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wiredaughter · 7 months

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@tropetember #23: wingfic

☆-☆-☆

Dream to Sleep

supernatural ♡ adam milligan/michael ♡ mature ♡ fixit ♡ wings ♡ 831 words ♡ ao3

The first night they're back on earth, the first night they're separate people in ages, it becomes clear things are going to be different now. For one, Adam sleeps. Michael is pretty sure, anyway. He frets about it, after the human has brushed his teeth just to go back to the couch to continue his reading, reassuring him he doesn't feel tired yet. He lays off it for a while, ruminating on what he knows about humans and circadian rhythms, resting his head on his shoulder. Then, he has an idea so bold he'd probably selfcombust in any other circumstance. It's that feeling of breaking a rule, in part, which makes his mind up. He stands up, heads for the bedroom but stops at the door.

'I think I'm going to lay down a moment.'

'You? Are you feeling alright?'

The angel smirks at that, he's got him. 'Eh, I could use the space to stretch my wings.'

He hears the book thud against the coffee table, the light steps behind him as he comes to kneel on the duvet, discards his shirt. When Adam asked about his wings in the cage he explained they didn't work in hell, and true as that had been, he also felt strangely unsettled about the idea of showing them to a human. But he wants to now, even if the bashfulness hasn't entirely receded. Not turning to look at Adam where he stands in the doorframe, he closes his eyes and spreads two pairs of shimmering silver wings, eliciting a gasp from the human and knocking over a generic ornament from the bureau. He didn't really think about that, but before he has the time to recriminate himself he feels the bed dip behind him, Adam's breath ghosting on the nape of his neck. When he touches him, a firm palm on the small of his back, he sways back into the contact, forgetting his worries as he leans into the human's chest, wings fluttering at the contact with his shirt. He hums, content as Adam wraps his arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

'Michael...' His voice is rough but his hands are gentle, rubbing circles into his hipbones. 'Can I...?'

He's nodding before he can finish the question, a whine escaping from his throat as he's guided forward to lay on his stomach, careful hands tracing up his spine and along his shoulders as the human straddles him. Still not touching his wings. Was that not what he meant? Oh, but that's what he wants. He bites on his lip before forcing the word out. 'Please.'

However mortified he was at that, the mercy of Adam's long fingers caressing his covert feathers is worth it, fingertips pressing lightly as his thumbs stroke his back. He strokes his long primaries, as far as he can reach without getting up, slow and painstakingly tender. It sends shivers through him, but it's not quite what he wants. 'You can... harder.'

Adam hums amused, but plunges his hands into his feathers at once, letting out a satisfied sigh. He bends down to press light kisses to Michael's shoulderblades, and lets out a groan as he unceremoniously buries his face on his right wing, kneading his cheek into the fluffy feathers. This takes the angel by surprise, but not as much as the overjoyed solace that radiates through him at the gesture. 'You like them.'

He regrets saying that as soon as he does because the human is breaking apart in a moment, until his touch returns, turning him on his back. His wings give a beat when his hands return to them, but his attention is captured by his eyes, smiling, pupils blown and bearing into his own. 'Of course I like them.' Adam kisses him so sweetly a shiver goes through his entire body, which only makes his hands work deeper into his wings and slid a leg between his own. 'I love them. And you've been so good with my body, all that time you possessed me- I don't want to...'

Michael is pulling him down before he can finish the sentence. He kisses him openmouthed, almost desperate, only breaking away with a whine when Adam presses his thigh on his groin. The human follows his mouth, pushing his tongue inside, making his knees close tight around his as he arches off the bed aching for more. He slides his arms of his lover's neck to pull at his shirt, only to let out a weak whimper at the moment they have to stop making out so he can get it off. The heat of his bare skin on his is too much, and they fall into a fast, urgent pace when their lips reconnect, chasing their climax.

Michael presses small kisses along Adam's forehead afterwards, as he drifts off wrapped in his wings, and he figures things are really going to be different. He's excited about that.

