, tension practically shoving them into each other’s arms, Emma thought that his lips seemed like they were meant to lock with hers; Keanu always knew exactly what she needed.

Tilting her head, Emma let herself melt against him, submitting to the comfort of his warmth and the security of his kiss. Even if everything else was wrong in their lives, even if everyone would inevitably get hurt, at least they had that. Kisses that completed them, even if just for a little while.

A little while.

One day they’d have to go back to living without each other. Inhaling deeply, filling her lungs with the kind of fresh air that was usually absent in the city, Emma pulled away, her hands pressing against Keanu’s chest in unspoken protest, and in an attempt to keep her from walking away, he loosely circled her wrists, “What?” Knitting his brows, he frowned deeply, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” her voice broke unexpectedly, her eyes shining, bright with unshed tears, “Not really, its just…..” The words wouldn't come, at least not the ones that would help Emma elucidate exactly what she wanted Keanu to know. She didn’t want to ruin their one perfect night, but she didn’t want it to be their only perfect night. Emma wanted more, more than she might ever get with him, “You just……you do everything right, you know?” Shaking her head sorrowfully, she sniffled, “Almost everything.”

Casting his head towards their feet, Keanu nodded faintly, his chuckle dry and humorless, “Yeah,” he huffed, “I know what you mean.” Thinking on the matter for a moment, Keanu knew that his heart had been begging him to do the right thing, be the man that they both needed, but he simply couldn’t. Maybe if he didn’t have kids, or were just a few years younger. There were so many ‘maybe’s. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, trying to hug her.

“You always say that,” Emma slunk out from between Keanu and the guard rail, strolling along the balcony, trying to put some space between them so she could think properly, “But nothing changes.”

“I’m trying,” Keanu reasoned.

“Are you?” When Emma turned towards him, some of her hair whipped against her flushed cheeks, “Cause it feels like you’re just saying that to get me to shut up about the real problem.” Scoffing, she swiped at her eyes, “What are we doing Keanu?”

His lips quivered, an explanation absent. There was nothing he could say to fix it, he knew that, but he wanted to, he needed to. Keanu needed her. He knew he’d been playing childish games with Emma, sneaking around and stealing moments. He was too old for it to make sense, and Emma deserved to be more than his shadowed lover. “We’re……” He trailed off, wishing things were easier.

“You know what it feels like?” Folding her arms, Emma ignored the new dryness in her throat, opting not to move when Keanu approached her, racing out to lay a hand on her hip, probably worried that she was about to end things between them.

Licking his lips, Keanu’s gaze flickered to hers and he swore he already knew what she was going to say. He knew because he felt it too, “What?”

Emitting a frustrated sigh, exasperation fueled by the complexity of their lives and the knowledge that things were bound to stay the same unless he changed them. Emma, despite her better senses, raised her hand to cup his cheek, rubbing her thumb along the corner of his lips, as she tilted her head to the side, regarding him with obvious pain in her eyes, “It feels like I’m falling in love with you even though I shouldn’t.”

Keanu’s arm slid around to her lower back, urging Emma closer, pecking her forehead, “I’m falling in love with you too,” he whispered, muffled by her skin.

Relived by his admission, Emma relented to holding Keanu in a tight hug, pressing her ear over his steady heartbeat. They stayed like that for a while, faces turned towards the vast ocean beyond the mountain, the water darkened, only defined by the rippling glow; the distance so undefined that it was easy to liken it to themselves. An unbound beauty that may have remained largely unexplored. “Come on,” Emma eventually pulled away, grabbing Keanu’s hands so they wouldn’t be completely separated, “Let’s not waste the rest of our night,” she mustered up a small smile, one that was returned by Keanu who, like her, still seemed troubled, but was willing to put it past them, just they could make the most of their stolen moments.

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea @nonsensicalobsessions

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x ofc #behind closed doors #nanny au #keanu reeves fanfiction #ff

[purple-stuck]

I recently saw the idea of sub-juggulator John and I was captivated! What would your take on that be?

Egbert's Confections. A small cake shop and restaurant that had popped up out of nowhere. There was no indication it existed until a few nights ago, yet it proved to be inexplicably popular. As far as anyone could tell, Jaunee Egbert had pulled his shop out of the ground and cornered the local market overnight.

As far as the local rebel cell was concerned, the fact that he was a purple blood was no coincidence. This town had been chosen as a base of operations precisely because it was such a lowblooded neighborhood. The sudden appearance of not only a purple blood, but a strangely successful and beloved one, was nothing short of glowing neon danger sign. The threat he posed couldn't stand.

That's how Xannic Erveni found himself standing outside Egbert's Confections with his moirail by his side.

Xannic took a deep steadying breath and looked over at the large olive blood by his side. His own worried expression was mirrored in their face before he steeled his gaze. "So, you remember our story, Norwik?"

The olive nodded and began listing off on their hand. "We're just friendly customers looking to get to know the local confectionecutioner. We're both lowbloods, so we try to keep our heads down, which is why we don't know anything about any rebels. And, of course, don't eat anything. Even if it's at a discount."

Xannic nodded and pushed the doors open. He still had to duck to fit inside. Even if the rusty was the shorter of the two, his refusal to trim his horns meant he often had to duck at doorways. Xannic knew it made him stand out, but it was a source of pride for him. Another foot was another sweep survived. Still, he did try to keep from looking too serious as he glanced around the restaurant.

That's when the pair noticed their first red flag. The customers around them weren't just enjoying their food, they were loving it. At least one third of the noise seemed to come from people belching and guts growling. He saw rustbloods eating from cakes that were taller than themselves and jade bloods stuffing themselves like they hadn't eaten in weeks. Trolls as high as teal were collapsing on the floor, still trying to eat even as they were on the verge of either popping or puking. Norwik leaned into his ear. "This is going to sound weird, but this is to much. Even for my appetite."

"You said it."

Xannic stiffened as a tall shadow fell over the pair. Norwik had to keep themselves from draping over Xannic protectively. The two craned their necks up to come face to face with the owner. Egbert himself.

Even with his reputation, Egbert did not at all carry himself as they expected. He smiled down at them in a way that was both mischievous and friendly, a rare combination indeed. His buck teeth were noticably filed down and his face paint was plain. Even his horns were small, flat, and dull. By purple blood standards, he looked like a scrawny, puny runt. Only towering over them because of his age. If Egbert wasn't skipping Ascension, he was on the verge of it. Even his eyes had begun filling in.

"Well, hi, guys!" Egbert said, giving them a mock courtesy. "You look new here. New customers or just stopping by?"

Xannic almost found himself taken in by the act until his gaze driften over to the moaning, groaning, barely conscious troll in the booth next to him. A clear reminder that they couldn't get comfortable here, regardless of pretences. By the way Norwik gripped his shoulder, he could tell they were thinking the same thing. "We're just passing through. We're new in town." Xannic couldn't keep his gaze from drifting. "We... uh, didn't realize this place was so high class."

Egbert clearly followed his gaze. "Yeah, I know. Ask my lusus, it's his recipe. I didn't realize it was ao addictive until I started selling it. I guess eating cake every night desensitized me." He shrugged apologetically. "Word of advice, call a friend to carry you to your hive the first view visits. I don't want to have to drag you out of here."

Norwik's grip tightened around his shoulder unconsciously. "We're just here to take a look around. We won't be having anything." They said.

Egbert grinned, showing off the rest of his strangely flat, filed down teeth. "Well then, stick around awhile. Take a seat and relax. We're all brothers here."

Xannic knew there was something off about this. He could feel it. He could tell that at least some of Egbert's politeness was genuine. He was far to relaxed, far to wide eyed and happy, to be faking completely. Xannic had met enough blood hungry highbloods to recognize one when he saw them, but, at the same time, Jaunee wasn't being entirely genuine either. His kindness was exaggerated, but it wasn't to the point of being obviously fake. It made him difficult to read. He could be lying maliciously... but he could also just be overcompensating for his status. Xannic had met plenty of both.

Regardless, Xannic took a seat at an empty booth, Norwik still protectively curled around his shoulder. If Xannic was letting his guard down, Norwik kept their guard up, and vice versa. A learned behavior that had saved their skin many times before.

Egbert sat down across from them, casually leaning back in contrast to his high strung guests. "So, why'd you two move here?" He asked. "Personally, I just got sick of my old customers. My old church mates always left such a mess behind and the violet bloods were such sour sports about my pranks. It's not my fault they don't check their seats."

Something about that casual little gesture made Xannic's remaining doubts drift away. Jaunee was a highblood. A purpleblood who towered over the both of them by several inches. A highblood who'd already made himself popular and powerful in this small, paranoid little town. A clown who could kill them without effort and continue running his shop without a care. But, somehow, Xannic felt safe. The strange undercurrent of danger that surrounded most clowns just wasn't there with Jaunee. He didn't seem like a predator waiting to pounce. He didn't act like he was just waiting for the excuse to cut them up. When Xennic saw Jaunee drap himself over the back of the seat, he didn't see the murderous monster he saw in most purple bloods. He just saw a smiling, buck toothed troll.

"We actually lived in a similar town. We were live servants for a violet blood." Xennic felt Norwik freeze at the honest answer, but he wasn't deterred. Xennic trusted Jaunee. Enough to be harmlessly honest with him. "We moved here for... obvious reasons. We just wanted get away from that asshole."

Jaunee laughed. "Yeah. Violets are dicks."

It didn't take long for Norwik to join the conversation after that. If Egbert was able to so thoroughly, so perfectly penetrate Xennic's guard, then he could do the same to Norwik. There was a reason for their system. There was a reason one of them was always on guard. There was a reason they were both so protective. But, as the conversation began in earnest, that reason, whatever it was, was forgotten. They talked blithely for hours about quadrants and meeting moirails. About how Xannic had confessed to Norwik and how Jaunee thought that Strider was totally hitting on him. So pleasant was the atmosphere that even the moans of torturously stuffed trolls couldn't pierce it.

Soon, Egbert was showing the two to the door with a cheerful smile on his face. His buck toothed grin as friendly and as mischievous as always. "Honestly, it was great meeting you two. You'll have to actually order something sometime."

Xennic laughed and pushed the doors open, just about to duck out when Egbert's hand gripped his shoulder. "I'm serious." Jaunee said, a slice of cake in his hand.

"How about I give you a free sample? Something to take back with you."

~

It had been seven nights since Norwik had accepted that slice of cake and the olive blood hadn't left their hive since. The lay on the floor, leaning against the fridge as they held their gurgling, groaning gut. Broken plates and stripped down bones littered the floor of their hive, highlighting just how empty their fridge was as it's doors hung open.

Hungry. They were so, so hungry.

Xannic rushed in carrying another bag of food, throwing it to the side to first check on his moirail. Xannic put his palm to their head, hoping to comfort them, check for a pulse, something, anything. But, Norwik just pushed their hand asidr, desperately pointing to the discarded bag.

"Please...." They rasped out. "I.... I need it. I need.... food."

