#and he prompts her to stab him through the heart right this second if she can

[ganondoodle]

recent panel i liked for chapter 2s rough draft (page 22), one of the more chaotic sketches

(comic wip)

[seeingivy]

picnic

sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

(^^make sure you check since this was a double upload and I posted the last one very recently :D)

--

dear head of the cullen clan,  keep evening plans open – im getting off work early and we’re going on a picnic.  coldest regards,  the head of the volturi  (ps. am expecting a very wholehearted appreciation for the fact that it’s coldest regards and not warmest regards, because they are, in fact, vampires and therefore cold. because they don’t have a heart and such.)  (extra ps. this is a link to a shared spotify playlist. i’ll add a song and then you add one. we’ll keep it going.) 

you snort. 

dear aro of the volturi (does he have a last name???),  so much to unpack in one email, yet again. you really know how to keep a girl on her toes.  first and foremost, you are SOOOO ran through. so offended that i wasn’t the person who got to put you on to twilight and whoever it was, I HOEP SHE DIES! if you’re team jacob, you’re a freak.  second, SO VERY FLATTERED that you think i would be carlisle. a little haunting that you think YOU would be aro…but it’s ok cuz former companions to enemies back to lovers in our case would be kind of crazy???  third. done and done. i just added a song so hurry up bc i have like ten other songs i want to add and i am #impatient  see u after work pookie :D,  carlisle cullen  (very appreciative of the cold regards. you are a king among men.) 

his response back is very prompt. 

Never call me pookie again.  (very offended that you think i’d be stupid enough to be team jacob. and direct your murderous rage towards yuuji and my mom, who forced me to watch it in theaters with them.) 

--

you wait for sukuna at the park two blocks down the apartment complex. the sun is hours away from dipping into the horizon, the chilly wind rustling through the trees. you realize now that the red skirt and white sweater might betray you in a few hours but decide that you’ll simply have to steal his jacket when he gets here. 

and you would have already but he’s twenty minutes late.

and while this part of the city is extremely safe, sukuna’s ever constant fear of people attacking you on subway trains and stabbing you in alleyways has instilled an acute fear of strangers in you, which is why you’re gripping the sparkly pink pepper spray he bought you very harshly in your palm right now. 

you think it’s sweet that he bought you a pink one. 

but of course it’s severely ironic that you almost used it on him. 

because he scares the living daylights out of you, by placing his hand around your shoulder from behind. 

“hey. i’m sorry i-” 

“jesus fuck-” 

you instinctively hold the pepper spray up to his face, your hands shaking in front of you. 

“i’ll use it, you pervert!” 

sukuna leans his head to the side, which is when you’re finally able to log that it’s actually him standing in front of you and not a stranger, and you drop your hands in embarrassment. 

“i mean, i’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t doll face but–” 

“oh my god, sukuna. i thought you were trying to rob me!” 

“i’m smarter than that. the only thing inside your purse is lip gloss, which has very little value to me.” sukuna responds, dropping the little basket at his feet and taking the little stalk of flowers out of the top handle. 

“i’ll have you know that it’s actually sold out in every store right now. so you could make bank if you sold it.” 

“don’t tempt me. and for your sake, i’ll accept the apology you didn’t give me for just trying to rob me of my eyesight and for calling me a pervert? i’m getting really tired of the age gap jokes, y/n.” sukuna responds, as he lifts your hands at your sides and places the stalk of flowers in your hand. 

you give him a big smile as you press your nose to the flowers, the scent fresh in your nose. and sukuna props down, setting a billowing white blanket on the ground before he taps the spot next to him and signals for you to sit next to him. 

“who needs eyes?” you joke, as you squeeze his hands and set the flowers down next to the little basket. 

“me, dipshit. how else am i supposed to look at you?” 

you cover your hands with your cheeks as you watch him place all of the little things inside the basket next to you, laying them out perfectly. it’s albeit a weird assortment – two wine glasses, perfectly wrapped sandwiches, a mini-cake, and strawberry lemonade. 

“well, stop perceiving me. this is so weird!” you murmur. 

it’s enough to catch his attention and stop him in his tracks. 

“what?” 

the question makes you pause. and a little embarrassed. it was a little harsh to say while you were joking.

“oh, i mean…i didn’t mean it like that! i was making a joke about perceiving because eyes…vision…and i almost took your vision away! and you perceive with your eyes, because how else would you see…” 

sukuna smiles, before shaking his head, and continuing spilling out the last of the contents – a set of gouache paints and two little small canvases. and he drops to his feet, yanking his shoes off, before sitting flat on the blanket and gesturing for you to join him. 

“there’s no way in hell that was what you meant. but we’ll ignore that for the time being.” sukuna responds, hiking his legs to his chest and gesturing towards the spread he just put out. 

you tilt your head to the side in confusion. 

“you look very pretty today.” sukuna responds. 

“thanks! you too!” 

he narrows his eyes. 

“uh huh. well, pick what we do first. the paint, the sandwiches, or the weird wine glass cake.” 

“the wine glass cake? like from tiktok?” you ask. 

“correct. i’m really bad at…cute dates. so…i did some research.” 

sukuna refuses to look at you. because after admitting it, he’s suddenly busied himself with reading the back of the box of paints, like it’s the most riveting, intriguing thing he’s ever read in his life. 

but the pink flush that’s creeping down his neck betrays him entirely, as you reach forward and push the little box down. and sukuna’s already glaring at you. 

you place your chin on the top of his knees, reaching for one of his hands and smiling. 

“you did research for a date?” 

“you can choke on your spit.” 

you grin. 

“you really know how to turn a girl on.” 

“you’re filthy.” 

you grin. 

“and you’re actually so precious, i–” 

“don’t call me precious, y/n.” he whines, as he reaches forward to flick on your forehead. 

you smile as you sit by his side, tucking the folds of your skirt under your leg as you reach for both of the wine glasses and hand him one. 

“so how humbling was it to have satoru explain all this to you?” you ask. 

he sneers. 

“don’t even ask. he’s like the biggest nuisance i’ve ever met in my life. top ten worst moments of my life.” sukuna responds. 

“i’m flattered you humbled yourself to him for me.” 

“i actually asked suguru. they’re like…two peas in a pod, they can’t do shit without each other. the paints and stuff they gave me and the nice basket too.” 

“that’s sweet of them. remind me to send them something later to thank them.” 

sukuna scoffs. 

“no need. they were more than happy to give it up for you.” 

“ah yes. i hear they’re big fans of this camping bag story. the scouts honor and the fake story we had to tell them makes a lot more sense now.” you respond. 

sukuna rolls his eyes. 

“okay, you know what? sue me. i was like sixteen sleeping next to a girl for the first time. god forbid i enjoyed myself. and i don’t know why they’re all so hyperfixated on that story because it was a very normal thing to assume when you’re asked that question.”  

you snort. 

“and you say you’re not a pervert…” 

sukuna leans forward, his eyes flitting down to his lips before he looks back up at you. and he can tell that you’re in a mood, that you’re trying to push his buttons by annoying him. 

“you know i despise you right?” he whispers. 

you grin, leaning in. 

“is that right?” you whisper back. 

“oh yeah. you irritate me.” 

there isn’t even a shred of earnestness in the words he’s uttering. you know he doesn’t mean them. 

“keep going.” you respond, as he presses a warm kiss to the side of your cheek. 

“you’re a nuisance.” – a kiss to your forehead. 

“an irritation.” – a kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“like a fucking thorn in my side.” – and a kiss to the sweet spot right in your neck and his hand snaking up your thigh, which makes you nearly keel your head back from the sensation. 

you place your hands on his cheek and pull him back, face flushed and his eyes nearly glazed over. 

“are you crazy?” you whisper. 

“what?” he asks. 

“we’re in public, dumbass. you can’t just start trying to rile me up.” 

sukuna leans back, obliging. 

“so you admit it? i was riling you up?” 

“oh, shut up.” 

you reach for the sandwiches and unpeel one for sukuna. before he takes it, he places a tiny white box in your lap. 

you frown. first the fancy date but the jewelry too? 

“sukuna. you didn’t–” 

“just open it. i’m impatient and i’ve been waiting all day. and i actually think you’ll like it. otherwise, you’re ungrateful and rude and you hate me.” sukuna responds. 

you give him a tight lipped smile before you open the little box and actually smile. 

it’s a dainty silver chain – the exact same as sukuna’s from the chain-links, but the build is a little thinner. and right at the center, a little charm of a star. 

you reach forward for his chain, dangling around his collarbone. and surely enough, in addition to the original charm he had of an interlocked circle, there’s a star charm added right next to it. 

“you always reach for it. when you’re talking or when we’re kissing. figured i’d get you your own since you’re such a big fan.” 

“you are so…” 

“perfect? sexy? the father of your children?” 

“i was thinking adorable. can i answer d for all of the above?” you respond. 

sukuna grins. 

“survey says yes, princess.” he responds. 

you yank the chain from the little box and hand it to him, before turning around for him to secure it on you. his fingers tickle against the nape of your neck, accompanied by a warm kiss, before he taps your shoulders to signify that he’s done. 

“you know. you really are perceiving me right now.” you respond. 

“and how’s that?” 

“i know you’re obsessed with me and pay attention to every word i say.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“obviously.” 

you jab at his side. 

“i mean, i know you’re doing this because i mentioned picnics yesterday and always feeling left out. sure you could put two and two together that he never really bought me any nice gifts or anything when i said he ruined my birthday.” 

“okay, captain obvious. and?” 

you shove him once more, before leaning your head against his shoulder. 

“well, i appreciate it. i know the whole…cutesy painting date isn’t your thing. we won’t have to do it again. and that you…you’re trying to make this whole thing special for me.” 

sukuna scoffs. 

“i’m offended. first and foremost, i always like to eat with you. every time i think that there’s no way you can amaze me more, you find another way to spill food on your clothes.” 

“hey! that’s not true.” 

“you already spilled on the blanket. second, this is a very violent way to eat cake. you literally mess up all the layers by doing that and destroy the piping on the cake which i can admit, i am a fan of. and third, i’m going to paint us as worms, which seems enjoyable to me.” 

you curl your nose. 

“worms?” 

“yeah. what were you going to paint?” 

“i don’t know. but it certainly wasn’t going to be worms. like the park or flowers or something.” 

“boring. i’m going to paint us as slimy worms. and because we made it on this date, you’ll have to agree to put it up in the apartment, even if it’s ugly.” 

“sukuna.” you whine. 

“especially if it’s ugly. it’s a testament to our love.” he responds, dramatically placing his hands on  his chest. 

“you know, you’re so right. worms have been a really defining feature of your relationship.” 

sukuna leans forward and presses a quick kiss to your lips and an additional one on your cheek. 

“you just get me, princess!” 

and he breaks the little joke by lifting one of your hands to his lips, and pressing a kiss on all four of your knuckles before pressing your hand to his cheek. 

“and i have to do special things for a special person.” 

you return the gesture, lifting his tattooed fingers to your lips and doing the same. 

“you know…you’re really good at this type of thing.” you murmur. 

“what do you mean?” 

“i mean, being a boyfriend. and…and being supportive about everything. sometimes i feel like i’m trying really hard to be the best but…just comes naturally to you.” you respond. 

sukuna shrugs. 

“don’t know if i’m perfect but…loving you has always come really easy to me. i don’t really have to think twice about it because these are actually just things i want to do for you.” 

you groan. 

“see! that’s what i’m saying! you always just…say sweet things, do sweet things. sometimes i’m convinced i’m not even half deserving of it, just because sometimes i don’t reciprocate that back.” you respond. 

sukuna leans forward. 

“you know, you actually do though.” 

“as if.” you groan. 

sukuna pauses, before leaning his cheek against the tops of his knees and looking out at the expanse of grass in front of you. you follow his line of vision – to the dog running in the distance, the wide, billowing trees, and the little flower truck on the side – which you now realize is where sukuna copped the flowers from earlier. 

“i mean, this type of thing. that we have, or…or the way i act around you. it means a lot to you because, you…you’ve never had this before. right?” 

“yeah.” 

“well, i haven’t had you before. i know you see me as perfect, but…but when you say that i can tell that you don’t mean it the way my mom or…or yuuji think that i’m perfect. in the untouchable way.” 

you lean forward, cupping the side of his face. 

“sukuna. you’re so touchable.” you joke. 

“you’re disgusting.” 

“you love it.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“yeah, i really do. it does actually mean the world to me that you think i’m perfect how i am and don’t think i’m larger than life.” 

“if anything, your ego could be smaller.” 

sukuna leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“and…and even the other day. i know you were acting squirrely and weird when yuuji was near us and heard us bickering, but i was half convinced that you were going to take his side at the end, when he started saying that stuff about me. because it is true and i have acted a certain way in the past…and, you would have every right to agree with him if you wanted to.” 

you frown. 

“no, i wouldn’t. you’ve never treated me like that and i know you’re being earnest when you say these things to me. this would be a very elaborate way to get into my pants if that was what you were trying to do. and i know it’s not.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“that’s what i’m saying. every other person for me has never given me that benefit of the doubt, but you always do. you were the person who thought to tell me that my grandpa died when you all came to get me and you were the one who wasn’t mad at me. the things you do for me are the same, in equal magnitude, as what i do for you. if this makes you feel good, or…or on top of the world, you have to know that’s how you make me feel too. i’m half convinced that you’re basically made for me at this point the way you get everything right on point.” 

you lean forward and press a lingering kiss to his lips. 

“i really think you’re made for me too, ryomen.” 

sukuna groans, dramatically leaning his head back, before nearly pushing you over and peppering kisses to almost every surface on your face. 

“quit fucking saying my name. you have no idea what that does to me.” 

“i mean, i think i have an idea.” 

sukuna clamps his fingers over your mouth, before pressing a few more lingering kisses to your face and pushing off. and subsequently, picks all of the grass out of your hair as you roll your eyes. 

and after that sukuna, admittedly, very aggressively uses the wine glasses to portion off little slices of the cake and makes it a point to finish off yours when you can’t stomach the sweetness. and true to his promise – sukuna paints the two of you as worms, but at the park, stargazing. 

it’s a little silly, the way he paints it. you were expecting it to be more gory or gross, but it’s so corny that it makes you smile. because he draws the two little worms, but distinguishes between the two of you, by swiping some of your pink paint and adding a little ribbon to the one that’s supposed to be you. 

sukuna explains the stars. because before sukuna had dragged you out of that shitty bathroom bar, it’s what megumi and yuuji said in his drunken mess – he had pointed at two little stars and likened them to him and megumi.

and you’re almost positive that at the time, sukuna found it utterly ridiculous. but now, he understood it – the sentiment. that you and sukuna were two little worms, and two stars, and two little flowers too. 

and to his promise, the two of you decide to place the little canvases you drew at the end of the kitchen counter. 

it’s only then that you realize that you have to go the whole ten miles for sukuna the way he had done for you – countless times again. and that if you were going in blind in trying to make something special, you’d have to take a page out of his book and do some research. 

and there was only one person who could really help you, who you’d rather die than humble yourself to than ask for help. 

regardless of that, you still call sammy the next morning.