#r-tropetember #midam #midam fanfiction #wingfic

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ocmerunaway · 2 years

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@tropetember Day 14. Monster/Human romance, R rated.

#r-tropetember #the birch #daisy rose

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nyanggk · 2 years

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NOT MY PFP BEING A JAY EGG SKSHDHSJAGAGAGAHAHAHAA

But awww I can't wait read them!!! I saw the jungwon being about zombie and I was like OU IM READY WATCH ME CRY hahaha

Dude this quiz is 🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️ my teacher says she doesn't want short answers because we need to be descriptive about our answers. Bruhhhhh how can j describe something when the textbook only gives me two sentences 😭😭 I hate school haha

LMFAO NO THERES NOTHING TO CRY ABT IN THAT FIC WHAT COULD I POSSIBLY DO WITH 1K WORDS KSSKDKSKKD its more like a drabble for me ;sniffles:

just make up stuff ezzzzzz also, maybe check the almighty google if it has any other defnition or answers B)))

ALSO WAIT R U ALSO DOING TROPETEMBER??

#genie🧞‍♀️#@: end-hyphen #[besties!] (*≧з≦)#mirais asks⚜

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deannaroxannewrites · 3 years

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Tropetember Day 3 - Hurt/Comfort / Sickfic / Whump

No work today, Captain's orders

Pairing: Steve Rogers x GN!Reader

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: General Audiences

TW: Sickness, tooth rotting fluff

AN: Day 3 of @tropetember. Just a fluffy little sickfic with our favourite soft boi.

Find this story on Ao3 here.

Word Count: 1.2k

Avengers Tower, previously known as Stark Tower, has a number of different uses. The basement holds the R&D department, lower levels house Stark Industries offices, and the middle floors hold the Avengers support and S.H.I.E.L.D liaison teams. Then, at the very top of the tower, there are a number of large penthouse suites allocated to each of the Avengers.

Although you aren't a direct member of the team, you also have an officially assigned room in the guest floors. It's a natural result of you having to stay over far too many times due to your long hours. Mr Stark himself had insisted on it. So it was unsurprising when everyone woke up one Tuesday and realised you had stayed over. What was surprising though, was that it was nearly 10:30am and you didn’t seem to have stirred.

Sleeping in this late was completely out of character for you and, being the responsible and caring friend it is, Steve took upon himself to check on you.

He knocks gently on your door before poking his head into the room. He couldn’t see much though as the blinds were still closed and the suite was in total darkness.

“J.A.R.V.I.S?” Steve called quietly, “Are they awake?”

“Not currently” came the computer's response. “They have been awake on and off throughout the night vomiting. You can currently find them in the bathroom.”

Steve nods, knowing the computer will not be offended at the lack of verbal response, and heads to the bathroom. He’s been in this suite enough times to spend time with you that he doesn’t even need his enhanced vision to find it.

What he finds in the bathroom though, breaks his heart.

There you are, pale and shivering, curled up next to the toilet. You look terrible and, when he gently places his hand on your forehead, he realises you also have a fever.

The sudden contact with your skin disturbs you and you blink your bleary eyes up at him, seemingly not recognising him at first. It takes a few seconds for the haze to clear and for you to quietly whimper his name.

“I know baby” he responds, trying to sound as soothing as possible. ”I know. How are you feeling?”

You shake your head slightly, not able to think clearly enough to narrate your current state.

“Ok, that’s ok” he says, sitting next to you and pulling you into his side. You snuggle into him, absorbing the warmth and comfort he offers.

“J.A.R.V.I.S? Can you notify Tony of what’s going on and tell the team I won’t be training with them today?”

J.A.R.V.I.S replies in the affirmative and Steve turns his attention back to you.

“Do you still feel like you’re going to be sick or just generally not good?”

Steve can practically see your brain buffering as you think through a response. It's a little unnerving given how in command and quick witted you normally are.

“Just gross. Achy. Wanted to go back to bed but too tired.”

He hums gently and slowly manoeuvres the pair of you to standing. He gets you seated on the edge of the bath, propped up against the wall, before grabbing a washcloth and damping it.

