#also did u know running is utterly miserable.

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

I ran this morning AND wrote some AND made art and I’m so proud of me

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Hi love, so I was wondering if u had any thoughts about Edward panic changing Bella if she was close to death while he was near. Like if they were in a car accident or whatever and medical help was too far away. For all his refusal to turn her and let her die naturally, he seems like he would panic and bite her when in the actual situation. (Regardless of whether or not he succeeds in turning her or mercy kills her after, because I totally agree with u about those two lmao 😭😭😂)

Hello, anon.

Well, this actually happened in canon.

The Fiasco of Bella's Emergency Birth

Bella's emergency C-section was a complete shit show and almost like an act of God to make sure Carlisle was not there. The date for the operation had been set, after weeks of starvation Carlisle finally leaves the house in order to prepare for surgery, and the second he steps out side what happens.

Bella's spine snaps like a twig, Edward has to eat his daughter out of the womb, and Bella's goes into cardiac arrest.

Bella's heart stops in the middle of this, her spine was broken, and she lost a massive amount of blood. Bella was a millisecond from death.

Edward stabs her with a syringe and chooses to turn her.

Before that point, it was unclear that he would.

He starts Breaking Dawn trying to coax Bella into postponing the change or even delaying it inevitably. His plan is to attend college with her, something Bella would physically not be capable of as a typical newborn.

Given the Volturi, this was absolutely not an option, Edward insists it is anyway.

When Bella becomes pregnant with his child, his plan is to abort her (forcibly if need be) and supply her Jacob Black as a stud in order to deliver all the human babies she could possibly want. Bella by this point cannot digest human food, her stomach has turned to stone, and Renesmee has likely damaged her internal organs beyond repair. Bella cannot go back to being an ordinary human, not without significant health issues, and that's if she survives at all (which I find doubtful).

I'm sure Edward had it in his mind that, even with Carlisle cutting Bella's uterus open with his teeth, that somehow, in some miraculous way, they might not have to turn Bella. Bella can remain human and everything will be fine.

But then Bella is dying in front of him, he sees her heart stop, and he makes the panic decision to save her life. He shoots her heart full of venom then begins CPR. Bella survives through the transformation and is turned.

To me though, this was very much a panic changing and something that was up in the air. Edward in that moment had to decide whether or not he could live without Bella, even if she's a vampire. He chose to keep her, he likely will always wonder if he made the correct choice.

But Back To Your Question

By Breaking Dawn Bella's been around a while. She's made it repeatedly clear, many many times, that she wants to be a vampire. She and Edward have extensively argued both pros and cons of vampirism. Edward's not sure Bella really gets what his reality is (she doesn't) but they have gone over it.

Bella's also talked to Carlisle, Rosalie, and Jasper about the whole vampire package. She's met multiple vampires, been attacked by multiple vampires, even Edward can't deny she's seen the ugly side of vampirism.

Bella really wants to be a vampire.

Edward has also faced reality without Bella Swan. It's bleak, cold, and endless. There is nothing for him in that world, even separating from her if she were to remain human pains him significantly.

Even Edward, stubborn as he is, could read the writing on the wall by Breaking Dawn. The decision is ruminating in the back of his mind and the option, loathe as he is to admit it, is actually on the table.

Then you have Renesmee who really helps things along. Per Renesmee, Edward decides that vampires do in fact have a soul. He is not a damned, senseless, creature and turning Bella would not condemn her to be a monster. He still likely doesn't like the idea of it, for reasons he cannot explain to himself, but his major theological argument is now gone.

Without Renesmee's gift, he may very well not have gone for that syringe.

But say we're in Twilight or even New Moon, this is a Bella Edward is sure has no idea what a vampire is. One who has not had a chance to assert a billion times that, yes, she really really really wants to do this. He's still convinced he can leave her and she can live a human life without vampires or any supernatural nonsense.

We see this Bella get significantly injured in Edward's presence.

Bella is losing a lot of blood fast after her run in with James. Carlisle has to start stitching her up immediately and get her to a hospital. A little later, and even from the blood loss she might have died. She's also been been bitten.

To stop her transformation, the venom would have to be sucked out, something notoriously difficult to do even under the best of circumstances. Bella's currently bleeding profusely and is Edward's singer: this is a death sentence.

Rather than panic change her, Edward panic keeps her human. He sucks the poison out, nearly going too far and killing her, and risks her death to keep her human.

In that moment, though it's a flash decision, Edward would rather Bella die than turn her. (After which, of course, he would go to Volterra to kill himself and give Aro an aneurism).

He repeats this sort of idea throughout the series. Notable are the times that Bella gives him hypothetical scenarios, increasingly ridiculous, to see what he would come up with.

A car crashes? Edward never crashes cars, he is that awesome at driving. And if the car crashes anyway, he has the reflexes of a panther, he'll unbuckle Bella, vault out of the car, and heroically jump out the back window to safety and humanity. Bella will never be injured.

A plane crashes? Edward unbuckles Bella from her seatbelt, carries her bridal style to the emergency exit, and then throws them both out the window and to safety... some tens of thousands of feet below preferably in water. He and Bella are then photographed as the sole miraculous survivors of this terrible tragedy. (When Edward gave this answer, I had my answer as to whether or not Edward actually passed his basic physics class. The answer, children, is no.)

Granted, these are not actual scenarios, and it's easier to give these kinds of answers than talk about them. But it's very telling that in Twilight, when Bella point blank tells him that one day she will die and that is the truth of humanity, he essentially says, "Blue Screen: ERROR" back to her followed swiftly by, "THE SUBJECT IS CLOSED".

Back to Your Question (Again)

But let's say we have your scenario. The summer after James, in Bella and Edward's summer of love before the birthday disaster, Edward (say it ain't so) crashes the fucking Volvo.

What can one expect when making a sharp turn at 110 MPH? Well, Edward has the reflexes of a panther, so he never saw it coming somehow. Bella, of course, saw it coming the first time she stepped into Edward's car.

Edward walks out fine, Bella... does not. The car's down in a ravine, Bella's bleeding out, it is clear she is not going to survive this and Edward cannot get her to the hospital in time even with his speed.

Well, given this is Twilight, and given the shock of all of this and suddenness, Edward could very well black out and eat her. When Edward comes to, he's om nom noming on Bella's battered corpse.

Edward runs away to Italy to kill himself.

Say he doesn't though, Edward manages to hold his breath or else miraculously control himself. Bella's still bleeding out, and giving him this very dazed, expectant, look. From Bella's face, it's clear what she's thinking: Turn Me, You Dipshit.

However... I imagine if Bella can't say the words out loud, Edward while panicked and in terror of losing her, won't do it. He will not condemn her to vampirism without her explicit consent.

Let's say Bella gurgles out, "Turn me, Edward"

Well, things just got a whole lot harder. This is now Bella's dying wish, she's looking at him even as the light fades out of her eyes, and he can see the growing resignation and disappointment in them. Edward will have this image with him forever, the life, light, and love bleeding out of Bella and her undoubtedly final thoughts that Edward was never worthy of her.

Honestly? Toss a coin.

I could see it going either way.

Edward stalls so long, deliberating, that the time for action passes. Bella dies right in front of him. That, or he sees her life force flickering and before he can think about it he bites her (whether to eat her or turn her we'll never truly know) and then it's too late, it's done, he's turned her himself. (If, of course, he doesn't accidentally kill her in the process).

The Aftermath

If he turns her then Edward will forever be haunted by the guilt that he destroyed Bella Swan. He turned her into a monster, just as he feared, and has condemned her to this miserable existence where she becomes orphaned from everything she knew.

Edward in this situation breaks things off with Bella (very awkward as they're part of the same coven now), he can't handle the guilt of what he did to her or what she now is. He thinks about mercy killing her, but given it's his own damn fault, is probably very conflicted and feels unworthy of taking even this action. All of this just makes him the lowest of worms.

Bella is utterly devastated that Edward appears to no longer love her (just as she suspected) and tries desperately to assure him that she loves being a vampire. She's finally comfortable in her own skin. She certainly still loves him and more, even if she wasn't happy, she gave her consent and would never hold that against him.

Edward doesn't care.

Edward likely goes to Rio to try to wrap his head around everything and be miserable by himself. Alice and Jasper likely leave on Alice's journey of self-discovery (but mostly to just avoid the emotional turmoil of the Cullen household). Rosalie actively blames Bella for this and tells her so to her face, Esme is an utter wreck, and Carlisle's working triple overtime at the hospital. Bella is even more devastated, she's Yoko Ono breaking apart the Beatles.

Bella offers to leave the Cullens. If she leaves then everything will go back to normal, right?

Everyone protests. But everyone here is pretty much Esme and Carlisle. But mostly Carlisle. Esme tries to, but it's in between sobs, where she talks about how beautiful Bella and Edward were AND THEY CAN WORK IT OUT. Emmett would, but Rosalie views Bella as a home wrecker and he has to side with the wife. Which just leaves Carlisle trying to lamely insist this isn't her fault.

It isn't, but, well, things are very bad right now.

Carlisle likely sets up Bella with the Denali. This ends after a few weeks, Bella can't handle the lifestyle and being the ugly brunette sister. Bella likely becomes a nomad and catches up with the Cullens every few years or so.

The 'Cullens' of course, becoming smaller and smaller each consecutive visit as the coven utterly dissolves.

The last time Bella visits, it's just Carlisle. Esme ran off to support Edward in Rio, Alice and Jasper never came back, and Rosalie and Emmett are on their 23rd honey-moon.

And that's how Bella rejoins the Cullens (i.e. Carlisle).

It's very awkward.

[randomshenaniganery]

If I got placed in Obey Me! Shall We Date

Me: I always knew I was going to hell

M: To all the fuckers that said I’m going to hell I’m already here and I’m coming back bitches * puts on mammon’s shades * 

M: That’s hella nuts

M: I’d say thank God but I don’t think this can apply to this situation

M: I was going to say I’m going to hell for this but what do you know

M: Do my sins count if I’m already in hell?

M: Not today Satan! * throws down a bottle of holy water and runs * 

M: What are you going to do kill me? I already died once try me bitch

M: Hey man don’t piss off lucifer we don’t want another Satan

M: I mean if humans knew that you guys are demons and you exist there’s going to be an overpopulation problem in here just saying

M: I’m not saying Diavolo is a DILF BUT-

M: Barbatos tell me the truth is your torture chamber for u or not because the fandom can’t decide if you are a sadist or a masochist but also WHY DO YOU LIKE BEING IGNORED?????

M: Polygamy is dating lucifer who’s dating Diavolo

M: * every time I receive a gift from Diavolo * Daddy who? 

M: I’m already in hell I have nothing to lose come at me bitch

M: ohhh teaaaa-no Barbatos I did not mean actual tea-

M: HOW DARE YOU LEVI MONIKA IS BEST GIRL-

M: I want Lotan 

M: Beel is my emotional support huggable bear

M: Beel no matter what anyone tells you, you are an angel

M: Look me in the eyes and tell me Asmo and Solomon haven’t fucked. LOOK ME IN THE EYES-

M: I’m going to kill god and chop him up to little pieces and feed him to my starving child *gestures to Beel * (this is a line from starkid) 

M: Simeon how do I make a formal complaint to God about human existence?

M: Belphie you literally chose a dumbass reason to hate humanity, there are so many good ones to choose from

M: I’m not saying humanity is worse than demons but like ya know * gestures vaguely that humanity is definitely worse than demons *

M: Lucifer please cosplay for me and Levi

M: Mammon I choose you! 

M: If a demon tries to attack me I have the right to shove bleach down their throat right? It won’t KILL them but it would definitely be painful. But also can I keep their skull-

M: Dear Daddy Lord Diavolo the next time you get an exchange student please send a letter because I would have come here willingly anyway

M: Solomon you have to reenact this Greatest Showman scene with me or I will feel utterly betrayed

M: Jesus FUckinG Christ-stop making that face Luke

M: I like how you guys summoned me it’s like I’m the demon and yes I am I’m here to make six months of your eternal lives miserable

M: Top, bottom, bottom, top, switch, switch, switch 

M: The only reason why I’m mad at you Belphie is because you killed me for a stupid reason like come on man kill me because you ACTUALLY hate me ya know??

M: I totally would dissect demons if given the opportunity ya know for science

M: Levi you’re not ugly or misshapen it’s just that your brothers have given you impossibly high standards

M: Mammon u fucking sub

M: technically that’s not your brother that’s your nephew

M: Asmo are you sure you’re not the avatar of pride because that’s a hella lot of vanity you have there

M: who the fuck named Devildom 

M: so... theoretically how would one go about to wake up the demon king-what?? I said theoretically!

M: Purgatory was created by Dante because of his fanfiction 

M: God’s existence is the validation of millions of people’s pain and suffering just sayin’

M: Well fuck man I’m atheist I don’t know how to react to being summoned by demons 

M: Solomon if you don’t have a spell that helps me get rid of mosquitoes that goes near then what’s the fucking point

M: Hell is dark like my soul

M: You guys just went with the fucking aesthetic with these buildings huh

M: So wanna bet who’s the top with Diavolo and Lucifer-oh fuck pleasenohavemercy

M: Hi Beel I’m going to jump down please catch me 

M: Beel is the only one that I give permission to eat me but eating me out is an entirely different conversation just sayin’

M: Belphie I challenge you to a lazy contest

M: Levi please buy a Rimuru plushie for me onegaishimasu

M: I’m trying to out weeb Levi but he’s such a gatekeeper

M: I hope to God that none of you will ever discover my reddit and youtube history

M: Simeon did you write the future or were you writing fanfiction about the brothers-

M: Luke hating demons is racist

M: God saw the demon race and decided to be creative in the weirdest ways Levi just what even are you wearing

M: Asmo I hate to say this but Mammon out sluts you in his demon form 

M: The only thing I’d marry is a dragon-Dia no

M: Beel I love you like a mother because none of you have ever had a motherly figure and I doubt your emotional maturity sometimes.

M: I’m not in the anti-lucifer group I’m in the anti-everybody

M: Sebastian michaelis nooooooooo

[wolfsneedles]

My Re-read of a storm of swords and i just cant get over how interesting it as book with iconic lines and carefully crafted dialogues and some miserable important deaths of some of my fav characters. Like this book, is really the iphone of asoiaf lol. A fine wine. Arbor gold. It starts from same events left incomplete in clash of kings but only that now every person meets their consequences and disastrous results of wrong moves & mistakes end so perfectly and painfuly in conclusive way. A feast for crows obviously focuses more on king's landing events and some of the riverlands with brienne and jaime. Might say it isn't my fav book yet since im reading it too apart from some breathtaking prophecies and aemon declaring how prince that was promised could be --> dany

However, ASOS is best best book ever. So much mess and bittersweet endings.

You see catelyn, robb and riverlands arc ending in the most tragic way as result of all small excusable mistakes to the reader that piled up and finally execution of red wedding with bangs and drums, not to mention this event was so catatonic and an irreversible tragedy that almost all characters had visions and dreams of it (patchface, Ghost of high heart, theon, daenerys, jon perhaps later) knowing half of these characters never met the victims of the red wedding.

This event also meant - northern power of houses and faith of independence and somewhat retribution they deserved or wish they had is thwarted now and almost all of them die there esp strength of dustin, manderlys along with boltons betraying them and roose coming out as an iconic cold hearted brute and villain somewhat.

This book also shows how stark sisters had their paths turned after the tiring chasing and running away like arya through war torn lands and sansa finally fleeing KL to Vale with littlefinger - in a way a complete revival again of her and arya embarking on to braavos with an entirely different name now and somewhat purpose we dont know yet also ends her arc of sadness and despair she felt when chasing and running towards her lady mother and robb at the twins. kind of tragic tbh more for her how she saw or heard almost every death of a stark. near to her or family, she saw horror unfolding in front of her eyes.

You have lannisters coming off as victorious ( not really then...) since tywin and tyrion's last scene is iconic. Its like how the might of house lannister which in case tywin refers to himself is broken on a freaking privy - somewhat bittersweet ending since we know cersei and jaime are already not so in a good mental state to make up for heir of casterly rock - and then we have tyrion fleeing too again, once more, finally, to essos as we know. This ending of his arc in KL is also imp since he entered this city like tywin as hand of the king and is leaving like a prisoner. Idk seems perfect to me how he runs and tywin who came as hand of king replacing his son, now goes back in ehh coffin...glory indeed.

You have bran and rickon already parting in ACOK, BUT now the most importent part of brans journey also begins somehow. and therefore him abandoning winterfell and that side of north for further journey is too sad for me too in a lot of ways. His connection to his own home as the last stark who was residing there has ended too (prob bloodraven has more action for my boy i hope).

You have Lysa Tully in the Vale before sansa arrived there with baelish, and she also ultimately gets too much of frightening end in same castles and doors she never opened for anyone - even refusing to help her sister during war because now i wonder had the vale signed for stark side, how different circumstances would be but then tywin wanted to play rains of castamere so bad (i hate him sorry)

Jaime and Brienne still were busy in their road ventures and romantic comedy but him arriving as cripple and maimed to KL, is again of uttermost importance since he in his thoughts lose a lot of confidence in himself now not really making him a perfect candidate for so many things,,, again he has to sort out some issues with his big of bully sister and not-so-accommodating power hungry deluded father but he chose to argue and decline offer for heir of rock and also confessed his utter disregard for poor kids he have, joffrey especially. Idk im so confused what this golden lion & a trained chivalrous warrior is onto since jaime's chapter is like a realistic slap on your face & we see his POV in ASOS only and then he just goes thru huuuge turmoil lol. (not good day or year for him tbh)

Lastly we have daenerys who then vows to settle in mereen making it evident in way how she isn't obsessed with utter power and throne of her ancestors as some ppl speculate, ofc she appears in ADWD again but her freeing slaves and singing dracarys is my another fav momet of ASOS, since dany is really not a frightened confused child she was, she is getting hold of things in realistic way too, and meets barristan, gets to know abt their betrayals, basically gets Unsullied, idk a major iconic moment if u see in contrast to how everyone is losing war now in westeros and wo5k is coming to kind of an end, with balon dying, robb and joff dead, and stannis...(well he is another spiritual case) going to the wall, we see how horrifying brutal war did come to an end in ASOS in the end eventually with tywin also dying. So dany getting an army of unsullied opposed to all other armies kind of dissolving in westeros is quite a distinction. ( bonus points she is young and woman and alone and has 3 dragon )

On the Wall - jon plays and practiced swords with emmett and then struck by memory of him and robb playing & above all how he wants to be lord of winterfell. In the end Jon Snow wins the vote in a landslide victory and is named the 998th Lord Commander. His entire journey from start of ASOS was with ygritte and Wildlings and then finally giving up on mance and returning to Wall with no expectations of him being commander after having spent moments alone and with wildlings and others with him just a ranger.