--

next part linked here

an: they're about to do it. anyways....there is a very real playlist to match the one that they talk about in the fic -- and it matches the way it described in the fic! so it's interleaved, the first song is a song that sukuna would have added, the second one that y/n added, the third sukuna, so on and so forth. it's linked here! happy listening babies

second an: thank you for the love on the last chapter. it makes my heart really warm bc all of that was actually based on a REAL MAN and real things that I have felt/have said to me and just having people comment that they felt seen by it or it made them feel a certain type of way actually made me really happy and so warm. this blog was one of the first things I did after I stopped being really, really sad and i'm glad that i'm able to share a little joy here and there, if that's what this fic is for you. anyways this is long and sappy and gross and actually I just love you all for enduring the ouchies and the sillies with me a little bit 💌

third an: double upload bc yall were so patient with me :D

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @wishmemel @gyros-cum-sock @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani79 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology

[twistyfish]

Oh I don’t know if that’s what you usually write for request but what about MC dying (once again) and just before dying she remembered everything from their past lives and the lads men’s reaction thinking they failed MC again

hi! i tried my best with this one because i’m not caught up on all the lore, so please bear with me. i took it in a slightly different direction

prompt~ mc dying.

content warning for death and violence

Zayne

Zayne groggily rolled over in bed, his outstretched arm bumping into the bedside table. He winced in pain, rubbing his wrist. He picked up his glasses and put them on, sitting up slowly so as not to wake you from what was very clearly a deep sleep, seeing as you weren’t awake yet

He cringed when the mattress squeaked, and his eyes immediately flashed to your still form. You didn’t budge. Good. He gently swept off the covers and stepped into his slippers, brushing his teeth and getting ready for the day.

After a cup of coffee and a banana, Zayne returned to the bedroom to kiss you on the forehead before driving to work.

***

Zayne came back from the hospital and set his things down. He washed his hands and headed to the bedroom, eager to change out of his scrubs. He opened the door and was surprised to see you still in bed.

You hadn’t been showing any signs of feeling down lately, so this was a surprise. Maybe you were taking a nap? He wondered if he should let you sleep.

It was very silent. All he could hear was the distant hum of the air conditioner. He didn’t even hear your usual light snoring.

He walked in front of you and bent down, hesitating before patting your shoulder. He patted it again before shaking you.

Oh, so you were being difficult. He picked up the blanket and threw it off you, revealing the lower half of your face. It was still and pale.

He leaned in closer and realized something very, very critical.

You weren’t breathing.

His heart rate spiked and he immediately pressed his ear against your chest, because maybe he was mistaken. Maybe you were breathing and he just couldn’t hear it very well. Or maybe you had some undiagnosed sleep disorder where you temporarily stopped breathing. Maybe you would wake up gasping for air in a few seconds.

But he didn’t hear or feel any movement at all, so he stabbed his fingers against his phone to dial the ambulance, and told the operator what was happening with a foggy brain. His voice was hardly audible by the end of it. He knew exactly what information they needed, but he couldn’t seem to remember it. Your address, your age, your full name.

Who cared about all of that? That was all useless information. All that he cared about right now was that you were dead. His partner was dead. And he hadn’t been there for her.

Sylus

Gunshots rang out, the noise of bones cracking permeating the air while bulletproof glass broke into a thousand shards. Sylus sprinted through the room and into your destroyed cell.

He hadn’t opted to send Luke and Kieran to bring you home. He had to do it himself. He knew the fuckers wanted him to show up, but he paid no mind. He had to see for himself that you were okay.

But what he saw made his stomach drop into his shoes. You were sitting in the corner of the room, chained to the wall. Your head was lolled onto your shoulder, your eyes gored out and your arms covered in burns. No. No. No no no no nonono-

He fell to his knees with a painful thump. The only thing he could bring himself to do was hold his stomach and vomit up bile. Seeing his lover like that ruined him. It destroyed him, made him want to cry and scream until the Earth was flooded and everyone’s eardrums had burst.

So when one of the men on the floor laughed weakly at Sylus’s grief, he shot without a second thought.

Nobody’s life mattered anymore. The person whose life he cared about wasn’t here anymore.

Rafayel

The air was hot and dry, and you looked beautiful with pearls of sweat dripping from your chin and collecting on your collarbone. You were wearing a flowy green dress and little teardrop earrings.

Rafayel’s eyes were fixed on you, even while you crossed the streets. The smooth curve of your back, your soft, bare arms. You were so undeniably beautiful.

He loved going on walks with you, and he was thrilled that you both had been able to take a week off for holiday. He rarely got to see you in such a light, beachy setting.

It had been around thirty minutes of walking, and you seemed to be getting a little out of breath. This surprised him, because your job consisted of a lot of movement and high energy combat.

“You’re not getting out of shape, are you Ms. Bodyguard?” He teased. “How are you gonna protect me if walking around gets you breathless?”

Your shallow breaths continued, which was a little concerning.

He stopped walking. “Hey. Is everything okay?” He asked, concerned now.

You shook your head. “I don’t feel good.” Your breaths were getting quicker and shallower, and you doubled over. Your hands were on your knees, and you gagged. Rafayel bent down next to you, and before he knew it you were swaying and then you had fallen. He barely caught your head as you went down, his knuckles scraping the pavement.

“__? Hey! Hey, hey, wake up!” He was rapidly tapping your cheek, praying to whatever deities were out there that you would get up and walk it off.

“We need help! Please, my girlfriend is sick! We need help!” He shouted. A few locals rushed over and called for help, but he was inconsolable.

After emergency surgery and two days in the hospital, he was informed that you were braindead. He didn’t say anything. He booked a flight home and sold all his paintings.

He never painted anything again.

Xavier

No. Not this. Anything but this. His shaking hand brushed bloody, matted hair out of your face.

“Stay calm. Backup is here. I’m going to take you to get medical attention,” he said in a voice that was calmer than he felt.

“Xavier.”

“Don’t talk, you’re expending unnecessary energy.”

“Xavier, I’m not going to make it.”

“Don’t fucking say that.” His facade was cracking.

“I love you. I should have said it before, but I love you so much.”

“__, please-,”

“I’m so grateful that you’re my partner. You’ve been there for me through everything and I don’t want this to be it for you.”

“No.” His voice was small, like he was pleading.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was already breathy and shrinking in volume. But the intensity was the same. The character was constant. You would die a fighter.

“No, please, I’m not ready. I can’t do this without you,” he choked, pressure building up in his nose. His eyes started leaking, and he felt nauseous.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And that was the last thing you heard. Xavier pressed his forehead into your chest, and it killed him when he felt no rising or falling. It was just him and the night.

He looked up at the stars, and he swore he saw your face.

[americas-ass-writing]

Written in the stars

Steve Rogers x reader

Words: 2.7k

Summary: The internet was a wonderful, helpful thing until it wasn't. Until one misstep, one accident gets spread around and ruins your life. Or does it lead you where you're meant to be?

Warnings: none? Stan Lee cameo maybe, me sucking at writing dialogue

A/N: This was written for @lunarbuck Soulmate Au Writing Challenge! I had the prompt "You and your soulmate share matching tattoos." I hope you enjoy it!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Gif by me

The sound of rain against your window is the first thing you register as you wake up. The sounds of your street in New York slowly adding themselves in. You let out a yawn and stretch. These were the best days. Waking up to the rain serenading you on your day off. You have nowhere to be, no plans, just a day for yourself. So you lay in bed a bit longer, just listening to the sounds.

Once you get up, you start your day. A nice warm shower, comfy clothes and breakfast with your favourite tea. Your phone dings with the daily reminder of your best friend to leave your apartment today so you'd have a chance finding your soulmate. You roll your eyes. She found hers in high school - lucky bitch. The matching tattoo of a weird shaped heart, that to you looked more like a bean, on her ankle sealed her fait to the high school jock. You were scared for her at first but he turned out to be the best partner she could ever have wished for. You on the other hand weren't so lucky. The little star constellation on your shoulder blade hasn't met it's match yet and you weren't sure if it ever would. With a sigh you put down your mug and text her back, promising you'd leave the house if the rain stopped.

The internet was a wonderful, helpful thing until it wasn't. Until one misstep, one accident gets spread around and ruins your life.

Steve was always good at hiding his soulmate mark. Back in the 40s when he was sickly he partially did it because dressing warm enough prevented him from getting sick and to protect whatever dame had the matching mark on her shoulder from having him as soulmate. As soon as he became Captain America he solely did it so no one would lead him on by pretending to be his soulmate. He was glad his soulmark was on his shoulder blade, easy to hide under the shirts he wore. Even though he was hiding it he couldn't help the disappointment that in all his years on this planet he hasn't even had a slightest tickle of the feeling of his soulmate being close to him.

But then his years of hiding were ruined by a very public mission. He was doing his best to lead his team and make sure they were all safe. He was in his element until a Hydra agent attacked him with a knife. This happened way too often these days and every time Howard Stark's voice mocks him in his mind. "Hydra won't attack you with pocket knives." Yeah right.

Steve was quick to react and instead of stabbing him in his shoulder all the attacker did was rip open his suit. This shouldn't happen this easily, maybe it wasn't a common pocket knife and Howard was right after all. Steve knocked him to the floor and made sure the man was unconscious. He didn't even think twice about the rip in his suit before he went back to the mission. He should have... He should have took a damn second to check then he wouldn't be stuck in the Tower.

The rip exposed his soulmark. And of course some onlooker took a picture that spread like wildfire on the internet. Promptly the Tower was overrun by people claiming they're his soulmate. His morning runs through central park were turning into him being hunted down by them too.

When the first woman came he had hope. He really thought that maybe, just maybe the stupid mistake would bring him his soulmate but the feeling never came... Nothing ever snapped into place. He didn't have the feeling.

His soulmark soon graced the shoulder blades of thousands of people like some stupid fashion accessory which caused him to swear off his soulmate and accepted a life of being alone. He just hoped that this hype around his mark would soon die down.

His fists hit the punching bag in front of him hard. The bag swinging back and forth wildly as he tried to let his pent up anger out. His usual sparring partners tapped out a few days ago since he got too cruel during it, not pulling his punches anymore. He understood, he didn't want to hurt them but he couldn't help himself but be disappointed. Those social interactions flew out the window too which didn't help him with feeling so alone.

"We gotta get him out of the tower... He's been cooped up for two weeks now." Natasha mumured to the fellow assassin next to her as they both watched their friend. "Sam and me tried... Either we get overrun immediately or he refuses to leave the tower." Bucky answered, his arms crossed. He felt for his friend, he deserves to find his soulmate and live happily ever after with them. "Maybe we can fly him out to Clint's farm?" He added only to be met with a snort of the redhead next to him. "Yeah he'd love that. Clint would make him take care of the chickens. Imagine all the pictures of him and Cap Jr." She smirked at the image of Steve holding up his chicken counterpart in several pictures.

Just as Bucky was about to answer their little conversation got interrupted by the bag hitting the floor and Steve marching or rather stomping off to get a new one.

"I have a plan to buy you guys some time" the redhead said after a moment of silence and beckoned her friend to follow her.

Picking at his cap and the borrowed clothes, Steve sends Nat a sceptical look. "This isn't going to work..." He sighs and sits down. His face falls into the palms of his hands. Soon enough there are soft strokes on his back. "Yes it will work. You just gotta be positive for once, Rogers" she says with an encouraging smile. "Sam and Bucky are currently distracting the masses, making them fill out forms so you can find your soulmate. All you gotta do is take the back exit and vanish into the crowds. It's a simple mission." Nat ever the optimist. There was so many things that could go wrong with this plan. Steve lifts a sceptical eyebrow at her.

"Look it's either this or Bucky's plan that involves a horrible granny dress and a wig. So choose your poison, Cap" she smirks at his furrowed eyebrows and claps on his shoulder. "That's what I thought. Let's get you out of here." With a smile she beckons him to follow her. They walk through the hallways and take the stairs down to the lobby. Instead of taking the usual door Natasha leads him around the corner and through some storage rooms before they stop in front of a door.

"Alright, sunglasses on. I texted you the code to get back into this door but I expect you to not use it before lunchtime." Like a mother scolding her child she points a finger at him. "The door leads to the back alley. The security guard has been informed that you'd take this way so no need to worry. Just make a swift exit from the alley into the crowds. Keep your head down, cap and sunglasses on, ok?" Steve nods at that and hugs her. "Thank you" he whispers and before she can answer he slips out of the door.

He nods to Stan the security guard, a nice old man that he often talked about art with, and slips out of the alley into the masses. To his surprise everyone's minding their own business and soon he's a block away from the tower. His shoulders relax and he lets out a breath. The rain probably helped him stay unrecognised.

Much to your dismay the rain stops after a few hours and you have to keep your promise. You sigh and get dressed to leave your apartment. Maybe a coffee in the park wouldn't be so bad. The park near your apartment always was empty on rainy days, except for a few people walking their dogs. So you could still enjoy your day without too many people around you. Once you're all dressed you grab your bag and an umbrella, just to be safe, before you leave. Your feet carry you to the little cafe at the end of your street. You weren't surprised with how busy it was. People would come here to escape the cloudy skies, to study, to meet others or to simply just get coffee. You weren't bothered by the masses though since it was your plan all along to get your order to go and sit in the park.

With your drink and snack in hand you enter the park a little while later. It wasn't big but still beautiful. You make your way to your favorite spot, a little bridge over the lake that housed two benches. It was a quiet and beautiful spot and you're were sure no one would hog the benches today. Well you were wrong. As you approach you see one of the benches taken by a tall stranger with a sketchpad. He seemed relaxed as his hand moved the pencil over the paper. His cap and hunched over form hid his face from your view but you didn't mind. Something inside you told you he was safe and even pulled you a bit closer to him. It's a weird feeling but you chalk it off to the two of you just doing the same thing - trying to enjoy the silence in the park.

You sit down on the bench across from him and take in the nature. You don't even notice his surprised face when he looks up and sees someone across from him. Or when he absent mindly scratches his shoulder. Or when his lips pull into a small smile at the added person in his sketch. You sit in silence for a while, trying to ignore your itchy shoulder, occasionally stealing a glance of the handsome stranger until he stands up and approaches you. Your heart beats faster as you look up at him. Why was he approaching you? Was he not the nice strange...

"Here..." He holds out a piece of paper to you with a soft smile on his face. Fuck even his voice was handsome. You hesitate for a second before you softly take it from him, which just makes his smile grow wider. Your eyes land on his sketch of the park... the lake, the trees, the flowers and you... You on the bench with your drink in hand, smiling as you take in the nature. It's breathtakingly beautiful. Your surprised eyes find his and you're met by a bashful smile. "I uh... It's a thank you..." He scratches his neck, his face blushing as he tries to avoid your eyes. "A thank you?" You ask confused, the small itch in your shoulder growing. You look up at him. Why would he thank you for sitting across from him?