Xannic pulled out a single slice of grub loaf. "This was all they had le-" He started, before getting cut off as Norwik ripped it from their grasp. The olive blood dug into their meal with big, heavy bites, all but shoveling the loaf down their throat. Xannic swore it disappeared in three seconds.

"I need... more..." Norwik moaned, begged really, as their overstuffed gut roared. "I need... food..."

"There is no more. All the shops are out of stock." Norwik curled up into a fetal position. All Xannic could do was stare in concern and horror. "Gog, what did that cake do to you?"

Hungry. They were so, so hungry.

"We need to get you back to base. Get you looked at. Whatever was in that slice, it's fucking you up, big time. At this rate, you're going to eat yourself to death."

Xannic was still talking, but Norwik couldn't hear them any more. Their stomach was grumbling far to loudly for that. Why were they so hungry? Why wouldn't it end? It hurt. It hurt so much. They were staving.

They needed food.

They needed... meat.

"We're going to get you help, okay buddy?" Xannic rolled them over, letting Norwik rest their hand on his shoulder.

"...Buddy?"

Whatever Xannic was saying, Norwik couldn't hear him. They were to busy feeding. Making the pain end.

Xannic's screams couldn't be heard over the grumbling of Norwik's gut, nor over the crunching of bones between their teeth.

~

Jaunee Egbert cheerfully hummed to himself, pulling out his phone to take another picture as he spotted another pile of bare picked bones.

Yes, he'd say this little excursion had gone really well. He was tasked with taking out the rebel cell that was in the area and that had been accomplished. The town can't have a cell if there is no town after all. If he had any complaints, it was that he was sick of only pranking lowbloods. Even if it was his Messiah given duty.

That's all this was. A prank. A joke. A harmless teasing between friends. The fact that the recipients all died didn't change that. Lowbloods die. That was just a fact of life.

Jaunee pulled out his contacts. He sent Strider the pictures he'd taken. He loved to use them for propaganda. "Look what happens when lowbloods aren't kept in check." That sort of thing. Jaunee was glad his friend found his own little way to support the Messiah's cause.

After seeing the thumbs up emoji from Strider, Jaunee took one last look around at the crumbling corpse of the town. No survivors. Not a building left standing. A masterful prank indeed.

Jaunee took his leave to plot his next prank, likely never thinking of this one again.

#homestuck #bloodswaps #species swap #troll john egbert #purple john egbert #rust blood oc #olive blood oc #tw cannibalism #tw gore #drabble #request #troll dave strider

[winter-turtle]

House Of Wolves - Chapter 1 - Winterturtle - Multifandom [Archive of Our Own]

Peter Parker has been raised towards villainy by his parents for all his life. After a mission gone wrong, he is captured by the Avengers.

Tony Stark is a mechanic. He fixes things and now he's determined to fix this teenager that doesn't know any better.

The problem? Tony is a walking disaster when it comes to emotions. Another problem? He has only two weeks to succeed before Peter is taken away by Shield.

@multiverse-irondad-july

Chapter 1: Tipping The Scales

“Okay, how about this one – Elliot? No? Then… Lucas?”

Peter kept his face perfectly blank, the cool mask not giving anything away. He glanced at his hands shackled to the table, then around the dull grey interrogation room. Everything was grey – this room, his cell, even his clothes!

Why grey? It was just shitty black. He missed his black costume.

“Hmm, what about Thomas? You kinda look like you could be Tom.”

The name reading has been going on for days and it was slowly but steadily eating away at Peter’s nerves. When no one was interrogating him for information – which he would never willingly give away anyway – Barton sat down opposite of him and kept reading from various lists in an attempt to figure out his name. Of course, his name’s been already read several times, but as always, he didn’t react.

“Nathaniel?”

Oh God, if he wasn’t chained to that stupid table, he would’ve hit the man with something long time ago just to shut him up! Where the hell were his parents?

“Remember your training.”

That’s what they’d told him as they retreated and flew away to safety when it was clear there was no chance of winning. So Peter remembered his training – say nothing and stall for time until help arrives.

“We’ll come back for you.”

That was two weeks ago.

He was left to fend for himself against the Avengers. Seriously, Peter knew better than to question his parents’ decisions, but what were they thinking, attacking the Compound like that? Neither of his parents bothered to tell him why they were there in the first place.

“Just do as you’re told.”

It didn’t mean that he went down quietly. In the end, it took two super soldiers, two men in armor and one ex-assassin pressing on his pressure points to stop his trashing and hold him down.

“Kama- what the hell is this name? Kamakanaalohamailkalani?“

Peter couldn’t help himself but raise one eyebrow at that, giving the man his best are-you-stupid? look.

“Yeah, that probably is not it either,” the archer sighed. “But come on, boy, work with me here!”

Ah, yes. That’s what he’s been called ever since he got here. “Boy” or “kid” as Stark liked to call him. But what was he supposed to do? Say – yes, my name is Peter Parker, my parents are Richard and Mary Parker and we’re a family of villains. Would you like their phone number and an address where you can find them? Well, not like they had any permanent residence, but still. For all he knew, his parents could be anywhere.

Anywhere but here, busting him out of this place.

“You know, this would be a lot easier for all of us if you just told us your name.”

Peter kept staring. He was told he had very expressive face, hence why he wore full-face mask, so he took pride in managing to remain impassive for so long.

Barton rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger, sighing. “I guess we’re not getting anywhere today too, huh?”

“This is the first smart thing you’ve said today.”

“Oh, so now you talk.”

Peter merely shrugged in response.

Don’t take him wrong, he did talk… occasionally. He just talked without saying anything important. Just empty words meant to get some form of reaction out of the group of heroes. And once they snapped… well, Peter could take it. He was trained.

The silence dragged on. It was Barton that broke it once again with another tired sigh. “Fine, let’s wrap this up.”

Besides slight rise of the corner of his lips, Peter didn’t show any other sign of satisfaction. They were getting tired, he knew. But on the other hand, the whole thing was wearing him down too. Even if not by much, there was more freedom back “home”. The thing he missed the most were-

Peter’s sense tingled.

The door opened and in walked Iron Man and Captain America. His entourage for today.

“You know the drill,” Stark said.

Peter knew the drill, he was good at following orders, but there was that look again. That stupid look on Stark’s face he couldn’t decipher even if his life depended on it.

He stood up. Three. Two. One. Stark pressed the button on his watch and the shackles fell from Peter’s wrists, granting him short-lived, though not complete relief. Invisible force pulled his arms behind his back, the ever-present bracelets on his wrists that he hated with his very being clicking together.

Yeah, the thing Peter missed the most were his powers. He’s had them since he could remember, so they were basically his second nature, yet these stupid bracelets somehow dampened them enough to reduce him to normal-powered teenager.

His stickiness was completely gone. His strength and physical abilities were rendered to that of any other regular fourteen-year-old. Well, at least his senses remained unchanged.

“Let’s go,” Rogers jerked his head towards the door. Peter moved and the three men got into the formation around him. Barton in front of him, Stark and Rogers behind him.

He didn’t really understand the necessity of three people escorting him to his cell. If he were to guess, he would say that they were trying to show him who’s in power here, which was pretty useless tactic in his opinion. It’s not like he could do anything with most of his strength gone.

Which was mostly his own fault anyway. He’d gotten impatient on his third day here and now he had to deal with consequences.

They just wrapped up another unsuccessful round of interrogation and were leading him to the cell, Rhodes and Wilson on the duty. Peter, confident in his memory of the place, decided to make a break for it.

He’d let them think that the handcuffs they slapped on him were strong enough to contain him. Peter glanced around, took a note of a position of the two men with him, as well as another two people that were in the room at the end of the long hallway.

It was now or never.

Out of his suit, Rhodes was definitely the weaker one because of his legs, which made him easier to deal with. Peter squashed down the feeling of guilt. He knew the man’s condition wasn’t his fault and honestly, it was impressive that he continued doing the hero work, but the young villain had to do what he had to do.

Explore any weakness. Show no mercy.

Exactly how he was taught.

Neither man had time to react as Peter spun to the left and hit Wilson strong enough to make him hit the wall, snapping the cuffs in the process. Rhodes had split second to react. It still wasn’t enough and Peter, though he would never admit it, hit him just enough to make him fall. Wasting no time, he took off running.

“Friday, sound alarm!” Peter heard Rhodes shout and sure enough, the alarm started to blare two seconds later.

He had to be fast.

The stairs leading to the exit came in view. So did another two people, blocking his path. Rogers and Romanov. It was easy to deduct by the body language that neither side would back down.

The fight was on.

Kicks and punches were traded and with the adrenaline coursing through Peter’s veins, he somehow managed to slip past the two. So close now-

“Out of the way, you two!”

Peter heard something click and the next thing he knew, he was curled on the ground at the base of the stairs, eyes squeezed shut and clutching his head in agony. He felt like he was submerged deep in the water and the only sound that reached him clearly was high-pitched ringing.

Someone was grunting and panting. Then he realized it was him.

Peter was vaguely aware of people approaching towards him as well as someone new running into the hallway. Then there were hands around his wrists, pulling them away from his head. Peter could’ve sworn that the next sound that left his mouth was a whimper. He curled into even tighter ball.

He really hoped he wasn’t crying too.

The hands let him go. “His ears are bleeding.” Even this up close, Peter could just barely make out Captain America’s voice.

There was more indistinguishable conversation around him and the last thing Peter remembered before passing out from pain – a blessing in disguise – was the sensation of cold bracelets clicking shut around his wrists.

And he’s worn those since.

Peter walked through the door of his cell. As much as he hated to admit it, all he could actually do now was to sit on his ass and wait for the rescue. Fighting them in his current state and with the stupid but amazing ceiling computer watching his every move would yield no results. The only time he fought them was when they didn’t respect his personal space and put their hands on his shoulders or back when they escorted him.

Thankfully, they’ve learned not to touch him quite quickly.

Peter stood in the middle of the cell, his back facing the trio of Avengers. His hands fell to his sides as the release button was pressed. Peter still didn’t turn around nor said anything. Two pairs of footsteps began to make the retreat. One stayed in place for five more seconds, then the door closed. That always happened only when Stark was with the group.

Interesting.

His eyes, more out of habit that anything else, roamed over the cell. Besides the cot built into the wall, the room consisted of a “bathroom” that was just a toilet, a shower and a sink hidden by a wall, a table with short bench bolted to the ground and a camera in top left corner.

His dinner, served on a paper plate as always, sat on the table, waiting for him. Peter sighed. There were only so many sandwiches one could eat before going crazy and Peter felt like he was reaching that point.

There was nothing for him to use. Perfect place to contain enhanced villain like him.

So, saving the food for later and with nothing better to do, Peter laid down on the cot, stared at the ceiling above him and waited.

For what?

He had no idea.

The kid – God, he was just a kid – looked at him with curiosity sparking behind those big brown eyes as Tony was making himself as comfortable as he could in the uncomfortable chair.