Realising in the end now, how storm of swords puts people in power like jon and dany and others like boltons and freys in north & riverlands, at the same time starks and lannisters are in way battered and struck by at a time tragedies. Half of people who were away from their families unite or return back like jaime while other half return somewhere more far (arya sansa at vale and braavos with bran more far from winterfell, rickon too), most of the 5 kings are dead too. Also aftermath of war at end of ASOS and AFFC also describes perfectly the attitude and responses of smallfolk towards whoever results in being the king of no concern to them. Most of the small roads and inns were damaged and plundered with woman and children killed or raped and men usually dead too. When we see arya or jaime and brienne usually, we read their POVs, we also see the wrenching elements of war too and how main message could also be that lords play their game of thrones but peasants suffer dreadfully more, we also see how smallfolks have no trust or loyalties towards any house or liege lord. They usually refer to starks and lannister conflict as 'wolves came...or lions did this'. Major point i noticed.

not to mention again, in essos and on the wall 2 different realities and places that mid westeros, we see dany and jon and their ingrown different experiences and attitudes towards smallfolks. freeing of slaves and getting some loyalties tied to you, while living with wildlings and seeing how they rule and eat and sleep like a commoner is so important. The Wall also gives meaning to how real breathing humans are segregated from westeros and other houses as result of prejudice and inborn enmities. The slaves in chains indicate how their little lives in Yunkai is not of importance when they are...utterly children. some of them.

ASOS has major shifting thoughts and stories tbh. Its like gospel of asoiaf for me.

[sunshinemellow-fic]

thank you for the tag @kuriousaboutuzumakis !! 

Rules: List 10 things you are thankful/grateful for that happened in 2021:

1. This was my first full year out of school / a very rigorous exhausting program that left me with... 0 sense of self (WHOOPS). So I started watching TV again which sounds silly but I hadn’t watched full shows in their entirety for years! I forgot how nice it was to just curl up on the couch and become a potato. 

2. In the same vein as being freshly out of school, this was the first year I had the bandwidth to do a lot of the Adult Things that I had procrastinated doing while in school! Finding a local dentist / primary care Dr / etc. I was a wreck in terms of my health and had previously just not done any routine checkups (lol) so this was Big for me! 

3. More health stuff-- got blood panels done! I was miserable and had just assumed I was physically healthy bc I was running long distances each week and that all my misery was caused by mental health problems. Finally got nutritional blood panels done and it turns out I’m deficient in like everything related to mood! This tracks, bc I generally eat like an unmanaged 13 yr old boy, but in some ways it was a big relief to know part of my current condition is “fixable” via food and supplements when I had just assumed it was my baseline state.  

4. Made a bunch of Fancy Adult purchases. Got myself a really nice mattress and a really nice bed. And bookshelf. And other unnecessary things to turn my apartment into something that resembles an adult habitat LMAO. It is very nice and light and airy and exactly my aesthetic which feels Good.  

5. Started crocheting again! I’ve made a couple of things that I have given away. Working on a blanket for my grandma now. 

6. Once I was vaccinated, I started hanging out with friends again! Board game nights and museum trips and lots and lots of boba. Went to a halloween party and slept on a friend’s floor bc we were too drunk to make it to the beds HAHAH. Embarrassing but also feels nice to have these early 20s experiences. 

7. Started reading books! In school I took a bunch of lit courses but I had stopped reading books for pleasure rather than study (of course books for study can be pleasurable but not exactly in the same way). I read like a book a week this year which felt Utterly Luxurious given my previous lifestyle. 

8. Started saying no to things when I knew they would impact my health! I used to be the kind of person who would work through the night (I still am, I did a bunch of those this year lol) but I’m getting better at looking at the time and saying, alright I need sleep more than I need to get this done. I am still working on this lol. Working on cutting work off once the weekend starts and keeping my work computer Shut through Saturday and Sunday. 

9. Setting financial goals! I wish this was something that is discussed more but I understand why it isn’t-- it can be very stressful and private. But I built up a several month emergency fund for rent/food if I ever need it! Also contributed big chunks to multiple retirement accounts and got it invested and learned about stonks which was both Stressful and Empowering! As someone who doesn’t have a good relationship with my parents and who cannot rely on them as a safety net (bc honestly, we all will need safety nets at different points in our lives), it was very important that I do this for myself to feel safe! 

10. I adopted my cat in 2020 but I spent this year relentlessly spoiling her. She is a brat and a tyrant and I couldn’t be prouder. 

Tagging (im sorry if u have already done this, I haven’t been online in forever and might have missed it): @birkastan2018 @sleepyfoxfanworks @heyitswrenn @bl1ndbraavosi @gleafbb @x-cloud-x

[guessmonsta]

In The Woods Somewhere (Fae! Akaashi x Fem! Reader) (NSFW)

Hi cuties :’) Do I even need to apologize for being inactive at this point? Lmao. I’ll never return to my peak in 2016/2017, haha. Anyway, this was a request from my friend that I realized I never posted. Oops. I hope u like it I luv yall sm!!!!

______________________________________________________________

The first time she saw him it was May. Dewdrops danced on Silver Dollars and Lamb’s-ear, and Jasmine and Lily of the Valley were braided into her hair. She spent her days in May collecting flowers and herbs for her mother, ever since spring came, her mother had been bedridden, and worrying __ mad. She knew the herbs would help substantially, but she also knew the roses and carnations would heal a different side of her mother. On her way down to the carnation field just beyond the woods that swallowed her quaint little property, she saw him. She knew who he was, rather what he was before she had the opportunity to approach him. If she hadn’t the knowledge very little would have kept her from running to him. Her mother always warned her of his kind, they were dangerous, they would rip out your womb and starve you of food- but the way his gunmetal eyes stared into hers the moment he noticed her walk past him was enough to have her in his trance. He sat inside a faerie ring, several small birds clung to his sides, and a Barn Owl perched on his arm. If it weren’t for her mother on her mind, perhaps she would have been bolder- instead, she just broke a moment of eye contact and walked right past him, choosing to ignore his existence, and he ignored hers. 

The second time she saw him, she wasn’t so timid. Spore prints were her intention that day, or at least that’s what she told her mother, and while toadstools grew at random in the clearing in her backyard, she couldn’t help but be attracted to the faerie ring in which she had seen him the first time. 

Much to her disappointment, the face she had stumbled across weeks ago wasn’t present. It would’ve been easier for her to acknowledge him if he was already there, but she figured she would have to take measures into her own hands. With little to no forethought, she held her breath, closed her eyes, then stepped right into the vacant ring in the clearing. 

Before she even had the opportunity to open her eyes, she felt her body being vaulted backwards. She shrieked, then groaned as her back hit the ground beneath her. Upon opening her eyes, she saw him, the Fae with the beautiful eyes staring down at her. She couldn’t help but smirk at the slightest- lore always said that the Fae folk would do anything to make you miserable, but it almost seemed like this one was looking out for her. Before she could say anything to him, he disappeared just as fast as he came. She picked herself back up, sighed, then returned back home. 

Then she didn’t see him for a while. While she knew it was for the best, a part of her ached for a missed opportunity. There could’ve been so much adventure at hand if only she had acknowledged him, even if it meant giving up her womb. All she could do was fantasize about what could’ve been at night before she went to bed. It was all she ever did. 

Until she woke up to a pile of feathers on her windowsill. They were kept still by a small pebble from her garden, but the array was beautiful. A Blue Jay, a Crow, a Cardinal, and a Goldfinch. Accepting gifts from the Fae was strictly prohibited, yet she grabbed the feathers, and sprinted towards the faerie ring in which she had paid her visits to one too many times. 

She didn’t sit inside the ring, instead, just kneeling on the outside with the feathers cradled gently in her hands. 

“Hello?” She called out. If anyone caught her, she would look terribly foolish talking to herself while holding a handful of feathers. “This gift is beautiful, but my mother would tell me I cannot accept it.” 

She waited a moment, then heard the soft tap of footsteps on the grass behind her. Spinning around, she saw him, in all of his glory. He really was a beautiful thing, and that’s why she reckoned she thought of him so much. There was something about his aura, and those beautiful eyes, she couldn’t help but smile when she saw him. 

“Hello.” 

“Are you a fool?” He replied, towering over her as he stood across her. 

“Maybe.” She replied. “Or maybe I just want to be your friend.” 

“That would make you a fool.” Uncharacteristic for a faerie, he sat down next to her, and handed her another feather- a Great Horned Owl. 

“Thank you.” She smiled, and she immediately watched his stoic expression switch to a frown. 

“You weren’t supposed to say that.” 

“I wasn’t aware that this was a test.” __ shrugged, twisting the Owl feather between her fingers. “So, what do I owe you?” 

The Faerie looked at her, baffled, and cocked an eyebrow. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then shut it, merely shaking his head in response. 

“You wanting to involve yourself with the Fae takes the fun out of all of this, you do know that, correct?” He sighed, and __ merely giggled. 

“Am I making your job difficult?” 

“No, no, just interesting.” 

“Well, you were the one who pushed me from the ring and brought me a gift. From my side, it feels like you’re the one who’s seeking me out.”

“Perhaps I’m looking for companionship.” __ felt her heart skip a beat as her eyes locked with his. Before she thought they were a light shade of bluish gray, but under the canopy of leaves, they looked a deep green. Maybe his eyes were magic, too. 

“My name is __.” __ smiled, taking a feather and reaching it out to brush it gently against the bridge of his nose, causing him to jump back in confusion. “And yes, that is my real name. __ __. Use it at your will.” 

“Are you that bored?” A slight chuckle passed the lips of the Fae as he shook his head. “Or are you that trusting?” 

“Perhaps a little mix of both…” She trailed off, searching for the name of the Fae across from her. He blinked at her slowly, the mechanics of his mind working out whether or not he could trust her with his own name or not. She smiled softly as she watched his thought process, fiddling with the feather in her hands as she did. 

“My name is Akaashi Keiji.” He smiled softly. “You may call me Keiji.” 

“Keiji.” The name felt like honey butter against her lips and she smiled, bidding him farewell using his lovely name, Keiji, and skipping back to her house. 

The friendship that blossomed between the two was unusual, yet __ had somehow managed to keep it a secret from her mother. It wasn’t difficult to sneak around, especially since her poor mother had been bedridden for quite some time. It had gotten to the point where it was worrying, her rendezvous with her companion cut short, and missed as the weeks progressed. Keiji still left small gifts on her windowsill, almost as a beacon for her to visit him, yet she felt overwhelming guilt at the thought of her leaving her poor mother alone in a terrible time. Between praying to every deity for her mother's safety, and attempts to nurse her mother back to health, she found it hard to think about anything else besides her mother, even if the word “Keiji” found itself tumbling off her lips at random times throughout the day. 

Then, as his name fell from her lips once as she brewed her mother a chamomile tea, she realized her situation. Keiji, he was a Faerie, he could heal her mother. The adrenaline of this realization ran through her body like lightning, and as soon as she handed her mother her tea and gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead, she left through the front door and sprinted through the woods. 

Keiji must have felt her energy, because as soon as she stumbled towards the ring, he was already there. She looked like a decent mess, the hem of her skirt and her knees covered in grass stains from tripping over herself. Keiji looked at her in surprise and what he could only describe as his form of excitement. 

“Oh, Keiji, Keiji.” She gasped, attempting to catch her breath. “Can you please help me?” 

“You’re aware everything comes at a cost, correct?” He muttered, offering her a seat next to him on the grass. She sat down quickly, then grabbed his hands in hers, causing him to flinch at the slightest. 

“Keiji, please, my mother…” __ still struggled to catch her breath, a mix between sprinting and her adrenaline. “My mother has been gravely ill for quite awhile and I’m afraid she isn’t going to make it much longer.” 

“And you would like me to…” 

“Please make her better. I will do absolutely anything in return.” 

“Ah, health.” Keiji sighed deeply and cocked his head. “It isn’t impossible for me. When your mother wakes up tomorrow morning, she will be in perfect health. Memories of her illness will be faded and distant and she will be up and active just as she was before she was ill.”  

“Are you serious?” __ responded, almost giddy, a smile cracking on her face. 

“Yes. It’s very possible. However, you are aware that there is a heavy price to pay.” 

“God, Keiji, I gave you my name when we first met, I don’t care about prices.” 

“Well, this one might be different for you.” He blinked slowly, catching __’s gaze. “In return for your mothers health, your mortality belongs to me.” 

“Woah.” __ inhaled sharply, then exhaled deeply. “So, does that mean that I have to die, you own me until I die or-” 

“It means you’ll have to live in limbo between your realm and mine for the rest of my eternity.” 

“Immortality doesn’t seem so bad.” 

“You might eat your words.” 

“Do I still get to see my mother?” 

“Yes, until you gradually outlive her then-” 

“Well I would’ve outlived her eventually.” 

“You’re insatiable, woman.” Keiji sighed, rubbing his temples. “Is there seriously nothing wrong with giving away your precious human life to a Fae?” 

“Not when it’s you, Keiji.” 

__ watched his eyes roll into the back of his head, then watched his chest rise and fall heavily. Soft hands fell onto hers, and her eyes met his. 

“You’re completely and utterly confident in your decision?” Keiji asked once more, almost insecure about their transaction. 

“Yes, Keiji. My mother means everything to me.” __ nodded. 

“Enough to give yourself away to me?” 

“Well-” __ paused, giving his gentle hands a squeeze, “This is just a win win situation for me.” 

She watched as Keiji’s frown twisted into a silhouette of a smile, and his hands crept up her arms, up to her shoulders, and he pushed her gently back against the soft grass beneath them. 

“In all my years I’ve never met somebody quite as insane as you, my dear __ __.” 

“And yet here we are. I’m the one you chose to give my mortality up to you.” 

“Yes I did.” 

Keiji leaned down and ever so gently kissed the tip of her nose, her cupid's bow, then her lips. __ all but eagerly kissed back, the softness of his lips something completely foreign to her. A shiver of excitement ran up her spine as she kissed him back, her hands running up his back to bury themselves in a mess of wavy black hair. 

“You’re so enticing.” Keiji muttered against her lips. “I was waiting for this.” 

“You didn’t have to wait for me to come crying over my mother to have me.” __ giggled. “You’ve had me all along.” 

A guttural groan came from the back of Keiji’s through as he kissed her again, deeper and rougher than the first time. 

“A human has never made me feel this way before.” 

“And I take that as an honor.” 

__ buried her nose in the crook of Keiji’s neck, kissing his collarbone then ever so gently nipping her teeth against his copper flesh. She felt him sigh against her cheek as she kissed his collarbone rougher, then trailing a mix of gentle and bruising kisses up the column of his neck. 

“If I’m going to be yours forever…” __ cradled Keiji’s face in her hands as she kissed him on the lips once again, “You’re going to have to show me how worth it it’ll be.” 

Keiji wasted no time in crashing his lips into hers, kissing her so gently, so feverishly it brought chills up her spine. Her arms snaked around his neck again, kissing him deeper, deeper, feeling every pulse in her body beat for him. Heaven knows she’s wanted this, it was even more enticing now that it was magically bound. She felt his cold hands run under the hem of her dress, and wordlessly she let him slip it off of her body and over her head- she wanted to be exposed for him. It was silly, foolish, throwing herself at a man like this, it was something completely foreign to her, yet lit a spark inside of her core the more she thought about it. The embarrassment and inevitable realization was sure to come later, but in the meantime, as Keiji began to place cold, gentle kisses below her navel, the only thing she could focus on was him. His fingers danced over the sculpt of her hip bones, and eventually, the softness of her inner thighs. 

“Dare I ask for your consent?” He muttered, leaving __ giggling. 

“After I sell my soul to you?” 

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to be respectful.” Keiji  hummed, his hands running up her body again and leaving goosebumps in their wake. __ sat in silence, unaware of what his next move would be. Her heart was in her throat as Keiji got closer and closer in between her legs, and he could tell. When he reached the seam of her bloomers he chuckled deeply, and placed a deep, open mouth kiss against the fabric. She all but jumped, the feeling wasn’t foreign ate her own hand, but being caught engaging in these activities with the boys in her village was taboo, and she was far from being experienced. She wondered if Keiji wordlessly knew, or assumed she knew what she was doing. Nevertheless, Keiji gently slipped her bloomers off  of shaking legs, and wasn’t late to rubbing at her slit. 

“Oh!” She jumped, completely surprised. She hadn’t anticipated him finding her sweet spot so quick, let alone touching her at all. Keiji paused for a minute to unbutton his thin shirt, and she propped herself up on her elbows to watch him. His skin was the most beautiful shade of tan, she noticed, her eyes running up and down his torso and noticing the veins that webbed around his sculpted arms. Next were his trousers, he was expressionless as he did this, and it would’ve been frightening if she hadn’t previously learned that he majored in stoicism. When his member popped out of his boxers, she let out a tiny exhale. It seemed perfect, pretty even, and definitely wasn’t lacking. She moved to throw her bra off of her, she found no shame now in being completely exposed to him. Their bond was eternal from here. And as if it were on instinct, she opened her legs more for him, which was greeted with more rubbing against her clit. 

“Oh god, Keiji.” She threw her head back and whimpered. Her eyes blurred for a moment as she focused on the full moon above her, and all the stars that danced around it. She found it harder and harder to keep herself propped up on her elbows, her high chasing her the more he moved against her. 

Her arms collapsed underneath her, and the moment her back hit the grass, the first heavy wave of her orgasm hit her, a deep and heavy sigh escaping her as it did. His name was all she could moan as she rode out her high, strangled breaths leaving her mouth afterwards. It hit her like a train, the pure and unholy satisfaction of pleasure wasn’t foriegn to her, but in this circumstance, it left her dripping onto the grass below them. This didn’t go unnoticed by him, he ran one finger up her slit, which caused her to jolt from her after high sensitivity. Keiji merely smirked, leaning over her body to catch her lips in a kiss once again. 

“Kei-” She stammered against his lips, trying to prop herself back up on her arms to look up at the gorgeous Fae who she was enamored with. “Keiji.” 