"Yeah... The last week's... Have been crazy and you're the first person who treats me... normal?" He fumbles with his hands as your confusion just grows, brows knitted together. "My soulmark was released to the public after a mission and so many people got it as a tattoo and they hunted me down on my jogs and they waited for me everywhere and I was stuck in the tower and my friends wouldn't even spar with me and I felt so alone and when I was finally able to sneak out and spend some time outside you didn't even lift an eyebrow at Captain America sitting across from you so thank you" he rambles and your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. You didn't even recognize him. Not in casual clothes that seem a bit too big for him. He nervously fumbles with his hands again at your silence. "I..." "See I even signed it. If you don't want to keep it you can sell it" as he tries to point out his signature he grazes your hand with his fingers and both of you wince. The blinding pain in your shoulder was gone within a second but it was replaced with warmth. As your eyes meet his you realize it wasn't just you who feels it. His hand is still on his shoulder as he looks at you with wide eyes and his beautiful lips apart.

"Please tell me you felt that too..." He whispers, his voice almost breaking. You nod as answer and continue to stare at him. He lets his hand fall and gets on his knees in front of you, his eyes stare in yours so desperate you want to wrap him up in a hug and blanket and protect him from the world.

"I didn't even recognize you" is all you bring out and he laughs. A beautiful melodic laugh as his hands softly grab your free one. Thousands of little butterflies spread in your body, the tingly sensation wandering through you until it reaches your soulmark. "I'm pretty sure you have a little constellation of stars on your shoulder" the blonde still kneeling in front of you says with a smile that's brighter than the sun. You chuckle and bite your lower lip. "What makes you think so?" You tease. He licks his lips and squeezes your hand softly. "Because I have the same" he whispers as if it's a secret for just the two of you and maybe just maybe it would be if he would have used his brain a few weeks back.

You stare at each other for a while longer till the rain starts again. "Shoot! I have a cap you can wear uh..." The Adonis in front of you gets up and hurries over to his bench to get his things. You chuckle as he comes back and pull out your umbrella. "We can just share this and sit for a while longer" you suggest as you open it. He stops for a second but then smiles easily as he plops down next to you and offers to hold it.

You spend the afternoon talking, smiling and laughing. The conversation flowed easy and Steve even gave you a peek at his mark which was to no one's surprise the one you have too. Thus followed a lot of star related jokes from Steve. You laughed at every adorable pun and that seemed to spur him on even more. His eyes shining brighter with every laugh or giggle you gifted him, almost like the star littered night sky was trapped in them.

When the sun started to set Steve walked you home. He insisted that he did so because he wanted to make sure you're safe. You agreed, that was obviously the reason. Not the two of you wanting to spend more time together. And him holding your hand obviously was for keeping you safe too. And the kiss that you pressed on his lips when you arrived was definitely just a thank you. And the promise to see each other again after exchanging numbers was just part of your extensive security plan.

Steve slips into the tower through the door in the alleyway. He smiles at Stan before he takes the stairs, two steps at a time. He has never felt this happy and carefree before. He found his soulmate and you were the most beautiful and kind and amazing human being he knows. As he enters the common area he finds Bucky and Sam in front of a stack of paper and Natasha enjoying their aggregation.

"What's going on here?" Steve asks, his left eyebrow lifted. He grabs some water from the fridge and walks over to his friends. "It's all the soulmate applications that were filled out. We're going through them to see if maybe one of them is actually your soulmate." Sam explains and holds up one of the filled out forms. Steve smile widens. "But most of them are so obnoxious. Like this one" Bucky holds up another form. "I'm meant to be yours even if I had to get the soulmark tattooed." He reads, his frown deepening. Steve just laughs and takes the stack in front of his friends. He throws the stack in the recycling bin, much to the outrage of Bucky and Sam. He takes a sip from his water before the smile finds his lips again. "Well... Thank you for doing all this work but it was unnecessary. I found her and she's pretty amazing." His smile widens at the shocked faces of his friends.

"Excuse me, what?! You walk in here like nothing happened and then out of nowhere drop that bomb on us?!" Sam cries out. Steve chuckles which just seems to anger his friends even more. "Oh I'll hand your ass to you in tomorrow's sparring session!" Bucky promises as Steve skillfully avoids him. Finally Natasha just gets up and hugs him. "I'm happy for you. You deserve it, Cap." She says sincerely. "I hope you know that I'm doing a background check on her." Steve chuckles but hugs her back. "And that you're gonna break poor Clint's heart by not visiting him on his farm." Steve's laugh turns into a snort. "You mean I'm making him really happy because he now has an excuse to buy a new chicken? Can't have Cap Jr. without his soulmate. And I'm pretty sure she'll love the chicken once I take her for a visit." Natasha smiles fondly before she punches his shoulder slightly and leaves him to Sam and Bucky's complaining and investigations.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hello! I’m not sure if this has been requested yet. But could I request an Ethan Landry imagine with the prompts 1 & 4. “How could you betray me like that?’’ & “I’m not gonna let you get hurt.’’ Could the reader be Gale and Dewey’s daughter too? Please and thank you!

I've been waiting for a request that could fit this scene idea that I had and this one was perfect!!

my taglists are here  + you can requests here at any time

—

Your eyes welled with tears as the ghostface on detective Bailey’s right took off their mask, revealing the face of your boyfriend.

‘’No,’’ you cried, barely audible.

The ghostface reveals are known to be shocking, but this — you did not see this coming. Ethan had always been sweet, loving and awkward. He was the perfect golden retriever boyfriend. You really thought you had him figured out.

Yet, here he was, black robe on and bloody knife in his hand after stabbing his roommate to an imminent death.

You felt sick to your stomach. This couldn’t be happening.

You were starting to believe that your life was cursed. You were the daughter of two survivors of the original Woodsboro massacre, it would make sense. Cursed by the bloodline.

Would this ever stop? Or were you destined to die by the knife of a masked killer? You were so sick of these fucking ghostfaces. One of them had taken your father’s life last year. Now, your mother was severely injured and one of the killers turned out to be the guy you were in love with? Your father was right — never trust the love interest.

Beside you, Tara was frowning at who she thought was her friend. How could he have done this to Chad?

Sam’s attention shifted to the second ghostface that had yet to reveal himself. Please don’t be Danny, she silently begged. She had gone through this once, she didn’t want to be betrayed the same way again. She would probably go ballistic if the second ghostface revealed to be Danny.

Everyone was on the edge as the remaining ghostface removed their mask.

Quinn.

‘’Hey roomies,’’ she greeted with a smile. ‘’Didn’t see that one coming, did you?’’

‘’Because we thought you died,’’ Tara said, deeply confused.

‘’Yeah, well it was a way to get off the suspects list.’’

Detective Bailey and Quinn went on about how they faked her death, but you weren’t listening. Your attention focussed on the boy who completely shattered your heart.

“How could you betray me like that?’’ you said as a tear slipped down your cheek, looking right at Ethan.

His eyes were filled with guilt and regret, but you didn’t put your guard down. You couldn’t let yourself be fooled by him — not again.

‘’I’m sorry, baby.’’ Ethan’s voice had shifted to the soft one he used with you, dropping the ghostface act. He made a step to you, but before he could reach you, Quinn did and held her knife against your throat.

You gasped and went completely still in Quinn’s hold, your life one move away from ending.

Rage filled Ethan, glaring at his killing partner. ‘’Don’t touch her!’’ he warned, pointing his knife at Quinn. ‘’She has nothing to do with this.’’

‘’Uh-uh. Come any closer and I’ll kill her,’’ the ginger haired girl defied, tightening her hold on your frightened figure.

Quinn’s threat was not an empty one and Ethan knew. She didn’t care about you or your life.

‘’Falling for the enemy. God, you’re such an idiot!’’

You begged Ethan for help with your eyes, the fear in his mirroring yours.

Suddenly, the sound of a gunshot echoed in the theater and you saw Kirby, back on her feet, firing at Quinn. The bullet hit her shoulder and fell back from the impact, just enough to allow you to slip from her grapes and flee with Sam and Tara as Quinn cursed from the pain.

The theater was large, so you separated. Sam took Tara's hand and dragged her in one direction and you took the other. It would have been smart if there weren't three killers, but staying together made you a bigger target. There wasn’t really a smarter plan, they both sucked.

You pushed a door and took a left, hoping to find a room to lock yourself in, but instead ending up in a long hallway that was a deadend. Fuck. If any of the killers found you, you would be doomed.

You leaned against the wall, catching your breath for a short moment as you asked yourself what your mom would do in your situation. She’s Gale Weathers, she’s intelligent and resourceful — she always finds a solution.

During your thinking, a hand covered your mouth.

By elimination, it wasn’t Quinn — she would have stabbed you immediately. It also couldn’t be detective Bailey because all the man could do was use a gun.

Your eyes widened in fear, thinking this was your moment, but instead you heard Ethan’s voice.

‘’It’s me.’’

A sound that should reassure you and make you feel safe instead made fear rise in your chest.

You pushed his hand off you. ‘’Don’t touch me.’’

Your words hurt like a dagger to the heart. You were scared of him.

He raised his hands in surrender. ‘’I know you're scared of me right now—’’

‘’You murdered people, Ethan. You...you stabbed my mom and killed her boyfriend.’’

‘’That wasn't me! It was Quinn,’’ he exclaimed, quickly innocenting himself. ‘’I could never do this to you.’’

His eyes were pleading that you would believe him, but to which extent had he put an act on?

‘’Was any of it real? You and I?’’

Tears filled your eyes again as flashes of the time spent with him hit you. All the nights watching movies cuddled on his bed, the study sessions that turned into making out and the softest smiles he gave you. The intimate moment spent beneath the sheets. Helping him tape his strange knight costume for the Halloween party because it kept falling apart. When he comforted you after the attack at Sam and Tara’s apartment or accompanied you to the hospital when your mom got stabbed numerous times. You had cried into his chest, wrapped in the protection of his strong arms while the doctors were taking care of your mom.

‘’Yes!’’ he affirmed, coming close but you stepped back, making his heart ache. ‘’Everything between us is real, I promise. You're the only good thing in my life I've ever known. The only person I’ve ever loved.’’ He was pouring his heart to you, not caring if he sounded desperate.

There was nothing he wouldn’t do to get your forgiveness. Hell, he would get on his fucking knees and beg if needed.

‘’And I believe that.’’ You put a hand on his face gently, feeling his baby-soft skin. ‘’I love you, Ethan. I love you, but I can't forgive you. You…you killed Anika and Chad.’’

‘’I had to! My dad— He made me do it.’’ Tears filled Ethan’s eyes. ‘’I-I wanted nothing to do with this.’’

He rarely ever evoked his father — or his family. All he had said to you was that he constantly had to fight to gain his father's love and approval because he wasn't the favorite son. Was this why he participated in his father's revenge plan?

Your heart ached for the boy who begged for his father’s attention and love, but it didn’t change anything to the fact that Ethan had killed in cold blood two people who called him a friend.

‘’I’m sorry.’’ Your hand slipped from his face, getting flashes of Anika’s body falling from the ladder and hitting the ground. ‘’You’ve gone too far. I can’t—’’

‘’I’m sorry. For Chad and Anika and all the people I’ve hurt.’’

‘’Sorry is not gonna bring them back.’’

Ethan didn’t say anything. Sometimes, silence is best.

‘’I’m still gonna keep my promise.’’

You drew your eyebrows together. ‘’What promise?’’

‘’To protect you. It doesn’t matter if you hate me, you’re not going down tonight.’’ He rested his forehead against yours, looking right into your eyes as he promised. ‘’I'm not gonna let you get hurt. Ever.’’

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog 

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713​  @marzipaanz

[ashwhowrites]

Hi! Your writing has always been one of my favorites. I was reading through the angst prompts and I was wondering if you could combine some?

38, 39, and 4z

Thank you for taking the time to read this!