Time to commerce the plan.

As expected, the kid said nothing. And according to the plan, neither did Tony. Instead, he pulled out his Starkpad and directed all of his attention to the screen.

At least that was what it seemed like.

“Let me go to him next,” Tony had said on that morning. At his teammates’ inquiries about the reason, Tony merely shrugged. “We’ll never know until we try.”

Tony half-heartedly scrolled through various documents and the kid looked around the room every so often before returning his gaze to Tony. It felt like the teen was studying him.

The time he’s spent in the interrogation room hit fifteen-minute mark when Tony noticed the kid slightly shift in his seat. Twenty minutes and the kid shifted again. This was new development. Sure, when Tony’s watched older footage, the kid shifted every so often, but not in such a short span of time.

Twenty-five minutes and the kid released long, soft exhale through his nose. Tony was slowly getting where he wanted. Still, he kept scrolling.

Thirty minutes passed and this time the exhale was a bit louder. The shift was bigger too. Tony glanced up at the kid from underneath his lashes, then he returned his gaze to the device.

Throughout another thirty minutes, the kid grew more and more agitated, shifting in his seat almost every minute. He played with his fingers, soundlessly bounced his right leg, his jaw began to move as if he wanted to speak.

Which he will. Eventually.

“Aren’t you gonna say something?”

Bingo.

One hour and fifteen minutes. Huh. Not great, not terrible. “Why should I? Do you feel talkative? I’ve heard you didn’t say much in the past three weeks,” he said without looking up.

The kid pressed his mouth into thin line, clenched his jaw and scowled.

Baby steps but hey! It was progress.

“This is annoying,” the kid muttered.

“How so?” He knew very well why. Contrary to popular belief, he knew exactly what he was doing. Well… this time, at least.

“Why are you here?”

The pauses between speaking shortened. Tony shrugged. The kid scoffed.

“I can imagine someone like you surely has something more important to do than to sit here with me and waste time.”

“And you are correct,” Tony replied. He looked up, smiling, “but hanging out with you in this lovely room gives me perfect excuse to not do any actual work. So, thanks, you’re a lifesaver.”

The kid’s frown grew.

“Oh my God, just get on with it!” the kid shouted, the movement of his shoulders and the clang of the chains indicating that he wanted to throw his arms up in frustration.

Tony ignored him, which fueled the kid’s frustration more. Good. Frustration led to anger, and angry person is more likely to spill something without thinking.

“Why don’t you just get Black Widow down here if you’re not going to ask anything? You clearly have no idea what to do. She will know, she was an assassin after all. Still doesn’t mean her methods will work though.”

Now this got Tony’s attention. “What do you mean?” he asked as he set the Starkpad down on the table.

And there was the kid, scoffing again. He sure did that a lot. It was… actually kinda nice to see that there was a normal teenage attitude underneath that villain layer. “Come on, do you think I don’t know how this works? You’ll keep trying to make me talk, nicely first, but you’ll get tired of it eventually,” the kid leaned forward, his voice lowering with the next words. “And that’s when you go for different approach to get what you want.”

Tony’s brain screeched to halt. There was no time to school his expression back into neutral one fast enough; the kid already noticed, pleased smile spreading across his face. Like he just got it confirmed that he was right.

“What?” Tony managed to somehow say out loud, the task of forcing out the single word around the lump in his throat nearly impossible.

The kid rolled his eyes and leaned back into the chair. “Don’t play dumb.”

“No, seriously, I think I just misheard you.” This time, it was Tony’s turn to lean forward as he tapped his ear. “Because that sounded like an implication that we’re about to torture you for information.”

“And you won’t?” the kid asked, obviously not believing him.

“No! Geez, we’re heroes. We don’t do shit like that!”

“Everyone gets tired of the nice act over time. It’s practically human nature. You might as well get on with it,” he said matter-of-factly, waving his hand as much as the chain would allow. “It won’t work anyway. I’m trained.”

The way the kid seemed to treat it like some everyday annoyance made Tony sick to his stomach. Just what kind of environment did he grew up in? Tony could imagine only one way how one could be taught how to resist physical torture.

“Okay, hold on. Let me get this straight – you’re saying that you’re trained to resist torture.”

“Yes.”

“I assume your parents trained you?”

The boy in front of him smirked. Nobody should look that proud about something like that. “Kid… that’s called abuse,” Tony said carefully.

“Jesus Christ, Tones, what the hell did you hit him with?”

“I- just a sonic blast. I had no idea he would react like this. It was supposed to daze him, not make him bleed.”

Now it all made sense. The kid was clearly in incredible pain from the sonic blast, and yet he barely made a sound. No screaming in agony, just choked grunting and panting.

Tony’s had his fair share of torture. First in Afghanistan, then when he returned and his arc reactor was ripped from his chest and then several times he’s been captured since the beginning of his hero career. That didn’t mean he was used to it. And this kid had it done to him by his own parents.

The thought of Obadiah, someone he trusted, torturing him directly while saying it was for his own good was enough to cause his anxiety rise.

Dread began to seep into his body with a sudden yet simple realization; Tony’s been hurt so much, been through so much, it was a wonder he didn’t turn to villainy. He had the perfect set up. It would have been so simple to choose to do harm with his tech instead of good.

For a moment, he saw himself sitting in the kid’s place.

The two of them were so similar, yet so different.

“Abuse?” The kid snorted. “Yeah, right. Me. Abused.”

Tony sighed. “Kid, I don’t know what kind of life you’ve been living, but hurting their own children is not something normal parents do. At least the loving ones.”

That statement set off an unforeseen reaction. The kid puffed out his chest, anger dusting his cheeks with red. “They care about me,” he hissed, “and they’ll come for me any day now.”

“Same as they came for you in the past three weeks?” Tony snapped without meaning to.

The kid didn’t have an answer to that. Instead, he glared down at the table. The sight sent a painful pang into Tony’s heart.

“I believe it’s been enough for today,” he said, the softness in his voice surprising him. “Come on.”

Surprises kept on coming because the kid went without any resistance. Tony half hoped that since he didn’t call anybody to help escort the young villain, but there was none. The kid kept his head down, unreadable expression on his face all the way until they got to the cell. Then he just stood in the middle of the room without doing anything.

Tony turned to leave.

“Peter.”

The word – spoken so silently Tony would have thought he had imagined it – made him stop just before he could fully close the door. “Come again?”

“Peter,” the kid said louder, still not facing him.

“Peter…” Tony repeated, drawling the word in clear way that he was waiting for more. For a moment, he expected the kid to remain silent, that he already said enough, but then-

“Parker.”

Tony smiled softly at the kid’s back. “Nice to meet you, Peter Parker.” This time the kid, Peter, didn’t reply. Tony took it as a cue to leave. “See you later, kid,” he said and closed the door behind him with a soft click.

Tony, sprawled across the couch with his hands behind his head, grinned at his shocked teammates. “Yep,” he said, popping the p and doing his best to shove the other horrific revelation to the back of his mind. That can of worms could be opened later. “You heard that correctly. I got the kid’s name.”

“Well?” Sam gestured with his hand for him to spill already.

“His name is Peter.”

“What?!” Clint called out.

Natasha sighed. “Clint—”

“No, don’t take me wrong, but really? Peter?” the archer threw up his arms. “I read that name in five different lists. Five!Nameberry was my best friend for the past three weeks. I already started with lists of names from different countries. So far I went through German names, all Scandinavian names and I was about to move to Slavic—” Clint suddenly cut himself off, sat down and buried his face in his hands. “How did you managed to get a name out of him in only one session?”

The question came out more like a whine.

Tony shrugged. “Maybe I just know how to talk to him better.” And maybe he said nothing at all, but nobody had to know that. “But hey, if it makes you feel any better, I think you already cracked him. Like that technique where CIA plays the same song over and over again and then you start skipping the parts, kicking the brain into overdrive.”

“All right, but did you get his last name too?” Steve asked.

“Oh yeah!” Tony said, snapping his fingers. “Parker.”

“I read that one too.”

“Oh, hush.”

Rhodey nodded to himself. “So, Peter Parker, huh?” he hummed to himself.

Bucky stiffened.

Sam’s brow furrowed. “What’s up?”

Bucky remained silent, staring at the wall with wide eyes, but seeing right through it.

Steve leaned closer, gently nudging his friend. “Buck?” he asked softly. “You know something, don’t you?”

“He was supposed to be dead,” Bucky replied as if he was in dream-like state. “All three of them were all supposed to be dead.”

“Okay, Barnes, that’s freaky,” Tony said. “You clearly know him.”

Bucky nodded. He swallowed thickly, then again when the lump in his throat refused to go away.

“Take it easy. Deep breaths,” Steve coaxed.

It took a minute, but eventually the man pulled himself together with one last inhale, his features set in determination. “About ten years ago, Hydra was working on one project. They were trying to recreate supersoldier serum, but with countless failures before, they decided to try something different.”

The room was completely silent, everyone listening to the story in interest.

“Cross-species genetics.”

“What species?” Steve asked.

Bucky looked Steve in the eye. “Spiders.”

“That would explain the powers,” Natasha muttered under her breath.

“Anyway,” Barnes continued, “Parkers, Richard and Mary, they showed up at the base one day to help with the research. But they didn’t come alone.”

The atmosphere in the room thickened.

“They had this little kid with them. A little boy with brown eyes and brown curly hair. He couldn’t be older than three.”

Even if it was expected, it didn’t make the revelation any easier. They all saw how Barnes started to behave when his time as the Winter Soldier came to haunt him.

Clint‘s face twisted into horrified grimace. Sam looked on the floor with somber look. Natasha, though her face betrayed nothing, slightly shifted on her feet. Steve’s chest rose with soundless inhale, his eyes closing.

Tony’s jaw set, anger burning in his chest. Another horror the kid went through.

Bucky let out pained chuckle, shaking his head in almost manic way. “I guess they wanted to start young since the previous test subjects, adults, all failed. They succeeded. And then… Parkers just disappeared a few days later, along with Hydra’s biggest success since me. They sent me after them.”

“I remember all of them.”

Those words spoken in Siberia echoed in Tony’s mind. In the end, the whole situation got resolved with words before anyone could get seriously hurt, but the bunker was completely trashed. To say that Tony had been angry would be an understatement. He’d been downright livid. It’d been a long couple of days, and with Ross breathing down his neck, that damn airport fight, Rhodey… it was a miracle he’d stopped himself before killing either Barnes or Rogers.

The relationship between him and Barnes was still strained though. The same went for his relationship with Steve. Luckily, both of them knew to give Tony space and not to push him.

“No survivors. That were the orders.” Bucky let out humorless laugh. “I tracked them down to this airport and… I brought the plane down. The wreckage wasn’t a pretty sight. Literal chunks of that plane were never found, same with the bodies. Hydra found traces of human blood, their blood, where the wing used to be, so they were satisfied.”

“They didn’t want Peter back alive? As much as I hate to say it, he was what they wanted,” Steve said.