“Yes, my dear?” 

“Oh god, Keiji, fuck me.” 

There was a foreign thrill of being exposed in nature the way her and Keiji were at the moment. She could feel her heartbeat all throughout her body as Keiji positioned himself above her, his lips on her chest as he got a feel for her body. An owl hooted off in the distance, crickets chirped and other gentle sounds of nature were all that she could hear besides Keiji’s gentle breaths. In one slow, fluid movement, he slid himself inside of her to the hilt. She almost felt paralized, nothing else dared cross her mind besides Keiji. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she kissed him. The numb pain was worth it, anything was worth being close to him. 

“You’re doing so well.” His voice was still so monotonous, it spawned butterflies in her stomach. She opened her mouth to speak again, but at that moment Keiji pulled out and slammed into her again, only ammitting a small, gentle squeak from her. Keiji began to rut into her at an even pace, leaving her wordless and tingling on the earth below. She let out another pathetic moan, wishing she could do more for him from her submissive position. 

“You’re so fucking-” She stopped to sigh, then grabbed at the roots of the grass underneath her. “You’re so fucking etheral, Keiji.”

Keiji chuckled in response, his thrusts getting deeper and deeper the more he moved. The feeling of being exposed to him and mother nature sent chills across her bare body. She wished she could do more for him, make him feel better too, but her had her locked in this pathetic position, all she could do was spread her legs further apart and let him fuck her senselessly. 

And he did. The soft pants that came from his parted lips made her feel even more full than before, and the more she thought about the way he stretched her, the wetter she felt herself become. This didn’t go unnoticed by Keiji at all, him making a comment on how she was such a good girl. Her senses were clouded by chills and sex and butterflies in her stomach. 

“You’re doing so good.” Keiji hummed, yet his monotonous voice sounded a little more strangled. “I’m gonna come.” 

“Come inside me.” She muttered, not even thinking. “I’m yours.” 

Moments later, with a gentle groan, his thrusts came to a halt, and spilled himself inside of her. She felt fuller, fuller than before, and warm. She sighed softly, holding him against her with his cock buried deep inside of her still. 

“Am I worth it for forever?” She asked, her fingers running through his hair as she kissed his forehead gently. “Do you really want me forever?” 

“Yes.” Keiji hummed, kissing her back. “And I wish you found me sooner.”

[hunnyuwu]

Royal Flour || NCT Jeno

Premise: Y/N is the child of a local baker in a small village within the kingdom's vast circle. While everyone in town is in love with Y/N, the poor child seems to never take notice, committing all of their time to her time to perfecting father's meticulous craft. What happens when the kingdom’s prince first lays his eyes on her?

Pairing: fem! reader x prince! Jeno

WC: 3.5k

Warning: this will be extremely cliche and cringe hehe

__________________________

Y/N hummed to the soft tune that danced into her father's bakery through the open windows. The local string instrument genius was out again like usual, and Y/N was so grateful for the boy who constantly practices out in the courtyard by her house. It gave her so much pleasure to listen to the beautiful tune as she rolled out her millionth dough in her lifetime. Even if it is repetitious, Y/N never saw baking as a chore, the love her father had for it really did transfer straight to her.

"Ah, good morning, Y/N!" Y/N looked up from her pin roller, a gentle smile climbing to her lips.

"Hey, Luna! The usual?"

The girl younger than Y/N by a few years nodded frantically, excited for the steaming, fluffy bread. No one's bread could compete with her father's bakery.

"How has your father been, Y/N?" Luna hummed, looking around the nearly empty shop. It was only the crack of dawn, so it made sense.

"He's recovering, I believe he will be back soon!" Y/N chirped, packaging up five loaves and a few pastries into a large canvas carrier. While Luna used to only get one loaf per two days, the girl now was a daily customer, heaving a whopping five loaves away every day. As a special thanks, Y/N always slipped in extras for Luna, the cute girl had a special place in Y/N's heart.

"That's great to hear. Tell him to get well soon for me, okay!" Luna gave Y/N a sweet look, gratefully accepting the large bag from Y/N.

"Are you sure you will be able to carry those all by yourself, Luna? I can ask a friend to help you. I'd come myself, but I can't leave my father's shop unattended."

Luna waved Y/N's concern off, "Stop worrying, Y/N. I'm capable of this much. I'm off!"

Luna set off to the door, but a question flooded Y/N's mind, "Luna!"

Luna's curly hair spun around, letting the petite girl look back to Y/N.

"I'm just kind of curious. I know all those loaves aren't for your family. Do you give them to someone else?" Y/N was always curious about Luna, she was a complete mystery to her.

Luna winked, "I do give them to someone else. Anyways, I'm late so I really gotta go, see you soon, Y/N!" She gave one last wave before leaving through the large wooden door.

~ ~ ~

Y/N stood over a small stone marking. Nothing within her mind. She set down some flowers, remembering an important person in her life.

"Ah, I see that you're here too." Y/N turned around, not expecting this voice.

"Father? You're not supposed to be out of the infirmary!" The girl chastised, quickly running over to the man who limped her way.

"Ah, you're no fun, Y/N. Besides, those ladies are always so stuck up and nosy. I needed to escape even for a little bit. You have to admit, this is a good reason." Y/N softened, today was her mother's official 20th year passed away. The two always made a point of visiting her mother at least once a year on this day.

Y/N supported her father to her mother's grave, his dear wife's grave. Y/N always felt so bad, her mother passed away while she was in labor with her. The doctors and nurses simply couldn't do anything for her. She only hung on long enough to make sure that her baby was alive and sat before she tragically drew her last breath. A tear flooded into Y/N's eye, it was her fault that such a lovely woman passed away.

"Come on, Y/N. I know exactly what you're thinking right now. The last thing your mother would want you to do is believe that it was all your fault, that you were a mistake. It was a risk that your mother was willing to take, you have no idea how much she loved and cared for you when you were in her belly. Want to know something that she told me, right after she was told that she could either save herself or her baby?" Y/N was silent, tears slowly streaming down her face. She solemnly stared at the tiny stone, the only marking remembering her beautiful mother.

"Yes."

"She told me that you were her greatest accomplishment in life. You were the masterpiece in her life, the only regret your mother had was not being able to see you grow up into the fine woman you have become. You bet your persistent mom is surely watching you from above, smiling and guiding you, just in another form."

Y/N, not able to form a word, simply wrapped her arms around her father. She didn't deserve such amazing parents, even if one wasn't there for her life. She knew her mother was always looking over her.

"Let's get out of here, hm? Mom must be happy that we visited her, but she would be even happier if the two of us stayed safe and happy, right?"

Y/N smiled up at her father's sweet look, "Of course, father. I'll take you back to the infirmary."

Y/N's father grumbled sassily, saying something about those rotten nurses, which Y/N's quickly laughed at.

"They're there to help you, father. Not make your life miserable."

"Says the one who doesn't have to deal with those nagging ladies all day."

(Hmm, why are my eyes sweating?)

~~~

"Breakfast really is the best meal of the day." A male sighed, eating his usual. One hard-boiled egg, a glass of orange juice, and two slices of bread with strawberry jam. He gave a satisfied look to the two ladies in the corner of the room.

"You know, the bread has been amazing lately. Was there a change in the royal baker?" The Prince asked, the two ladies shifted uncomfortably, looking at one another for help. The prince shot a look at the two, weirded out by their odd behavior.

"Yoona, I would also like to know about the baker." The King said, voicing out his son's thoughts.

"U-Uh, well, I don't know the baker personally, may I go figure out for you, your majesty?" Yoona curtseyed to the King quickly rushing out of the room, leaving behind the other maid.

Yoona busted into the kitchen, panic written all over her form.

"WE HAVE A PROBLEM." Yoona screamed, bringing the whole cooking staff to a halt, alarmed by Yoona's exclamation.

"What's wrong, Yoona?" A cute looking girl walked over to the older girl, waiting for her response.

"Who's that baker you always buy from?"

Luna's eyebrows shot up, not expecting this, "From a father, now his daughter, that sell bread in the middle of my village. Her bread is the best, right? I bet the royals love it!" Luna gave Yoona a thumbs up, clearly excited. Yoona, on the other hand was a lot less impressed.

"Yeah, they love it. A little too much I dare say. They want to know who the royal baker is!" Yoona exclaimed once again, leaving everyone a little more nervous than before.

"Huh, yeah we don't have one of those." Luna said, rubbing her chin with her fingers. Yoona desperately wanted to slap her forehead at the girl's innocence.

"Yeah, no duh. What do we do?" Yoona hissed. Another cook came forward, being the head of the staff.

"Well, we have two options. We either tell the truth that we have just been buying from a village baker for a little while, or we fake it till we make it."

"So, it's either that we piss them off now, or we piss them off later..."

Yoona, Luna, and the head cook all looked at one another, making a clear decision. Luna sighed, "Huhh, fine. I'll come clean..."

~~~

It was now later in the day and Luna was nervously twiddling her fingers behind her back. She looked down at her maid's uniform, waiting for her demise.

"Luna, I don't remember you being a baker?" The Queen remarked, hearing that Luna came to announce the arrival of the royal baker.

Luna hummed, ready to make the big reveal, "Well, your Majesties, there is actually not currently  a royal baker." Silence effectively ensued. The King and Queen that were both sitting on their thrones were utterly confused.

"And how could that be, Luna? Who supplies that bakery items then?" The King said gently. Luna sighed.

"I've been buying from a small baker from my home village. It's the Heights District your majesties."

"Why didn't you just hire that baker, Luna? It's much easier than buying from this baker every day?"

The king and queen were taking this a lot better than Luna expected. She didn't want to even think about trying to persuade Y/N from leaving her father's bakery for the royal's kitchen. That task is virtually impossible, and that was Luna's specialty.

"Ah, well the bakers consist of only a father, who is currently in the hospital with a leg injury, and a daughter who has taken over. So-"

"How lovely! We can pay a lot more for her services here I bet. Miss Luna, please convince this amazing baker to come work for us!" The queen gleamed, Luna deadpanned inwardly. The queen was always... a bit of a ditz.

"She will be a bit hard to convince, though, you're majesties."

"Hmm, then bring my son. He is a very good persuader as you know. Now, run along. Hopefully I have good news by tomorrow." The king gave her a look, basically saying that this decision was final. Luna bit her bottom lip, but nodded nonetheless, waltzing out of the room.

She ran down the hallways, out to the expansive pastures behind the royal's castle.

"Your Highness!" Luna yelled, flailing her arms around like a mad man.

The prince, who was on horseback with his companion, quickly trotted over to the small girl, slightly frightening her.

"Is something wrong, Luna?" The prince questioned the girl who seemed like a little ant compared to him on horseback.

"Your parents ordered for me to take to you to my village to hire a baker."

The princes eyebrows raised, why was this his job to complete with a maid?

"It's a hopeless task for me. Your parents said to bring you along to maybe make the baker a part of the royal staff."

The prince sighed, the baker did bake some hella good bread. While he had a lot of questions, he shoved them down for now, trotting back over to his partner from before.

"Princess Mina, I have to depart early today. Sorry for the sudden interruption."

"But Prince-"

"Sorry." He said louder, stopping the princess who yaps like a chihuahua before she could even start. How could his parents even make him attempt to love this... desperate creature.

He quickly departed with Luna as soon as he could.

~~~

"Would you like to take the carriage your-"

"Let's walk, Luna. And besides, how many times do I have to tell you to address me by my name when we are in private?" The prince questioned with a playful smirk as the two finally set out on foot.

"But-"

"Luna." The prince growled.

"Fine... Jeno..."

The crowned prince, Jeno, gave her a fluffy smile, ruffling his hand through her hair. The two were close from a young age, but they also had to hide their close friendship from a young age as well. Once upon a time, Jeno had a large crush on the girl, but she viciously rejected it, saying that she only saw him as an older brother. While he thought he could win her over, he quickly gave in to her wishes as she was quite the stubborn girl.

"So, tell me about this baker, Luna."

Luna smirked, knowing how Jeno would react when he met the girl.

"Mmm, I'm not going to tell you." She said, causing Jeno to give her a deadly glare.

"You know who you're talking to, right?"

Luna shrugged, giving the boy an innocent look, "I thought you said we were friends when we were in private?"

Jeno quietly huffed, looking away, "Fair enough."

The two talked for their decently long journey, about this or that, about their childhood, anything.

"Man, you walk a long journey every day... Why don't you just live in the headquarters?" Jeno asked as they entered Luna's village.

"Ever heard of having a family?" She said, sarcasm dripping from her tone. Jeno rolled his eyes, "Hmm, okay then."

Luna saw Y/N's bakery sign up ahead, it's go time.

"Alright, we are here, Prince."

"I thought I told you-"

Luna ignored him, swinging the bakery's door open, the smell of bread smacking the prince in the face.

"Hello, Y/N! Are you here?" Luna called out as Jeno stepped into the small, but cozy shop behind the girl. He looked around, kind of confused why Luna called out a girl's name. He thought that the baker was supposed to be an older man, according to Luna at least.

"Ah, hello, Luna! You're never here around this time!" A beautiful voice called out, a youthful girl came out of nowhere, surprising Jeno.

Wow...

She's absolutely gorgeous...

Jeno's jaw dropped as he saw the girl fiddle around quickly with some equipment, taking pastries and bread out of a stone oven. Luna smirked, she knew this would happen. Y/N wasn't the village sweetheart for nothing.

Y/N finally turned around, swipping her hands over her floury apron. Her eyes widened when she saw the male standing next to Luna.

"You never told me that you had a boyfriend!" Y/N said joyfully, going on about how Luna was such a mystery. Jeno was so taken aback by her sheer beauty that he couldn't even say anything at the moment.

"Nice to meet you! I'm Y/N, the daughter of the baker who owns this place. He's currently unable to work, so I've been handling the place." Y/N offered her hand for a handshake, completely oblivious as to who Jeno was.

Luna paled as Jeno simply looked down at the baker's outstretched hand.

"A-Ah! No, Y/N!" Luna yanked the confused girl's hand away, giving a nervous glance toward Jeno.

"Well, we have come to explain something to you."

Y/N tilted her head, but complied.

"I just pulled out a batch of pastries, so why don't you two sit down for a little?"

Y/N brought the two to a small  wooden table among the few that they had there. There really wasn't enough space...

Jeno gave Luna a glare immediately after Y/N left.

"You didn't plan on telling me that the baker was a girl my age?" He hissed, keeping his eyes on Y/N to make sure that she wasn't close.

Luna smirked, sipping on the water that Y/N provided to the both of them, "What's the big deal? I thought you were courting Princess Mina right now?" Luna smiled, knowing she was getting on the boys nerves. He was about to retort when some pastries were set in front of the two.

The both looked up to see Y/N standing, staring at the two, probably waiting from them to start.

"Aren't you going to sit with us, Y/N?" Luna said, her features scrunching up.

"No, you two are my honorary customers, so I couldn't possibly sit with you."

Jeno's eyes widened, Luna nor Jeno brought money with them. He heard Y/N chuckle.

"You two aren't paying today, it's on me."

Jeno's heart melted, everything about her...

"Ahem." Luna interjected between Jeno and Y/N's little staring contest.

"So, first of all, bring a darn seat to sit in, Y/N." Luna said with full authority. Y/N sighed, giving in.

"I've noticed that you have been wondering what I do, right Y/N?"

Y/N nodded, full of enthusiasm.

"I work for the royal palace."

Y/N's eyes widened, "Wow, that's so cool, Luna!"

"But, I've been kind of feeding your bread and pastries to the royal family... without telling them it was yours.”

Y/N nodded, a frown forming on her lips, "Did they think it was good?" Luna gasped, thinking that Y/N was going to be furious after hearing the news. But she took it in the most ideal way possible.

Jeno was surprised by her lack of enthusiasm after hearing the news, it's not every day that someone in their kingdom had the honor of having their items or goods used by the royals. There were lines ready to get the royal's approval to gain attraction to their businesses.

Luna nodded, "Y-Yeah, so much in fact that the cooking staff had a panic attack because you are sorta technically the royal baker at this moment..."

Y/N's eyes widened, "You guys don't have a royal baker? How unfortunate... I'd be willing to continue to send my products to their highnesses." Y/N then smiled, directing her smile to Jeno.

Jeno blushed, he'd much rather she become his future wife instead...

"Hmm, the thing is that the king and queen personally requested that you become the royal baker, though..." Luna said, tentatively. Y/N was silent for a moment, Jeno nervously awaited her answer.

"It's an honor, but I'm going to have to politely decline.

~~~

Jeno sighed as he sat down for breakfast the very next morning. He saw that very same loaf of bread from the pretty baker in Luna's village.

Y/N.

Everything about her made Jeno's mind go crazy. She was polite, hard-working, kind, slightly quirky, and had a sweet personality. He so desperately wanted to get to know her, but that would be difficult as she was too difficult to sway when it came down to the decision. He wanted her here, but he also understood why she wanted to stay at her bakery.

Jeno sighed once again, chomping down on the bread freshly made this morning, oh how much he would rather see her face than the product from her hands.

"Son, is something bothering you?"

Jeno looked up to his father giving him a stern look, he straightened up from his slumped position by his food. He gave his father a look, "I'm fine, your highness."

"You look unwell, dear." His mother cooed, concerned for his well being. He was being so difficult just at the thought of the girl.

"You have an engagement with Princess Yeeun today, Son. You better freshen up so that she doesn't see you in your miserable state."

Jeno huffed, while he was fine with Yeeun, he really didn't see her as someone he would spend the rest of his life with. He hated the tradition of engagements and decided who would be best to continue the royal lineage. There were so many girls that wanted to marry him, but just did not take a liking to any of them.

Later in the day, after his 'date' with Yeeun, Jeno walked out into the rose garden, looking around at the blooming flowers. Y/N reminded him of these flowers, maybe if he ever saw her again he could escort her through the gardens one day.

"Prince."

Jeno looked up from his place in the garden, watching a smirking Luna walking his direction.

"What is it, Luna?" He said as she neared him.

"Thinking about a certain someone?" She said, poking some fun at him. He choked, not quite understanding what she could be on about.

"Luna, the only people I think about are my parents and my horse."

Luna rolled her eyes, looking down at the flower that Jeno was cupping in his hand. A gentle smile rose to her thin lips, "First of all, a horse is not a human. Secondly, I saw the way you oogled at Y/N, Jeno. You can't fool me."