The cloth feels heavenly on your skin, wiping away the sweat and general ickyness of being ill. He runs the cloth gently over your face and arms, not going any further than that to try and preserve your modesty. You hum gently in appreciation.

Once Steve is happy that you’re feeling a bit better for being a little cleaner, he scoops you up and carries you to the bedroom. The covers are quickly turned down and the next thing you know, you’re surrounded by the tower's extremely high thread count sheets.

A small noise of protest falls from your lips as Steve moves to stand up from the edge of the bed. A gentle hand running up your arm settles you a little but he can see that you don’t want him to leave.

And so, he surrenders to the inevitable. He strips off his jeans, leaving himself in boxers and a t-shirt and settles himself onto the bed next to you.

You immediately snuggle into him and are out like a light.

--------

Waking up when you've been ill is always disorienting. Your head feels like it's full of cotton wool and you're just generally feeling a bit rough. You take a moment to simply exist in the quiet, cuddling up to the body next to you.

It's about that time that your brain catches up. Who the heck is in your bed?

Slowly and carefully, you peel yourself away from the man's chest and are met by a stunning pair of blue eyes. It brings back some hazy memories of Steve taking care of you and you refusing to let him leave. You feel a wave of gratitude wash over you.

Reassured, you lower yourself back down to settle against him, pressing a soft kiss against the nearest part of him.

"Thank you. For looking after me"

He squeezes you lightly then presses a kiss to your forehead.

"Anything for you, doll."

You smile where you're pressed into his chest. Whatever did you do to deserve this man?

You both lay there for a while, enjoying the comfort of each other's company. It's nice, just laying in the darkness and feeling his solid chest underneath your head as he breathes. It's almost meditative. You've basically been lulled into a trance when J.A.R.V.I.S interrupts.

"Mr Stark was wondering if you were feeling up to watching a movie in the main living space."

You glance at Steve, see his soft smile and answer in the affirmative.

"Mr Stark asked me to advise you that it's a bring your own duvet event, but that snacks and beverages will be provided."

You snicker to yourself at Tony's phrasing while assuring J.A.R.V.I.S you'll be there momentarily. Steve helps you up, gathering the duvet in his other arm as he props you up for the walk.

"You sure you're going to be OK?" He checks in with you. He's such a gentleman.

You nod and together you make your way to the main space.

Tony's set up a projector, using the massive back wall as a screen. Around the space, the many sofas have been adjusted to accommodate the rest of the group who are all getting settled in.

Smiles and quiet well wishes greet you as everyone notices your presence in the doorway. Tony ushers you and Steve onto a sofa in the middle, the table in front of which is already stocked with water and tissues with an emergency bucket (according to the label Clint had added) within arms reach. You're also assured that snacks will be brought to you as required.

Even though you're still sick; with your favourite comfort film on the projector and surrounded by your friends, everything sucks a little less. Plus, being tucked up under a duvet with your own personal super soldier to cuddle isn't exactly a bad place to be.

And you pretend not to notice Nat taking pictures of you and Steve.

#tropetember #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #sickfic #fluff #unbeta'd #tooth rotting fluff #marvel mcu #captain america #captain america x reader

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endof-theline · 3 years

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Day 2- Tropetember: Coffee Shop AU

Day 2 going strong with a coffee shop AU!

On Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32328712

Sometimes Bucky hated working his coffee shop job especially since he's working to save up enough to get a replacement prosthetic arm since his current one kept breaking and it was more expensive to get it fixed in the long run.

Times like now, however, he didn't mind it, the customers were quiet and easy to deal with and most orders were to be taken away so Bucky didn't have to worry about cleaning tables while Steve was on his break. Sure Bucky's arm was hurting like hell and his fingers kept twitching without him wanting them too, but it was peaceful right now.

That is until a short, brunette man stumbled in with manic eyes and his whole body looked like it was vibrating, Bucky determined that the man was either drunk or high on something before he was in front of him.