“I agree with Spangles,” Tony nodded. “Seems pretty counterproductive.” Jeez, there was already a lot to unpack, but Tony would rather throw the whole suitcase away at this point.

“Hydra thought that since they were successful with Peter, the process could be easily recreated. Little did they know that the kid’s parents destroyed every single file that had anything to do with the experiment.”

“I can imagine they were pretty pissed.”

Bucky smiled at the memory. “They were furious. Several search parties were sent out in an attempt to find Peter’s body. Obviously, the search proved to be fruitless.”

“The question is,” Rhodey said, “what do we do now?”

Tony was expecting more heavy silence. He didn’t expect Steve to speak.

“Fury called and asked about our progress. He said he will take Peter into Shield’s custody. I think it will be for the best.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Tony stood up abruptly, “you want to send him away?”

“Tony,” Steve sighed like he was expecting the protest. “He’s a villain.”

“He’s a child!”

“He’s also product of Hydra,” Steve countered.

Clint frowned. “Steve, he’s—"

“Stark—” Sam joined in as well and all of a sudden the whole room was buzzing with words, everyone talking over everyone.

“Do you know what he said to me during our session?” Tony raised his voice and gestured to the vague direction of the kid’s cell. The room fell silent. “He downright admitted to being trained to withstand torture. You can make a pretty good fucking guess on who trainedhim. I told him that it was not okay, but he saw nothing wrong with it!”

Tony chest rose and fell with each heavy breath. “So yeah, he might be a villain and a product of Hydra, but he is also a kid who doesn’t know any better!”

Steve looked at him with genuine pity. “Tony, I still think Fury—”

“Two weeks,” Tony rushed out. “Give me two weeks to try and show the kid how normal is supposed to look like. If he doesn’t show any redeeming quality, then… then Fury can come and take him.”

Tony knew two weeks weren’t nearly enough to make someone have a change of heart, but he’ll be damned if he didn’t try. He was a mechanic. He fixed things. And he will try to fix this kid that probably knew nothing but pain his whole life. There was no space for mess-ups. Not this time.

And… he might be a mess when it came to emotion, but maybe that’s exactly what the situation called for.

“I say let’s give him a chance.”

Despite how softly the words were spoken, they felt almost deafening in the quiet room. Tony was surprised by his unlikely ally, but assumed it made sense.

“Buck?” Steve asked carefully.

“I was a product of Hydra too and I was there way longer that Peter. You gave me a chance. I say he deserves the same,” Bucky said, determined.

“I second this,” Clint stood up. “No kid deserves to live like that.”

“If Barnes and I could change, then so can he,” Natasha said.

“They’re right,” Sam said and soon everyone was on Tony’s side.

Steve’s eyes roamed over the group, each person determined to spark the change in Peter. To help him.

“Fine,” Steve relented. “Two weeks.”

“Thank you,” Tony said gratefully.

“So, do you have anything specific in mind? When do we start?” Rhodey asked.

Tony smiled. “Right now.”

#marvel fanfiction #peter parker #tony stark #villain peter #villain peter parker #irondad #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #villainous july 2021 #the avengers #protective tony stark #tony stark has a heart #peter parker needs a hug #tw past abuse

[lauwrite1225]

Somebody to die for.

Finan x OC; The Old Guard inspired Alternative Universe

Summary : Victoria's life is rather simple until she has a car accident from which she ends up miraculously unscathed. A series of weird events animates her daily life, everything seemingly bringing her to a strange man. Until this very man knocks at her door.

Spotify Playlist • Masterlist

A/N : Happy Finan Friday!! As you can see on the moodboard, we are learning more about someone ;)

Warnings : mention of death as always and probably torture? I prefer to warn lmao

Chapter 11 : Welcome to the panic room

Victoria stares silently at the plate of vegetables resting in front of her. She isn’t hungry, even the sight of food disgusts her. She pushes it away and stands up from the chair. Warned by the sound, Sophie turns away from the dishes she is washing.

“Victoria.” She sighs worriedly. “You need to eat something. Letting you starve won’t make him come back.”

Vicky rolls her eyes while walking out of the kitchen to join Osferth outside. Since first lights the monk has been searching for any clues that could tell them who the men from last night are and consequently where they are keeping Finan. Victoria tried to help but the lack of results quickly angered her. However, she can’t stay still, feeling like her blood would boil if she did. She’s first been upset with Osferth after he has told them he tried to prevent the men from coming inside, which only resulted in him being killed. Maybe if he hadn’t, he could have prevented Finan from being taken away. But when she saw how guilty Osferth was already looking, she tried to ease her rage. Instead it turned against herself, for being the whole reason they have been in trouble. Of course, she had no ideas as to why they needed her specifically, but maybe if she had made herself known they would have gotten answers. She would have undoubtedly been taken away but Finan would be safe by now, him who has nothing to do with that. 

That’s another question that troubles her: why taking him when it’s her they were searching? She’s sure they want her for her immortality, they could have found out about Finan’s during a fight. Her heart squeezes as tight as her fists at the idea of what he could be enduring while they are still, unable to save him. If only she could still dream of him, it would have given her a way to find him.

Exhausted by all her emotions and after a sleepless night, Victoria falls asleep even before sunset. She's not surprised when the first thing she sees is Sihtric's face. Though, this time he's wearing a modern outfit, a dark leather jacket above a white t-shirt. He looks anxious, his different coloured eyes looking around constantly. There seems to be a lot of agitation around him so Vicky spins around to see and a weird feeling takes her, she knows this place. He is in a clearing, full of armed men starting to encircle a small stoned house illuminated by the light of vehicles. She knows this place. A man is standing in the middle, grey hair and a clean shaved face of what she can see, talking to whoever is in the house. Then the door of the house opens and two men come out, raising their hands in sign of peace. They talk for a moment with the grey haired man before with a simple move of his hand soldiers start to walk toward the front door. One of the men tries to prevent them from entering and Vicky jumps at the sound of a shot. She heard this sound. The other man, bearded, catches him as a red stain starts to spread in the middle of his chest. He stays by his side, holding his hand tightly while the men enter the house. They spend a while inside before coming back, the first one shaking his head. The grey haired man seems upset and barks to kill the other still next to his dying if not yet dead friend.

That's when Sihtric finally moves, walking out of the shadow and Vicky can feel his rise of confidence and anger as he barks back to wait. The man who looked awkwardly relieved to be executed stares at Sihtric with wide eyes, a clear surprise and disbelief playing in his pupils. She knows this man. The Dane ignores him and walks toward who Vicky supposes is the chief.

“He could help us to find her.” He says and the older man raises an eyebrow at him. 

“How are you so sure?” He asks, narrowing his eyes, wary.

Sihtric glances back at the man who's now shaking his head, trying to silently dissuade him, but he doesn't care. “I know, that is all.” He answers, almost whispering. 

Even if the older man seems unsatisfied by Sihtric's answer, he agrees and orders a few soldiers to take the bearded man. He wrestles when they grab his arms, trying to kick them as he shouts Sihtric's name and he is taken away under the Dane's confident eyes.

Vicky wakes up suddenly, gasping for breath as she realizes what she has just seen. Sihtric was here, with the men searching for her and he was the one ordering for Finan to be taken. She can hardly believe it but it gives her some logical answers on how they keep succeeding to find her, they are using Sihtric's dreams. 

She gets out of her bed and notices the light in the kitchen. She finds Osferth in it, drinking a beer while the darkness of the night outside is still far from fading. The monk looks up at her, frowning at her heavy breath. 

“Are you alright?” He asks her, starting to stand up but Vicky sits on a chair in front before he has the chance to.

“Sihtric… Sihtric was here.” She tells him, meeting his light blue eyes who glaze over in confusion in confusion. 

“What do you mean?”

Victoria rubs her face, trying to think of a correct and clear sentence before resting her hands flat on the table. “In my dream, Sihtric was standing in the clearing with the men encircling the house.”

Osferth's eyebrows furrow once again. “I did not see him. Are you sure?”

“I am.” She assures him. “I saw you die, Finan was holding your hand. Then, when they stopped checking the house, a man ordered Finan to be killed as well but Sihtric prevented them and took him away.”

The monk sighs desperately and buries his face between his hands. He stays silent for a long time before joining his fingers to press his lips on his thumbs. “Why did he take Finan and not me then?”

Vicky opens her mouth, trying to remember what Sihtric said to the leader but she can't remember. “I don't know.” She answers, looking down. 

“Do you think he finds you because of the dreams?” Osferth demands carefully and Vicky nods. “Then he is going to find you again.”

She clenches her jaw, her fingers drumming nervously on the table. Her friend keeps staring at her intently while she thinks. As long as she isn’t rid of her dreams with Sihtric, he'll keep telling whoever the men wanting her are where she is. Her and him are linked until they finally meet. Suddenly, her fingers freeze and she stares back at Osferth.

“I have to meet him.”

“Sihtric?”

“Yes.” She confirms. “He can find me, but I also can find him. I can determine where Finan is and once we are there, I have to meet Sihtric to be freed of our dreams. He won't be able to find me anymore, and we will just have to hide somewhere else.”

Osferth visibly hesitates, his head leaning on a side then the other. “If he took Finan, it might be because he knows you'll go save him, because he is important to you.” Vicky can't help but blush at Osferth's words, biting her lips. “And he'll know we are coming. It's jumping into the lion's den.”

Vicky can only agree with Osferth, it's another risky plan, more likely to turn badly, but she doesn't see any other way out. “I know. But Sihtric and I can't escape each other, if we don't try, we'll be playing cat and mouse for God knows how long.”

After a few minutes of reflection, the monk agrees to her plan but it doesn’t relieve Vicky much, the hardest is to come. When Sophie wakes up, they tell her of their plan, and she doesn’t even have to speak for them to understand that she isn’t pleased with this plan.

“That’s complete madness!” She exclaims to the two immortals sitting on the couch. “There’s no way it goes perfectly well.”

Vicky rubs the back of her neck. “We know, but we have to try, for Finan and to get rid of them for good.” 

Sophie sighs, her hands resting on her hips. “Très bien.” She pushes her glasses which had slid too low on her nose and looks at them again. “But I’m coming with you.”

“What?! No!” Osferth replies, standing up.

She shakes her finger before pressing it on his chest. “That’s not a choice. I’m coming that’s all.”

Osferth spends the following days trying to convince her to not come with them, that it is too dangerous, but Sophie reveals herself to be extremely stubborn, and during dinner he finally gives up, which gives an amused smile to Vicky, despite her very low mood this time. 

Vicky spends most of her time concentrating on her dreams, drawing any faces or places she sees, and writing any word or discussion she remembers down. She succeeds to determine that Sihtric is somewhere in Germany and still in the regular presence of the grey haired man. In her drawing, he looks about seventy, with strong features but an awkward warm gaze. There’s something in the man that weirdly initiates confidence.