"And so what, I'm never going to have her, so why even think about it?"

Luna sighed as she saw Jeno's face gradually go sour. A thought popped up in her mind.

"Why don't you invite her to the King's birthday party?"

Jeno shot his head up, eyes wide. He looked down at his petite friend.

"A-Ah well, I'm going to have to deal with all of my potential suitors, though..."

"So what? I know you could give her a dance. Besides, I'll take her for the rest of the night. You can mingle with all you're girls you want, but her presence will show you how dumb you are."

"How dumb I am?" He barked, causing Luna to chuckle, "Yeah, how dumb you are for not trying to get her. I know your parents are strict, but why not try to court her? At least get to know her. Your dumb face showed me that you fell in love with her immediately after she opened her mouth."

Jeno blushed, why could Luna always read him like a damn book. He thought he was so sly about it.

"I don't know, Luna."

"Well, I'll invite her then."

Jeno gave her a look, "You little snot..."

"All in your best interest, Prince. Besides, every single guy in town wants to court her, and she's coming to an age where her father is starting to ask her about marriage. I'd stomp out your competition before someone does actually whisk her feet off the ground. Just a fruit for thought, though. See you later, Jeno."

Luna turned around, waving to him lazily before departing. Jeno looked down, Luna always had these crazy ideas in her head, but maybe this time it would actually work out? Or it could cause a war between the neighboring kingdoms...

Just a fruit for thought, huh?

_____________________________________

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Hunnyuwu

^Jeno is a prince and no one can tell me otherwise:)

[gayoperatorgunclub]

ULTIMATE SHIP MEME: MontaDoc Edition? Pretty please? Or any MontaDoc content. I crave it. Much 💕

of course!!!!!!! sorry this has taken so long, but i sincerely hope you enjoy it!!! 💝💝💝

General:

Rate the Ship -   Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? - for fucking EVER!!!!!! 

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - two words: mutual. pining. this period, often referred to as the “Beginning of Operation: T.E.A.M. D.A.D.S. (Temporary Employment As Masters of Dad And Dad Sweethearts)” however, unbeknownst to anybody else in rainbow, by the time Operation: T.E.A.M. D.A.D.S. had begun, gustave and gilles had already been together for a couple of years. how did they actually get together? about six months after the GIGN joined rainbow, gustave was in the middle of a mountain of paperwork when he heard someone clear their throat. he spun around to scold whoever it was for coming to medbay when they were sick (despite the fact that he was coming down with a nasty cold), only to be greeted with gilles leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe. “gustave. you look as though you’re about to meet death for dinner. how can you expect to take care of others when you’re not taking care of yourself?” gustave just sighed and shook his head, muttering something about leaving him be for another couple hours so he could finish his paperwork, but gilles has other ideas. in mere moments, gustave goes from standing over his desk, organizing some files, to being held in gilles’ big strong arms. “wh- gilles! i-” he was cut off by his own yawn, and gilles smiled at him fondly. gustave felt himself blush, and he squirmed a little, but let gilles carry him to the GIGN quarters. as soon as it seemed like gilles was going to leave, gustave pulled him down for a kiss, then pushed their foreheads together and whispered “you’re going to carry me all this way and not even stay to make sure i don’t go back to my office?” gilles just grinned at him, climbing into bed beside him and wrapping his arms around him. 

How was their first kiss? - ROMANTIQUE! and smelling of sickness but what can you do

Wedding:

Who proposed? - monty!! he decided to cook a romantic candlelit dinner at their apartment, and when he sees gustave come home from work, all ragged and exhausted, yet still with a glimmer of determination and subtle joy, he says the first thing that comes to mind: “will you marry me?” gustave froze, his cheeks still rosy and his hair sprinkled with snowflakes. “will i what?” gilles realized his mistake and flushed, stammering a response before gustave was standing in front of him, staring at him scrutinizingly. “gilles.” he started, reaching to intertwine their hands, bring them between their chests, “what did you say?” gilles gulped, then steeled himself and got down on one knee. “gustave kateb. love of my life, light of my days. the man i want to wake up next to every day for the rest of my life. the man who i adore with every fiber of my being. would you do me the honor of being my husband?” 

Who is the best man/men? - for monty: bandit! for doc: lion (everyone but them thought it was a joke until the day of the wedding). dominic and olivier’s dual best man speech is the stuff of legends. there were tears, there was laughter, and there was an almost excessive amount of thinly-veiled sexual innuendos at various people in attendance (including both grooms; the best men were both drunk of their asses) 

Who is the bride’s maid(s)? - they actually fight over who gets to pick twitch! meanwhile rook is in the background like D: (don’t worry, it’s decided that he and twitch will be ring bearer and flower girl respectively) for monty: dokkaebi. for doc: finka 

Who did the most planning? - they both did! though gustave focused on food and flowers, and gilles focused on the guest list and the venue (but they ran things by each other before any final decisions were made)

Who stressed the most? - gilles! he was so worried about their families not getting along that he actually prepared a “leave my husband and his family alone or so help me i will never speak to you again” speech

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - gilles’ racist, homophobic, french nationalist uncle (no one in the family likes him, so it wasn’t a big loss) (this uncle also made a surprise appearance at the family dinner where gilles introduced gustave to the rest of his family, and started yelling about “godamn immigrants” and other such bigotted statements, before gilles’ sister physically dragged him out of the house and threw him out the door. afterwards, up in the guest bedroom, gilles quietly tells gustave that it’s okay if he wants to leave, or break up, or anything, and gustave just laughs and tells him that if he wasn’t prepared for family members to express their distaste, he wouldn’t be dating a white man. he pressed a kiss to gilles’ temple, before whispering “although, he was right about my being an immigrant; it’s just that i was born in Paris and immigrated with my family to algeria, not the other way around. A for effort, though”)

Sex:

Who is on top? - gilles!!!! although gustave will occassionally ride him 👀👀👀

Who is the one to instigate things? - gustave is lowkey horny 24/7, but if gilles walks in on him bending over to get something from a cabinet, or tilting his head all the way back while drinking from his water bottle, thereby showcasing the way his throat moves as he swallows, he will lose his shit 

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - okay i’m gonna change this one to an explanation of some things from below. i personally think doc lowkey a freak, and gilles is happy to oblige him if that’s what his lapin wants (although he’s not entirely sure how he feels about this “overstimulation” and “post-orgasm torture” and “cock & ball torture” stuff. specifically, he’s not sure he likes hurting gustave, but, while he probably won’t admit it out loud, he secretly adores making gustave cry. when he’s so helpless and powerless and mindless, and he’s begging for something, but for what he doesn’t really know. maybe it’s the knowledge that gilles is in complete control, that gustave trusts him to do this, to make him hurt and cry and just melt, the knowlege that gustave is completely reliant on him for his pleasure, his pain, and everything in between. it’s a heady thing, and gilles isn’t sure how he feels about it, but he’s pretty sure the warmth in his chest and the warmth in his gut are good signs 

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - unless they’re doing some of the things mentioned above, or mayhaps some denial 👀👀👀 then yeah, everyone gets the same. they’re very considerate when they’re just doing vanilla 

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children: btw, the rest of this is kinda set in a post-retirement au (idrk i just want them to have a farm and be peaceful). give it whatever context u want tho, i was just havin fun

How many children will they have? - they will have four cats and a dog, as well as 2 horses, a donkey, 5 cows, an alpaca, a rabbit, some ducks, a flock of sheep and goats, and the occasional visit from a herd of deer from the forest surrounding their little farm

How many children will they adopt? - since humans CANNOT, i repeat, CANNOT, give birth to the animals listed above, they’re all adopted

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - no one. the animals potty train themselves

Who is the stricter parent? - gilles sneaks them treats while gustave lectures them about dietary habits, so take your pick 

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - whenever gilles leaves to run errands, one of the goats goes into a depression so deep and miserable that they’re utterly inconsolable until he comes back. once they hear the sound of the car in the driveway, this lil goat, lovingly named “Bastard” by gustave, will climb onto the roof of the house and scream his joy over gilles’ return to the heavens 

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - they tag team on things like feeding the animals and cleaning out the barn, but gustave is much more organized about it

Who is the more loved parent? - the cats, dog, one of the horses, donkey, alpaca, rabbit, goats (except for Bastard), and deer all prefer gustave, though gilles is adequate in the event that gustave is busy with something else (although the alpaca and donkey hate his guts, and will escape their pastures to break into the house and be near gustave. gilles maintains that they’re both devil-spawn, but gustave says he’s just being dramatic and that Thamin (alpaca) and Albalatin (donkey) are complete angels who could do no wrong)

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - animals have NOT unionized. yet. 

Who cried the most at graduation? - idk if this counts, but when Bastard finally figured out how to get himself down from the roof after getting himself onto it, gilles cried for an hour

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - gilles lowkey does whenever thamin and albalatin escape to go out into the world and commit crimes, but only to make sure his husband doesn’t get upset when he finds out his precious creatures are hell beasts. certainly not out of anything resembling tolerance or *shudder* like 

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - gustave, but gilles can make a mean bowl of cereal

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - gustave. gilles will eat something straight from the garden and gustave is like “DID YOU CHECK IF IT WAS RIPE?????? YOU COULD DIE FROM THAT YOU KNOW, THEN WHERE WOULD I BE???” 

Who does the grocery shopping? - gustave. gilles is something of a hermit in their town, and people often remark about the “sweet, kind doctor and his utter brick wall of a husband” 

How often do they bake desserts? - whenever Bastard goes a day without doing something Bastardous 

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - both lowkey prefer salad, since they care for many animals that would often get used for their meat, and they can’t bear to think about hurting any of their babies

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - gilles. the people in town helped him when he burst into the little grocery store all panicked like “I NEED TO MAKE MY HUSBAND A SURPRISE DINNER BUT I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO MAKE” 

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - gustave. gilles like being at home, but city-boy over here thinks that restaurants are a weekly luxury

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - neither. it was thamin and albalatin, attempting to frame gilles for yet another felony

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - gustave. everything is color coded. sex toys included 

Who is really against chores? - gilles. gustave films him whenever he actually does clean and yells things like “go white boy go!!” and sends them to twitch for her T.E.A.M. D.A.D.S. scrapbook 

Who cleans up after the pets? - they both do, but gilles gets stuck with shit duty more often than not

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - gilles, once. gustave walked in, sniffed the air, then glared at him until he actually swept whatever it was up and threw it away 

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - gustave “we can’t have guests over, the house is a mess” kateb

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Bastard. he then proceeded to eat it

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - gustave and his hour-long skincare routine 

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - gustave, bc sadiqi the dog (not to be confused with sadiqi the kitten), or Big Sadiqi (kitten sadiqi is Little Sadiqi) is his, gilles, and he will not allow his precious boy to be influenced by such creatures as Bastard 

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - they get little sweaters for the animals. that is all

What are their goals for the relationship? - joke: gustave always says “the White Man’s money” despite the fact that his family is richer than gilles’. woke: mutual happiness, comfort, and healing 

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - gustave. after 11 am, thamin and albalatin decide they’ve had enough and break in to lay down on the bed next to him. gilles banishes himself to the couch for a week

Who plays the most pranks? - Bastard, thamin, and albalatin. although gustave did dye the sheep’s wool (while it was still attached to them) different colors and patterns and, for the ones who were perfectly content to sit still and be held, replicas of famous paintings (his favorite artist is monet, in case you forgot that he’s french)

[ziracona]

so can u tell us a little about ur characterization of Lisa?? What's she like inside and outside of trials? Does she have a lot of lucidity, what were her relationships with others like, would she ever get better, do you think? ( im SAD.) Just. What's she like!! Also, same for Sally? Oh! And I'm rly enjoying two songs by Meg Myers which maybe you'll like? Running up that hill (Cover) and Desire. Maybe check em out? :3 - Sleepy

Sure!

My Lisa is from a bit before the archives for her placed her (early 1970s), because I wrote ILM back when there was no date given for many killers or survivors, so I just hoped they were historically accurate with the things they did mention & went through a fairly exhaustive list of drained swamps in the Southern US & paddleboat makes & placed her according to that data (it’s been a bit so I don’t remember the exact date without looking up my notes) in the 1920s-1930s, I believe? And in her early 20s, since she’s described as a girl & young woman, which DbD usually does only for characters in their early 20s. (Which I’d still assume is her age, bc even though her archives, if you go by them, have her in her teens, they’re not connected to the events of her disappearance/definitely happened before them.)

In trials, Lisa has like 0 lucidity. I talk about this some in chapter notes, so I’ll try to give a quick overview instead but sry if I restart myself. She’s so starved that any time she sees a living being, she is just completely overcome with hunger and can’t do anything but operate on it. Very scary. Feral. Like being attacked by a starving animal. She’s super out of it, and is completely wild and violent and has no control, only the need to eat. Outside of trials, if no one is around, she’s lucid again, but will remember trials and what she did to people, and spends that time in horror and despair. She’s tried to kill herself before, because the last thing she ever wanted was to become the thing she swore vengeance on (the Entity’s a real cruel motherfucker. Did the same to Rin, to Philip, to everyone it could. Likes to really twist decent people into what they would most despair to be), but in the realm, she’s stuck as it. She’s not really aware for trials, but remembers them with decent clarity, and is in constant agony over what she’s done. Unfortunately, suicide does not take in the realm, and every one of her attempts failed, just like her attempts to maim or tie herself up so she wouldn’t be able to hurt people did. She’s horribly alone and despairing, and also in physical agony. She’s at the worst end of what a human can be at as far as emaciation and starvation while still being alive goes, and that’s physically awful. It fucks up your brain chemistry too, and everything is just really fucking miserable all the time. It hurts to move, it hurts to breathe, your breath smells tastes like rotten fruit but in a way that’s so much worth than that can sound. She’s so hungry, her addons are things like dragonfly wings consumed to give her extra stamina. That’s the kind of bare sliver of relief she ever gets. God, poor Lisa’s life is hell. She’s completely heartbroken and isolated and almost dead. As far as relationships go, she didn’t have any for a long time. No one can really interact with her, because she goes feral at the sight of food. She’s kinda utterly alone. But briefly, when Alex, Philip, Vigo, Benedict, and Sally were a group, she kind of got stumbled into, and after a kind of nasty first encounter, was able to regain lucidity around other people, and had a truly sweet and memorable and invaluable bit of time with love and friends and other people. She was kind of in love with Sally, who did her hair for her and was really kind to her, and Sally liked her too. They were close. Lisa was close with all of them. But when things ended the way they did, the Entity took that away. Lisa remembers it, but she could never get them or it back, and was cast aside and left behind until the end of ILM, when she finally got peace and found happiness in finally getting to be at rest in the arms of a friend. Overal, she’s a fairly young and wide-eyed, bright, cautious, fun and sweet girl by nature, now massively traumatized and hopeless and broken, but still with a truly incredible amount of that kind nature retained. She would have really loved reading fantasy novels aloud and exploring the worlds of lore and history, travelling, seeing other cultures and geographic features and animals. Enjoys fashion too, and has a heart for designing and making cool, personal and cultural and symbolic tied designs, and would have been both great at that and loved it if she’d lived long enough. (Shoutout to @artianaiolanthe who inspired the fashion take & it is so suited to her I love it). A little shy, but an extrovert at heart under it, just a nervous one. Loved people. Liked climbing trees and fording brooks and baking bread and throwing rocks and baseballs to knock a target out of a tree and win a prize at little town fairs. Didn’t get the length or quality of life she was owed, and it’s just not fair or okay at all. Liked to watch the stars.

As far as getting better goes, mentally, totally. If they could get her out of the realm or break the Entity’s connection, she’d immediately stop killing. She has never done it of her own free will. She’s a sweet small town kid who was just trying to live her life. As far as physically goes though, Lisa is in one of the worst possible spots. Unlike say Amanda, who was on death’s door but healed by the Entity, or the Legion, who weren’t injured at all, Lisa was on death’s door and like Adiris, did not get healed. Just preserved in that near-death state and forced to work in it. Honestly, it’s possible she could survive long enough to get to a hospital and be saved, but at best, she’d probably live another year. When you starve, your body begins to catabolize/eat your own tissue to save itself, starting with fat, and ending with muscles and organs, which, when it reaches the heart, kills you. Lisa was so close to dead, the organ damage was probably awful, and would leave her with complications that would take her very young. The most likely thing, since she was saved literally seconds before death, would be for her to step outside the realm and immediately die. However, it’s possible she got lucky on body damage and could be saved—kinda up to interpretation—and if say, she was around for Quentin’s Vigil going healing batshit, and got some organs repaired that way, she’d have a real shot. (I also am sad. Lisa was actually the only determinate character in ILM to me/that I wasn’t sure the ending for, and while I am very happy with what ended up being her closure, I also would like to see her live for even more love and peace TuT. Lol, if I ever end up doing my goddamn four fate route fics like I’ve joked now a truly dangerous number of times about doing [>.> me @ me] then maybe she will get a variety of lives in the end). I’m glad you wanted to know! I really like and pity her. This poor kid really did nothing wrong, much like Rin, and just got eternally tortured for asking for help and justice against the monsters who took her life so violently. Fuck Brittany. (Read: the Entity.)