"Can you make the strongest coffee you can morally give me, don't worry if you think I'll die because I won't, just the strongest coffee you'll give me?" The man asked as he leaned on the counter and Bucky had to worry about his morals surrounding coffee, Bucky just nodded before starting to add shot after shot into the drink while the man watched.

"I gotta ask if you're drunk or on drugs right now before I add anymore" Bucky realised, hand hovering over the cup with another shot ready to go.

"Not drunk, no drugs, just not slept in a while but I'm too busy and my friend took my coffee away!" The man explained, angrily slapping the counter before looking at where he had hit and giving a gentle rub like he was trying to soothe it "I mean, can I really call her a friend if she steals my coffee?"

"I guess not" Bucky laughed as he continued adding shots, deciding that now he knew the man hadn't slept for a while he wasn't going to give him as much as he had thought he would "Why did she steal it?"

"Go to bed, Tony, get out of the workshop, Tony, people aren't meant to live off coffee, Tony" The man, pressumbly Tony, mimicked a high voice and mocked it as he scrunched up his nose, Bucky chuckled and shook his head as he finished up the drink and passed it over. Tony took it and immediately took a huge drink of it, eyes widening when he put the cup down with a huge grin on his face "This is awesome, you are now my favourite person ever, Pepper and Rhodey suck and you are the best!"

"Thank you" Bucky couldn't help but laugh at the man who was still grinning at him, Bucky was about to ring him up when the man just handed him fifty dollars.

"That should cover it, right, keep the change and I mean, you personally keep the change because you are my favourite person ever to exist" Tony told him seriously before his phone chimed, Tony looked at the screen and squinted at the words "Fuck, gotta go, keep the money!"

And then the manic man was gone, the customers in the shop all gave Bucky and each other weird looks before they collectively laughed about it and brushed it off, not thinking anything of it. Bucky rang the drink up and realised that he had been given more or less forty dollars as a tip just because he gave a sleep deprived man some horribly strong coffee, and when he told Steve about it the man just laughed and told him to keep it quiet.

Now that should have been it about the manic man, Bucky should never have to relive it and never see him again, that's how the world works… apart from the fact Tony was standing in front of him almost a week later and looking like he was about to collapse from exhaustion any second now.

Bucky quickly, and carefully, helped Tony to a seat as close to the counter as possible so Bucky could keep an eye on him if he needed to while he made Tony's drink before which the man managed to slur out that he wanted it.

"Not drunk, no drugs, just tired" He murmured as he struggled to keep his eyes open to even look at Bucky, but obviously recognised him when he muttered his promise. Bucky nudged the man's arm and placed the cup in front of him, the strong smell of coffee waking him up and getting him to gulp down the drink needily "Life saver, you're still my favourite person"

"And you are becoming my favourite customer" Bucky laughed as he went back to cleaning the empty tables, it was dead in the shop apart from the zombie of a man he was talking to.

"Good, gotta stay in your good books for this coffee" Tony mumbled as he put his head down on the table with a groan, Bucky looked and actually looked at the exhausted man this time and noticed the dark bags under his eyes that almost made him look like he had black eyes and the frown on his face.

"Friend still got your coffee I'm guessing?" Bucky asked curiously because surely the man would have stayed home if he was that tired otherwise.

"Mhm, she doesn't understand how much work I have to do" Tony said quietly with his head still on the table, he sounded like he hadn't slept in weeks and he only moved to take a sip of his drink.

“What do you do for work?” Bucky kept questioning him however as he cleaned up around him, preparing for the rush that normally happened when most people started to leave work. Clint would be getting here half an hour before the rush so he had another pair of hands to help with the coffee orders of tired, stressed workers.

“I’m an engineer” Tony picked his head up as he spoke, his eyes still drooping slightly as he smiled “I design and invent as well”

“That’s amazing, Tony! If you’re so good with mechanics I should get you to take a look at my arm” Bucky laughed and startled when Tony bolted upright, a look of intrigue and confusion on his face “My protestetic is a bit broken” Bucky explained as he wiggled his fingers in Tony’s direction that made the man’s eyes light up.