One night, she stands in a dark and cold cell with only an old bed furnishing it. Sihtric waits near the door while two men carry and then drop a man on the floor. Vicky gasps when she recognizes Finan, His face pale and dark marks coloring below his eyes, his clothes are soaked making him shiver in them. Sihtric looks at him pitifully and when the door closes, he makes a step forward and Finan who is now sitting crawls back until he is against the wall. The Dane keeps walking until he crouches to be at his eye level. 

“You know how to make it stop.” Sihtric says, in a cold tone. 

Finan huffs, trying to ease the shattering of his teeth. “Why are ya doin’ that?”

“I told you.”

“No, everythin’.” The Irishman leans forward. “Ya’re betrayin’ us.” He growls with the most anger his state allows him.

Sihtric frowns and his own anger takes control. “You were the first to betray us.” He snaps back. “You left us! Not even caring what we could feel and what could happen if you were gone. Do you know what happened to Uhtred? Did Osferth tell you?!” 

Finan swallows hard, his gaze dropping down. He shakes his head and looks back to him. “How can ya allow this? Ya know perfectly that immortality isn’t a gift.”

“It’s not about immortality, it’s about saving people.” Finan frowns at him but he says nothing more. 

When she wakes up, she can't forget Finan's sight, how he looked sick and sleep deprived. It gives her a myriad of feelings, she feels guilty for being the reason he is there, she feels angry at Sihtric for hurting him and she feels desperate for not being able to do anything at the moment to keep Finan from suffering. But it also gives her determination, one she has never felt before. She has never had so much determination in doing something, of course she is biased, Finan means a lot to her and she can't abandon him. She feels a strength growing in her, a confidence in front of a situation far from certain, something that would usually have made her give up.

She talks about Finan and Sihtric’s discussion to Osferth while Sophie is gone to make research with all she has already written down. The poor monk has been in a low mood for the past days as well. 

“Sihtric was the most disappointed by Finan's choice.” Osferth explains after Vicky mentioned he said Finan betrayed them. “Uhtred was angry, obviously, but he forgot. Not Sihtric. Sihtric was loyal to the bone to Uhtred and he didn't understand how Finan could leave us all behind for a woman.”

Vicky nods and leans forward. “Tell me. How did they all meet? Uhtred, Sihtric and Finan.”

Osferth shifts uncomfortably on his chair, his eyes locked on his glass before finally glancing up. “He didn't tell you?”

Vicky shakes her head. “In fact, he lied to me. He didn't tell me of your existence until I started to dream of you. And when he was about to finally tell me the truth, we were attacked. I know only the big lines.”

Understanding, Osferth rests his hands flat on the table and starts to think of how to tell the story. “Sihtric was a slave and the bastard son of a Dane Jarl. He was meant to kill Uhtred with a group of other Danes but they failed and Uhtred kept him prisoner. Then Sihtric asked him to be his man which he accepted.”

Vicky stares at him intently, not having imagined the story to be so complex and tragic. “I didn't know he was a slave.” Her friend looks aside, his lips curling as she guesses he hesitates to say something. “Osferth?” She frowns. 

“I suppose Finan didn't tell you he was one as well.”

Her eyes widen in half-horror and half-surprised, not expecting to learn another dark part of Finan's past. “He did not.” 

Osferth opens his mouth to say something but the sound of the front door opening stops him. They both turn their heads as Sophie walks in the kitchen with a proud smile, holding a folder in one of her hands.

“I found something!” She declares, sitting at the table with them. 

Osferth and Victoria share a glance while she displays papers on the table. 

“So I started by the castle you described.” She explains grabbing a sheet of notes. 

A few days ago, Vicky saw Sihtric walking in a castle courtyard full of men during an evening. With him was the same old man, talking to people probably rich enough to live in a castle similar to this one. The Dane was quite annoyed to stand in the crowd and most of the time remained silent. Victoria drew some of the facades of the building and is now glad to see it has been useful as Sophie grabbed pictures of a castle to compare with her work.

“So I searched when and where such a reunion happened in Germany, and regarding your drawings, I supposed it was the one in Heidelberg Castle, about four months ago.” 

“It looks like it.” Osferth comments after Vicky hands him the drawing and pictures. 

“So I did even more research to find who were the participants and I came up with a few names. But the one interesting us is Friedrich Müller.” Sophie's tone loses its enthusiasm to become more serious as she takes out a real factsheet about him, with a picture of the man in the corner. “Do you recognize him?”

Vicky gasps and nods, the man looking exactly like in her dreams. He is as she guessed in his seventies and retired from the firm he has been running, apparently leaving it to his daughter a few years ago. He is a part of the richest men of Germany and respected as an excellent businessman. 

“Alright, but all of this is pretty… Clean? It has nothing to do with me, nor Sihtric and isn't going to tell us where they are keeping Finan.” Vicky says, impatient to know more of her friend's reasoning. 

“I'm getting there.” She reassures her. “Müller came to the reunion as president of the Quelle des Lebens Stiftung.”

“Fountain of life foundation?” Osferth translates hesitantly. 

“Yes, his own father was the president of it during the Cold War and left it to his son during the 80s. It's a foundation meant to do research to fight cancer and rare diseases.” She explains pointing at a description of the foundation's activities. “It still looks pretty clean like this. But after further research, Müller's father is suspected to have funded scientists during the third Reich working on the creation of a superior man.”

Vicky shivers, her fingers stiffening as she holds one of the papers, not expecting the story to take such a dark turn. “So… You think the foundation is just a cover to their real activities?”

“Sort of. But what is sure, is that whatever it hides, immortality is the key of their research.” Sophie concludes, a heavy silence growing in the room right after. 

Even with answers, Victoria feels still lost as new questions arise in her mind. She tries to push them away and concentrate on what they know. Finan is somewhere in Germany, according to Sophie somewhere near Munich as the head of the foundation is located there. Their destination is settled and they spend the afternoon preparing for leaving for Germany.

A/N : Sihtric part of the bad guys, did you expect that ? 👀

Tag :​ @for-bebbanburg @osferth @maggiescarborough ​ @finansarms ​ @dumbledoreisnotmyhubby @solinarimoon @wardl0w

#finan the last kingdom #the last kingdom #finan #finan the agile #tlk #fanfiction #finanxoc #the old guard #somebody to die for

[fangirlauthor]

Ah Im not sure if you request in ask, so sorry if no- but it would be awesome if you could do a korrasami one shot or really anything about korra getting injured, brushing it off as small (it isnt) and asami fretting over it

hi!! thanks for the request, i hope i did it justice :)))

Title: Only Slightly Stabbed

Wordcount: 1433

Tw: blood, fighting, stabbing, pain (dizziness, nausea)

There was a solid stone wall behind her. A shadow in front. She scrambled to find something - anything - to fight back with. Her hand closed over the hilt of a small dagger, and she forced herself to focus through the pain as she pulled it free and threw it.

Gasping, she slid down the wall until she was sitting down, her knees pulled close to her chest as she tried to keep her breathing even. She looked down at herself and gritted her teeth through a wave of nausea and dizziness. Soaking through her clothes, coating her skin, and puddling on the street, was blood. Distantly she recognized it as hers, recognized that there was far, far too much of it, but she couldn’t move without her vision turning white, so she didn’t.

Between her own shallow breaths, she heard a voice calling her name. She knew that voice. She was positive she knew that voice, but who… the world faded to black before she could find out.

She awoke hours - or was it days? She couldn’t tell - later, lying flat on her back on something soft and fluffy. Her head was propped up on something, and she would have thought it was pillows if not for the slow, steady movement of whatever it was. She twisted to see what it was but stopped as fire shot through her veins. She hissed and let herself return to the position she had been laying in before. She closed her eyes, breathing and trying to ignore the pain.

“You idiot. You’re not supposed to move.” Korra’s eyes flew open and she smirked. She couldn’t believe she had ever forgotten Asami’s voice.

“Yeah, well. I had to figure out what I’m laying on.”

Asami shook her head, black hair swaying gently. “Naga didn’t want to leave you alone. She’s been by you this whole time.”

Korra grinned. “Of course. And which of my other favorite beings have been to see me?”

A smirk. “Just me. Too much excitement and you would have woken up before you were ready.”

“Aw. You’re being all protective.”

“As soon as you can walk again I’m going to stop being protective and start asking you what head trauma you experienced that erased all your brain cells.” Asami smiled, but Korra’s eyes had gone distant, and her voice was sharp when she spoke next.

“What do you mean, ‘as soon as you can walk again’?”

Asami blinked slowly, registering the panic in Korra’s eyes. “Your legs are fine, Korra. Your only injury is the stab wound. You’re alright. You’re going to be alright.”

Asami stepped across the room and sat next to Korra, gently stroking her hair from her face until the panic faded. For a few minutes, silence. Then, “You should have left the knife in. It would have staunched the bleeding.”

Korra’s relaxed countenance shifted. In an instant she was on guard, her scowl rivaling the anger and fear of a cornered animal. “If I had left the knife in, the attacker - whoever they were - would have killed me. I would be dead.”

For the second time in five minutes, Asami was looking at Korra like she was trying not to cry. “You could have used your bending. You weren’t powerless.”

Korra stared at Asami. “My… right. Yes, you’re right. I should have done that.” A pause. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what? Almost dying? I’m the one who’s sorry you almost died. I don’t know what I would do without you. I just… why didn’t you bend?”

Korra looked away, unable to meet Asami’s intense stare. “I forgot I could. I forgot I’d gotten better, I forgot I had healed. I thought that if I had no weapons in my hand I was going to die because I couldn’t bend and had no other options.” She wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry. I thought I was better.”

Asami reached over and wiped the tears from Korra’s face. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. Healing doesn’t happen in a straight line. Don’t expect it to.”

“Okay.” She sniffed. “Okay. I’m okay.”

“You don’t have to be.” Asami grinned. “Besides, you’ll be sitting in here until you’ve got clearance to leave the house. Clearance from me, of course. Until then, you’re staying right here.”

“But-”

“Nope. I’m getting you some tea. Naga, make sure she doesn’t try to get up.”

“Hey! I can manage perfectly fine on my own. It’s not even that big of a deal. I was only lightly stabbed.”

“Too bad. You’ve got bed rest for at least three days. More if you complain.”

“Mother hen.”

“Is that complaining I hear? Think carefully before you speak.”

Korra scoffed. “Fine. I’ll be good.”

Asami smiled. “Wonderful.”

The last thing Korra remembered before falling asleep was Asami quietly reading and handing her the mug of tea whenever she requested. The two of them had managed to work out a system that hurt Korra the least while still making sure she didn’t choke. Basically, she was drinking hot tea out of a straw. When she awoke, the sun was filtering in through the thin curtains, casting stark shadows behind the sofa and table.

“Are you okay? You were out for a long time, but I didn’t want to wake you.” Asami’s forehead was creased with worry, and she was carrying a few rolls of paper and had a pencil tucked behind her ear.

“I’m alright. How long did I sleep for?”

“Over fourteen hours.”