Ahhhh Sally. My sweet, sweet girl. Uhhh, not sure which of the Lisa questions you meant for her too, so I’ll try to speed-answer them all? Sally’s intelligent and understanding and thoughtful, patient, polite, almost elegant despite how impoverished she spent most of her life—she just tries to act like a lady and treat people with as much respect and esteem as she can (unless they suck lol). She’s also very mentally damaged and not there though, and has extremely unstable mood swings, especially into despair. Her relationships with the other killers were limited. She talked to & was on polite terms with any who would talk to her and not be condescending or a dick so openly she’d pick up on it (so like, on cordial terms with Evan, Herman, Caleb if she’d been there that long, but not like, Kenneth or Freddy or someone who wouldn’t bother to put up an act). But mostly, after figuring out she wasn’t really of any use to them, they quit communicating with her. Sally has been extremely isolated since shortly after being taken. She believes that the survivors are innocent and suffering and knows that they don’t deserve the hunt, but has no way to stop the whole system, and has been convinced by the Entity that if she does a good job and earns moris, the ones she strangles to death get to stay dead instead of coming back after death to suffer endlessly again, so she works very dedicatedly and slowly trying to earn kills to save them. It took her physical eyes when it got her and lets her see through it’s powers, and uses that to randomize what survivors look like in her memory so she doesn’t catch wise it’s the same people over and over and she’s not saving them at all. It’s extremely tragic. God it’s one of the most cruel Entity tricks, which is saying a lot. Poor gentle woman is Sisyphus pushing a boulder up a hill day after day year after year and she doesn’t even know how hopeless and meaningless it all is. : (

When the Vigo-Philip-Alex-Benedict team was going, though, she met and attacked, then was convinced to instead befriend them, and quickly became very attached and well liked by them. Met Lisa while with the group, and became extremely fond of her and loving towards her and was truly, truly happy for a brief period of time. Still remembers her, even as lost as all her memories are. Not her name, but what she looked like to Sally, and how her hair felt, and how nice it was. Sally would have considered everyone in that group a dear friend, and in ILM, Philip most definitely becomes her deepest, closest, and best friend, just like she does to him. She’s a very faithful woman to her soul. Loved her family, loved her husband and mourned him, worked as hard as she could. Cared for her patients, and did her best in that hell until the Entity slowly whittled away at her sanity until it broke her mind and left her convinced the only way to end their pain would be to give them death, and she had to do it to save them. Sally loves little pretty things and neatness and collections. Flowers, bows and ribbons, china and colored glass. She would have treasured gifts like decorative holiday cards and carved animal figures and left them on her mantle or carefully tucked in lovingly organized and decorated books she could open to revisit the memory. Likes dresses and skirts and the way the wind feels. Hopeful and very enduring. Loving. Had a mom heart, and will never really get entirely over the loss of her children, but is strong and kind and will find new love that makes life still worth living in other people. Will remember both kindness and cruelty a long, long time. Loved Quentin from the second he gave her flowers (Dwight: Quentin, why did the entity let you have three moms? Quentin: Because I fucking earned it >:[“ [author’s note: he did. God that poor kid...]). Loved Kate from the day she sat with her in a hospital and held her hand. Is like that. Remembers small kindness and treasures them.

Sally could definitely recover. Not all the way probably, physically or mentally, but by far enough to be complete and happy and realized and who she wants. She never meant to hurt people, so she really just needs some stability, and I think she finds that with her new family. I mean, it is a lot to adjust to. It’s been like nearly 100 years. The Entiry broke her mind, and she’s got some damage that just probably can’t ever be fixed, but a lot can be, with drugs and treatments and therapy and kindness and a good support system, and honestly, the biggest things she needs are people to keep her memories together and herself present, and influences to protect her from being manipulated and controlled now that she’s so suggestible and easy to hurt, and she’s got that. I am 100% certain that while some things—the scatteredness, the ease of slipping into other moods especially deep sadness, the different way of thinking altogether—never leave her, she gets better in the most important ways and is truly happy and quite functional and what she wants to be. While there’s no way (yet anyway lol. Cybernetics that good when?) to give her new eyes since the Entity ripped hers out, and she’s blind now, and can’t be changed, her seeing eye dog does a great job for her, and she’s very happy and adjusts well. She has a lot of friends to be her eyes, and learns to lean into what she can do and has a quite fulfilling and blissful life outside the realm in ILM.

Also: thanks for the recs! I’m going on a run soon, and I’ll add those to my iPod and give ‘em a listen if I can. Hope this answered what you wanted to know! ^u^

[prorevenge]

Abusive boss "acidentally" picks on his own boss and pays the ultimate price.

As I sit in a bar, enjoying my coffee, a story pops into my mind from 10 years ago of how I put a jerk down to the ground for venting his frustrations over to his subbordinates.

Let us begin with the back story, which is quite long, but necessary for you to get a feeling of what was going on at the time. It was just months before the financial crisis and I was working for the tech department in a very large company. It was quite a large department in which we handled electronics.

That department stood out from most of the company, as it was receiving a bit of a different treatment. The company thought if they create an extremely pleasant working environment there, they could get away with paying those stationed there with considerably lesser wages than they could be eligible for.

And it was also a "meritocracy". Your rank and station was based on what you were capable of, not how long were you in the company. I say that because just after two years, I was running the whole department! The reason for that was that because aside from being a computer technician, i also had skills in electrotechnics, electronics, programming and online advertising, which the company realized and put me in charge of the whole bunch. However before you question the validity of this story, you should know that while I had the rank, I made only marginally more money than the rest of the department, the only plus was the rank, and that I had half the working hours of the rest of the department. My only job was to make sure that everybody was at their best while doing their job and paperwork, along with comms and coordinating with the rest of the company.

I felt it was important that you knew the entire story because now I want to introduce you to Dick (fake name). Dick was a hard worker, but a sick, evil, miserable bastard who was at the company for over 6 years but couldn't get any higher up the ladder other than shift supervisor for the machinery boys because all he knew how to do. He was 2 ranks below me. Dick was an utter Dick. He constantly picked on his subbordinates, berating them, yelling at them, picking on the "coffee boy" (it was the rookie, bringing coffee was an initation ritual), essentially Dick being in charge of you was a very unpleasant experience.

At the time I didn't know this was going on, Dick was not in the group I ascended over and I dealt with that group over his superior. I didn't know was going on because I had my hands full with running the whole thing from an office halfway across the company building (big building).

Before we continue, you should know that my country has a law against workplace abuse called "bossing", in which, if there has been emotional harm inflicted, the person who performed bossing could even face jail time, and the company in question could pay massive fines.

To continue, suddenly I reveived an email from my superior, telling me there was an incident regarding Dick and that I have been scheduled for disciplinary action. Apparently there was a coffee girl in his group which he utterly destroyed to the point where she had a nervous breakdown, and as a department administrator I received huge flak for "not sustaining a pleasant working environment", which was department policy so that people wouldn't complain so much about the subpar pay they are getting.

Dick got me in so much trouble that I had to spend a week of constant damage control with my own superior. In the end, I was ordered to take appropriate action against Dick to prove that I was still "the man for the job".

Dick got me in a lot of trouble. Dick was going to pay. There was just one problem- there was no evidence against Dick. So I was going to have to be sneaky. I send a message to Dicks superior, notifying him that that they will be getting a replacement coffee boy from another group tomorrow... ME! I was going undercover to stick it to dick.

There is a saying: you see a guy in a suit and tie and you think he's successful, until you realize he's working for a man in jeans and and polo shirt. This hold true as dick is a suit and tie guy while I wear jeans and a polo shirt to work.

Its the day of revenge. I take no special preparations other than a hidden recording device, and I even wear the aforementioned outfit. I arrive at work and ask two security guards to go with me to wait just outside Dick's work area. I purposely wait until I am 5 minutes late, then enter the work area with Dick's people, greet everyone and go straight for the coffee pot. Dick notices my tardiness and starts ranting:

DICK: Coffee boy! What the hell do you think you're doing? Come late on your first day? Get your ass moving and serve everybody!

ME: Yes sir!

I serve coffee to everybody, but one of the techs recognizes me. I pour some coffee in his pot and tell him to say nothing because I am recording Dick. At that time Dick was across the room, insulting another employee for misplacing his tools.

After I finish serving coffee I go to "my" workplace and start working. I intentionally fumble at my work, as a rookie would, in order to get Dicks attention. It works and Dick notices me and races right towards me.

DICK: What the hell do you think you're doing boy? What is this mess you made? You are completely useless! I cannot use you for anything! I should send you to mop the floors and you will even screw that up!

I turn towards Dick, put my hands at my hips and lean fowards, going in dicks face. Dick presses his second and third finger against his thumb and starts to wave it my face:

DICK: Don't you get uppity on me boy, I am your boss, I know the administrator and I can get your ass on the street in 5 minutes! Do you want to go home? ANSWER ME!

ME: I am the administrator. SECURITY!

Both guards arrive, going to into full badass mode, grabbing hold of their mace pockets with one hand and fists clenched in the other. I swear, Dick immediately dropped a couple of spoon fulls into his pants.

GUARD: Yes, mr. OP?

ME: Escort mr. Dick to my office immediately for (I lean right into his face) SEVERE disciplinary action.

GUARD: mr. Dick, come with us.

Later in my office, Dick was sat down, and listened to the audio recording of the incident, as well as I made him read out loud an extract of the labor law concerning "bossing", then I go full cold turkey on his ass:

ME: mr. Dick, you have been caught severely abusing your employees, which is not only against department policy, but is also a criminal offense, punishable by jail time in certain circumstamces. Do you have anything to say in your defense?

Sweating, shaking, stuttering: DICK: I would, I, but I, I am...

ME: It's what I thought. Let me tell you what is going to happen. I have ebought evidence to pin the breakdown of coffee girl on you, which means that I have the power to send you to jail. (Not sure if true, I was bluffing). So your disciplinary action is going to be as follows. Firstly, you are to be demoted for at least a period of two months. Your previous group was lacking a coffee boy, I think you would be perfect for the job. Secondly. You are going to love it. Thirdly, your are going to send flowers and a letter of apology to the girl you broke down. But if you: #1, try to quit within the time allotted for your punishment, and #2, so much as look as your former subbordinates in a way they wouldn't like it and #3, not do your work with utmost distinction, I will send this evidence to the authoroties and use every scrap of power I have in this company to send you to a jail so bad that when you come out of it, you will be wearing diapers for the rest of your life, HAVE I MADE MYSELF CLEAR?

Utterly pale and defeated Dick: yes, mr OP.

To add insult to injury, I inform his group of Dick's demotion. I told them that he has absolutely no authority over them anymore, and that he is going to serve them coffee until a time I see fit to rejoin them, but only as a serviceman equal in rank to the group. Dick was also forced to clean out his office in front of the group, as the coffee boy wasn't even entitled to his own cubicle, let alone a desk.

Is this nuclear revenge? I disagree. I feel that he got exactly what he deserved. He is now going to have to lick the boots those he treated so badly before. I am but no means an angel, after all, I did fail to notice the abuse that was going on umderneath me, but to fair, nobody was brave enough to stand up to Dick in fear of losing their jobs due to the crisis looming overhead.

(source) story by (/u/-BigBadBeef-)

[laytonsartblog]

Okay so I'm dumb here's a one shot

I know I said everything that's a story would be posted on AO3, but, I have dumbass energy and was inspired by the reblog I made earlier and it is 2 am on a school night so WOOO incoherency is at an ALL TIME HIGH

@infinimay whoop tagged u for what I'll call the Bus Duty AU

Perhaps I'll make this a series?? Something light, fluffy, nothing too heavy on the angst (okay I lied)

--

The Wheels on the Bus (Spin the Tales of Love)

Chapter 1., Like Patton

Virgil and Damian woke up to get to school at precisely 7:30 am, and to be ready by 8:10 for when their bus arrived, every school day.

Their mother, which is now Virgil's stepmother, always said that a tight schedule and tighter patience is what wins people over. That must be how she got Virgil's idiot dad, who took nearly three years of coy smiles and teasing touches to even start dating. They had married this year, and while Virgil is certainly happy about it, he didn't realize that it came with having to deal with a new stepbrother.

That's why, instead of 7:30 and 8:10, Virgil rises at 7:15 and is waiting by 8:00. Their mother never notices, never needing to wake up this early for work, and their dad works night shift. They were by themselves, but they handled it for nine year olds. Virgil especially figured out how to handle it as soon as he figured out that despite all this change, he was still by himself.

"Vi! Vi!" Damian, or DeeDee as he liked to be called, shouted as he approached Virgil at the bottom of the street. "Why do you never wait for me?"

Virgil shrugged. "I don't know, you give me a weird feeling, like cooties, but nice? Like wriggling worms in my head. It's sticky."

There was silence between them as they waited for their bus.

"You give me wiggly feelings too. Truce?" Damian suddenly said after what seemed to be forever to their adorable little minds, and he outstretched a hand.

Virgil took it. "Pleasure doing business, Worm boy."

Damian pouted and pulled his hand back, but didn't need to wait much longer in cute anger as the bus pulled up to their street. Seemingly forgetting the nickname, he pulled Virgil along onto the bus.

"Hey, kiddos!" their favorite, and only bus driver greeted as they sat in the front row.

Virgil never liked the bus, despite how early he was this year. It was loud and cranky and he had to sit next to DeeDee and there were always the mean kids who flicked his head as if a ping-pong ball on the way to their seats. The one thing that made it bearable was the fact he got to sit close to Patton.

Patton had allowed them to use his first name from the get go, inspiring names like "Patting!" from the kindergarteners or "Shatting" from the mean sixth graders. Virgil never tainted the name for he saw no reason to change what was already his favorite part of the morning.

Patton gave them treats on their birthday, never forgetting a single one. Patton hugged them when they were sad and showed them that crying was okay. Patton never yelled or screamed when things got too loud; he knew better than to plague these children with learned behavior, scorn, and hatred. Instead he'd play games that involved the whole bus to busy everyone, or at the very least play music and encourage them to sing along or guess the song.

Patton made things better. But Virgil knew he was sad.

Today, even with Damian's unwavering questions at everything he saw and with the fake stories he kept saying to the kid in the seat next to them, even he could tell that their bus driver was tired.

The two observant fourth graders watched as their second father didn't smile as brightly as he usually did whenever he greeted the kids getting on. He sagged; sluggish and baggy. Virgil noticed he looked a lot like his cousin Remy before a test under his eyes.

However, despite how observant, Virgil never knew how to comfort the gentle man. It's why he and Damian are in the front row. The doctors said he has a "speech impediment" where he couldn't put the words in his head to the outside world quite right. They said his brain was wrong. He knew Damian had a streak of lying and throwing tantrums. It's why he didn't like his new brother; he only served to make him look stupider.

Still, that didn't stop Virgil from putting a hand to Patton's shoulder, at least not entirely. He didn't expect for him to gasp and jump, but Virgil didn't exactly know what to expect anyway. He just pulled his hand back and looked down at his ripped pants in shame the rest of the bus ride.

--

They got there slower than Virgil had thought, but no, they were on time. Perhaps his brain was being weird again? He couldn't tell, but either way he walked begrudgingly by Damian into the school.

They passed by their school's office on the way into the gym, which is where you wait until school started. Virgil, again, ever the observant one, saw his school secretary in the window.

He was what was best described as professionally squabbled, or in Virgil's terms, cleanly messy. Mr. Nguyen had hair that was combed back just so and glasses that hid all his worries and fears. He had impeccable pressed ties that, on the occasion, got festive when a holiday came around. He had skilled hands and Virgil hadn't walked by a day where he wasn't working or presenting a board meeting or, if he wasn't doing that, wasn't there at all for the whole day.

Virgil never really disliked Mr. Nguyen. He had no reason to like him either. But right now, Virgil could see he looked exactly like Patton did; utterly miserable.

"Hey, DeeDee, y'see Mr. Nguyen? In the window?" Virgil whispered as he sat right at the entrance so he could get a good look at him.

Damian merely ignored him. "We always see him. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is," Virgil started, already frustrated with the words that wouldn't come out. "He like- he- he's Patton today."

Damian rose a brow, a suspicious trait he most likely picked up from his mother. "You mean he looks like Patton did today?"

Virgil could only nod in relief. "Yeah! He looks Patton today. Do you think the teachers look like that today?"

Damian scanned around the room. He saw nothing out of the ordinary on the teachers' face. However, he did spot a certain trashy boy that Damian all but felt puppy love for. He waved him over. "Rem! Rem!"

The boy, peeking from the corner around his preoccupied brother at his name being called, grinned a crooked and partially toothless grin and ran over to Damian. They merely embraced before Remus took out his backpack, no doubt to reveal some gross frog from his collection.

Virgil cared less and just kept staring at the office, seeing Patton and a few other drivers come in for their mandatory morning report before they head out to go back to whatever they do when not driving. Patton still looked like a walking corpse.

Virgil vowed to take that frown away.

However, the school bell had other plans.

--

Virgil thinks that time really has slowed down, and maybe it isn't his stupid brain.

Every minute of class felt not as much a blur as it usually was. Usually, class was as easy as it got, and today he even got to skip out of gym for speech classes. He liked the speech teacher, Valerie. She allowed him to say her first name like Patton did. Virgil liked Valerie too.

But even his marvel at how fantastic his day had been so far didn't distract him from the fact his bus driver was unhappy.

Virgil sat with Damian and all the other broken kids at lunch. Remus was there too, and as much as he loved Damian off his back, the two talking about frogs and the fact the French eat frog legs was already starting to get on his nerves. He just focused on his sandwich and juice box, never saying a word.

It became time to throw out the food, and Virgil knew it was gametime. He looked to everyone at the table before rushing, the other two running to throw out their styrofoam plates the fastest.

Sadly, like always, Virgil's dreams of success were barred by Remus's long, nimble legs and long, skinny arms.

Virgil wanted to pout and tell them that Remus always wins, but Mr. Glover came in to clean and one look sent the three of them scrambling to recess.

--

Today they had art time, and Virgil had never been more determined in his life.

He grabbed construction paper, glue, crayons, markers, tape, and a How-To: pop up book. They were supposed to be making Thanksgiving cards for one of the staff members, and technically he was following what he was supposed to do. It was just that Patton's name hadn't been listed on the board to write to for their fake post office.

No matter. He would make the best card ever to cheer up his favorite and only bus driver. Damian seemed more interested in watching Remus eat the glue stick and then calling for them to go to the nurse.

Virgil ignored the two's antics in favor of focusing on his masterpiece.

--

Finally, at the end of the day, with high hopes and spirits and even better hope for Patton, Virgil all but ran to the bus he remembers so clearly beyond anything else. Damian followed close behind, sitting beside him in the seat they always sat.

Virgil heard Patton greet him, as always. Virgil could still hear how tired he was. He looked as pale as Virgil did.

Virgil, without prompting, took out his card and shoved it into Patton's hands before taking his seat and covering himself up with his hoodie as far in the seat as he could go.

Patton watched the young boy sat back down in a hurry before looking down at the card. The craftsmanship, of course, could be better, but honestly Patton could hardly care. He read the "I Think Your Cool" at the top and then a hand drawing of a turkey, covered in glitter and Patton's signature blue.

Patton almost cried, and then did cry when he saw the inside.

It held handwritten words with a picture of presumably Virgil fighting away the storm clouds over Patton; the bus with muscles and also beating up the stormcloud. The words wrote "I saw your sad face. I want to fix it. See! Fixed it!"

When Patton looked up, sniffling and holding the card dear to his heart, he saw Virgil peaking out from his jacket. That little boy held the softest smile and even Damian stopped for a moment to grin, gap tooth apparent but not even a hint of malice could fill Patton at this moment.