“I can take a look at it if you want!” Tony chirped excitedly and Bucky laughed again as the engineer made grabby hands at him.

“Sorry doll, I kinda need it right now” Bucky teased and winked when Tony blushed shyly, his eyes darting away before smiling up at him again sweetly “Besides, you just told me how much work you have and I’m saving up to get a new one anyways”

Tony nodded but Bucky noticed how Tony’s eyes were tracking his arm’s movement and typing something on his phone whenever it twitched and glitched, Clint came in just before the rush happened and Bucky couldn’t keep track of what Tony was doing or where he was since Bucky had seen him get up during the rush hour. By the time the rush had been and gone, so had Tony which Bucky tried hard not to feel sad about.

Bucky was surprised to say the least when he walked into work and Natasha handed him a letter, the letter was addressed to him but the actual address was the coffee shop. He frowned but took it into the breakroom to read as he got ready for his shift, he dropped his nametag with a clatter as he had to reread it again and again.

Stark Industries would like to formally offer you a prototype prosthetic, we understand that your current one isn’t fully functional and would like to give you an opportunity to improve the future of prosthetics. If you accept, the prosthetic will be free of charge but you will be required to work with the lead engineer to improve it or make adjustments when needed.

The rest was a lot of legal information and stuff Bucky didn’t really understand, but he was dialing the number they had given him before processing the offer fully. He accepted the offer and gave them all the details he could over the phone before agreeing to send over all his documents regarding his arm. The woman on the phone explained that they’ll get in contact with him once the first model of the arm is ready to go before he hangs up. Bucky decided it was easier just to forward over the old emails he had gotten about the arm instead of trying to type it out, he couldn’t believe that he was actually going to get a new arm and for free!

Bucky couldn’t wipe the smile off his face the rest of the day, immediately telling his friends and coworkers as soon as he could. Nothing could faze his mood, not even when his fingers twitched and he split stale coffee over his lap. Tony didn’t show up today but Bucky vowed to tell him as soon as he saw him.

It was only a week and a half from when he got the letter to his first appointment, he was instructed to wear loose clothes and preferably something short sleeved especially if he wasn’t comfortable taking his shirt off while the engineer was working with him. Bucky rode the elevator up to the R&D level of Stark Industries’ building, he couldn’t stop shaking but smiled excitedly when the elevator doors opened and he stepped into a huge workshop.

“Welcome to my lab!” A familiar voice cheered, his head popped up from a workshop bench as he grinned “Told you I’d take a look at your arm!” Tony jogged over to him and laughed at Bucky’s shocked face.

“You’re Tony Stark?!” Bucky’s voice squeaked before he managed to clear his throat, his eyes still wide in shock as he stared at the man who had been wild when they first met.

“The one and only!” Tony chirped happily before waving Bucky over to the workshop table where a brand new prosthetic arm lay, a panel was open on the side where Tony had been working on it before Bucky interrupted him “I just gotta adjust something and then you’ll be able to get it on and give it a test drive”

Bucky was still in shock and proceeded to be in shock the whole time, he had followed Tony’s instructions during the meeting and tried to make conversation that didn’t make him sound like an idiot. Steve was going to laugh at him forever, Bucky had drunkenly confessed to having a huge crush on the genius after seeing a picture of him on an advert and now Bucky was working closely with him and spending a lot of time with his shirt off.

It took months before the arm was fully functioning and Tony no longer needed Bucky to finish off and the arm was connected and working perfectly, the day they had finished the arm Tony had kissed Bucky’s cheek in excitement as they hugged tightly. Bucky decided at that moment that as soon as they weren’t doing these meetings, Bucky was going to ask Tony out on a date. Tony had agreed with a laugh of ‘finally’ and they immediately made plans for the next evening, the pair’s head beating hard and in sync as they stared at each other with dopey smiles on his face.