Korra blinked. That was… longer than she had been expecting. If she kept this up, she’d have even less ground to stand on to maintain her “it’s only a minor wound” attitude. “Did you get some work done while I was out, at least?”

Asami shook her head. “I tried, though. I even sat in the office for a full ten minutes before I came to check on you. After that, I sat at the coffee table. You have got to stop scaring me like this.”

“It’s part of the job description. I can’t change that. ”

Asami huffed a laugh. “Sure, but I think you could put more of an effort toward not dying.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“At your job, or at trying not to die?”

Korra paused. “Both, I suppose.”

When Asami’s back was turned, she gritted her teeth and pushed herself onto her elbows. Even her determination to be quiet couldn’t silence the hiss of pain that escaped her, and Asami immediately turned back around. “What exactly are you doing?”

Korra froze. “Nothing.”

“Sure looks like nothing. Lay back down. You’re not supposed to move, you could reopen the wound.”

Korra grumbled but did as she was told. “How long do I have to stay here, again? I’m only slightly injured”

“Longer every time you ask. And stop brushing it off - you can barely move. Here, eat this.”

Korra took the plate, trying to angle her neck to see what was on it. “Could I at least sit up? I can’t lay like this for days.”

Asami considered it, then sighed. “Fine. But go slow, and wait for me to set this down so I can help you.” Asami took the plate from Korra and walked through the door to the kitchen. Korra made sure she was occupied, then took a deep breath and forced herself into a sitting position, scooting back enough to brace herself against the wall.

After another few seconds, Asami walked back in. “Okay, I’m ready to…“ A sigh. “I should have expected that, honestly.”

Korra grinned. “You should have. I told you it wasn’t that bad.”

“Korra... I need you to be more careful, okay? You can’t keep getting hurt like this. One day someone won’t be there to catch you, or staunch the bleeding, or get you to a hospital or clinic. One of these days you will end up dead if you aren’t careful. And if you die, everything that is good in this world dies with you. Please, Korra, be safe.”

Korra looked away for a moment, then turned back and faced Asami. “From now on, I’ll be more careful.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Asami smirked. “Great. That means you sit here until you’re fully recovered.”

Korra groaned. “No, please, let me out. You can’t trap me here,” she said, but she was smiling. Asami’s smirk grew into a grin, and she sat next to Korra, the cushions making a dull whoosh as they adjusted to the added weight. Korra grabbed Asami’s hand, and they sat there, sun streaming through the windows, smiling softly into the sun.

#korra #asami #avatar korra #asami sato #korrasami #korrasami fic #mine #tlok #lok #the legend of korra #legend of korra #request #i wish there was a way to tag anons #its been so long since you sent the ask im worried you won't see it

[kinglazrus]

Not Your Danny – Ch 6. Obsessions

Previous | First | Next | FFN | AO3

Word count: 3109

Eventually, Dani has to go back to Fenton Works. She stays with Sam and Tucker at the mall for a few hours, enjoying their company; but, as the afternoon wanes and evening draws near, their hangout time comes to an end.

"I can't believe my parents are making me stick to a curfew. I'm eighteen. I didn't have a curfew a month ago," Sam says when she notices the time.

"A month ago, they didn't know you part-time as a ghost hunter. I can't believe they made your curfew eight," Tucker says.

They manage to hit a couple more stores before Sam has to go, and even swing by the food court again to grab some food-to-go. By the time Dani goes home, she has four bags of new clothes plus a box of pizza all to herself.

"Here." Tucker leans across the passenger seat and holds something out to Dani.

When she takes it, shuffling the shopping bags around her arms so she has a free hand, she notices that it's a cellphone. Basic, with a touch screen.

"It's pre-paid. I have a bunch, so don't worry about it. Mine and Sam's numbers are on there, so you can text us if you want to hang out again."

Dani clutches the phone to her chest. "Thank you."

"No problem."

Dani waits until Tucker has pulled away before turning toward the house. It's hard to tell with the curtains drawn, and the harsh glow of the Fenton Works sign splashed across the building, but it looks as if the lights are off inside. A quick scan of the street shows that Jazz's car is gone, although she could have parked around back, or by the garage instead. Dani heads up to the front door and tries the knob. It doesn't budge.

Rather than trying the doorbell or knocking, she goes intangible and walks right through the door. Inside, the lights are off, just as she suspected. She doesn’t bother turning them on. With her enhanced vision, she can see perfectly well in the dark, albeit in dark, muted shades.

In the kitchen, she finds a note from Jazz: Mom and Dad out testing weapons. I will be at Spike's. There's food in the fridge. Dani doesn't know who Spike is.

When she peeks in the fridge, she finds a tin-foiled plate of meatloaf waiting for her, as promised. She doesn't bother with it, though, taking her pizza up to Danny's room instead. The house without the Fentons there feels... pretty much the same. Without the ambient noise of Jazz's typing or Jack's distant footsteps, the house is far quieter than Dani has ever heard it. Even at night, Maddie's chainsaw snores—which surprises Dani more than it annoys her—keep the house from falling completely silent.

Now, there's nothing but Dani's soft breathing.

It's quiet, and yet, the house feels no less empty than it always does.

She deposits the shopping bags at the foot of Danny's bed and takes her pizza to his desk. Since arriving, she has cleared away enough clutter that the box can fit, although it's a tight squeeze. One side of the box rests on top of the keyboard. She looks between the greasy cardboard and the keys, wondering if it might wreck them. There shouldn't be enough grease that it will leak through, but she decides not to risk it.

Dani lifts the box and shoves the keyboard aside. It smacks into the base of the Challenger's display case, sending it toppling over the edge of the desk.

"No!" Dani throws herself out of the chair, reaching for the model. Her fingers skim the glass but miss. Blind panic fills her and something in her chest bursts. A bright glow launches from her palms and surrounds the case.

The model jerks to a stop a mere inch from the floor.

Dani's heart hammers in her chest. The horrible realization of what would have happened if she missed drains the blood from her face. Careful not to make any sudden moves, she pushes herself onto her knees, arms still outstretched. A thin thread connects the light surrounding her palm and the display case. It tugs on her, like a sixth finger, each movement sending an unfamiliar ripple up her arm.

Telekinesis is not a rare ability among ghosts. A common power, like intangibility, invisibility, and flight, more than half of all spectral entities have some form of it. But unlike those first powers, telekinesis can rely heavily on a ghost's power level and general skill. Where one ghost may struggle to move a toothpick, another can uproot a whole tree with nothing more than a thought.

Dani, until this moment, could not use it at all.

When she flexes her fingers, the model drifts toward her. The moment she has it in hand, the light disappears, and the model's weight hits her. Heavier than expected, enough that her arms bow under its sudden presence. She holds the model in a tight embrace as she rises to her feet. With her elbow, she pushes the keyboard out of the way to clear space and returns the display case to the desk.

After a moment's consideration, Dani nudges the model closer to the middle of the desk. Even if it makes things tighter, she doesn't want that to happen again

She returns to the chair, but rather than eating her pizza, her focus stays on the model. It looks undamaged inside the case, still fixed to its wooden base. At a glance, it seems sturdy enough that it could hold up to a bit of knocking around. A hard smash to the floor would probably do it in, though. The thought makes her stomach twist.

With most of Danny's things, their importance still eludes her. Now that she has her own clothes, and a phone, it's starting to dawn on her why people like things. It's nice, to speak frankly. Being able to have something, to keep it somewhere and return to it, is a nice feeling. But then there are feelings attached to the items, too.

Jack said this model was Danny's favourite. Dani has no way of knowing if she is right about why it was his favourite. It was only a guess based on what she knew of her cousin, what he thought of his parents. Danny didn't smile a lot when it came to them, at least not as far as Dani saw. Maddie and Jack rarely came up during cousin bonding time unless they came after Dani and Danny while they were hanging out. But, sometimes, Danny would smile so bright at the mention of his parents.

If he had done well on a test and they congratulated him. If they took him to the planetarium. If they went stargazing recently. None of these things happened often, but when they did, and Danny told her about them, his smile would be so bright Dani found it hard to look at.

Thinking about her new clothes, Dani wonders if the smile she can feel on her face is just as bright as Danny's had been.

"I'm sorry I lost the music player you got me," she says to the Challenger. "I didn't realize how important it could have been." She shrugged it off at the time. Even now, what little guilt she feels over it stems from losing something that could have been dear to her rather than something that wasdear.

How many things has she lost that could have been important? She already knows the answer: far too many.

—

Jazz was distracted during the funeral. She tried to hide it, but Jack knew his daughter all too well. As she gave her final goodbyes to Danny, she kept wiping her eyes and looking over the crowd, her gaze searching. Jack looked over his own shoulder a few times, trying to see what Jazz was searching for. He couldn’t find it, obviously.

There weren't many people in the crowd. Immediate family; Sam and Tucker, plus their parents; Valerie came, as well, along with Casper High's vice-principal. Jack had no other family to speak of besides his wife and children—now child. And the only relative still in contact with Maddie, her sister, could not make it in time. Jack understood although it hurt.

Over the past few months, Danny had grown closer with his aunt. Jack wasn't sure when it happened, and it took him a while to catch on. Maddie and Alicia spoke on the phone at least twice a month since Alicia didn't have a cellphone or internet. It was standard practice for Maddie to drag one of the kids into the conversation to say hi. Jazz always went willingly. Danny usually complained.

However, at some point, his complaints stopped. If Danny caught Maddie on the phone, he would eagerly jump into the conversation. He even started shooing out whoever was in the room. Jack blamed it on teenage antics. It wasn't until Jack caught the tail end of one of their conversations that he realized something had changed.

Danny sat at the kitchen table, phone to his ear. When Jack entered, he sat up straighter.

"I'll try and bring it up next time I see her. Not sure when that will be, but her birthday's coming up." Danny paused as the person on the other end replied, then nodded. "Cool. Bye Auntie Alicia, love you."

"Alicia? Don't you think your mother would have liked to say goodbye before you hung up?" Jack asked.

Danny set the phone down on the table. "That'd be weird since Mom didn't call her. Is she even home right now?"

Now that Jack thought about it, no, she wasn't. Maddie went to the store nearly an hour ago to buy cookie fixings. "Good point!" Now that Jack was paying attention, he saw the phone on the table was Danny's cell and not the house phone. "Was she leaving you a message for Maddie?"

"No, I called her."

"Plans for your mom's birthday next month?"

"Nope." Danny stood up and pocketed his phone. "I'm going to Sam's. See you later."

Jack paid more attention after that. There were other phone calls, always the same, where Danny would find somewhere private to talk. Sometimes he clammed up when Jack walked in and quickly ended the conversation. Once, Jack thought he caught Danny crying. It was late. Jack himself had only gotten home a little while ago thanks to a particularly nasty ghost attack that day. For nearly twenty minutes, he and Maddie had chased the ghost boy, trying to catch him while he was down. Phantom was a damn good flyer, though, even when injured.