Last night had been so awful, but maybe today hadn't been so bad. No, today had been fantastic. Virgil fixed his heart for just a moment.

Edit: the card! Made by moi

[francesderwent]

Amy Pond :)

thank you!! I haven’t had a chance to talk about her in ages

My Feelings: I absolutely adore Amy. the whole Peter Pan-esque running away to recover her childhood because she’s afraid to grow up and because she never really got to be a child, because she lost her parents and then everyone told her she was crazy…I mean, her childhood imaginary friend appears on the night before her wedding and takes her away to have adventures!  and then he takes her fiancé too, and they learn how to love each other in a new way!!  it’s a lovely, fairytale-esque story.

I Ship With: I’m ambivalent as to whether I’d say I, strictly speaking, ship her with the Doctor, but I do definitely ship her with Rory! I love watching them mature together!!! I love the “Rory is the most beautiful man I’ve ever met” speech!  I love when she’s telling the bad guys this terrifying, powerful figure is going to come for her and you think it’s the Doctor and then she actually means the Last Centurion, her husband!!  I love the scene where she’s crying just before she forgets him, it is absolutely g u t t i n g in the best way.  they’re such a great example of a couple who grow in love together.

Platonic OTP: Amy and Eleven is pretty much my biggest dw OTP of all time, and I’m not even sure if I could explain why.  I love how much they worry about each other, I love all the forehead kisses.  I love the slightly tragic past tense of “There was a time…there were years…when I couldn’t live without you.”  I love where it all starts: “Why did you say six months?” “Why did you say five minutes?” he betrayed her trust and left her alone, like everyone in her life up until this point had – but he’s still a fairytale figure for her, the embodiment of her lost innocence.  and so when he makes the choice to take her with him, when he sticks by her, together they’re able to regain some innocence – she gets to be childlike and free, and he gets to be a magical hero!  She reaches adulthood knowing it’s not just a suppression of beauty and magic!  I mean, does it get any better than “Hello everyone, I’m Amy’s imaginary friend…but I came anyway”??  “Gotcha”??? they love each other, is what I’m saying.

Unpopular Opinion: I’m not sure if this is unpopular, but I fully despise the plotline wherein Amy is mystically pregnant (and kidnapped! both!) and then River is revealed to be her and Rory’s daughter.  I don’t mind River as a quasi-timelord, but I hate hate hate River as the Ponds’ child whom they never got to raise, except sort of because she regenerated into their best friend when they were children (w h a t), and they tried to rescue and protect her but they utterly failed.  first of all, mystical pregnancy is a miserable trope always, but it absolutely has no business showing up in a kids’ show. second, why make Rory and Amy’s lives so tragic like that?? why not let them raise their child? I’ll tell you why, because the writers didn’t think raising a child was interesting enough for their sci-fi show, and if that’s what they thought, then they shouldn’t have included a pregnancy. and finally, Amy as the Doctor’s mother-in-law is the worst. 

I Wish: Amy and Rory had been allowed to raise their time-baby.  maybe Melody could grow up to be River - that’s not intrinsically awful, necessarily.  but I would have MUCH preferred if Amy’s daughter didn’t also have her childhood destroyed, for Melody’s sake and for Amy’s.  it’s too depressing for Doctor Who.

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Truth Pt. 14

Master List @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Request:

What’s up sug! sorry you’re struggling right now but I’ve come to help you If you could bring this to light for me I’d absolutely love for YOU TO DO JT So basically Bucky X Enhanced reader who are fuckin enemies. Hate each other to every last fiber of their beings bc Bucky is rude and she calls him out on it. AnywHs, they get drunk, truth or dare (go crZy baby) and LOTS LF dirty talk if u wanna do smut but if u don’t then buck taking care of her while she’s drunk cause she admitted her feelings

Pairing: Bucky X Reader (Enhanced)

Summary: Since The Avengers gave you a home the only blight has been Bucky Barnes, a ghost from your past that you can’t seem to shake. It makes you hate him. The feeling, it seems, is mutual. But… a simple game reveals that maybe things aren’t quite so simple. (Post Winter Soldier AU)

Warnings: Angst, feels, blood, pain, and... fluff

A/N: I’M NOT CRYING YOU’RE CRYING! 

FUUUUCK. Thank y’all so much for your support and love of this series. It’s been a runaway train from the beginning and I’ve enjoyed even the utterly painful parts. I thought I was gonna wait and post this on Wednesday like I usually do but honestly... after the last chapter I think everyone waited long enough. 

I hope you all enjoy this. Thank you thank you thank you!!!

Tags are open!

@midnightdream83 @mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415@peachthatdrinkslemonade @wonderlandmind4 @piensa-bonito @handplucked@buckysstar @sam-jae @marauderconvos –harder @for-the-love-of-the-fandom  @marvelousmeggi  @jewelofwinter  @fairislesheets @animegirlgeeky  @lydklein1  @katecolleen @siriuslycloudy2  @zannemes

The concussive force from the superheated air knocks everyone back. Free of Stark’s grip, Bucky hits his knees, gaping at the glowing pillar of white light reaching from the ground into the sky. It would be beautiful if he knew you weren’t trapped in the middle of it.

It only lasts for a couple of seconds before it’s gone. The sky cracks with thunder as it cools, clouds swirling in response to the unnatural disturbance. The ground shakes heavily for several minutes, buildings creak, a few close to the now leveled main building collapse.

Then… silence as rain begins to fall from the angry sky.

“J… Jarvis… talk to me…”

“The energy emitted… it was equivalent to a massive nuclear detonation… somehow Miss Y/N managed to contain it… had she not the city would have been decimated… The force caused an earthquake, around a five on the Richter scale. There will be damage but nothing major.”

Bucky hardly registers what any of that means. He bolts to his feet and begins running. Only one thing matters to him at this moment. He has to find you, no matter what shape you may be in he has to bring you home, he will not leave you here… he can’t. If Stark or anyone tried to stop him he’d kill them. That simple.

He’s about to jump into the crater that was once the main building when a hand grabs his shoulder. Spinning on his heels he’s ready to lash out at who ever had the gall to stop him. Steve’s mournful gaze freezes Bucky’s rage in an instant.

“We’ll find her Buck. I swear.” Bucky stares at him for a second before managing a nod and the two men slide down.

Desperately his eyes scan for anything that will give him a clue. But it’s just endless, charred, steaming rubble.

He hears Tony overhead, “Come on Jarvis, tell me you got something.” If Jarvis responds it’s not on everyone’s coms. Sam is also above them scanning, while Hill and Clint help Natasha down into the crater. No one seems certain of what they’re looking for, only that they have to look. Have to try.

After about ten minutes that feel like five hours Sam pipes up, “I think we got something!” He’s near the center, landing softly, no one sure how solid the ground beneath them is.

Bucky rushes over as Jarvis chimes in on all their coms, “Weak life signs. She seems to be in an air pocket.”

“Help me with this guys,” Tony goes to a large slab of wall. Carefully Bucky, Steve, and Tony lift the slab and lay it gently down, not wanting to cause the debris to shift too heavily. There’s still an unnerving groaning sound from somewhere beneath their feet.

They move more debris, working at a miserably slow pace. Finally, they lift a piece of strangely warped concrete and…

He sees you, the debris around you curved and almost melted forming a sort of cocoon. You’re on your back, large patches of your tac uniform have been burned away, your exposed flesh black and red and blistered, your right arm is pinned under your back at a sickening angle, clearly badly broken. Blood trickles from your mouth, nose, and ears. But you’re alive.

Unthinking Bucky drops down hands reaching, aching to touch you. “If you touch her I’ll put a bullet in you Barnes,” Sam barks settling next to you. Bucky glares, “Moving her you could kill her and I’m not going to fucking let that happen. We clear?”

He’s right. Bucky nods. Thankful for Sam.

“Jarvis we need the Nightingale.”

Within five minutes you’re on some kind of Stark tech stretcher. Sam carefully arranges your busted arm, while straps gently and automatically hold you in place.

“Let’s get her home,” Clint says from behind Bucky, patting his back in an attempt at comfort.

Everyone is quiet on the ride back. Sam monitors your vitals, your worryingly faint heartbeat drops over and over and Bucky feels himself die just a little each time. Thankfully you’re still hanging on when they land at the tower.

Medical is prepped and ready. Instantly they surround you, Dr. Cabot barking orders in her stern tone. Bucky follows but Steve grabs him, “Let them help her.”

“Get the fuck off me Steve I can’t-”

“You can’t go in the O.R. Buck,” his grip tightens, “you can’t. But they’re gonna do everything they can. She’s tough as nails. She’s gonna pull through this.” Tony walks past them guiding Natasha and Bucky shoots him a murderous glance. “Come on.”

Bucky refuses to leave medical while you’re in surgery. Everyone but Tony waits with him. Even Bruce joins them looking stressed. It’s just as good. He’s of the mind to literally rip Stark’s spine out.

Six excruciating hours later Dr. Cabot comes out. “We got her stable.” Bucky shoots up. “Some… some of the injuries were unique… the heat…” She shakes her head, “We did our best. Now we wait and hope.”

He feels like he’s gonna be sick. “Can… c… can I…”

“Soon,” The doctor gives Bucky a tender smile. ��Get cleaned up and by the time you’re done we’ll have her ready for you to see.”

Bucky nods but can’t seem to bring himself to move. Clint and Steve coax him to the elevator. All the guys come along to the locker room they use for post mission clean up. No one willing to leave him alone.

Cleaned and changed they all head back up. Natasha is sitting with Hill, their hands clasped, in the little lounge area when they get there. Both looking morose.

“You can go see her,” Natasha’s voice is far away. “Wanted you to be first.”

Bucky runs the short distance to the private rooms the medical bay has. In the door, he freezes. You’re black and blue, bruises already blossoming. Bandages cover your arms from the burns, plus a few on your face.

“She’s breathing on her own,” Dr. Cabot comes up from behind, startling him. He jumps, but doesn’t lash out. “Sorry.” All he can manage is a nod in response before stepping in.

“That’s a good sign,” her tone is trying to reassure him but it’s not working. “She’s gonna need a new shoulder but that can wait… Just… there were internal burns. We aren’t sure how they’ll heal… and the head trauma… that’s always tricky.” She sighs, “Time will tell. Being enhanced… changes things, hopefully in this case for the better. No one should have made it through that… She’s strong.”

He nods as if anything she said sunk in and walks over to the bed collapsing on the chair next to it.

“Talk to her,” he looks up and she’s smiling. “Let her know you’re here. I’ll check in later.”

As soon as the door clicks behind her hot tears begin to stream silently down his face as he stares at you. He’s terrified to touch you, so scared that he’ll somehow make this worse. And talk… his tongue feels like lead in his mouth. Even his brain is swirling with different languages, unable to lock on to his mother tongue.

This is his fault. That’s the only solid thought he has right now. He shouldn’t have let you go in that room. Shouldn’t have let you anywhere near this mission… You hating him forever for being a controlling asshole would be better than this… at least you’d be alive.

Then he realizes there is one thing. One thing he has to find a way to say. Russian, Mandarin, French, Spanish, they all try to come out before he coaches his tongue to the proper English syllables. Leaning close to your ear he whispers, voice thick with regret and grief, “I love you, Y/N. I’m so sorry…”

-

Five days later and your bruises have faded some, the burns healing, but you haven’t opened your eyes… Bruce assured him that you clearly have brain activity, that’s supposed to mean you’re still with them… still fighting. It’s not much comfort.

Bucky has hardly left this room, he’s spoken even less… well to anyone but you, and even then only when you’re alone. Steve and Natasha have kept the most vigil with him, he thinks they’ve worked out some sort of six on six off schedule. The others come in at least once a day, sad smiles and soft words. That is everyone but Stark who’s kept his distance.

Steve finally convinces Bucky that he needs to step away for more than five minutes. Well, convinces isn’t the word… he practically begs. Bucky agrees on the grounds that they won’t leave the tower and Jarvis is to notify him immediately of even the smallest changes to your condition.

They only go up to the roof for about a half hour. The air and sunlight actually do feel good, they clear his head just enough.

As the two men ride back down Bucky turns to his friend, “Thank you.” Steve looks shocked for a moment before relief floods his face. They’re the first words he’s said to him in days.

Without a word, Steve pulls Bucky into a bone crushing hug. In all their years of friendship, Bucky rarely let himself be weak around Steve. He needed to be strong for the scrappy little shit because no one else was gonna… but now, in this elevator after both their worlds have fallen, risen, and now Bucky feels as if it’s fallen again he leans into Steve’s strength for just a minute. “You got it, Buck.”

As they approach your room music spills from the open door. Bucky feels the blood in his veins turn cold. Stark.

“I know you have to hate this one Sparks, so feel free to tell me what a lame ass I am… berate me… anything…” Tony’s voice is rough. He’s leaned back in a chair balancing on two legs by your bed, hands cradling the back of his head. “The 90’s were a tough time for music but there were some gems.”

“Bucky, don’t-” Steve warns. Stark shoots up as Bucky barrels into the room.

He grabs Stark by his tee and slams him against the wall. Surprisingly though all the hateful things he’s thought to scream at Stark over the last few days won’t fly from his lips now. Instead, he holds him there, cold eyes boring into him.

“For what it’s worth I wanna kick my ass too…” The sincerity in Stark’s voice hits Bucky like a blow and he releases him though he doesn’t move away.

Stark’s eyes wander behind Bucky to you, “It was the one thing-” His voice cracks and he clears his throat trying to gain composure before continuing. “It was the only thing she ever asked of me. I asked her to trust us, to join us. I asked her to play hero… fuck.” He runs a hand over his face, catching the tears before they can fall. “She never asked anything of me… until you.” Bucky turns away, not wanting to hear it but unable to leave.

“She asked me to promise that if shit went sideways I would keep your dumbass safe because she knew you’d try to follow her into any deathtrap that came up. The only thing she asked.” His voice is shaking with emotion, “And you can hate me until the day I eventually eat it but I’d do it again in a heartbeat for her.”

Silence rings between the three men, only broken by the sounds of the music. “Even if you hate it play the music. There’s some stuff I know she’ll like. And even if she doesn’t… maybe she’ll get annoyed enough to wake up and have at me.”

As Tony pushes past him Bucky’s arm shoots out, holding him in place. He doesn’t look at him, scared that if he does he won’t be able to say the words. “I don’t hate you, Tony.” Finally, he turns, Tony’s face is bereft, “Keep the music coming, she likes your shitty playlists.”

A sad smile curls Tony’s lips. “They’re only shitty because you’re too old to know what’s good, Manchurian.”

-

Day 12 rolls up and Bucky begins to feel himself shutdown in a way he hasn’t since he’s been here. It’s a detachment he was familiar with as the Soldier, as though he’s observing the world through plate glass.

He’s going through the motions they all expect. Eating, drinking, talking when he needs to, even managing a half hearted smile here and there. All of it is muscle memory though, autopilot to get through the times when other people are watching.

Honestly, it’s easier to feel that way. Easier when they’re there and he has to play a part. When they’re gone… he feels it. It’s like there’s a crushing weight on his chest. He thinks he’d take the chair a thousand times over this grief. Rather mind numbing pain than this slow suffocation.

But still, he stays by your side. He plays Tony’s playlists, some of his music, some of yours. Sometimes he sings to you, softly, old songs he remembers from his life before. Maybe he tells you about something he remembers or old dreams he had of who he’d be. Over and over he whispers those those three little words he should have been saying long before now.

By day 17 he’s just numb. Your bruises have faded, the burns almost healed leaving pink scars in places that may linger for a few years. The doctors insist that your brain activity is promising but you haven’t even fluttered your eyes, not even a squeeze to his hand, nothing… despite the times, alone in the wee hours of the morning, that he’s begged for you to.

On day 21 he thinks this is worse than death. Just watching you lay there day after day night after night. Performing for the others. Hoping and hoping and hoping for something that may never happen.

Tonight he doesn’t sing, doesn’t play music, doesn’t tell stories. He lays his head down on the bed, silence holding you both tight. Tears stream from his eyes and he counts your breaths until oblivion takes him.

-

No one ever tells you what it’s like to almost die.

There’s always the wondrous stories about people who die and come back. The white light, loved ones telling you it’s not time and all that shit. People just don’t seem to talk about the almost. They don’t talk about the void of pain, the fear of dying that lingers after your body ceases to listen to you. There’s no beautiful light or love when you’re screaming but no one can hear you. Nothing poetic in pushing through the endless darkness of unconsciousness.

You’ve been here before though. Many times. The almost is like an old friend that rises to greet you when you feel the roof give way beneath your feet. It’s happy to drag you under as the debris settles around your body, still pulsing and glowing with pure burning energy.

Unlike those other times though you don’t beg for death and you don’t pull through to spite the reaper either. This time you fight because there’s something worth living for. Someone, or someones rather, who you aren’t willing to leave behind. Not yet. So you push back against that insidious pull of death, scream and beg your body to obey you to move just a little, just something so they know.

It seems like an age before you feel the pain sear through your right shoulder. For a moment you don’t remember why your shoulder should be hurting or why the hell you’re sleeping on your back. Then it all barrels into you. The pain is less of a nuisance then, you savor it because it means you won, you’re still alive.

The room is silent but you can hear a familiar steady breathing to your left, feel a familiar weight across your torso. Bucky sleeping, his left arm over you, right hand tightly gripping your left. You have to open your eyes, have to see him… You don’t know how long it takes you to force your eyes to open but it feels like hours.

Slowly they creak open, heavy and strangely sore. Even though the light is dim it feels like looking into the sun for a second. Eventually, they adjust and you drag your gaze to the left.

Your heart rises in your parched throat. His eyes look puffy from tears, lips chapped. His beard seems so much longer… how long were you… it didn’t matter.

First, you try to open your mouth, but nothing happens. Your tongue feels heavy, thick, unsure of how to function anymore. It takes a few frustrating minutes but finally you get it under control.

You squeeze his right hand as tight as you can manage. He shifts a bit but doesn’t seem to register until you squeeze once more. Instantly he shoots up, eyes wide.

“Y/N?!”

Your voice is nothing but a rasp, barely even a whisper, but you have to say it… just in case you never get to again. “I love you.”

Those spectacular eyes of his well with tears instantly, his chest heaves, like he hasn’t taken a breath in days. “I love you too, Y/N. So much baby doll. I love you.” That’s all he manages, words stumbling over themselves, before he breaks.