- anonymous

~~~

Thank you so much! You can of course combine as many as you want!

Fair warning ⚠️- you request angst so it will not have a happy ending:)

“They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, but my heart just became numb.”

“The worst part was that I saw it coming, I knew you’d hurt me, hurt us, but I still kept you around.”

“So none of it was real? You didn’t mean any of it?”

Eddie and Y/N married young. Eddie wanted to be a rockstar and tour the world. And he wanted his wife by his side. He loved to brag to his band about how hot his wife was and she loved to shove her ring in groupies faces.

Together they got thrown into life of parties, drugs, sex, and alcohol. They were filled with passion, lust, and love.

The real world came knocking in when she held a positive pregnancy test. The couple couldn't have been more excited. They were young, still in their 20s but they knew they could handle this. They were going to be a real family.

~~

When their baby girl was born, Eddie continued to tour the world. She was home with their baby girl, realizing being a mom is her new dream. She loved holding their baby, it was a reminder of what her and Eddie made out of love.

She didn't mind the late night feedings because Eddie would come strolling in from the airport. He would come home every second he could. Their baby was a total daddy's girl. Always yanking Eddie's hair with her chubby hands and giggling.

Their family may have been different but it was real and strong.

Until it wasn't

~~

Their baby girl was around a year old now. As Y/N planned her birthday party, she reflected on how so much has changed.

When Ella was around six months old, Eddie began to change. He didn't call as much anymore when he was on tour. And when he was home he was at the studio or bars with his band.

She hated even when he was home, she was raising Ella on her own.

Ella who was a perfectly curly haired and big brown eyed baby, the love of her life - Eddie also of course. Every time she saw her, she saw him and it felt like a stab in her heart.

Ever since Ella hit that six month mark, he stopped desiring Y/N. He used to be horny around the clock and now she barely gets a kiss out of him. She tried many times to grind herself on his lap, but he'd shrug her off. He's too tired from the studio. Or it's weird to do with the baby a few feet away.

She was getting frustrated. She didn't know where her husband randomly disappeared. The body she sleeps next to was cold and uncomfortable, nothing like what her Eddie was like.

She knew something was wrong and she feared the worst. He found someone else on that damn tour. He found someone else while she took care of their baby. She just needed to confront him to confirm it.

~~

The party was going well. She barely has seen Eddie, the second the clock stroke 1 he was off in the backyard with a beer talking to Steve. He looked so carefree and happy. It's been too long since she saw that.

She was cleaning Ella up when she heard a knock on the door. With the whole party outside, she was the only one available to open it. She placed Ella on her hip and ran to the door.

As she opened it she didn't know who she was looking at.

A girl about her age, blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes, and a smile.

"Hi! How can I help you?" Y/N doesn't recognize her so she definitely doesn't think she invited her, maybe Eddie did?

"does Eddie muson live here?" Her thoughts were confirmed, she was Eddie's guest.

"yes come on in! I'll go grab him for you." The girl smiled and walked in.

She quickly walked to the backyard to find her husband, "Eddie! A guest is here for you."

Eddie looked up when he heard his name. He gave a quick be right back to Steve and walked over to the house.

"who is it?" He asked as he stepped into the house, kissing Ella on her nose as he walked by.

"not sure. Some girl." She answered as they walked to the front door.

~~

Eddie felt his blood run cold when he saw her. He was supposed to never see her again, that was the deal.

"Eddie?" His head turned to his wife, holding their gorgeous baby, a confused look on her face.

" can you give me a second baby?" He asked, she looked at him and the girl. He felt sick, he prayed she wasn't connecting this. She nodded slowly and walked to the backyard. Once she was out of sight his eyes went back to her.

"what the fuck are you doing here?" He asked, he didn't care if he sounded harsh. She was breaking their deal.

"Relax Eddie, I'm not here to help you cheat on your wife again." She giggled like it was funny.

Eddie felt steam running out his ears. He felt the sting of guilt when he was reminded of his adultery. He tried to forget it. Drown it in alcohol, wash it out with his regret. But it always survived and punched him in the gut when he'd look at Y/N.

"that's not fucking funny. You need to leave." He began to step towards her, leading her to the door.

"Look Mr. Munson, I came here for a reason. I want to make another deal." He hated the way she smirked. She had something planned. He looked over his shoulder, they were still alone.

"what is it?" He asked, anything to get her the fuck out of his child's birthday party.

" Pay me $1,000 or I'll rat you out to every publicist I can find. Tell them all about our secret affair on your tour bus. What would your wife think of you? Knowing she was feeding your baby while you pounded into another girls pu-"

"Shut your god damn mouth." Eddie practically growled at her. He knew he fucked up the moment his eyes landed on her. And it was a mistake that kept following him around.

He wrote the check and slammed the door behind her. He could feel sobs in the back of his throat. His forehead was against the door as he sobbed against it.

The guilt has been eating him alive ever since. He couldn't kiss his wife knowing what he did to her. He couldn't make love to her when he broke their vows.

She was an amazing wife and mother. And he was a deadbeat husband and father.

A hand touched his shoulder and he jumped. Quickly wiping his eyes and turning around.

"are you okay baby?" Seeing her worried gaze, soft voice, and wedding ring beam in the sunlight, he broke all over again.

"I'm so fucking sorry." He dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around her stomach. He was sobbing into her. Every ounce of guilt and regret was running out of his body. He mumbled against her stomach, the same stomach where she carried their baby. She gave him a family. They created it together and he was going to destroy it with his own hands.

~~

Y/N had a feeling of what was going on. She wasn't dumb. She ran her hands through his hair as he sobbed into her. Silent tears were running down her cheeks. She was biting her lip so hard to not let sobs break through.

"We'll talk after the party, okay? Right now our daughter is about to try to blow out candles." She tried to laugh but it came out as a choked cry. She yanked herself away, composed herself and went to the backyard. A big fake smile plastered on her face.

~~

Eddie felt sick to his stomach as the last guest left. He couldn't run from this anymore. He knew she knew. And they both knew there's a good chance they'll never be the same again.

"When did you meet her?" She sat on the couch, holding herself. She knew this conversation was going to be hard but they needed to have it.

"Six months ago." He choked out. He felt like he cried everything out of him but looking at her, sitting so far away, he felt another round of tears coming.

"I thought so. That's when you got weird." She sighed. She placed her head in her hands. Anxiety filling her with her next question.

"Was it more than once?"

Without hesitation Eddie answered fast, "no. I swear. It was one stupid night and I've regretted it since. I'm so sorry."

"oh you regret it? Well that just makes me feel so fucking great. I'm glad after you pulled your dick out of her, you regretted it"

He knew he deserved that blow to his gut. He was prepared to take every hit, he didn't deserve to protect himself.

"I sit here every night, taking care of our daughter. I used to cry myself to sleep when you stopped calling. Then you came home and nothing changed. You were distant and you stopped loving me. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, but my heart just became numb. "

Eddie wanted to punch himself repeatedly with every word she spoke. She sounded so fucking heartbroken. He's been in love with this girl since he was 16 and he's never seen her so fragile and small.

He wanted to speak but his throat was wrapped in barbed wire.

“The worst part was that I saw it coming, I knew you’d hurt me, hurt us, but I still kept you around. I won't lie, I feared you'd cheat on me. Almost every rockstar does it. I fucking hate you so much Edward. I would have never done this to you."

"don't say that please. You don't hate me. I know you love me. I love you so much. I'm so sorry. I love you " he was on his knees again. Kneeling in front of her. His hands shook as he gripped her knees. Trying to choke back his sobs.

"like you loved me? So none of it was real? You didn’t mean any of it? Every night we spent taking care of Ella. You came home and slept in our bed, knowing you were with another woman. If you loved me you wouldn't have CHEATED on me Eddie! You would have stayed faithful. If my love was enough for you, you would have come back home to me and me only."

"please baby, we can make this work. I'll do anything. I'll do therapy. I'll quit the band. I'll never leave again. Please just give me a chance to make this right. You're my wife and the love of my life. Let me fix our family."

"no Eddie. The second you went home with her was the second you picked her over your family. I'm not going to forgive you. There's nothing you can do to take this pain away. I think it'll forever be broken because of you. I love you so much and I can't believe you ruined this for us. We could have really made it far."

He was shaking his head. He wanted to block out her words. He was reaching the finish line, he was doing everything in his power to glue his shoes to the ground. He didn't want to keep moving forward. He didn't want to reach the end.

"You can sleep on the couch tonight. Tomorrow we'll discuss divorce and moving arrangements."

It took every ounce of strength in her to stand up and pull away from him. She leaned down to kiss his head. She inhaled his scent one last time. With a deep breath she walked to their bedroom. She saw Ella sleeping soundly in her crib.

How did her perfect family get destroyed so fast?

[aheckinmess]

The Tiger Tango [Aizawa] (Angst)

(One-shot 21/? in a collection of My Hero Academia one-shots posted regularly on Saturdays - and sometimes Sundays.)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Shouta Aizawa, Shota Aizawa, Eraserhead, Original Female Character(s), Ichijiku Aoki, Tigress, OC Considers Her Inner Self to Be a Tiger, Tragically This Tiger Got Kidnapped by the League, Because What Else Are You Gonna Do on a Saturday?, Protective Eraserhead, You Can See Endeavor in this Prompt if You Squint, Spinner Mentioned, Shigaraki is a Lil Bitch, But We Love Him Anyway, Also We Catch Him in the Feels, It Might be for Less Than Half a Second, But We Did It, Angsty Angst, Angst

Word Count: 1,625 words

Summary: Ichijiku has been trapped by the League for several days, and Shigaraki finally decides to hit her where it hurts. Will she end up losing herself to stay alive? Or will everything she loves become reduced to ash?

Ichijiku (Tigress)

My ribs ache as Spinner’s foot connects with it. There’s a resounding pop and I grit my teeth to keep from screaming. They can’t know the extent of my quirk. They know that my quirk is multi-faceted, but they don’t know what I can do aside from heal. I’m determined that’s how it will stay.

“You’re quite stubborn, aren’t you?” A familiar voice crackles. I instantly feel the need to clear my throat just listening to it. “No wonder Eraserhead hasn’t come to save you, yet. I’d be tired of the bullshit too.” 

I know what he’s trying to do, and it’s working. I refuse to retaliate, but I can’t deny the psychological blow that he delivers to me. It makes it harder to breathe, and exacerbates the pain rippling through my broken ribs. Tch, this guy’s right. You’re more trouble than you’re worth.

“Do you think he’s throwing a party?” Shigaraki continues, walking around me slowly as I flop onto my good side and grit my teeth. I hold my injured side and close my eyes as I’m forced to listen to him. “I bet the second you were gone he let out a sigh of relief that he didn’t have to deal with you anymore. No need to put up with your damn stubbornness, right? Doesn’t that piss you off?” 

No. I think. No, that hurts more than it pisses me off.

“Doesn’t it just rip you apart? Make you want to get revenge?”

Maybe a part of me…but I could never hurt Shouta. You don’t seem to understand that. I open my eyes and look at him with all the compassion my squishy heart can manage. Who hurt you?

Shock colors Shigaraki’s face and suddenly his foot connects with my face. I nearly yelp, but grit my teeth and swallow every sound trying to escape. I can’t afford to be weak right now.

“DON’T PITY ME!” He growls out, and I realize I’ve struck a nerve. Interesting. “Where were the heroes at when I was wandering the streets alone, huh?! What good did wanting pity do for me? No. You make me sick.” Another kick and my nose throbs. It starts running and I’m pretty sure it’s not from allergies. Especially from the rusty smell.

I whimper and wrap my arm around my waist, trying to hold myself together. I inhale sharply as he continues his psychological tirade. 

“God, I hope Eraser is at home laughing about all of the times he nearly threw you straight into our laps. That pitiful look really pisses me off; I bet it made him want to beat the shit out of you.” Another kick comes but this one is to my shoulder and searing pain ripples through it. My muscles ripple as I withhold a scream. “Though you’re not bad looking. That’s gotta be the only reason someone as cool as Eraser kept you around. You’d be amazed how much one will put up with for some good sex.” Oh, like you’d know, huh, Butterface? 

He nearly breaks me. All of these comments are illogical but nonetheless arrows stabbing directly into my heart. Stop it…I know Shouta deserves better but I’m trying my best. A tear threatens to fall down my cheek. No! Don’t you do it! You’ll give him what he wants! 

“Worthless. kick Disgusting! kick Why would he ever want you?! How’d you manage to convince yourself of that, huh?” He suddenly has his hand around my neck, a single finger disconnected from the others. “I bet I could disintegrate you to ash right now and he’d thank me for it.” He sneers.

My nose quivers and I stare directly at him. No matter how hard I try, I can’t find it in my heart to hate him. Not from the look on his face. Who hurt you? Is that why you hurt others? This isn’t how to fix it! 

“What do you think about that, Ichijiku?” His voice rumbles low and his eyes look wild, feral.

My heart skips as I realize something. He’s a tiger too. There’s no mistaking it. The crazy, feral gleam sets it off. Part of me yearns to reach out and squeeze him in a hug, even if it means my imminent demise.

You can’t let your guard down. Especially around a tiger. Answer him before you’re hurt again. How do we appeal to him? 

“I think…” I look up at him with glassiness in my eyes. “I think…I probably deserve it.” I whisper gently, gauging how he responds to it. His eyes soften just barely, but it’s something. “I think given how much of a fuck-up I am, he should thank you for it.”

“Heh,” He lets me go and I’m dropped to my knees. I exhale shakily as I look down, letting my hair curtain around me. “You’d fit right in here, you know, Tiger? We’re all a bunch of fuck-ups in this place.”

I imagine that’s his next course of action, to try and bribe or bargain with me to join the League. My thoughts are confirmed as he puts a hand under my chin to make me look at him. 

“Do you see this scar over my eye? The one over my lip?” He makes me look directly at him. On the surface, most might find him decrepit and repulsive, but I can only frown at the sight of so many scars. I nod, and he continues. “Touch them.”

I hesitate. His hand goes back around my throat, his eyes feral and…desperate? Scared? His eyes swim with a needy plea I can’t place.

“Touch. Them.” He growls out, and I gingerly reach a hand up to delicately trace over the scars. The raised skin feels just as callous as his cold words and harsh tone. Physical abuse, perhaps? But from who? Someone that made him feel as worthless as I sometimes feel, I’d wager. What brought him down this road? “There. You feel that? There’s a hundred other scars just like them all over this decaying body.” He hisses, voice laced with venom. 

“Who made them?” I ask softly, startled by my own voice.

“My goddamn father.” He growls out, eyes never leaving mine. “I was nothing to him. Nothing to anyone. Except Mon-chan.” He looks down and then back at me, the softness entering them for a split second again before they harden once more. “Take off my hood.”

Again, I hesitate. I’m scared of what this could mean. But I see his finger twitch and move my hands.

“Take it off. Slowly.” His voice is barely a whisper now.

I’m delicate and slow in my movements, survival instincts taking over as I comply. When his hood is finally down, I notice a few patches of thinning hair. He guides my hands to pat the top of his head.

“Hair torn out and pulled from being thrown around like a goddamn doll. Doesn’t that piss you off? Parents are supposed to care about their kids!” He roars out, grip tightening around my throat. “But you know about that…don’t you, Ichijiku?”