The first thing Jack did when he got home was check on the kids, and that's how he found Danny curled up beside his bed, his phone cradled against his ear. Every blanket in the room was pulled tight around him.

"I don't know if I can do it anymore," Danny had said. "It keeps getting harder, and today I just–" his voice cracked.

The moment that followed was quiet. Not a single sob escaped Danny, but his shoulders shook. Jack was about to step inside when Alicia's voice, strong and steady, so loud in the silence, came from the phone.

"You're gonna be okay, kiddo."

Jack didn't go inside. Maybe he should have. Danny asked several times when they would be visiting Alicia next after the phone call. Every time he asked was like a punch to the got, but Jack never spoke up. If Danny wanted to come to him, then he could. If he was more comfortable talking to Alicia about this mystery problem, that was fine too.

He'll come to me when he needs to. Jack kept telling himself that until the day Danny died.

—

Jazz hoped she might see Dani in the crowd. A small part of her whispered that maybe she had missed Dani, glanced away right as she appeared. But, considering how few people were in attendance, that seemed unlikely. Beyond that, if a halfa did not want to get seen, they would not be seen.

Which brought Jazz to another guest she expected, although did not welcome: Vlad. Her worrying proved pointless, though, when he never showed up. As the lingering crowd thinned, Danny's friends and loved ones saying their final goodbyes, Jazz searched the heads once more. No red beanie or glowing white hair, and no pompous ponytail.

At the first opportunity, Jazz pulled Sam and Tucker aside. "Have either of you seen Dani?"

"Uh... is this some kind of joke?" Tucker asked. He glanced none too subtly toward the freshly filled grave. Sam at least had more tact and waited for Jazz to elaborate.

"Dani-with-an-i."

"Oh." Tucker shook his head. "No. We've been trying to contact her, but there isn't a great way to reach her. Left some messages with some ghosts, but that doesn't help if she's not in the Ghost Zone right now."

"She isn't." Jazz checked on the whereabouts of her parents. They were nearer the grave, speaking solemnly with Angela and Maurice Foley. Most importantly, they were well out of earshot. "I saw her at Fenton Works last night, but she ran away."

"Damn." Sam lifted the black veil hanging from her hat, revealing red eyes and smudged makeup. "I hope she's okay. Did she say anything before she left?"

Jazz hesitated. Although the whole exchange only lasted a few seconds, it had yet to leave her mind, for reasons she was ashamed to admit. And yet, no matter how guilty she felt about her initial reaction to Dani, she could not forget about it.

"No," she said. "Dani saw me and bolted. She might have thought I was my mom since it was so dark."

"We'll have to keep an eye out for her. I don't if she would stay without Danny here, but it's not like she has anywhere else to go, either," Sam said.

"I will, too. I thought she might show up here, but..."

"Sammykins!" Pamela Manson called from the cemetery gate. She tapped her wrist, although she wore no watch. "There's a crowd forming, dear."

Jazz grimaced at the sight beyond the funeral gates. A small gathering of Danny Phantom fans stood on the sidewalk, some bearing signs, all dressed for mourning. It was the most inappropriate display she had ever seen. None of them had breached the cemetery, but Jazz suspected that was because of the hired security standing at the gate and not the onlooker's own sense of morality.

She dreaded what the crowd might do as soon as she and her family left.

Sam scowled. "I can't believe them. I get if they want to mourn the local hero, but this is such gross behaviour." She looked remarkably like her mother as she hissed those words, her lip curling in disgust as she glared at the onlookers.

Jazz agreed wholeheartedly.

"I'll text you as soon as my mom takes me off house arrest," Sam told Tucker. "Jazz, let us know if you see Dani again. I'll sleep a little easier knowing she's alright."

Jazz nodded and gave her guarantee.

—

Vlad has lost obsessions before. Most well-balanced ghosts have. Any experienced ghost knows to have a few central obsessions and a handful of smaller ones. Latch on to a passing interest hard enough and all it takes is a little dedication to turn that into a full-blown obsession. Then, once it becomes tedious, let it go and move on to something else.

There have been some obsessions that he lost against his will. He once had a bonsai tree, a nice juniper, that he loved dearly. It went up in flames with his Wisconsin mansion the first time Danny destroyed his home. Vlad felt the loss like a bitter sting. At the same time, his determination to capture Danny for himself only grew, overwhelming painful prickle. Every slight against him only fuelled his desire more. Never had he fought so hard for something without immediate success. It made the game that much more fun.

And it was a game. Danny learned fast, but there was so much he didn't know, couldn't do. It was so easy to toy with him, egg him on, guide him to new abilities. The potential within him was limitless. Vlad could have overwhelmed Danny in seconds but there's no fun in that.

Perhaps that's why it was so easy for his other obsessions to slip away without him noticing.

He drifts through the halls of his mansion, familiar yet alien at the same time. On the landing, he drags his hand along the bannister, dust gathering against his fingers. His limb flickers, wispy blue, jumping sporadically in and out of intangibility. He designed the balustrades himself, inspired by the first twisted haunts he discovered within the Ghost Zone.

The wood cracks and splinters as his fingers solidify while passing through.

Before him, the front hall looms. Vast, open, a point of pride in every mansion he has owned. Better to impress the guests with a grand display upon entry. Now he finds it suffocating. All his hours of work, his obsessions wasted. Where simply looking upon his walls once filled him with pride, now they sicken him.

There is nothing for him here.

He went to such desperate lengths. Threats, bribery, manipulation, cloning. Nothing ever worked. Each new failure cut him deeper, made him more desperate, more eager. No. No, that wasn't right. He was subtle, clever, controlling an oblivious pawn in a cruel game. The winner, the mastermind. The cloak, not the dagger. The cat, not the mouse. But still always losing. Surely something he had to work this hard for, harder than anything in his life, had to be worth it.

And then, in an instant, in the span of an ectoblast, his obsession died.

"Maddie." Vlad moans, voice breaking. "Maddie. Maddie. Maddie." His please reach no one who cares. All his attempts to reach out, reforge that connection they once had, have been rebuffed.

"Maddie." Once, not so long ago, the sound of her name alone was enough to light his core ablaze.

But when, when, when, how, somewhere along the way that warmth died.

"Madeline, I need you." Please, please. Don't leave me to this. Don't go.

The cold wind whips against him, not unusual for an October day, but it startles him, nonetheless. He hunches halfway down the drive, the empty halls of his mansion long behind. He could return home, but... no. Home won't help him now.

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#phic phight #phic phight 2021 #notyourdanny #phanfic #phicc #dp fanfiction #danny phantom #dani phantom #danielle phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #trans danny #trans danny fenton #nyd chapter six

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Club Takamagahara (Part 2): Close Call

I was trying to figure out how to deal with the whole “Ship” situation and I decided to not have my MC shipped with anyone so as not to exclude anyone reading.  The MC is only 18 in this rendering and in the novel’s canon she could be even younger. So honestly, following the novels, it gets weird quickly. Best to leave ships at port.

Enjoy!

“UKYO I LOVE YOU!” Someone screams from the corner of the crowded dance floor.

The man removed his white cloak and tied the sleeves about his waist to reveal his bare chest to the crowd. He takes several deep breaths, making his stomach rise and fall. The muscles of his arms were sculpted and well defined as he danced on the stage with his sword among the floating cherry petals.

“Oh my god, I’m going to faint!” The woman says next to you before she promptly plops to the floor and is dragged away by a waiter who seemed to be right behind her. You stare silent and still as she’s swallowed up by the crowd of people that parts only briefly before coming together again like nothing happened.

Everyone’s eyes were on this person so it was easy for you to slip towards the edge of the crowd. Mingfei was dressed just like the waiters and there were dozens of them moving in the dark. There was no way you’d be able to pick him out even if he was standing right next to you.

The audience thundered with applause. The man wasn’t a bodybuilder like some of the other guys but you recognize the sword art as genuine and practiced. Sword arts weren’t part of your repertoire - You specialized in hand to hand and shooting - but you knew skill when you saw it.

You squint… wait is that?

It was! It was Chu Zihang! You knew him to be a shy and quiet person, not someone who could perform on stage in front of thousands of people. That said, you acknowledge you didn’t really know him. He was a performer then? Curious, you tilt your head and get closer to the stage. But it was really hard. People were pressing in with the same intent as you to be as close to the stage as possible.to watch the performance. Eventually you had to stop because the crush of people was too great. Your arms are pinned closed to your chest and you have to watch through a window of outstretched hands with cell phones.

A black-clad and masked waiter pushed a two meter long tablet onto the stage, which was covered with ice, on which a whole fish was laid out. You’d never seen a fish that big. This is something that would be a mouthful even for the whales of Siberia! Chu Zihang waved the sword and divided the fish in strong powerful strokes. One slash! And the dark red back meat was separated from the bone. Two! And the soft white belly meat was separated!

The sword moved in a blur and the sections fell into neat perfectly sliced pieces as perfect as a picture.

You, the MC, applauded politely, but the rest of the women behind you screeched like this was some sort of frenzied and spiritual experience. The noise made your skin crawl. 

Something wet splashed on you smelling of alcohol, drenching your cheongsam. 

“Whoops, sorry!” The woman behind you giggled.

“No… no problem…” You mutter, too quiet to be heard.

The cut fish was placed on small plates that were sent down a glowing river of water suspended from the stage. The river floated the plates down to a bar where women on translucent stools lit in many colors. They delighted in picking the fish off the plates with delicately carved chopsticks made out of coral.

In the crowd, at the same time, money was being held up in the air, as well as fingers and fans. They bid on the price of a particular large piece. As the bidding ended, the winning woman was invited on stage and she held up a large rectangular piece of fish over her head like a champion wrestler holding her belt. Meanwhile, Chu Zihang was still busy carving up the rest of the fish. 

The crowd has thinned slightly and you’re finally able to get close enough. You look at him, trying to catch his eyes but he’s too focused on slice after slice. Finally he finishes the section and slides it onto a tray.

“Zihang!” 

Even though your voice was not that loud, he looks at you wide eyed and shakes his head in a quick jerk. A clear message of “Not now.” And goes back to work.

Just then an excited woman rushes the stage with a bottle of champagne and dumps it down his bare back and shoulders. The crowd roars in delight and Chu Zihang doesn’t move a muscle other than his eyes down to you.

Your eyes are as big as saucers. Champagne is dripping down every muscle like golden rivers through valleys of pale skin. Both hands cover your mouth in clear horror. But then he looks away from you and you relax. Was this part of the show too? 

You back away from the stage and decide maybe you should get out of here. As you’re backing up, you run into what you think is a wall but you turn around and someone in a bright purple suit grabs your shoulders. Your body reacts and elbows him hard in the ribs.

“Oof! Easy there, princess.”

That voice! You look up and immediately rear back, stumbling and staggering over your unwieldy heels and falling to the floor. 

“Looks like someone has had a bit too much.” Caesar says.

A waiter comes by to pick you back up, before whooshing away like some suited fairy.

“Basara King! Please tell me you’ll stay!”