Bucky's lips crash into yours silencing his sob and you tangle the fingers of your left hand in his hair. His forehead rests against yours, his gaze making your heart skip a beat.

“I thought I lost you, baby.”

“You’ll never lose me, Bucky. I’m all yours.”

-

The next few days are a strange, disorienting blur. You feel like you forgot how to be awake.

Despite almost a month of unconsciousness you constantly feel yourself drifting off. Dr. Cabot tells you that your body is still healing. It was a massive trauma and even super soldiers have a breaking point. Still… it’s annoying. You want to be awake, to study the faces of your friends, dry their tears, hold on to every single moment.

Unconscious or awake though Bucky is there. His reassuring warmth a constant by your side. But… you can see what this has done to him. He’s ragged, barely sleeping, his eyes haunted. The relief that floods his face every time you wake up nearly undoes you.

Four days later Dr. Cabot comes in, a smile on her face. “Good news. I’m clearing you to go home.” That one little work sends warmth flooding through you. Home. Home with Bucky. You turn to him, your face hurting from the smile that just burst across it.

“Don’t get too excited though, you’re not done seeing me. I’m still going to be checking in and as soon as Tony has your shoulder replacement ready we’re scheduling your surgery.” As much as you hate the thought of being under, you’re sick of having a useless arm, you nod. “But since you live here I think being back in your own space will be good. For the both of you.” She gives Bucky a stern look.

“Thanks, Doc.” You eek out despite the emotion welling in your chest.

A couple of hours later and you’re in the elevator, thankful you talked your way out of a wheelchair. It felt good to be on your own two feet, even if you were leaning on Bucky for support.

When the doors slide open a welcome banner hung above the door greets you.

“Are they going to jump out and yell surprise when we walk in?”

Bucky looks down at you, clearly just as caught off guard as you were. “No idea.”

Cautiously he opens the door but to both of your relief no one jumps out, in fact, no one is here at all. What is here are sprays of flowers and a ton of food. A lump rises in your throat as you pick up the hand written card left on the bar:

We all thought you two would like some time alone. Enjoy the snacks, pizza will come later. We each picked a movie we think you’ll like, they’re queued on your TV. Jarvis has your ‘Welcome Home’ playlist ready to go for whenever you want to annoy Ice Man.

Glad you’re back with us, Sparks.

-The Team

PS

I picked out the flowers, because we can’t trust these boys to get that right.

-Nat

Bucky wraps you in his arms, pulling your back flat against him, “We’re home, doll. Really home.”

The weight of those words almost make you weep from pure joy. Hydra had tried time and time again to take everything from you both, to prevent you from finding home and happiness. Hell, even your childhood home was nothing but a lie… But here… With these people, with him, together you had all found something special. More than home, you found family.

Turning in his arms you grasp the back of his neck with your good hand. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

His lips are soft against yours, this kiss unhurried. After all, why rush something so sweet. It truly hits you then that you want nothing but this for the rest of your days, no matter how many or how few there may be. Nothing but him.

Pulling back from the kiss you stare into his face. You want to remember every line, every freckle, every single detail of how he looks in this moment.

“What is it?” Concern flashes across his features for an instant.

“Truth or dare?”

“What?” He laughs.

“Come on. Truth or dare?”

“Um, dare.”

“I dare you to marry me, James Buchanan Barnes.”

The laugh that tears through his chest is pure joy. Every ounce of exhaustion slips from his features as he lifts you up and sets you on the counter top. He doesn’t say anything, just takes your face in his rough hands and kisses you until you can hardly breathe.

“Well? Do you accept my challenge?” You grin up at this man you love.

“I do.”

“That’s supposed to come later I think.” You tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear.

“I will happily accept that dare, Y/N.” Another laugh falls from his lips before he kisses you once more. “My turn,” he says breaking the kiss. “Truth or dare?”

“I feel obligated to chose dare, it got us into this whole mess originally after all.”

He nods in acknowledgment. “I dare you to take my name.” All you can do is smile at him. You already planned on it, your original last name left a bad taste in your mouth after everything. Your silence seems to unsettle him though, “I know it’s old fashioned but-”

“I’d love to.” He looks shocked. “Y/N Barnes. Has a nice ring to it.”

“Yeah,” he covers your face in kisses, “it does.”

Epilogue to come.

[peachywise]

basement confessions

stanley uris x reader

-- one-shot

-- synopsis: You hated Stanley Uris. Stanley Uris hated you. Why the Losers’ Club thought a sleepover and a game of truth or dare would fix that was beyond you, but anything’s worth a try. (aged up au: 18) 

-- notes: requested by @katherinewhat ; “heyheyhey i would like to see a imagine/fanfic whatever u want to call it, where (y/n) and stan hate each other ever since they were kids. But then the losers club is just sick of them fighting so they have a sleepover and play truth or dare or something; then lock them in bill’s basement and are forced to make out *cough* sorry make up ;) anddd (y/n) is terrified of bill’s basement so stan try’s to calm her down??” okay so I love this fic, i hope you do too!! as always, let me know if you want an add to the tag list. It’s a little on the long side (3k+) so i put a keep reading tab on it. (this also has a splash of reddie thrown in there)

click here to read the unofficially official part two: ailing confessions 

“Truth or dare, Y/N?” Stan asked you, as he tried to hide the small ghost of a smirk that slowly inched its way on to his face.

And at that moment, you knew you were fucked.

“Jesus Christ,” Bev muttered under her breath in reply before you could voice your own irritation. Jesus Christ, indeed. Currently, all the Losers were sat around in a circle in the living room of Bill’s house playing this stupid game Richie had suggested. Truth or dare. Though you fought against it, asking in a sarcastic tone, “what are we, twelve?” you were easily ignored. It wasn’t that you were scared to play the game or do the dares. You just knew one person in particular would try to make you do the most miserable, horrible stuff he could think of. That person was Stanley Uris.

It was the first sleepover that you and Stan had attended together, and you hoped it would be the last. You had known the boy for years, and he’d always been just as high-strung as his coiled, golden locks. You’d never once gotten along with him. It mostly started in fourth grade when he chastised your organizational skills. In an attempt to prove him wrong, you ended up running against him for class president. It was the most intense election to date, and even your teacher was stunned into a quiet submission at some of your well-thought out, yet fierce rebuttals. In the end, Richie won by a landslide, but the animosity had already blossomed between you two. Afterwards he would go out of his way to put you down and correct you at any chance, and in return, you would draw dead birds and leave them in his locker to torment him. Looking back on it now, you agreed that maybe that course of action was a little mean and far too morbid, but you couldn’t feel remorse for it when he hated you just as much.

It was like he wanted to argue with you on everything! Anything you ever suggested the Losers’ Club did, he would be right there telling you it was a stupid, reckless idea and that you should just be ignored. Ben and Mike often tried to mediate your fights, boiling it down to the fact you two where allegedly similar (ha!), but nothing could ever mend the poisonous hostility that dripped between you two.

You had no idea why they thought a sleepover would be the cure.

That’s what this night was about, after all. You weren’t stupid. Well. You were stupid enough that you hadn’t expected this to be the plan when you showed up tonight, but c’est la vie. The only solace you took in your embarrassment of having fell for the trap was the fact Stan fell for it too. Sucker. You’d both have to suffer in each other’s company.

Turning your head in emphasized boredom towards Stan, you rolled your eyes. Don’t let him see the panic that washed through you and made your finger tips numb. You could handle whatever came your way. “Let’s go with truth, bird fucker,” you yawned, meeting his gaze in a look you hoped met his challenge. You swore you saw his eye twitch, most likely in response to the nickname you had given him. He’d never liked it. You weren’t exactly sure why.

“Fine,” he quipped, leaning back slightly as if all too relaxed. You could see the fake contemplation on his face. He already knew what he was going to ask you, he just wanted to drag it on for a little while. What a sadist.

“Do you guys remember in ninth grade when someone was leaving love letters in Bill’s locker?” Ah, fuck. Slowly, everyone in the circle gave a perplexed nod. “I think I remember Y/N telling me they know who did it.” You were going to ring Stan’s scrawny, little neck and feed him to the freaking pigeons.  Wait, scratch that. You would feed him to the fish. He liked pigeons too much to even deserve that. “Care to share?”

As much as you hated to admit it, this was a smart tactic. He knew you were the one who had left the love letters. He wasn’t giving you the opportunity to lie about the truth he had giving you. What a bitch. The day he caught you trying to cram one through the little metal slots was the day you lost about 5 years of your life. You’d always wondered why he never said anything. Now you knew. He had waited for the right opportunity.

Taking in a deep, calming breath, you flopped back so you were laying down on the floor. No way in hell did you want to see their reactions. “It was me,” you gritted out, folding your arms over your chest like a pouty child. “The crush barley lasted three months, okay? It was a moment of weakness,” you explained, before Bill stuttered out a slightly offended, “hey.” Sitting back up, you faced him and gave him an apologetic smile. “Let me rephrase that. Not weakness. You were being especially nice to me during a time when someone,” you muttered, giving a pointed look towards Stan, “was making it his life’s purpose to hate me.” Stan’s face dropped the slightest bit, before he covered it up and put back on his face of indifference. Weird.

“It’s fine,” Bill smiled a little awkwardly, flashing a look towards Stan who had now averted his gaze up towards the ceiling. Richie, however, gave you an accusatory glare. “You told everyone you thought it was me doing that!” He whined, before you cleared your throat and loudly asked, “Hey Stan! Truth or dare?” You had to cover your tracks somehow.

“Dare.” He stated definitively, without so much of a waver in his tone. Giving a little smirk, you simply said, “I dare you to let Eddie spit in your mouth.”

Havoc ensued.

“WHAT?” Eddie shot out, immediately standing up and letting the blanket drop that had previously been draped over his and Richie’s lap. Crossing his arms out in front of him, he shook his head erratically. “No. No way. Do you know how unsanitary that is? I am not spitting in his mouth!” Richie gave a little snicker as he casually added, “I’ll spit in his mouth.” Eddie looked down at him utterly horrified. In reality, it wasn’t even that big of a deal. Eddie had swapped spit with Richie before, even if the two wouldn’t admit it to the rest of you. Those idiots didn’t know how obvious they really were.

Stan shook his head. “Nobody is spitting in my mouth,” he groaned, as if he couldn’t believe he actually had to say that sentence. Big baby. “A dare is a dare, Stan,” Bev conceded, the small tell-tale crinkles at the corner of her eyes appearing as a sign of her amusement.  Ben just murmured a small, “I don’t want to watch.”

Standing up, you snapped your fingers in Richie’s direction before pointing at Stan. “The sooner you do it, the sooner it’ll be over,” you huffed out, planting your hands on your hips. Stan stood up in response and stalked over to you, glaring you down in an attempt to thwart your persistence as he repeated a simple, “no.” Pay back’s a real bitch, Uris.

Preparing to fight Stan until inevitably someone’s spit ended up sliding down his throat, Mike’s voice rung out before you could even get a single word out. “How about as consolation we have to come up with a group dare? We come up with something else, and you have to do whatever it is no matter what?” What a buzz kill. Stanley didn’t even take a second to process what was offered to him before he said, “I’ll do whatever else.”

“Billy? Can you read me a story?” came a small voice from the corridor of the hallway, breaking the pervious tension that had radiated between you and Stan. Bill stood up before walking over to his little brother, Georgie. “Yeah, of c-course,” he smiled down at him, before turning to look back at the rest of you. “Pick something good, okay?” he added brightly, before leading Georgie back down the hallway, arm slung around him.

By the time you looked back over, Mike, Ben, Eddie, Bev, and Richie were already crowded around each other, mumbling ideas about what new dare they were going to give Stan. How come you weren’t allowed to be apart of the deliberation? Way to rip off your turn.

Giving one last glaring side eye to Stan, you plopped yourself on the couch, preparing to enjoy the oncoming show, albeit how boring it was bound to be without the involvement of spit.  

“Okay,” Mike grinned, as the rest of your friends turned back to face you two. “Both of you have to be locked in the basement and makeup—“ Richie butted in saying “make out,” before Beverly clapped her hand over his mouth. Mike gave him a knowing look, before continuing with, “like I was saying, you’ll be locked down there until you guys work out whatever deep seeded issues you have with one other.” Ben added in a quick and chirpy, “even if it takes all night.”

Well, that just wasn’t going to work.

“This is his dare, not mine!” you groaned, “why am I being wrapped up into this? I never agreed.” Eddie shot you a disbelieving look, shooting back with, “but you were fine having me spit in his mouth?” Touché. But you still weren’t taking a single step into that basement. No. You had refused to go down into Bill’s basement for years. Not since the last time. You weren’t going to start now on some silly little dare.

“Deal,” Stan stated simply, as he turned and began walking down the hallway. What the fuck?

Racing to catch up to him, you shot your arm out to grip his forearm. “Hey, no deal! I’m not going into the basement. Not with you, not with anyone,” you grated out, trying the squash the panicked feeling that had begun to onset. You were terrified of being down there. You couldn’t go.

Stan turned to stare at you for a second, his face shifting into something unreadable as he took a tiny step towards you. Getting more desperate by the second, you whispered a small, “please,” quiet enough for only him to hear it. The last thing you wanted to do was beg him for anything, but just the thought of stepping foot down in that cement hell hole was causing you to be irrational.

“It’ll be fun!” Richie’s voice called from behind you, as you felt hands go to your hips and lift you in the air, as you were tossed right on over the trashmouth’s shoulder. Suddenly, you weren’t sure if you hated him more or Stan. “Put me down, you shit head!” you bit out, hitting his back as he effortlessly used his free hand to swing the basement door open before beginning his descent down the steps. Stan followed slowly after him, giving a hesitant look all the way down while you still struggled and yelled out a slew of curse words aimed at no one in particular. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” Stan stated hesitantly, as he seemed to be the only one noticing the frightened look in your eyes. If your rational brain had been functioning at the moment, you would have yelled at him for the pity. Right now you really didn’t care all that much.

As Richie set you down on the ground, you quickly tried following his steps back up the rickety wooden stairs, but you didn’t make it. The door was shut unceremoniously in your face. “This is for the greater good!” his annoying voice called from behind the door, before you heard all your friend’s steps lead back down the hall. Banging on the door frantically, you cried for them to let you out. It was too dark. You couldn’t breath. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t focus, you—

“Are you okay?”

Resting your head on the wooden door, you tried to take calm, reassuring breaths. “Just leave me alone, Stanley,” you murmured, already embarrassed enough at your fear. You don’t think you’d ever been alone with Stan in your life. Figures it be during a time like this.

“Look at me,” Stan stated, a certain edge to his voice. Taking in another sharp breath to calm the shaking of your hands, you turned around on the small step to face him. You immediately regretted that decision. Suddenly a flashback of the incident that made you hate this basement so much flooded though your thoughts and your bones, and you weren’t so sure you could stand anymore. Covering your face with your hands, you bent down a little as if to contain yourself. “I can’t be in here,” you whispered, as two arms wrapped around your shoulders. You flinched, but he didn’t let go.

“Let’s go down the stairs,” he calmly stated, as he slung one arm slightly awkwardly around your tense shoulders as you began the walk down. As soon as your bare feet hit cold pavement, a shaky sigh of relief escaped you. Turned out you felt better on ground level than on the stairs. Duly noted.

Sitting down on the floor as he let go, you brought your knees up to your chest and wrapped your arms around your legs. At this very moment you didn’t give half a shit of what Stan thought. You just needed to calm down and get out of here. If that meant you had to play nice with golden boy, you would do it.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” he questioned a little cautiously, as you breathed out a small, “not really,” bending your head down to rest on your knees.  It was a stupid story. The only one who knew was Bill, and you had sworn him to secrecy right after it happened. Mostly because you didn’t want Stan finding out and making fun of you for it.

It was quiet for a beat, before you finally heard him say, “good, because I don’t want to hear it.” Irritation quickly shot through your veins, replacing the previous numbness brought upon from your little panicked moment. Lifting up your head, you yelled, “you don’t have to be such a jackass!” Then you noticed the small smile plastered on his face. “Do you feel better now?” he asked knowingly, and you grumbled a short, “shut up,” in return before putting your head back down on your knees.

It was quiet again. A little longer this time, and the silence made you feel cold all over. You felt tears start to prickle at the side of your eyes as you remembered laying down here in the cold that one night, all alone and in so much fucking pain that—

“I’m terrified of mascots.”

“What?” you blurted out, your head snapping up as if a puppeteer had lifted the string. “Mascots. You know, the people in the big, often furry suits,” he explained a little more thoroughly.

Well this was new information.

“When I was seven years old, I went to a ball game with my dad,” he continued, much to your surprise. You focused on his smooth voice. “There was this tiger mascot, and for some reason he kept following me around. It was annoying, but I managed to hide. When he found me, my dad thought it was amusing and shoved him towards me as some sort of joke. The mascot fell and knocked me down, and his head just fell off as I was crushed below him. The guy was clearly drunk and man, he smelled so gross,” Stan groaned, giving a bit of a shiver at the memory. “Ever since then, I run the other way as soon as I see them. They terrify me.”

You stared at him for a second, before a small snort escaped you. Stan’s face quickly dropped.

"It’s not funny,” he grumbled, as he began to pace away from you. Standing up a little shakily still, you gave a bit of a breathless laugh. “No, no I’m sorry, it’s not.” You agreed, trying your hardest to keep a straight face. The second his hesitant eyes met yours again, however, you busted into uncontainable laughter.

“If you tell anyone, no one’s going to believe you!” He shot out, as you wiped the small tears from the corner of your eye. Wow. Just the image of Stan running away from some guy in a giant bird costume had you in a fit of giggles once more.

“I was just trying to make you feel better,” he retorted once more, as you took deep breaths to stop the laughter in its tracks. He was right. You were being kind of rude. “I’m sorry, okay? Look. No more laughing,” you pleaded, reaching out to grab his wrist while giving him the best serious look you could. You knew a small smile still lit your face, but you hoped he’d take the effort to not laugh as a white flag.

“Fine,” he mumbled, as he sat down on the floor once more, you sitting directly across from him. You began to feel a little awkward at his confession. He trusted you with that, so what harm could come from you telling him why you were so afraid of the basement? Maybe bringing it up would make you feel a little better.