And hey, maybe Bucky let the arm get a little busted up after their date to give him an excuse to see Tony again and ask him out once more, Tony rolled his eyes as he fixed the arm with a murmured “Don’t hurt yourself to spend time with me, I worked hard on that arm and I’d hate to think you wouldn’t be able to hold me up with it if it’s damaged”

Bucky was in love.

#tropetember #eotl writes #fanfiction #winteriron #Tony Stark #Bucky Barnes

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wiredaughter · 8 months

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∆•∆•∆

@tropetember #6: highschool au

camerashipping ☆ outlast ☆ religion critical ☆ school critical ☆ first kiss ☆ waylon park/miles upshur ☆ implied csa ☆ explosions ☆ be gay do crime and read it on ao3!

Light of the World

'That's the most disgusting thing I've heard in my life.'

'I know! Mate, I knew Loutermilch gave me the creeps, but...' Miles cut off, making a gagging face. 'It wasn't even him who got the nonce jokes right? It was father Sullivan.'

'For all I know it might be all of them.'

As soon as he said it, the idea made a shiver go through Waylon's spine, prompting Miles to wrap his leavers jumper around him. He gave him a grateful smile. The weather wasn't cold enough that he felt he was imposing and, on the other hand, it was a comforting weight; what with what he'd just learned about that kid's death. The kid.

'Wait, how's Lynn taking it?'

'Better, now that she knows she didn't do it to herself. Angry as all hell, but better.' He flicked his cigarette into the football field. 'Now, Blake - her friend, he found her- is a different thing.'

'Found her? Yeah, I'd imagine.'

'It's not just that, he went along with Loutermilch's story until Lynn managed to get the truth from him. Now he feels guilty.'

Waylon hummed, a small smile managing it's way through his face. He knew Miles sister, who was simply unfamiliar with the concept of not getting her way. 'And didn't she say something?'

'Sure she did. Dragged Blake along and, when their homeroom teacher didn't listen, she camped outside the headteacher's office.'

'Reckon old Matthews wasn't thrilled about that.'

Miles started pacing, angrily. 'That senile old bastard. All understanding; of course it's hard to lose a friend, he said, but no reason to make up stories. He threatened to write her up for cutting class!' He lit another cigarette. 'Then she tried speaking with that counseling nun, yes? Well she said the official version was already out there.'

'Give me a cigarette.'

Miles arched a brow at this, but stopped his pacing to light it for him, eyes lingering on his friend's mouth as he took a drag. When he spoke, his words had lost their heat. 'How I wish they'd all burn.'

'We could burn them.' Waylon offered, stopping to cough at the smoke before continuing. 'We should burn them.'

Miles looked at him like he'd never seen him before. 'What do you mean?'

'I think we should make a bomb.'

🔥

'Are you sure this is gonna work?'

'Early admission to Berkeley, hello? It's gonna work.'

Miles swatted his head jokingly, getting a handful of crisps thrown at his face for his trouble. 'I'm so lucky to have a computer nerd for my best friend.'

'As am I that you're uncannily good at chemistry for someone that skipped half the classes.'

'Hey, if this works we'll all graduate by default anyway, won't we?'

'When this works.'

'Right.'

Evening was just setting in when Waylon got into the security camera in the gym where the PTA night was bound to start later that night. With baited breath, the lads watched as the staff poured in, readying everything.

'Are you sure he'll be there?'

It was Miles turn to sigh this time. 'How many years I've been forging your excuses? The old man will be there, I guarantee it.' He ate some crisps and continued. 'Made it look all official, lightly threatening.'

Waylon changed to the window showing the final draft of the letter they'd sent Jessica's father, asking him to arrive to the meeting before the other parents, going over it until Miles made him change back to the cameras. It was boring work but, leaning against each other in the abandoned observatory, neither minded that much. The building was old and unstable, but that never stopped couples to go there to make out so they figured it was a good enough place to watch the destruction from a distance.

'There he is! That's him!'

For a moment, they just looked at each other, at the Voip call waiting to be placed in the screen. Waylon got up, carrying the laptop, walked to the edge to have a better final view of St Sybil. The anticipation was like an electric current going through him. He sighed when Miles' hand came to rest against this small of his back. It felt familiar, even though he had never done something like that before.