“Only if you vote for me sweetheart.” Caesar fondly leans over and kisses the woman’s hand.

“I’ll vote for you every night! The world won’t be the same without you in my life!”

He is in the purple suit, like the color of a bright purple dinosaur named Barney you remember seeing pictures of, but his hair is permed and draped over one of his eyes… eyes that are painted in purple eyeshadow. He was even wearing lipstick, bright red too. The woman goes to find a waiter. She shouts, “Fifteen tickets for Basara King!”

Once she’s gone, he asks. “Where’s your caretaker sweetie?”

You’re gasping in silent horror. “What did you do to your f-”

“Aaaah! I’ve got it! I’ve got it!” Mingfei grabs your arm and drags you away. “I told you to stay in your room!”

“Someone came in there! Lu Mingfei what happened? Where are we?” You gasp. You turn back but Caesar is already occupied with more women.

He yanks you back to the elevator and mashes the button repeatedly.  “Shh! Shh! Stop! Quiet or you’re going to ruin everything!”

Lu Mingfei looks truly desperate as he pushes you into the elevator and mashes the close door button. He presses his hand firmly against your mouth. “Listen. Swear to me that you won't say a thing about what you just saw in there. Got it?”

You blink at him. He releases your mouth and you tell him, “You’ve got a little… lipstick right…”

Mingfei furiously rubs his cheek - the wrong one - “Look… Look. I know what you’re thinking but just stop thinking! Don’t think! We have to be here. This is the only place we can hide out! We don’t have any other place to go! We lied and said we were illegal immigrants smuggled into Japan to get treatment for you. They don’t care that we don’t speak Japanese so long as we look good and make the clients happy!”

The elevator dings but he holds the “Door closed” button. “But you’re, first of all, not old enough to be allowed in, second of all, you have to stay with us in the men’s area. Also not allowed! And you’re a woman, third not allowed!  But Caesar has a plan to get you to stay but everything has to work out, so please just please…” 

You’ve never seen him shaking this much. “I’m sorry.” You whisper, still against the wall.

“No, it’s just… These women are crazy!” He puts his hands over his eyes and leans his back against the wall of the elevator. He looks seriously like he’s about to weep. 

You pat his shoulder. “There, there.”

“I don’t want to lose my good standing at the college and how will I ever face Nono if…” He lowers his hands. “N… never mind.” He hangs his head.  “I didn’t say anything.”

“It’s okay. You’re stressed out, but I really did have to leave the room.”

He sighed. “It’s my fault. I forgot to put the Do Not Disturb sign on…” he said glumly and allowed the elevator door to open. You hear the roar of the crowd above you and it sounds like a man is on a megaphone hyping them up. Mingfei pauses and continues to lament. “You must be so traumatized by what you saw.”

“How long do we have to stay here?” You ask as he leads you by the hand.

“Right now, it’s a temporary arrangement. We’re intern performers. This is one of the best places in town for this sort of thing so you have to pass muster and win enough popularity. If the people in the crowd love you and want you to stay, they’ll buy tickets with your name on them. You have to have at least 800 tickets and pass an interview with the club owner. Until then… anything we screw up on could get us thrown out and we can’t get thrown out, MC.”

You immediately nod. “How many tickets do we have?”

“Not enough yet. Tonight is the moment of truth.” Lu Mingfei said seriously. He leads you back to the room with the barrels.

“Oh.” You purse your lips. “Right.”

“And even then…”

“Interview.” You said. “Got it. I’ll behave.”

“I gotta go…” Mingfei sighs and leans on the door a bit.

“Can I get something to eat? Sorry…”

Lu Mingfei softens at your earnest expression. “I’ll get you something.”

The sound of popping interrupts and you startle and gasp.

But Mingfei smiles and looks down the hall. “Oh! Firecrackers! That’s good! I think Zih… I mean Ukyou got enough tickets! That also means… every table gets free champagne… damn…” He hangs his head again and blinks away tears. “I’ll bring you some food when I can, okay?” He closes the door and dashes out. Even though you wait for him, he doesn’t come back at all for hours.

You wait, sitting in the closet, your stomach growling loudly. You hadn’t been this hungry in a while but it wasn’t completely alien. The smell of rich foods was wafting down and not being helpful though. The best remedy for hunger was sleep so you shed the boozy cheongsam, shower again and go lay down.

You don’t remember falling asleep but you wake up to voices. Hunger pangs were seriously gnawing at you now and you got up to approach the door The space is full of the fragrant steam from baths mixed with the scent of cigar smoke. They must be bathing, but you’re so hungry. 

“All that’s left then is to interview the owner… Do we have an appointment or something?” Lu Mingfei asks.

“No. It’s up to them when they see us. And they still have to agree to let MC stay here so you need to do better, Mingfei.”

“I know… I just didn’t expect her to wake up today.”

You’d never heard them sound so exhausted before, as if they’d gotten no rest at all since the battle of the streets of Chizuru. Lu Mingfei said that they’d been forced to work here. You don’t know the hours from the looks of things, they wouldn’t be able to ask off because their tenancy depended on performance. But if you hadn’t eaten in three days then you need to eat now, even if it inconveniences them.

You knock gently. “Can I have my food please?”

You’re answered by splashing around, and Mingfei yelping. “MC! Don’t open the door!”

Caesar’s voice. “Will you relax? We’re in the bath. She’s already seen Chu Zihang’s body and she was fine right? Sure, MC… come on in.”

You crack the door open. The three barrels are now occupied with Caesar, Zihang and…only Mingfei’s bubbles appeared to pop on the surface of the water. After a few seconds, Mingfei’s head came up, open mouthed and gasping. “Don’t look! Don’t look! You have to preserve what innocence you have left!”

Caesar pulled his cigar out of his mouth.  He was reclined, covered in hickies and other miscellaneous marks all over his broad muscular chest. The makeup was thankfully gone. “You’re assuming a lot. How do you know she’s innocent?” 

Mingfei was still gasping. “We should assume all young ladies are innocent!”

Caesar nods to the bag on the TV and you hurry to it. Inside is some of the leftover sushi, some rice, and a few pieces of cheese. “Sorry it’s not much but we can’t exactly be caught pilfering food for someone who’s not supposed to be here.”

Chu Zihang was sitting back, eyes on a newspaper.

You grin at him.  “Congratulations, Senpai on your tickets.”

“Ah…” He muttered as the only acknowledgement..

“Little sister, I’m sorry you had to see Senpai like this. You must have been so shocked. This isn’t normal I swear.” Mingfei was still just a floating head in a barrel, determined to keep his body below water.

You stuff your mouth with the sushi. It was fresh and still tasted of the sea. You hum with delight. “This is good!”

“I mean you must feel like… seeing him like that… you… I mean … even the girl’s in the college, they go crazy even when he has his shirt on.” Mingfei peers at you as you’re digging through the bag for the cheese. It’s so fancy it’s wrapped in black cloth and you can smell it through the fabric.

“Don’t eat too quickly.” Chu Zihang murmured.

“MC, can you be a doll and throw some more wood on the fire?” Caesar asks.

You chew the cheese and get a log from the rack and take it to Caesar’s bath. You bend over, open the old furnace carefully and toss it in, quickly shutting the door. Mingfei watches you, quiet. Then you suddenly straighten. “Boo!”

“Ah! Don’t look!” He ducks down, inhales water and starts choking.

Caesar massages his temples.

You giggle at his distress and simultaneously ignore it. “If Senior Brother has never done this before, that makes it three times as impressive.”

“Hey, don't compliment Zihang and not me.” Caesar grumbles.

You rub your chin, “Then, Caesar must work hard to keep up such a muscular chest! I don’t think I’ve seen one like it since the bear hunters passed through the port!”

He bit his cigar and smiled. “Thank you!”

Chu Zihang lowered his paper a moment, glared and then lifted it.

Mingfei moaned. “All of this is so wrong.”

“If it bothers you that much I’ll leave.” You say, grabbing the bag.

“It might help if you answer the question simply, MC. Are you innocent?” Asks Caesar, blows out a puff of smoke.

“Boss, why are you being so direct?!”

“Yes,” you reply, “But I don’t feel that way about any of you. You’re my Senior Brothers.” You pause. “...quite senior in fact. You look nice but we’re not a good fit” You turn to Mingfei with a pointed glare. “And you’ve made it very clear that you’re not attracted to me at all and I’ll let you know that the feeling is mutual.”

“Good it’s settled. Happy now?” Caesar asked, grinning at Mingfei.

Mingfei groaned.

“So what’s the plan?” You ask, tucking into the rice. There was both a spoon and chopsticks. You suspect Chu Zihang had prepared this. Mingfei wouldn’t have thought to include alternate utensils.

“This place is called Takamagahara… as you saw… women come here to spend thousands of yen a night just to support their favorite ‘ikemen’ on the stage.”

“Ikemen?”

“Like an idol… a fantasy guy.” Mingfei grumbled. Still neck deep in the water.

“Both Chu Zihang and I were instant hits. There’s no problem for us. However, there’s no place for a female performer.” Caesar taps the ashes into a golden buddha statue that’s holding a bowl to receive them.  “My goal is to have you stay as a planted guest to help coax more money out of the clients.”

“What? That’s your plan?” Mingfei exclaimed. “She’ll be out there in all those … those guys!”

“That’s called ‘shill bidding’.” Chu Zihang turned the page in the newspaper.

“You saw the auction right? I’m sure that piece of meat could have gone for more. If we had someone who can bid the price up, the club makes more money, and there’s no losing it because she’ll be bidding with the club’s own funds.” Caesar explained.

“She’s still too young to be here?” Mingfei continued to object.

“She’s calm enough. Calmer than you in fact.” Caesar sighed. “For that I’m grateful. None of the men here will touch her. It isn’t that kind of place. She’s safe here. I’m not worried.”

“It’s a good idea, Caesar.” You say. “I’ll do my best. I’m not used to cheering that loud though.”

Caesar’s eyes turn sharkish. “Money speaks louder here. Don’t worry.”

You’ve finished the rice already and put down the bowl. “I know you’re upset, Senpai Lu, but you have no say in this matter. What Caesar says goes.”

“Senpai Lu? When did this happen?” Caesar’s eyebrows raise.

You’re not sure how to answer. “He is, isn't he?”

Caesar regards you for a bit but then shrugs. “Thank you for cooperating. We tried to find a hospital but the Hydra had them all blocked off.” Caesar's expression darkened considerably. “No matter how far we traveled, there was just more and more police. Meanwhile, you were bleeding out! Not only did this place offer to help, but they ordered a private doctor for you. If it wasn’t for them, you’d be dead now.”

A cold silence fell over the group and you could almost feel the breeze from the dream of Black Swan Bay and hear Z’s voice.

You had a very close call.

“Z…” You whisper.

“Hm…?” Caesar asked. He’s staring at you with a little concern. 

“I… I’m tired. I need to lay down.” You hurry back to the closet and shut the door.

#Dragon Raja