My heart stops and throbs at the truth behind his words.

Voices abruptly begin shouting down the hall and both Shigaraki and I look up, his hand leaving my throat and his eyes clearing. We got through to him. It was only a moment, but that means there’s still some humanity left inside him.

“Tomura, boy are we glad to see you! Nothing’s wrong, we can handle this! TOMURA, THEY’VE FOUND OUR HIDEOUT! THEY’RE COMING FOR THE GIRL! GRAB HER!” Twice screams down the hallway.

That’s all I need to hear. 

Shigaraki brushes the back of my shirt with all five fingers and disintegrates the collar, before I’m gone. I dart around Twice and down the hall - ignoring the burning in my leg - only to get yanked back by Spinner. I open my mouth wide and channel my inner Mic.

I unleash a scream with full quirk power to scare the shit out of every single one of them. “DOWN HERE!” My voice echoes down the hall.

As I wrestle with the many hands now trying to wrangle me, there’s another pop as my shoulder is dislocated. I hiss out my frustration, but it doesn’t make me stop fighting.

My limbs flail frantically before I see a beautiful sight.

A large man covered in flames followed swiftly by a familiar grey scarf. SHOUTA! Seeing him gives me more motivation and I roar before digging my nails into the man below me. 

Fighting whizzes by in a blur, but my brain suddenly focuses on when Shouta finally pulls me away from them. I’ve never been so glad to feel myself tightly wrapped in Shouta’s scarf. Because finally, I’m in his arms and curled up close to him.

“Eraser, there’s kids. They have kids here. You have to help them.” I whimper, eyes frantic but emotions subdued. “I have to–”

“You’re not doing anything.” He growls out. I can’t see his eyes past his goggles, but I feel their burn. “I’m getting you outside to authorities where you’re safe. I’m not losing you again.” 

There’s a flurry of shouting and limbs and curses, but in the end, Shouta gets me to an ambulance to get checked out and promises he’ll be back before he goes back to help the others. I’ve got several broken ribs, a broken leg, and a dislocated shoulder. There’s too much psychological damage for me to give an accurate account to the medical professionals.

All I know is that I don’t fall asleep until Shouta is back in my sights, safe and suffering only a few bruises and cuts. Only then do I allow myself the sweet embrace of sleep.

Want more Aizawa? Try: Stormy Salsa - Movie Magic

[quickspinner]

Some Other Timeline

Since my eyes are working properly again (mostly) I thought I'd take another stab at the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers minific challenge. I used the LBSC Smooch Roulette prompt generator and came out with "desperate kiss," "train station," and Viperbug, so here you go.

No editing, just brain dump, and I ended up at about 700 words after a fifteen minute sprint and some finishing up.

“Are you sure about this?” Viperion demanded, his normally calm voice strained as he caught Ladybug’s elbow. “I don’t like this plan, it’s too dangerous. Those tunnels aren’t like the movies, they—” 

“I know that,” she snapped, jerking her arm free, and then winced, softening her voice. “It’s not the first time. I know what I’m doing. If you’ve got any other ideas, I’m all ears.” 

Viperion ground his teeth, letting out a frustrated sigh through his nose. He really didn’t. And if she didn’t either, then there probably wasn’t any other solution. She always saw the possibilities. It was something he’d always admired about her, on a professional level. 

It just…wasn’t easy to be professional with her anymore. “Are you sure?” he asked again, but she was already walking to the platform, and he could feel the vibration of the oncoming, akuma-powered train hurtling down the tunnel towards them.

“You know what to do,” she tossed over her shoulder, with a fake cheerfulness that made him ache. 

He wished that were true. He really didn’t know what to do anymore. 

He knew what was expected, though, so he flicked back the slide on his bracelet, the words “Second Chance,” coming out tight and frustrated. 

Ladybug was taking her yoyo from her hip and suddenly Viperion was moving. In two long strides he caught her, jerking her back to him. It was stupid, he knew that even as he jammed his mouth against hers. It was stupid, and possibly wrong, definitely hypocritical, and he did it anyway, his heart pounding in his chest. She gasped against his mouth and pressed for just a moment against his hold. The train came screaming through one tunnel opening and into the other, and she stopped pushing. Her arms came tight around his neck and she kissed him back, just as hard. It was rushed and messy and rough enough that he thought she was probably angry, but her hands were in his hair and her tongue was in his mouth and he could only drag her closer and try to keep up. 

The sudden silence of the station, the sudden loudness of gasped air between hungry lips and a whine he hadn’t known he was making, brought them back to reality, and when she dropped her hands to press his shoulders, he let her slide down him, though he kept his mouth on hers until her feet hit the floor. 

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Viperion swallowed, and Ladybug’s lips pursed tight together. She blinked quickly, and he saw the glitter of tears. “You ass,” she whispered. 

“Yeah,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

She held up a warning finger practically in front of his nose. “Don’t do it again.”

“I won’t,” he promised, and then hesitated. “It’s just…hard to watch you do these things. Now that I know it’s you.”

Ladybug scowled. “I knew it. Damnit, Luka, this is why you weren’t supposed to know!”

He had nothing to say to that. It wasn’t as if he had asked for this. She hadn’t wanted him to know, so he hadn’t tried to know. It had just…happened. 

Ladybug sighed. “Just…do it. I can’t deal with this right now. Some other time.” 

Some other timeline.

Viperion let out another quiet sigh through his nose as he pushed the slide back. A familiar flash of disorientation, and she was walking away from him. 

“Are you sure,” he asked one more time, and she just looked over her shoulder and winked. The train came screaming through, her yoyo zinged out towards it, and then she was gone before he could even blink. Viperion ran to the edge of the platform to look down the tunnel, heart in his throat, and he got the slightest glimpse of red—not the red he was afraid of, but red in a familiar shape, clinging to the back of the train, before it whipped around the next curve and was out of sight.

He cursed under his breath, and turned and ran, his legs shaky as he pounded up the subway steps to get in place for the next step of the plan.

[morally-grey-variant]

love is a dagger [loki x oc] [part one]

loki x oc

part one

[master post here]

Pairing: Loki x Original Character (she/they)

Setting: Canon goes out the window as Loki joins the Avengers Compound. He's not exactly "one of the gang" but, in a tentative truce with Thor, is allowed to live and train with the Avengers and other SHIELD agents living and working on the Compound.

Loki's trying to be better. Really, he is. But atoning for his crimes in the Battle of New York -- and processing more trauma than he has begun to comprehend -- hasn't been easy: Thor stuck his neck out to get him here and won't let him forget it. The other Avengers watch him like they expect him to spontaneously combust.

A particularly annoying SHIELD agent approaches him again and again during his solo workout sessions, insistent upon learning hand-to-hand combat and close-quarters weapons skills. Six months in, he's impressed by how far they've come, and falling for them... hard.

Summary: Six months into Agent Grey Forrest's precarious "are we more than friends?" alliance with the God of Mischief, he accidentally stabs her during a training exercise. (wc 2.6k)

(Grey Forrest - femme/nb, presenting androgynous femme, uses she/they pronouns interchangeably.)

Warnings: Later episodes become more explicit -- Minors DNI. Blood, hospital/surgery/sedatives/stitches, general angst, mild swearing, inferences of past trauma. (if I've missed something please let me know!)

(a cheesy title *and* an OC in my first ever Loki fic? we're going all in, agent. this one has floated around in a doc for a few weeks now and she's dying to see the light of day. future eps will include TWs for dark themes but right now she's a slow burn queen that might make you hate me a little. things will get smuttier, I promise.) inspired by the prompt, "loki accidentally stabs you while training."

My wrist pins Loki's arm against the concrete wall. 

“Checkmate.” 

Panting and grinning, I flick my ponytail back over my shoulder. My torso edges against his, the slick athletic material of my uniform sliding against his worn leather armor. Loki pants, his parted lips spilling hot breath across my face. The knife in my hand glints in the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows and spilling over the blue plastic mat floor of the sparring room.

Loki's bright green eyes flash a half-second before he bodily shoves me aside, spinning us around. He pivots, and my wrist – still clutching my knife – is now locked into his grip. He twists it behind my back and tugs me into his chest. 

Loki's gold dagger finds my throat.

“Checkmate,” he growls playfully. 

Adrenaline spiking, my chest heaves. Damn him. Stupid mistakes like this will get me killed in the field. 

I raise my empty hand, reluctantly signaling surrender. I can practically hear the smug grin of success on his lips as he releases my other wrist, gently pushing me away.

My fingers spread in a gesture of mercy. As if I intend to let him have this one; he's bested me yet again. His answering grin, flashing a glimpse of perfect pearly whites, is infuriatingly confident. Cheeky. A fire blooms in my chest, even as my heart hammers with exhaustion.

He lowers his dagger, his own chest rising and falling beneath his heavily scratched black leather armor. Lulled into a false sense of security by his favorite sparring companion's unwavering surrender.

I lunge forward, taking advantage of that trust in my surrender. My knife strikes out towards his armored torso; my aim wavers, glinting off the worn brassy-gold panel at his waist. 

Loki snatches my arm, flicking it away effortlessly. “Cheating the Trickster?” he jabs, then vanishes in a blink of black smoke. We’ve both broken our rules of combat now: perfidy and sorcery.

“Little traitor.” He reappears to my left. My head spins, disoriented, as he lunges, and I parry backwards – 

His gold blade sinks into the slip of unarmored flesh at my side. Time slows around us as my gaze flutters from the blade to Loki’s face. His confidence melts into horror.

We gasp in unison as steel meets skin. My body recoils instinctively as blade strikes bone, glinting off my ribcage; the scratch against my rib resounds through my entire body. 

“Fuck,” I gasp. All the wind rushes out of my lungs. Loki's hand falters and his blade clatters to the floor. I clutch my ribcage as the room starts spinning around me.

“Grey, I'm so sorry,” Loki pants. He hesitates before stepping toward me, hands hovering over me, paralyzed by fear and indecision. Blood trickles between my fingers.

“Fuck,” I echo. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” My voice is soft in my throat and I can't stop repeating the curse. All my training flies out of my head as my stab wound leaks onto my uniform and drips onto the blue mat beneath my feet. Apply pressure. Get help. 

“Are you alright?”

“Of course I'm not alright,” I spit, finally gathering my bearings. “You fucking stabbed me!” He flinches away, but I’m too rattled to feel particularly guilty. I’m shaking all over, trying to grip the hem of my athletic shirt with my other hand. I tug, but the fabric doesn't give; I can't get a good grasp with my trembling fingers, but I need a cloth to apply pressure and soak up the blood, I need to get down to the medical wing and –

“Stop that,” Loki says. “Come here.” He conjures a white rag in a flash of green light and takes another step towards me.

Before I can so much as blink, he's lifting my bloodied hand from my torso and replacing it with his own. The cloth beneath his palm presses into my chest. One arm slopes across my shoulders, curling me towards him. 

I finally look up at him.

He hovers over me, brows pinched. His chest is still rapidly rising and falling beneath his scarred armor, huffing through his flared nostrils, lips pressed into a flat line. His dark curls spill over his forehead; through them, and his eyes flash up at me, now darkened by swollen pupils.

He looks every inch a kicked dog.

I lay my hand over his. “I've got it,” I murmur. My heart pounds again; unhelpful. Quickening my heart rate will only increase the blood flow.

“Right,” he answers in a soft voice, nodding once and releasing his palm, transferring the pressure back to my hand. “Grey, I never meant to hurt you,” he continues quickly. “My hand slipped. I’m sorry.”

“I need to get to the medical wing.” My vision blurs and shifts; there isn’t enough room in my head for apologies. Dark red quickly soaks through Loki's white cloth. I take a single step forward, but my leg shakes unsteadily. 

Loki stops me. “You're in no fit state to walk. Let me help you.” There's an urgency in his voice. Fear laces the edge of his words.

My breath hitches and shudders. “I can walk.”

“Damn it all, Grey,” he barks, gripping my arm. “Let me help you.” 

I jerk my head up, eyes wide. 

It's been a long time since I've been afraid of Loki. 

He clenches every muscle in his jaw, the sharp cut of his chin barely containing the multitude of biting comments forming there. But there's no fury in his eyes. Frustration, yes; but no anger.

It's fear. 

Black fear sours his expression. Loki, who perpetually radiates cocksure swagger and irritating arrogance, is reduced to a frightened, trembling hesitation.

“Please.” A gentler tone, firm but tender. The vice-like grip of his long fingers loosens. I nod. My head swims and I clutch my forehead with my free hand.

Loki scoops me into his arms. My world flips upside-down; I squeeze my eyes shut against the onslaught of dizziness. Every step rattles my body, forcing me to bite back a groan of pain.

“I'm getting blood on your armor,” I say, tipping my head onto his shoulder. Anything to abate this dizziness; if I throw up on his armor, I’ll probably die of embarrassment – if the stab wound doesn’t get me first. The hand clutching my side, now pressed into his torso, feels sticky and wet. “Why am I losing so much blood?”

“Hush now,” he croons softly. My stomach churns.

I can't decide if it's from the stab wound, or from Loki. His arms curl around my body with strength and gentleness that might tear me apart. 

I can't stop picturing that fear in his eyes. Like a kicked dog. A dog who's been kicked over and over for the crime of loving. Who can't stop running back to whatever – or whomever – hurt him. 

I've never kicked this dog. Why is he afraid of me?

“I'm gonna be fine, Loki,” I murmur, my cheek pressed into a metal buckle of his training armor. I shift my head, tucking it into his chest. I'm getting tired. “Fine.” But my hand shifts against the wound and I can tell the cloth is soaked through.

Loki's chest rumbles, but I can't make out what he's saying. It's a frustrated noise, I know that much. He makes enough little noises of discontent that I've learned to differentiate between the sounds. 

Other voices fill the space around us. I think he’s telling someone what happened, though much of his voice is still a low rumble in his chest. My leaden head sinks into him.

Suddenly, he’s relinquishing me, laying me down on a hard, flat surface. It's my turn to grumble discontented noises. My arms stretch out back towards the safety of his, but other hands start prodding and grabbing at me. My eyes fly open, heart pounding again, I’m gasping for air–

“You're all right,” Loki murmurs in a low voice somewhere beside me. “They’re going to help you now.”

Medical staff swarm as the stretcher jolts forward. I squeeze my eyes shut again. Lights flash behind my eyelids at regular intervals. 

“Sir, were going to have to ask you to wait–”

“I'll stay right here, thank you.” 

The stretcher jerks to a halt. Fingers and needles pinch against my arm, unpleasantly shocking my brain in and out of the heavy sluggish fog. My athletic shirt tugs downward with a metallic snick of scissors– 

I blink my eyes open again, hands slapping against the hands and shears cutting through my clothes – no, stop, and I think the words gasp out of my throat but I can't be sure if I’m actually saying them out loud.

“Agent, we have to access the wound,” a voice snaps through the warbled haze. Someone pulls my hands away. My stomach flips – I can't freak out, if I freak out I'll lose control, I can't freak out, but now I'm totally freaking out – 

But then there's a gentle hand on my temple. “Let them help you.” Loki's voice is almost unfamiliar in its tenderness. A surge of bright electricity erupts in my heart, flooding through every vein and nerve ending; the blip, blip, blip of some machine in the room keeps pace. “You're safe here, Grey. Agent.” He tacks on the last word like a formality. An afterthought.

Although his gentleness sets my heart racing, his words have their intended effect. I don't fight back as the nurse cuts clean through my blood-soaked top, exposing my torso. Glancing down, I wish I hadn't when I see how my chest is smeared with blood. The nurse blessedly doesn't cut through my sports bra, since the wound seems to lie a few inches below the elastic band. 