'Together?' He asked. Miles nodded, and they hit enter, eyes fixated in the building as the gym area started crumbling into itself.

'YES! Yes! It worked!'

Waylon hadn't realised how much he'd loathed that school until its destruction was underway. Until he had Miles jumping by his side, cheering and laughing, with too much joy to be held inside. He, however, didn't cheer, didn't jump. With an exhilarated breath he let the computer fall to the ground, arms busy wrapping around his friend's neck, pressing an euphoric kiss against his lips. Miles, startled, laughed into the kiss but held him closer all the same, hiding his face against his neck. 'We did it, Way, it worked!'

Waylon held him there, a hand running through his hair, heart racing with Miles arms around his waist, as he let their victory wash over him in waves now, rather than the tsunami Miles was.

'Oh my gosh.'

They jumped at that, not breaking their embrace, but turning to the small figures looking on from the trapdoor.

'Lynn?' Miles' voice was bewildered, but still older brother enough that she climbed through, followed by Blake. 'What are you two doing here?'

The boy looked embarrassed, but Lynn merely stomped her foot. 'He' She pointed accusatorily at Blake 'Told me you guys were dating, and...'

'I asked if they were!'

'Whatever.'

'So you decided to make a bet out...' Blake insisted.

'Sellout!'

Waylon giggled at that, unable to hold back, considering. Miles gave him a dramatic look of betrayal before he moved apart to manage sister down, leaving him to this sort of hysteria by himself. Miles incensed speech was, however, cut short by Blake, who'd wandered along and was now holding the laptop, staring out of the building.

'Is that our school?'

Lynn was happy for the excuse to stop listening to her brother and ran up to him, turned around, mouth agape and eyes wild. 'Well, is it?'

Miles was, for once in his life, speechless; so Waylon pulled himself together, sort of. Still grinning like a maniac he threw his arms around. 'Surprise?'

Lynn's delighted squeal, her air punches, had him rolling his eyes. Of course she was Miles sister. She clapped Blake on the shoulder. 'Classes are cancelled tomorrow!'

This got a small laugh out of him, which had Lynn continue to list the good news they cannot flunk us on English now until they were both chuckling and voting for which classrooms would better be caught in the explosion while Miles and Waylon exchanged an amused look. The latter's watch beeped on the hour, which had him give Waylon's hand a squeeze before turning to the kids, toying with his keys.

'Alright now, who wants to get Sonic?'

#tropetember #outlast #camerashipping #highschool au #hatefic #but not really #on time!#ish #tw: implied csa #outlast fanfiction #r-tropetember #soz didnt realise

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tropetember · 8 months

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lead me, guide me, walk beside me (Midam, Supernatural, Trope: First Kiss)

Sometimes he feels shattered, broken, as though the only thing holding him together is the routine and structure of his life, like metal bands around a rotted barrel.

I'm sorry, he prays, I'm sorry, but he's too cowardly to look inside himself to examine the fault that requires forgiveness.

STRONG WARNING for physical and emotional child abuse

Michael/Adam (Supernatural), 15K, cult kid / high school / human AU, angst, abuse, hurt/comfort, first kiss

Read it here on AO3

#R-tropetember #media: fanfiction #submission #ship: midam #fandom: supernatural #trope: first kiss #midam #supernatural

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wiredaughter · 7 months

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@tropetember #20: horror

Doll Parts

outlast × mother gooseberry/ofc × dracula's castle inspired × frankenstrein boogaloo × 1038 words × ao3

Life is painful as it breaks through this body in waves of electricity and heat, but not more than usual. It shocks its nerves alive, making me grind these teeth and finally, open these eyes. My eyes, I figure I'm alive enough to call them mine by now. I risk a look around, in time to see a figure disappear to the right of the table I'm strapped to. I curse silently, stop when I realise my vision is perfect again. About a week ago I got a metal rod through my left eye, and my donor had such astigmatism it was quite useless. Well, not anymore. Rather vainly, I wonder if she managed to match the colour this time. I'm cold, now that the current isn't running through me, but I'm always bare in this table so that's nothing new. I take the chance to stare myself down, take account of what is mine and what will be from now on.