“Do you remember when I was ten and I broke my leg?” Stan nodded. “Well,” you breathed, as you looked down towards your fiddling hands, “that weekend I had slept over at Bill’s because my parents were out of town. I got up in the middle of the night to get some water, and I,” stopping briefly to calm the small race in your heart, you continued quickly. “I thought I heard a noise in the basement. I assumed it was Bill trying to freak me out, I never did like basements very much, but as soon as I got to the second step, I tripped and fell down the stairs,” you whispered, a phantom pain shooting through your right leg at the memory.  “That’s not so bad in itself, but no one heard me. I was left down here all night until Bill’s dad found me in the morning, crying in pain, and—“

The slightest touch against your cheek jarred you from your thoughts as Stan swiped a small tear from your face with his thumb. His eyes were intense on yours as he softly said, “you’re not alone down here, Y/N,” his hand resting lightly on your cheek, and you were unsure if he knew what he was doing.  

Shock went through you at the tender moment, and before you knew it, you were clearing your throat and leaning away from his touch, uncertain of what it all meant. “Yeah, well, as much as I appreciate the sentiment, it’s not like we enjoy each other’s company all that much.”

That seemingly broke the mood.

“Why do you insist on hating me?” he bit out, his earlier soft stare turning hard and bitter. You scoffed out loud, standing up instinctively to tower over him. “Why do I hate you?” you questioned disbelieving, “why do you hate me?” Stan soon stood up after you, using his own taller stature to one-up you as he loomed over you instead. “God, it’s like you think I’m stupid or something! You’re such a control freak, you know that?” you yelled.

“I’m the control freak?” he reiterated, in a tone much more dubious than yours. There he goes! Trying to one-up you again! “Take a look in the mirror! You fight me on everything, and what does it get us? Useless arguments? You’re the one who always wants to be in control, you’re the one who always tests my patience!” he gritted out, poking you in the chest. Oh, hell no. Taking another step forward so you were as close as you could get to his face, you ground out, “if you touch me one more time Stanley Uris, I swear I will—“

“You’ll do what?” he shot back before you finished, his eyes becoming slightly hooded, your chests nearly meeting as your irritated, heady breaths became almost synchronized.

And then he kissed you.

Actually, he more or less crashed into you, his hands roughly gripping each side of your face as you met him with just as much exhilaration and passion. At first your hands rested on his chest, but one soon slinked up to his neck, as the other roughly gripped his hair. A small moan escaped him as you did, and you returned it with your own.

Moving his hands slowly, and painfully exhilarating down your body, he gripped your sides before you hopped up and easily wrapped your legs around his waist, unable to get enough. The kiss was a little messy, but the need was too great. It was like it had been built up over years, and maybe it had. Now that you had gotten a taste of just how sweet he could be, you couldn’t get enough. You weren’t sure he could get enough either.

Soon enough you were pressed rather urgently against a wall, as Stan finally moved his kiss from your lips, down to your jaw, and to your neck where he hit a particularly sensitive spot. Breathing his name rather heavily in return, you unravelled your hand from his hair to bring his lips back up to your again, but a new voice in the enclosed space had you both stopping like two kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

“I guess you’re n-not so scared of the b-basement anymore,” Bill called with a small snicker in his tone from the top of the steps.

Bending your head down to rest on Stan’s shoulder, your cheeks flared a rather familiar heat that also passed through your whole body. The boy just simply chuckled into your hair and called back, “we’re all made up.”

Now, you weren’t positively sure about that, but what you were sure of?  This wasn’t going to be the last sleepover you had with Stanley Uris if you had anything to do with it.

-- general tags: @multi-parker @stan-the-losers-club-man @this-cute-shit-xo @hummingstan @babylovereddie @ubertrashmouth @derrysdenbrough @socially-awkward-nerd

[aldmerii-blog]

3, 7, and 18 for best girl. my wife and queen.

PERISH i love u, [prompt list]

03. — lending a coat in the cold

This was the sort of miserable, soggy, just-below-freezing snow that clung to his shoes and threatened constantly to seep through and soak his socks. It reminded him constantly that this was a stupid idea. Turn back now, all ye who enter here, lest ye be afflicted with cold feet and post-rejection melancholy! It didn’t help that he was so utterly unfamiliar with this part of town -- he knew his way well enough to Shaelle’s house (manor? estate?) but less so in the dark. The wet wind had extinguished about half the streetlamps, though the snow did its best to compensate and reflect what light there was. 

He came to a crossroad and thought he should have remembered which way to go, but the blanket of white made everything look the same. For a moment, he considered the possibility of just picking a direction and walking, and then retracing his prints in the snow whenever it became apparent that he’d chosen wrong; his salvation came in the form of another silhouette materializing out of the thick-falling flakes down the way. 

The woman hurried towards him but didn’t notice him, too concerned with holding her dress up around her calves and keeping her head down to protect it from cold wind and snow. It was from about twenty feet that he realized she didn’t have a coat and from ten that he realized he knew her. 

He grabbed her arm as she made to pass, not thinking to verbally hail her first, and Shaelle flinched away, like she was ready to fight. Her face was red, but more than that, she’d been crying. 

“What are you doing out here?” Alphonse asked, and then he saw the tears and the red-rimmed eyes and he feared the very worst. Both hands went to her arms, immediately looking for bruises or rips in her dress or anything else to indicate something like a mugging. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she said, voice thick and slow. “I just want to go home.”

Alphonse continued running his hands up her arms, cold and icy pale and wet with melted snow, and he searched her face for any sign of fear. No, just misery. “Where’s your coat?”“I left it at the party. Couldn’t go back for it.” 

She did look dressed for a party -- dress a deep ruby red, lace neckline hem clasping her delicate shoulders. Her hair must have been done nicely before being soaked in the snow. “Alright,” he said. No date tonight. Definitely no nothing tonight. He quickly, deftly undid the buttons on his own thick woolen coat and shrugged it off, then draped it over her shoulders.“Let’s get you home.”

07. — letter(s)

an excerpt, letter from Lady Shaelle Dasyra to Wilham Meruth:You are surely asking yourself what I could have possibly sent such a large package for. Several reasons. The first is that I have a lot of material for you, and the second is that a crate is less likely to get lost in transit. I should rightfully be very cross if sailors lost a bloody crate. Also, don’t you feel quite self-important getting such a big delivery? Are your colleagues not clamoring to see what you’ve received? I’ll let you make up anything you want to tell them and attach my name to it. Don’t make it too nefarious; I have a reputation, you know. 

To the contents. First and most importantly, a draft of a paper I should like to publish. I normally have Mother look over these things but she is woefully uneducated in any areas regarding elementalism and therefore woefully ill-equipped to critique. And so I hand the dagger to you and ask that you do not send it back to me still living. In return for your time, what I hope to be no less than a year’s supply of your awful, awful tea and an equal amount of honey. I know it’s expensive up north, seeing as serys root doesn’t even grow there. Drink it wisely. I am more than happy to send more. 

The crystals and foci are from Mother. Don’t think she’s being sentimental; they’re quite old and she would like an excuse to buy new ones. But I think they should be useful, and if not, do sell them. From the western canyons; good quality, rarely attuned, and particularly uncommon. 

(etc.)

But I would entreat you to restrict your orbit, Ser Meruth. You circle so far from home, and what will you do if I ask you to return, say, perhaps, to serve as an honored guest at my wedding? It would be months before you arrived, years even. You might arrive just in time to see the naming of my firstborn! 

Not that he has proposed. And I won’t supply you with sordid details just yet, not while this affair is in its infancy. Infancy -- ha! I do not have children on the brain and I would scratch this whole paragraph out if I could. 

Come home soon, at any rate. I do miss you and you’re much less funny in print. 

With all my affection and then some,

Lady Shaelle Alihanna Amoniel Erunae Dasyra, Master Wizard of the Luniac, Heir to the Third Advisory to the Crown of Serin Ilyan

18. — eyes

The midwife had shut him out hours ago, telling him in a fairly un-gentle manner that he’d be in the way. Alphonse hadn’t exactly enjoyed being in the room -- seeing his wife cry, seeing her sweaty and red-faced, having her cut half-moon marks into any inch of skin her hands could reach. But being stuck in the hall had been so much worse. Sequestered away where he couldn’t see with his own eyes that she was alright, couldn’t offer any gentle words or a hand to squeeze the circulation out of. He could just ... hear it. A back-and-forth of rehearsed encouragement and cries of pain. 

It was dark and had been for hours when a new participant entered that hellish conversation -- “Just a bit more -- one more --!” and a ragged, clench-jawed shout, and then, and then, cutting through noise he had almost grown accustomed to, tiny, infantile cries. 

Anxiety, over the hours, had turned his legs to jelly. When he scrambled to his feet, he wobbled, just a bit. They left him out there for what felt like another six hours but was probably, in reality, only ten minutes. 

Someone had lit lamps in the room as dusk had turned to night. When last he’d passed that threshold, the room had been brightly lit through the western windows, all harsh shadows and burning orange light. Not so now -- rather dim and intimate, somehow tender. Maybe it was just seeing Shaelle again, after the torturous eternity of the evening, reclined against half a dozen pillows and a tiny head of wispy dark hair peaking out from beneath the blanket covering her chest. 

She looked up to where he appeared in the dark doorway and the raw affection in her face near sent him swooning. One hand slipped from under the cover and she held it out to him in a silent invitation to approach, and he tripped over himself to comply, to take it in both hands and raise it to his lips and press a kiss squarely on each finger. 

“Come here, come sit,” she said, voice more than a little hoarse.

Alphonse first perched on the edge, afraid that she was in a fragile state and would be easily hurt if he got too close, but she pulled on his hand and he slid closer, leaned against those pillows, chin on her bare shoulder. 

Shaelle shifted the cover away from the baby’s face -- their baby’s face -- like she was uncovering some otherworldly wonder to an awed audience. In essence, she was. She pulled her hand from his grip and used it to cup their son’s head as she slid him up further her chest, and bright eyes peered out from under her hand, soothed by mother’s heartbeat in this strange new world.

[brighteyesillusionist]

Seeking Solace

Obadiah really should have checked the tower before he decided to lock Tony in it.

He gets it, he really does. After his parents died, Obie was left to take care of the Kingdom and Tony with it. The Kingdom wasn't really doing well after the attack, and the war that it ignited. It took a lot of Obie's attention and planning and Tony just got in the way. He was a nuisance, bratty and much to young to help. It was easier to lock him away and forget about him. One less thing to worry about and take attention away from the important business of the war and weapons for the army.

Where better to keep a troublesome prince than a tower, right?

Unless that tower had been previously inhabited by a Wizard, that is.

It took Tony less than a day to find the 'secret' stash of grimoires, magic tomes, ingredient stores, and enchanted objects. It's like the old Wizard didn't even really try to hide them. The Cauldron of Plenty was useful though.

His name had been Strange, apparently. Tony still got a kick out of that.

The books were a convenient way to distract himself from his boredom. Some of them were easier to follow than others and it wasn't too long before Tony was casting simple spells and enchanting items.

His first enchanted helper was a broomstick. He knows it's cliche, but honestly the tower was getting dusty and Tony did NOT want to clean it himself. The thing did a pretty crappy job, but it did keep the worst of the dust off the floor at least, even if it kept screwing up Tony's experiments.

He named it Dum-E.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A few years later, the tower was hardly recognizable. A fire demon had taken a liking to Tony and decided to reside in the tower's hearth, giving Tony some much needed companionship. Jarvis was also quite knowledgeable in the Arcane and Tony loved soaking up everything he was willing to teach. The demon had integrated himself so deeply into the tower by that point, that the very stone of it was soaked with his magic.

Dum-E, the idiot, had been joined by two new little helpers. A bucket that kept sloshing water across the floor that Tony called Butterfingers, and a lantern that wouldn't answer to anything other than U. They did their best, really, but they messed it up most of the time. Still, they were some of the first things Tony had attempted to enchant and he loved them.

He spent most of his time reading and working on different things. Some spells gave him more trouble than others, naturally, but he thought he'd finally gotten the hang of the potion he'd been working on when there was an incredibly loud knock on the door.

Tony frowned. He didn't get visitors, really. Obie only came to the tower when he needed something, and that only happened every few months at most, and he had the keys so there was no need to knock.

“Hey, Jarvis?” Tony called. “Do you know who is at the door?”

Jarvis' voice hummed from the stones around him. “I do not, sir.”

Tony's eyebrows rose. “You don't know?”

“It appears that, whoever they are, they carry an item with them that makes it difficult to discern anything about them.” Jarvis' tone was irritable. It wasn't often that Tony asked something he didn't have a specific answer to.

“I guess I should go check it out then.” Tony walked out of his laboratory and shut the hidden doorway behind him. He stepped up to the window placed conveniently above the front door and opened it to look down.

It was raining heavily outside, and there was a single man standing in front of the door, a large staff held in his hand. His clothing was soaked and darkened by the rain so Tony could hardly tell the color of it.

“Hello!” Tony called down. “Can I help you?”

The man looked up, squinting as water poured into his face. “Greetings! I'm afraid I was caught in this dreadful weather unprepared. My mount was startled by the thunder and has run off. I would chase after it, but what with the dark and the rain I'm afraid I would be unsuccessful. Might you have space where I could wait out the storm?”

Tony frowned and looked out at the sky. It really was awful out there, and he wouldn't want to leave someone out in the rain, especially not where there wasn't another shelter for miles. Technically the tower was locked, but Tony had figured out how to open it years ago. A gust of wind blew into his face and the cold water quickly chilled his skin. He wiped off his face quickly and made up his mind. It was utterly miserable out there and he wouldn't leave someone to it if he could help it.

“Of course!” He called down. “Allow me to just come down and unlock the door.”

“Bless you, sir!” The man called up as Tony fastened the window closed once more. He made his way down the tower's spiraling staircase and to the front door.

It was a beautifully wrought entrance, the dark wood carved with grand designs and symbols, etched in silver. He threw his hands out and muttered an ancient spell to release the locks embedded in the design. The silver metal glowed slightly as the doors swung outward to admit Tony's guest.

He sighed and lowered his hands with a smile. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

The man walked through the entrance and grinned. “It is my pleasure.” Tony turned slightly to show the man to the small guest room, but out of the corner of his eye he saw his guest angle his staff to point at him. The tip of it started to glow with a sickly yellow light.

Tony turned to face him and tried to reach for his own power, but the other man released his energy before he had gathered more than a weak shield.

The energy blast hit him square in the chest and Tony was thrown back. He landed against the stone steps with a crack, pain registering from both his front and his back. He leaned back with a groan, his vision already growing black at the edges. His breath was stuck in his lungs and they wouldn't respond to his desperate need for more air.

He saw the man start to walk towards him with a small smile on his face and a dagger in his hand.

“A parting gift, from his majesty.” The man said, leaning over him slightly. “Goodbye, dear prince.”

Tony's eyes widened as the knife was brought to hover directly over him. The blackness was encroaching further and there was nothing he could do to stop the man from plunging it directly into his sternum.

The pain was agonizing and even with the little air left to him, he screamed.

The scream must have alerted his little helpers, or Jarvis had called them, because just as the man was moving to stand up, a little bucket hit him over the head with a resounding crack.

The man swayed for a moment before shaking his head a little and looking around. While his back was turned, Dum-E let loose another crack against his skull with his handle.

The bucket and broom took turns whacking the man over the head before he finally got his hands around Dum-E's handle. Tony watched, frozen, as the man brought the boom up and prepared to bring it down over his knee. Just as he started to bring his arms down, U tipped himself over his head from above, drenching the already soaked man with oil.

He dropped Dum-E to the floor in favor of reaching up to wipe the oil from his face. His eyes were blood-shot and full of anger as he reached for the staff he'd abandoned on the floor.

From up the stairs, Tony heard a whooshing sound. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a wall of flame rushing down the stairs above him. It washed over his form with a tender warmth before it raced forward to engulf the man.

His oil soaked hair and clothing lit immediately and he started screaming. He dropped his staff and ran for the door and the pouring rain outside. As soon as he crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut and glowed again to re-engage the locks.

Tony grinned and reached up to grab at the knife embedded in his chest. He was barely able to suck enough breath into his lungs to offer a small grin.

“Thanks... guys...” He panted. The pain was becoming unbearable now. Liquid fire was burning it's way through his veins and the blackness had almost engulfed his vision. In the final seconds before he closed his eyes, he saw a burning humanoid shape approaching him. The fire reached out to touch his hands and Tony felt a fresh wave of pain overcome him and he allowed himself to fall into blessed oblivion.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tony was surprised when he actually woke up to familiar surroundings.

He was laying on the small cot he kept in his lab, but it had been pushed up right next to the main hearth where Jarvis resided. He looked around, confused.

“What happened?” He groaned and sat up.

“Please, Sir. Be careful.” Jarvis' voice came from the hearth, but it was much weaker than normal. “I can hardly hold back the curse as it is.”

“Curse? Jarvis, what happened? I thought I was.. didn't I?”

“You were dying, Sir.” The quiet response was disconcerting. “Your guest left quite the package for you I'm afraid. It is a combination of an ancient evil that was present in the blighted dagger and the direct curse that striked you before. I can only hold it back for so long.” The last admittance was quieter than the others.

“That's okay, J.” Tony responded equally softly. “Thanks for the save back there, I owe  you one, okay? I can't go till I pay that back, alright?”

Jarvis laughed softly. “It will be a short time for the both of us. In order to delay the magic I tied my essence to your own. When the curse takes you, my own existence will cease as well.”

Tony shook his head. “Okay, yeah. Nope! Neither of us is dying. I just decided right now.” He levered himself painfully up from the cot. “Back to the lab! We're going to fix this Jarvis, okay? You just watch me!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A few months later, another knock sounded at Tony's door. He looked down from the window again, much more cautiously this time, but with an extra confidence that came directly from the soft blue glow emitting from his chest though it was hidden under his clothing.

“Who goes there!” He called down.

A tall man with blond hair and a brightly painted shield with a star in the center looked back up at him.

“Are you the prince of the tower?!” He called back up.

“Depends on who is asking!”

The man gestured to the motley group surrounding him, “We're called the Avengers! We heard you needed rescuing!”

Tony laughed. “No such thing, I'm quite happy up here!”

The man looked surprised. “Really?”

“Yes! No rescuing necessary!”

“Oh, well alright then.” The man frowned slightly. “Is there anything else we can assist you with then?”

Tony grinned. “Well if you'd like to help me take back my kingdom and do some rescuing myself I wouldn't say no. I was about to head out anyway!”

“Sounds like an adventure.”