Another warm, thick sensation spreads down my left arm, spilling down my fingers and out across my torso. My eyes drift closed again – everything feels better now. I can ignore the stinging of alcohol and iodine swabs around the wound, prodding fingers and soft gauze that catch against raw flesh. “It's a clean cut,” someone pronounces. Loki's hand stiffens against my temple. “Less than an inch deep, about two inches long.” A keyboard crackles as someone takes notes. 

“Agent Forrest,” someone asks, “we’re going to stitch up the wound now. All right?” 

“Mmm,” I hum, rolling my head so the elastic of my ponytail doesn't dig into my skull. Loki's thumb strokes against my temple. The needle and surgical thread tug against the tender skin over my ribcage, pulling and tightening and piercing over and over again.

Voices echo from down the hall. The warm, brain-addling sedative conjures up familiar characters for a dream half-rooted in reality. Shouting voices, and the tenor of someone familiar, authoritative, and very pissed right outside the door.

“You're fucking kidding me. You let him in there with her?” 

“Mr. Stark, the doctor is right in the middle of the procedure,” a female voice insists. 

“And I pay the doctor's salary,” Tony shouts as if he's right at my feet. I force my eyes open – I hate this dream. I don't want Tony in my dream. 

Oh. Red-faced and seething, what I can only assume is a very real Tony Stark looms over the end of my bed. Shame, and something like fear burn in my chest, tugging me to the surface of the drug-induced fog.

“Mr. Stark, I must insist, the patient's wound–” the doctor insists, turning his head but remaining hunched over my torso.

“Nurse, call security,” Tony barks. “Scratch that. I'll escort the threat out myself.”

“Tony, it's not what it looks like–” Loki says. His hand never leaves my head, cradling it tenderly even as he raises his voice. The doctor shakes his head and finishes up the last stitches.

“You fucking stabbed Agent Forrest?” Tony growls, lifting his arm – his finger trails along the metal cuff at his wrist, preparing to summon one of his suits. 

“Not in the hospital!” The nurse shouts, jumping to her feet. Her voice is weighted with enough authority that even Tony pauses. “Take it outside. We have seriously sick people here.”

“You let her attacker into the room with her,” Tony counters, thrusting a finger towards Loki. “He could slaughter all of you before you could scream for help.”

“He brought her here, Mr. Stark,” the doctor says, tying off the last stitch. “If he wanted to kill any of us, he's had plenty of time.”

“Tony…” I grumble. My tongue is thick and heavy in my mouth. Loki's hand slips away from my temple. I shift my head as the cradle of his fingers disappears. My leaden skull feels like it’s swollen twice its size. “Too much morphine.” I blink hard, my brow creased in concentration. Why am I so loopy? “If Loki wanted t’kill me, I’d’ve killed him. I'm fine. 's an accident.” 

“We’ll take you off the IV,” the nurse explained, coming closer to pinch and prod at my arm. “The wound is fairly shallow.”

“See?” I raise my arm, gesturing to the nurse. “Fine.”

“You got lucky, Forrest. This man has stabbed more Avengers than not,” Tony counters, ignoring my morphine-drunk threat. “You have ten seconds before I throw you out that window, space man.”

“Stupid, Tony,” I grumble, growing frustrated. Bracing my forearms against the bed, I push myself up. Loki stops me before the nurses can so much as flinch.

“Lie down,” he says, finally stepping into my line of sight. 

“Oh my god, Loki,” I gasp, blinking hard. He's completely drenched in blood – my blood. My hand flies up to brush against the front of his armor.

He lowers a hand to brace against my chest before quickly reconsidering and pushing down on my shoulder. Soft green light flashes in my periphery and a pillow cushions the back of my head as he lowers me back onto the stretcher. “Don’t hurt yourself,” he continues urgently. 

I resign myself to a more horizontal position, but I still reach out towards him. IV tubes tug against my arm, but my hand rests flat against the blood-smeared leather protecting his torso. “Fuck… bled all over you.”

Loki smirks. His hand wraps around mine, lowering it back to my side. “An excuse to requisition something new from the armory,” he answers. His hands are coated in my blood, too. “Something with a bit more gold, perhaps?”

“Black and gold,” I hum. “Green’s more your color.”

“Are we done here?” Tony snaps, and my tunneled vision explodes back out into the room. I'd forgotten the room was full of people.

“Tony…” I murmur. My head is starting to clear somewhat. “Loki wasn't trying to kill me. It was an accident. My fault.”

“Mr. Stark, the patient needs to rest,” the nurse interjects, clipboard chart clutched in her hand. “I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave.”

Tony storms out. In the hall, I can hear him demanding to have a word with someone about hospital security.

Loki smirks down at me, though his face is still pale. Paler than usual.

“You too, Mr. Laufeyson,” the nurse adds. She wedges herself between us, forcing him to step to the side.

“No,” I groan. “Let him stay. Loki, stay with me. I hate it here.”

Loki's hand strokes my temple again. The nurse frowns down at me as she changes the IV. A new bag, heavy with dark blood, sags from the silver pole behind her.

“We finally got your blood type from your file,” she explains. “Your… friend can stay while you receive the infusion.”

Loki pushes back hair that clings to my forehead, still damp with drying sweat. “Don't leave, Loki.” I wince against the pinching sensations and beads of blood welling up as she removes the first line and places another for the blood.

“I'm not going anywhere.”

[continue reading in part two]

[undreaming-fanfiction]

With This Ring (13)

Chapter 12 here, Ao3 here

The whole rush to the church was a blur to Steve. He was distantly aware of Eddie’s sped up summary of the last day that sounded more like a drunken nightmare instead of something that could have ever happened. He didn't bother adding any details, instead focusing on the feel of Robin and Eddie’s arms under his. Steve had originally started speed walking and tried to keep his pained expression at bay, but a few whispers behind him put a prompt end to that. They both grabbed him, supported his weight enough to lessen the pain in his ankle and off they went.

Robin, to her credit, remained mostly quiet. Maybe it was the shortness of breath - as Eddie had said before, not needing any oxygen had its merits - but she took the whole story in literal stride. Only when Eddie finished with tossing the tape in the mail did she say something.

“I wish I could have seen Dick’s face when you did the stabby thing. He deserved that. And more.” Her tone didn’t betray much, but there was a hidden sting.

Eddie laughed. “Damn right he did. Although you’ve surprised me, Buckley. You seem pretty chill with the whole living dead thing.”

She kept her eyes on the road, carefully synchronizing her steps with Steve. “Trust me, I’m freaking out on the inside. But I saw you up close. You…don’t look right. Having a crazy explanation is better than guessing and coming up with an even crazier one.” After a few seconds of silence, she added, “and also I don’t have time to faint, scream my head off, or do whatever you’re expecting. Nancy’s about to marry that douchebag, and I can only handle one crisis at a time.”

“Wise.”

As they arrived at the church door, Steve turned to face them. “How do I look?” 

It wasn’t really a question. He was disheveled and for how crazy his heart was beating, he was dead tired. No pun intended. 

Eddie smirked at him and tucked a rogue hair strand behind Steve’s ear. “Perfect, like always.” 

“Yeah yeah, but you also look like someone who was supposed to crash the wedding five minutes ago,” snapped Robin and pushed him towards the door. “Let’s go!” 

That was an order he could easily follow. Steve straightened his back and pushed the heavy doors open. 

He was met with dozens of pairs of eyes. Frightened, relieved, confused…but mostly judging.

The church wasn’t nearly as full as Steve expected, but his stomach still gave an uncomfortable squeeze, as if it begged him not to draw any more attention to themselves. But he had to do it, had to be in the spotlight again. Especially when Nancy was about to have her life ruined in a way much worse than had been in her stars just a few days prior. 

Swallowing down the rising panic, Steve took a deep breath. “I object!” 

If Brenner’s stare could kill, Steve would be hanged, stabbed, stoned and set on fire all at once. 

But as cheesy as it may have sounded, he was afraid of nothing when he had Eddie by his side. 

“You’re late, young man,” Brenner said. “You had your chance already, you squandered it. Isn’t ruining one wedding enough for you?” 

“Not at all, sir.” Steve was marching ahead, still holding Eddie’s hand and focusing on not letting his pain show. This wasn’t a place to show weakness. “This one is far more enjoyable to ruin. Because the bride actually doesn’t want to marry him. I doubt God looks kindly at coercion.” 

Nancy smiled at him with so much warmth and disbelief it made his heart jump. “Steve, you came! You’re okay!” she whispered. She bit her lip when she saw Robin behind his back, sneaking to the side and making her way to the altar. To do what, Steve wasn’t sure, but he would support her no matter what, even if she tried to abduct Nancy by throwing her over her shoulder. 

But before he could respond, another voice interrupted them. “You dare to speak about God when you keep this company?!” 

Jason Carver was shaking. He stared at Eddie with a look so hateful and terrified that he must have seen through the ruse, even though Eddie was still far away. Eddie wasn’t facing any of the wedding guests, but Carver’s expression betrayed that he knew. 

“I don’t know what dark entity brought you back, freak, but you don’t belong here. You can’t be in the house of God! I won’t allow you to ruin more lives than you already have!” 

Nancy took a step back, watching Jason with confusion. “What are you talking about?” 

“Don’t you see? He’s dead! His…his eyes are all wrong. He was gone for over a year and now he’s come back…different.” Jason was pale under his usual tan. He was licking his lips between sentences, staring at Eddie as if he’d been sent to drag him to hell. “You should be dead and I don’t care what black magic you are using, you will return to the grave. The dead have no right to walk amongst the living!” 

“Ooooh, scary!” muttered Eddie, but Jason wasn’t listening. His focus had shifted to the wedding guests.

He turned to the seated people of Hawkins and raised arms. “I wouldn’t lie to you. I know how preposterous it sounds, but take a single look at his face and tell me, is this the Eddie Munson you knew?!”

More people turned to Eddie, studying him and flinching as the realization hit them. “No,” was the resounding answer. 

Jason continued his speech, turning to pastor Brenner. “Pastor, you are a man of God. Will you allow this? Will you allow this abomination to disturb this joyful day?!” 

“No!” shouted one of Jason’s friends. Steve recognized him - it was Patrick, Jason’s teammate and a constant sidekick. “Not in this town!” 

There it was, that famous magnetic personality. Jason could rally crowds, inspire bravery and righteous anger with his speeches, just like he had when Chrissy disappeared. Steve could see the wedding guests stirring in their seats, some slowly getting up, moving towards him and Eddie. He grasped his hand, disregarding its coldness – it provided much more warmth to him than many had in life. So what if he was supposed to be dead! 

Dead…

Steve took a deep, sharp breath. Was this…?

The mob in fancy clothes was approaching. 

“Steve?” whispered Eddie and tugged on his hand, urging him to follow him out of the church. “I’m pretty sure this is our cue to leave. Maybe run. Fast. I’m sure the bride to be will follow.”

But Steve shook his head and let go of Eddie’s hand, a single caress on his knuckles as a promise of return before he took a step forward. 

“How do you know, Jason?” 

The groom stared at him, confused. The charm was temporarily broken and people stopped in their tracks, glancing between the two men. “How do I know what?” asked Jason.

Steve couldn’t help himself, he felt his trademark bitchy smirk tugging on his lips. He might not have been academically smart, but he knew people. And that right there? That was a man sweating underneath his expensive wedding suit, and not because the church was too warm, oh no. 

He took another step forward and motioned for the people to sit, no struggling for confidence this time, no wondering if he deserved the attention, the respect he felt when they returned to their seats, confused but obeying. Because this wasn’t about him – this was about Eddie in every single way. If he was honest with himself, he couldn’t really remember when things hadn’t been about Eddie. 

“How do you know Eddie is dead?” he asked again, loud and clear. “Because that was an impressive monster hunt speech. And yet…no one could have told you Eddie is dead. He’s moving. He’s breathing, when he remembers to. Sure, I told my parents and Robin too, but I know for certain none of them told you. My parents would never say something so preposterous aloud, and Robin didn’t know until just a few minutes ago. The point is - Eddie does look alive if you don’t see him up close. But you are so certain from the second we walked in that he’s dead. Or at least…that he was dead at some point.” 

Jason grew several shades paler, if that was even possible. He was gripping Nancy’s elbow so tightly that she bit her lip in pain and yanked her hand away. Staring at Steve, he was stammering, searching for words. “I…of course he is, I mean look at him, look-“ 

But Steve just shook his head, making his way to the altar. The carpet felt soft under his feet and he had to stifle an urge to laugh – he was dreading this day so much, avoiding it like the plague, and yet joining Nancy at the altar now felt like the most natural thing in the world. It was almost liberating, saving her from a monster that for once wasn’t their forced marriage. 

“Look at what, Jason?” he stretched his words, enunciating and raising his voice so everyone in the church could hear him. “Please enlighten me. Or maybe some of you esteemed guests can!” He turned around and addressed the wedding guests, taking in their faces – Ted Wheeler’s pasty face, trembling in silent rage, confusion in others, fear…but only one face showed what he was looking for. 

Karen Wheeler was clutching her purse so tight her baby blue nails made tiny indents in them, but her mouth was open. She couldn’t hide the horror of the growing realization about who her daughter was to marry. 

Steve smiled at her, motioned for her to speak up. “Tell me, Mrs. Wheeler. When you look at Eddie Munson, the man standing there – sure, he might look a bit tired, maybe pale, but would your immediate thought be…this man is dead?”

She shook her head slowly and Steve didn’t have to look behind him to sense the pride that was swelling from Nancy. The women of this family were strong, after all. “Absolutely not,” she answered, voice loud and clear. “Not unless…I already knew he was dead.” Her eyes bore into Jason, accusing him. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler. My thoughts exactly.” Steve turned back to the guests and extended his hand towards Eddie in a silent plea to join him. “You see, Jason is right. Eddie is dead. As in no heartbeat but still moving, reanimated dead. He’d be able to describe it more eloquently, maybe even present it in a rather disturbing way. But Jason couldn’t have known that – Eddie was assaulted about a year ago and left for dead, buried in a shallow grave…”

That was the first time Steve’s voice faltered, the anger, sadness and injustice of it all squeezing his throat, but Eddie’s cool hand was there again, rejoining him and grounding him as he went on. 

“A shallow grave a short walk from here, in the woods. There was no headstone to see, no indication what happened. As far as everyone knew, Eddie just left one day. And it was so convenient to believe that he ran away after all the rumors about Chrissy Cunningham, about his assumed role in her disappearance. Even if his uncle knew Eddie would never leave his guitar, his beloved books, hell, especially him. He wouldn’t leave Wayne Munson behind, not without a goodbye. But if you asked, someone had an answer…a convenient witness who saw Eddie leave the town.” 

Steve turned to Hopper who stood there with his usual unreadable expression, frowning at the guests and at the world. “Chief. Can you please confirm for all of us here who informed you that Eddie left the town, that he wasn’t missing?” 

Hopper stayed quiet for a moment, fingers looped behind his belt as he considered his answer. “It was Andy…Andrew Conner,” he said gruffly, stabbing Jason with a sharp glare – Jason, who was still grasping what was happening. 

And there it was, the final discrepancy. Nodding, Steve addressed the guests again. “There you have it. The only reason why Eddie Munson wasn’t considered missing was the word of a single young man…a young man who happens to be Jason’s close friend. And yet, before even seeing Eddie up close, Jason immediately believed that Eddie was the spawn of Satan, an unholy zombie or whatever he wants to call his current state. But if his best friend witnessed Eddie leaving the town, how come Jason immediately jumped to this conclusion?” 

Hopper made a sound of reluctant agreement. “Young Harrington here makes a good point. Care to explain that, Carver? Because I’ve been here for the whole shitshow and while you spouted a lot of stuff about black magic and what not, that young man doesn’t look dead to me.” 