My breath is shallow, fighting its way through my trachea and I can still feel the wolf closing its jaws around it, so I've probably got stitches. Stitches, like I care. By now I'm just like an used voodoo doll. Wrapped in sickly pale skin like old books. My mood is always in the gallows after a resurrection, and realising I've lost two fingers doesn't help. My new pointer finger doesn't quite fit my usual fist, and when I raise my hand as high as I can to examine it I see its complexion is also a bit of a miss. It's almost as long as my reconstructed middle finger that, while glaringly not mine, looks somewhat better since I only lost from the intermediate phalanx up. Lost. As if, I didn't lose shit, it got torn by the wolfs on steroids she keeps around the castle. Because she's not letting me leave. The though has me instinctively trying to break off my restrains, she's got no right to keep me here.

I drowned, first. Dove off through my window and tried to make it for the shore. It was still winter, and I knew I was dead as soon as I hit the water. It was a reassuring thought, if I died then she'd never get me, and the ultimate victory was mine. Right. She said it was good I did it, the cold helped keep the body in conditions while she figured out the science. Science, or curse, that keeps me waking up to the electric charge, laid out like a slab of meat in display. At first, I despised everything about it, but now I don't think I mind. Deadset as she is on bringing me back, there's no way I don't eventually get to escape. I wonder if she realises she's only making me smarter, stronger, more resistant to the pain every time I draw my newest first breath. A month ago I couldn't even make it out of the castle, now I've got out and into the forest before I lost. Who could have known about the wolves, I mean, you'd think they'd go for easier prey. I raise my hand to my face, an ugly thought fighting for my attention, run my fingertips along my skin. If she gave me a new eye it means I needed a new eye. Which means the beasts probably ate the old one, straight from my face. My breath catches when I find the sutures running down my cheek. I calm myself down, I've seen her work and she's a veritable restorer. When I blew up the main doors and got a piece of debris to my jaw so hard it dislocated, she fixed it so well you can only see the scar if you get close. And nobody gets close but her.

And she comes closer, now that I'm no longer struggling, clothes in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. Rather than letting me up she raises it to my lips, and I drink. I didn't notice I was shivering until now, hot liquid putting how cold I truly am in perspective. Not for long, though, as she frees me and helps me stand. My legs feel decayed, whether from the pure adrenaline run that lead to my dead or the electricity beats me. She doesn't mind as I lean on her for support, and I don't mind playing along. She hands me the tea and I finish it in long gulps but stay silent as she dresses me, hands covering every inch of the body she's remade for me, voice fussing about something I cannot care to hear. As usual, I kick the shoes away, and as usual she allows that.

The floor is so cold in my feet I find myself regretting that as we walk to her chambers to finish our tea, and as soon as we're seated I fold my legs to burrow them into the folds of her skirt. She looks smug at that, but I focus on my tea. She reaches for my left hand, traces the stitches, 'So you've met the wolves last night. Let me be clear, I suggest you stay off the woods in the future.'

'Does that mean you're calling me a carriage?'

'Now, why would I do that?'

Her smile is warm and she's passing me the sandwich tray but I'm nothing if not difficult. I turn my nose up at the offer. 'I want scones.'

'Last time you wanted finger sandwiches.' Her voice is patient, and gets me to pick up one. I examine it. 'You could at least try it.'

'Last time I hadn't had my face half eaten in the wilderness.' I toss the sandwich over my shoulder, fix her in a curious look. It's her move now. Undeterred, she pours me more tea, so I continue. 'Did you go out to find me or did you send the help?'

'Listen...'

'You know, I'm getting out of here, sooner than later.'

She closes her knees, trapping my feet between her thighs and I put up my token struggle as she leans in with a complacent smile. 'Later, rather than sooner if you keep skipping meals.'

#r-tropetember #soz!

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