Before Jason could respond, Patrick stood up again and pointed a finger at Eddie. “This is absurd. What reason would Jason have to kill Munson? Sure, he didn’t like him, but it’s not like he’d risk prison to get rid of him. You don’t go to jail for vermin.” 

Before anyone could answer, an unexpected sound broke the silence – Eddie started laughing, loud and unrestricted, echoing between the tall church walls. “Oh, but he had a reason,” he growled at Jason, staring daggers at him. “I didn’t really suspect him, didn’t think he had it in him. Or at least I hoped that the Hawkins’ next golden boy wouldn’t do something so utterly stupid. See, Nancy Wheeler isn’t the first woman Mr. Perfect here is about to make unhappy. Do any of you remember who used to date Chrissy Cunningham?” 

The groom grew even paler. “Don’t you dare talk about her!” 

“Oh, but I will!” Eddie uttered, and his eyes were cold, angry. “I will because she is an incredible person that never deserved what she got from you. She felt suffocated by this town, by you, by her family.”

Eddie took another step towards Jason and each word sounded like an accusation. “I know all about you, Jason. She told you about the pain she suffered under her parents, their criticism, their demands, the threat to her health that they were. She decided to confide in you because she thought you cared about her. And what did you do? You told her to be patient and understanding. You told her that this must have been their way to show love, that they were her parents after all and they would never hurt her. All the while she was starving herself for their approval. After that, she came to me for help.” 

Hopper tilted his head. “To you?” 

“Yes, to me. How bad do you think it must have been, to trust the local outcast instead of her perfect shiny boyfriend? She was afraid of everything and everyone, but the night her mother told her that she had a month to lose weight into her wedding dress when Chrissy barely ate enough to function, that was the last straw. She was so weak, so hungry. She told me that the stale cafeteria müsli bar I had in my van was the most delicious thing she’s ever had.

She knew some of my friends had moved out of Hawkins and wanted a starting point for her new life. Someone to crash with. I helped her plan everything, gave her my friend’s number and directions. I made sure I was on that bus with her, I went to Indy with her, helped her find the place. Then I went there to check on her again…because she trusted me. And I would never betray that trust.” Glaring at Jason, Eddie’s fists were clenching and unclenching as the realization sank in - that he finally found the cause for his untimely demise, his murderer. “But I never thought that you’d kill me for it, Carver.” 

Steve expected many things, most likely a fight to break out, for Carver to deny everything, maybe for Hopper to step in and arrest him for…what exactly? But the one thing he never saw coming was Carver’s hands dropping, hanging limply by his sides. What was written on his face was pure shock.

“Chrissy…Chrissy’s alive?” he whispered. 

Once again Eddie’s chuckle echoed in the church, but no matter how many times the sound was brought back, it held no joy, no amusement. It was bitter, so bitter that Steve’s insides felt like ice. “Wait. Fucking wait. I thought that all the shit you were saying about me killing Chrissy was just your way of punishing me for letting her escape your clutches. Are you really…are you telling me you really believed that I murdered her?”

Jason was sweating, shaking even more than he had been before. He looked like he was about to be sick, clutching his mouth and taking deep breaths through his nose. “What else was I supposed to think?” he whispered. “She said she’d be back the next day. You wouldn’t talk to me. She never…she never mentioned wanting to break up, how was I…”

“Of course she didn’t! She told me everything, Jason! How you shut down her attending college, for her own good of course. How you asked her parents to marry her even when she told you she wasn’t ready. And you have the fucking gall to question why she ran away instead of talking things through with a guy who bulldozed over everything she wanted? Who told her to keep starving herself to keep the peace?!”

That snapped Jason out of his stupor. “I loved her, you freak!” he shouted, his voice breaking at the last word. “As if you could ever understand that! She always understood that I wanted only the best for her, she knew it was the right choice when we discussed things. I would have made her happy! It would take only a while. We would appease her parents and she’d be free. She didn’t…she didn’t have to run away from me…”

Eddie’s anger dissipated, and he just seemed sad. Rubbing his temples, he let out a deep sigh. “Look, I can handle being murdered for doing the right thing, but being dead because you’re dumb and didn’t bother to think of other options? Because you’ve got a…murder tunnel vision? I’d be better off not knowing.” 

Jason was staring at the floor, and Steve thought he saw tears in the corners of his eyes. “I never wanted to kill you,” he whispered. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”

Eddie’s eyes snapped back towards him. “What? Care to explain this,” he gestured at his own face, his body, “because how do you fucking accidentally murder someone?”

Steve could have sworn he heard Chief Hopper mutter, “yeah, that’s what I’d also like to know.” 

Still talking to the floor, Jason wrapped his arms around his middle. Cornered and finally forced to reveal the truth, he seemed much younger. “You wouldn’t talk to me! You’d always leave when I tried to question you, or you’d say that I’d better get used to Chrissy being gone because it wasn’t changing. So I thought I’d make you talk. I saw you going to those woods, and I followed you. I just wanted to knock you out. I wanted to restrain you, question you. But I…I hit you too hard. You just collapsed and…when I checked, you weren’t breathing.” 

Steve felt sick, and from the look on her face, Nancy did too. She was taking short steps away from Jason, not daring to turn around. Robin, on the other hand, was petrified. Nancy had to tug on her hand several times to make her move. 

But Jason wasn’t stopping them. He was full on crying now, sobbing into his palms. “I was so afraid. I tried to revive you, I swear. But you weren’t getting up, and I thought…I can’t get arrested, not when Chrissy’s still missing. I buried you there and told Andy I saw you leaving on that bus. He’d repeat anything I told him. I thought I’d confess once I found her, but…I never did. I couldn’t stop looking for her because if she wasn’t found, then what I did would have been for nothing. And now you’re telling me that’s exactly what it was. I killed someone for nothing.”

Apart from Jason’s lingering sobs, the church was quiet. Eddie stopped moving and stared at the stained glass window above the altar, at the tinted rays of sun that had no business looking so cheerful. “A mistake until the end,” he said flatly. “How fitting.” 

Steve barely registered the steps behind him. Chief Hopper got up from his seat and, not unkindly, grasped Jason’s arm. “That sounded like a murder confession to me, Carver. You know what that means.”

Jason nodded through his tears, meeting Hopper’s eyes with something that hadn’t been there for years - acceptance. “Yeah. I do. I’m coming with you.”

There was a sudden rush of movement from everywhere - Jason’s parents throwing themselves towards Hopper and being blocked by his officers, Karen Wheeler rushing to Nancy and Robin, Mrs. Henderson and the Sinclairs ushering all the kids outside despite their vehement protesting…it was a lot. But Steve could only concentrate on one thing - Jason Carver stopping in front of Eddie.

“For all it’s worth…I’m sorry,” he said. Glancing towards Nancy who was in a joint embrace with Robin and Karen, he added, “to both of you.” 

With his and the kids’ departure, the church finally went quiet.

Chapter 14 here

[oh-surprise-its-me]

Roy/Jamie prompt: It's the start of training and Jamie still hasn't arrived. Everyone is worried until the doors open and he staggers in. To everyone's horror there is blood seeping out of his side. He's been stabbed. Roy manages to grab him before his legs give out on him. As Roy cradles Jamie to him, Jamie's gasping for air, his eyes are rolling, Jamie uses whatever strength he has left to pull Roy down for a searing kiss. He then goes totally limp, his lips slack against Roy's. It's complete and utter chaos as they rush Jamie to the hospital. Roy loses his mind with worry. Jamie pulls through and it's revealed that the person who stabbed Jamie is some psycho fan of Lust Conquers All who wanted one of Jamie's rivals on the show to love him and thought Jamie was competition. Jamie pulls through and he and Roy gotta deal with the fact that they are desperate in love with each other.

Ow! Damn! Okay! Yes! Pain!

Roy never wants to have to make that kind of call ever again. Georgie is catching the first train down. She said she trusts Roy to take care of her baby until then.

Her baby who is still unconscious.

Jamie.

Jamie who kissed Roy and then fucking passed out so hard Roy genuinely thought he was dead.

Roy sighs and looks at the man in the hospital bed. He takes Jamie’s hand. No one should be going through this without someone holding their hand even if Jamie can’t tell. Roy leans back in the chair and closes his eyes.

He can’t stop seeing Jamie bleeding. He knows he needs to sleep. Jamie is fine. The doctor said he’ll be okay. Off the pitch for a good while but fine.

Roy slowly drifts off.

—

When he wakes up it’s to a tug on his head. He thinks it’s Phoebe and he’s fallen asleep during one of their Barbie movie marathons.

“Roy.”

Roy’s eyes snap open. That’s Jamie. Fuck. Right. He turns and looks at Jamie. Jesus it’s good to see his eyes open. “Welcome back Jamie.”

Jamie shakes his head on the pillow. He gently runs his hand over the bandages. He’s still holding Roy’s hand. “How bad did they get me?” Roy inhales hard. He squeezes Jamie’s hand. “You’re not going to play the rest of the season as a precaution.” Jamie makes a sad noise but Roy frankly doesn’t care.

“You remember what you did?”

Jamie goes red. He covers his eyes with his hand, “yeah. Sorry. Dunno why I did that.”

Roy blinks. “I’m in love with you.”

Jamie’s eyes snap open. He stares at Roy. Jamie gently slaps himself. “Oi! Don’t do that??” Jamie smiles at Roy. “Had to make sure I’m not dreaming yeah?”

Roy gently brushes some of the hair off of Jamie’s forehead. “Dreaming?” Jamie’s smile slips into a grin. He pulls Roy’s hand closer. “Yeah thought I was gonna die so I wanted to kiss you before I did. Always want to kiss you. Figured I’d never have another chance. Might not have the chance to love you like I wanted but a kiss was manageable.”

Jamie stopped looking at Roy when he confessed that. Roy wipes away the tears that formed when Jamie was talking. “Well now we’ve got time.” Roy gently turns Jamie’s face to look at him. “Wanna kiss me again?” Jamie’s mouth drops into an o, “obviously yeah.”

Jamie tilts the bed up. He winces as the pressure on his wounds shifts. He leans forward to kiss Roy but pulls back at the last second. “I love you. I’m serious about that Roy.”

Roy holds Jamie’s face between his hands, “I love you too. Hate it took this to say it but I’m serious too.”

Jamie catches Roy’s chin and pulls him closer.

It’s a good first kiss considering Jamie can’t move his lower body at all.

The heart monitor beeps faster. Roy pulls away with a small laugh. Jamie is tinted pink again. “Shut up.” Roy kisses the side of Jamie’s head and takes his hand back. “Love you.” Jamie lays back against the bed and squeezes Roy’s hand, “love you too.”

—

Jamie ends up living with Roy for those months of recovery, he straight up moves in by the end. They didn’t realize until Sam showed up at Roy’s house to get Jamie for a lunch date.

[crissiebaby]

The Padded Palace Act IV: Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, crossdressing, inappropriate language, humiliation, masturbation/diaper sex, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

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“H-How am I feeling?” said Connor in a hushed tone, repeating Riri’s question back to her dumbfounded. However, it wasn’t long before his befuddlement soon gave way to annoyance, “You called me over here…in the middle of the night…to ask how I’m feeling? Tired, sore, and a little hungry to answer your question.” His eyes glazed over near the tail end of his sentence; a product of his exhaustion. Sliding his butt back, he leaned against the bars of the crib and sighed to quill his accelerated heart rate.

Lowering her head, Riri wasn’t off to the greatest of starts. “Sorry, I thought you might wanna talk about stuff. It was a lot to throw at you in a single night. And while Miss Big upstairs would love to think of herself as a capable caregiver, she doesn’t know the first thing about genuine aftercare,” she said, dropping all pretense of being Little despite their attire and surroundings.

As Riri’s words sank in, Connor could feel the pressure radiating off her inquisitive stare, compelling him to take another stab at her inaugural question, “Okay…okay, how am I feeling?” Resting his head between a pair of crib bars, he could practically feel the blood pooling in his cheeks as his brain relentlessly cycled through the event of his first AB slumber party. “It’s kinda hard to put into words. I want to say I feel…ridiculous? No, that doesn’t feel quite right. Um…what about you? How are you feeling?”

“Nuh-uh, no shifting subjects,” said Riri, scrunching her lips into a judgmental pout as she shook her head, “Answer the question, or I’ll see to it Ellie wakes up. Then you’ll be in real trouble.”

Connor peered over his shoulder at Ellie in response to Riri’s ultimatum. Narrowing his eyes playfully, he knew his hands were tied. “Fine, fine. I’ll talk. Just let me think for a second,” he said, buying himself some time to come up with an answer that would please Riri. He wasn’t sure what she was fishing for but it was clear as day that she had something on her mind. Was she gauging his interest in ABDL for future play sessions? The answer to that should be pretty apparent by this point. Although, he supposed making him blush as he owned up to his newfound interests was probably the point, “Okay, I don’t suppose I can deny it anymore…”

Riri’s diaper crinkled as she leaned forward, excited to hear what Connor was about to say. As much as she wanted to keep a lid on her reaction, she couldn’t help that her anticipation was growing too rapidly to control. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip, desperate to suppress herself for Connor’s sake. He didn’t need any more craziness on this night.

“...Okay, here it is…” said Connor, sucking in air sharply through his nose, “...I think I have a diaper fetish.”

*SLAP!*

Riri’s palm immediately made contact with her forehead, her self-flagellation filling Connor with concern and confusion. Perhaps she had expected too much without any sort of prompting, though it wasn’t as if she could just ask him outright. That was a big no-no that often led to impulsive answers. Her hand slowly descended her face, stretching her skin as she snickered in awe, “Oh, wow? Really? I NEVER would’ve guessed. Tell me, did you figure that one out on your own or was it sometime during the ten or so orgasms you had?” She knew sarcasm probably wasn’t putting the best foot forward but she just couldn’t resist.

No surprise, Connor’s redness increased twofold. “S-Shush it! You’re the one who asked me-MMMM!” he shouted, his defense halted by a pair of soft hands pressing into his mouth and cheeks. He briefly wanted to shove her hands away on instinct but quickly realized her reasoning as Ellie’s snoring took auditory prominence within the nursery. He had forgotten himself entirely. Nodding to Riri as he relaxed, his mouth was slowly uncovered, “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” said Riri sympathetically, backing off now that Connor had been calmed. Maybe trying to hash this out in the middle of the night wasn’t her brightest idea. That being said, she’d already come this far. Plus, Connor would be undoubtedly annoyed to be sent back to his crib at this point, “Sorry for the teasing. I wasn’t trying to make you defensive. I just…I dunno. I guess I didn’t expect your answer to be so…vanilla. You really are, like, new-new to all of this, aren’t you?”

Averting his gaze, Connor could tell his internal shame meter was steadily on the rise. He supposed it was funny. Most adults wouldn’t lament over not being ABDL enough. In a way, that small asterisk hanging over his diaper kink was more isolating than the idea of becoming the horniest diaper lover alive. He laughed through the pain as he replied with a question of his own, “How it is that, even amongst diaper lovers, I can’t stop feeling like there’s something wrong with me? You all make it look so effortless. Meanwhile, I needed my brain to pretty much break for me to get out of my own head. Why is it so hard to say what I want?” Memories of his seemingly simple yet dangerously open-ended response to Latasha’s big question from his first week at the Palace resurfaced. In a way, asking her to take away his right to choose was the biggest cop-out of an answer he could’ve given. It spared him from the difficulty of owning up to specific wants and desires. Unable to cope with all the intrusive thoughts bearing down on him, he curled his leg into his chest and buried his head between his knees.

“Shhhhhh. I promise, it’s going to be okay,” said Riri, hiding her concern as well as she could as she gingerly approached Connor and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. So much about what he was going through was obvious to her. The needless self-repression, the internalized shame, the lack of confidence; there was no doubt in her mind that Connor was dealing with a boatload of unresolved traumatic experiences. For his sake, she decided to set aside her curiosity pertaining to his “Con-con-nie” comment. Someone with the inability to self-actualize this badly wasn’t ready for that can of worms, at least not yet.

Initially resistant to Riri’s reassuring touch, Connor cautiously allowed more of himself to be soothed by her until he fully collapsed into her arms. However, while he did gradually come to accept her kindness, the one thing he couldn’t do was allow himself to cry in front of Riri, or any of the girls for that matter. Whatever respect he carried within the Padded Palace had already been demolished enough for one night. He snaked his arms around Riri’s torso, letting his mind drift away from troubling thoughts as his fingers traced the smooth fabric of Riri’s nightie.

The diaper-clad pair held their embrace for several minutes. It got to the point where Riri believed he might fall asleep in her lap, something Stacy would be almost certain to give her an earful for. Mercifully, he did eventually break from the hug, appearing far more at ease than he had been when he first arrived at her crib. With her limbs now free, she knew exactly what she needed to do. Connor was in desperate need of an outlet for his new kink, and she had a decade and a half of diaper perving experience to educate him with. “Wait here for me, okay? I’ll be right back,” she said, hopping out of the open crib and sneaking to the wardrobe on the opposite end of the nursery.

Left to watch as Riri searched through the free-standing closet as quietly as possible, Connor wasn’t sure what she was up to. That didn’t stop his brain from running wild with huffy ideas. Was she going to put him in something else to wear, or send him to bed with a vibrator stuffed down his diaper? With all their crazy antics, he wouldn’t put anything past these three ever again. Those assumptions proved they couldn’t be further from the truth as Riri retreated from the wardrobe with Connor’s male clothes bundled up in her arms.

“Sorry, it took me a second to find where Stacy stashed them,” said Riri, sitting down and laying the shirt and pants combo atop the crib mattress. She then dug her fingers into his pants pockets, retrieving his cell phone before tossing it into his lap, “Open your browser and pull up DeviantArt. It’s high time someone gave you a crash course.”

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“But you said you loved me!”

“I never loved you! I only loved the idea of you!”

Laying across Latasha’s bed on her tummy with her eyes fixed upon the television, Stacy couldn’t recall feeling more bored than she was right now. There weren’t even any good cartoons on right now. Nothing but annoying animated shows for boys that were 80% toilet humor. After scanning through all of Latasha’s channels twice over, she ended up stuck watching poorly acted porn on Skinemax. She fidgeted with the back of the TV remote, wishing her body would feel tired already. All this Big excitement had her restless.

Thankfully, it looked like things were finally heating up in this crappy porno. She observed as the six-pack-wielding man lifted the girl who was playing his former lover into the air. Within seconds, he had slipped his phallus inside her while remaining standing. Even Stacy had to admit it was quite an impressive feat. She could feel her lower lips moistening as she watched the busty blonde girl on screen be split by the monster between her partner’s legs.

*CRACK!*

All of a sudden, Stacy’s eyes abandoned the screen as a loud, snapping noise drew her eyes downward. “Fuuuuuuuuck,” she said, holding the broken tab of the remote’s battery hatch in her hand. Given that every remote in her home looked like this, she realized too late that she probably should’ve avoided playing with the remote in the first place. Hoping to avoid getting caught for breaking something that wasn’t hers, she quickly pieced the remote back together and placed it in the top drawer of Latasha’s end table. This was just perfect. Now she was both horny and anxious.

Lightbulb!

Leaning over the end table, Stacy causally prodded around the small, wooden box, curious if she could sus out where Latasha had stashed her adult toys. There was no doubt in her mind Latasha owned at least one for personal use. So long as she washed it before and after, who would know or care? Sadly, the top drawer proved fruitless, causing her to move her search to the next drawer down.

Lo and behold, what Stacy found inside the bottom drawer of Latasha’s nightstand left her frozen in place. Zapped of all tiredness, she blinked her eyes rapidly as if expecting what she saw to disappear. To her shock and utter amusement, the half-used package of Megamax diapers refused to vanish.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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[griseldabanks]

for the ask game, would you do #23 for link and zelda?

Let Me Count the Ways ask game

Prompt: "I feel like we've met before…."

“You only want to go there because you think she'll be there.”

“I do not!” Link retorted, hanging his helmet on Epona's handlebars while holding his phone to his ear with the other hand. “I'm going to study for midterms, like I said. Not my fault you didn't want to come along.”

“And watch Malon making googly eyes at you the whole time? No thanks.”

Link paused halfway through slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “What? Malon?”

He could practically hear the rolled eyes across the phone line. “Oh brother. She's had her eye on you since orientation!”

“Really? How can you tell?”

“Because I have eyes in my head!”

Suddenly, Link spotted a familiar pink backpack weaving through the tables outside the coffee shop, heading towards the door. “Sorry, Navi, gotta go.”

“Hey! Listen to me—“

He hung up and darted over to the front door, managing to reach it just in time. He grabbed the door and pulled it open.

The girl who'd been reaching for it started at his sudden appearance, then let her extended hand fall back to her side. “Oh...thanks!”

She smiled up at him before stepping inside, and for one glorious moment, their eyes met. Link grinned stupidly, but she'd already passed him.

Heart pounding in his chest, Link followed her into Lon Lon Cafe. He stuffed his hands into the pocket of his green hoodie, trying to act casual as he stepped into line right behind her. He glanced up at the girl behind the cash register, and the pleasant giddiness in his chest deflated somewhat as he remembered what Navi had said. Sure enough, Malon spotted him and immediately shot him a grin, tucking a lock of red hair behind her ear. And she kept glancing at him as she listened to the next customer's order.

Link looked back at the girl in front of him instead. Zelda. So was so pretty, her blonde hair pulled back in a half-ponytail, golden earrings dangling from her ears and catching the light.... And there was an elegance to all of her movements, even simply in the way she pulled her wallet out of her purse. Like a princess...if princesses ever graced college-town coffee shops.

Suddenly, she looked over her shoulder and turned to face him. “Hey, do I know you?”

The bottom dropped out of Link's stomach. “What?”

Zelda cocked her head to one side. “I feel like we've met before....”

Link swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. “Uh...History 101. Professor Rauru.”

Zelda's face brightened with recognition, and somehow she looked even more beautiful that way. “That's it! So are you ready for—“

“Next!”

With a little start, Zelda quickly turned around and stepped up to the front of the line. While she was ordering her drink, Link couldn't help noticing that Malon wasn't smiling anymore, but answering Zelda tersely and stabbing at the register with more force than necessary.

When it was his turn to order, Link was a little nervous at how Malon would receive him, but to his relief, the second her eyes landed on him, a huge smile lit up her face again. He might have been imagining things, but he thought he detected a hint of sharpness in her gaze that wasn't there normally. “What can I get you?”

Link opened his mouth to reply, but she talked over him.

“Pumpkin spice latte, right? As usual?”

He'd actually been thinking of trying out something different this time, but she was already ringing him up, and he did like anything pumpkin spice-flavored, so he remained silent and just handed over a couple blue rupee notes.

Zelda was still waiting for her drink at the other end of the counter, and Link's heart skipped a beat when she glanced up from her phone as he strode over to her to wait as well. “So, what's your major?” she asked, her blue eyes bright and interested.

“Uh...undeclared, so far,” Link admitted, feeling his cheeks go warm. “I came in with an archery scholarship, but I don't know if that's what I want to go with....”

“Well, that's okay,” Zelda said. “You're a freshman, right? You've got plenty of time to figure it out.”

“Wait, are you not a freshman?”

Zelda giggled. “Oh—no, I'm a sophomore. I just didn't get around to history last year. I wanted to take harp lessons, and my schedule didn't work out.”

“So you're a music major?” Link brightened at that. Maybe he should've signed up for singing lessons or something after all.

“For now,” Zelda said with a thoughtful frown. “I love the harp, but I've been thinking about switching to political science instead. Do some real good in the world, you know?”

The more they talked, the more relaxed Link felt, just like he was talking to Navi or Saria—except that every time their eyes met, he felt a glorious swoop in his stomach. “Maybe your harp can usher in world peace,” he said with a grin.

As Zelda laughed, the barista slid their drinks across the counter towards them. “So do you play any instruments?”

“Oh, just the ocarina—“

They both reached for their drinks at the same time. Both froze, staring at the backs of their hands. Link's left, Zelda's right. Like a strangely geometric birthmark, against their pale skin was the clear outline of a triangle divided into four smaller triangles. On Link's hand, the smaller triangle on the bottom right was filled in; on Zelda's, it was the bottom left.

Link stared at their hands, the marks upon them perfect mirrors of each other. For his whole life, his soul mark had been there, as familiar a sight as the moles and freckles on his arms. He knew it was supposed to be a reflection of his soul, and the legends went that somewhere out there, his soulmate bore the mirror image of it. But who that person was, or if he'd ever meet them...that just wasn't something he bothered thinking about too much.

Just like anyone, there had certainly been times when he'd wondered who his soulmate was. Growing up, he'd compared soul marks with his friends—Saria had been extremely disappointed when she realized that the swirly mark on her shoulder was nothing like his soul mark. In idle moments, he would daydream about whether his soulmate would turn out to be someone he married, like his parents, or a really good friend, or maybe even one of his children someday.

But then life got busy, and there was no time to think about something so frivolous when school and archery club ate up so much of his time. If he ever met his soulmate, he would deal with it then.

Then was now.

Slowly, Link's eyes traveled up Zelda's arm to her eyes, which were open wide with shock. “Does this mean...?”

“You're...m-my....”

“Oh my!” Zelda's face instantly grew as red as a tomato, and she whirled away from him, covering her cheeks with her hands. Link's eyes were glued to the back of her right hand. The soul mark was unmistakable.

Without warning, Zelda began speed-walking back through the cafe, almost knocking into several people on her way out.

“Wait—Zelda!” Link grabbed both of their drinks and rushed after her, finally catching up to her where she had collapsed into a chair at one of the tables under an umbrella out front.

Hesitantly, Link set Zelda's drink down in front of her, then slipped his backpack off his shoulder and sank into the chair across the table. He looked over at her staring fixedly at the cast-iron tabletop as if she could melt it with a glance.

Just to have something to do, Link sipped his pumpkin spice latte, but it scalded his tongue, so he set it aside.

She was so pretty, even with the blush extending all the way down her neck. Actually, the blush made her look even prettier, the pink tinge of her skin setting off the pink shirt she wore.

She's my soulmate, he thought numbly. All I wanted was to talk to her, maybe ask her out eventually...and she's my soulmate. The most important person in my life.

“Um...sorry,” Zelda said with a shaky laugh, looking up at last and tucking a strand of golden hair behind her ear. “I didn't mean to run out, I just...that took me completely by surprise!”

“Yeah, uh...m-me too.”

They both realized at the same time that they were staring at each other's hands, and broke into nervous laughter.

“So, we're...soulmates.” Zelda let out a long breath. “No, saying it out loud didn't help. It still doesn't sound real.”

A sudden thought occurred to Link that made his heart sink. “Hey, um...just because of this,” he pointed at the back of his hand, “that doesn't mean we have to...I mean, it's just a legend. You don't have to feel, like, obligated to...to hang out with me or....”

To his relief, she smiled sweetly at him. “You're right. But...I'd still like to get to know you. If...you don't mind.”

“No, of course!” Link said, a little too quickly and too loudly. He cleared his throat, his cheeks burning again. “Can I buy you coffee or something sometime? I-I mean, I know we already got coffee, but....” Crap, he was making such a fool of himself....

But Zelda just giggled, hiding her smile behind the hand that bore the mirror image of his soul mark. “Yes, you can take me on a date sometime. But, um...what's your name, anyway?”

“Oh!” They'd been talking all this time, and he still hadn't introduced himself. “It's Link. Nice to meet you.”

Zelda cocked her head to one side. “Link...strange...it feels somehow familiar....”

Link realized he'd felt the same way, the first time he'd learned Zelda's name. He'd passed it off as merely thinking it was a pretty name, but...maybe it was a sign that their souls were bonded to each other.

Either way, as they sat at the coffee shop and continued to get to know each other, everything felt right with the world in a way it never had before.

[melanie-ohara]

My Heart Was Wired in Thorns

Whumpuary2024, Day 03 - Prompt: "Get away from me"

The Dark Urge, Sithla, has her plans interrupted by the Blade of Frontiers

AO3 here

Wyll prodded at the dying embers of the fire with a stick and looked around. Mellephora's meditative trance would be coming to an end soon so they could replace him on watch until morning, but the night was quiet and safe. With the goblins routed and Ethel cut down, Wyll was sure they'd be safe for at least one night - provided no mind flayers showed up to trigger their ceremorphosis up close and personal. He would have forgone watch duty entirely, as Karlach had suggested, but his father's fate was weighing too heavily on his mind. Moonrise Towers was a long hike through the Underdark or over the mountain pass, which would give the Absolute cultists plenty of time to place a wriggling tadpole in his eye…

A flash of movement caught his eye and Wyll looked up from the fire to catch a brief glimpse of silvery blonde disappearing into the treeline. Sithla. Ever since that poor young woman had been slaughtered, Sithla had spent every night bound to a stake Wyll himself hammered into the ground by her bedroll. She insisted on it. He didn't know how she could have freed herself, but it meant something was wrong and he was on his feet before he'd finished his train of thought. He paused before running after her, though - his rapier sat in its sheath on a tree stump a few feet away. If she was armed, and given the collection of blades she kept neatly wrapped next to her pillow he had no reason to believe she wasn't, then he knew he wouldn't stand a chance against the gleeful ferocity he'd seen her unleash. In the second it took him to decide, he lost sight of her in the trees. 

*

Sithla heard a twig snap behind her and knew she was no longer alone. She stepped neatly out of sight behind a tree and waited, hoping it was Astarion out on one of the nightly excursions he thought nobody knew about, or Karlach stomping about looking for a place to pee. 

"I suppose you know I'm here, then." 

Sithla pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. Why did it have to be him?

"Go back to camp, Wyll," she said, staying behind her tree. If the Blade of Frontiers had any sense, he wouldn't come close enough for her to ambush him.

"Why are you out here?" he asked. His voice came slightly from her left now as he circled, trying to find her in the darkness.

Sithla looked down at the rolled up bundle of fabric in her hands and thought seriously about how to answer.

"Are you going to stop me?" she said, stepping cautiously around the trunk of the tree. Wyll wasn't nearly as stealthy as her, but even with one eye and no darkvision he still had keen senses. 

"I'm not armed," Wyll replied, carefully avoiding answering her question.

"Neither am I." It was true, all the pretty knives she had collected were still at camp, and Wyll had probably already found her swords stabbed into the ground at the treeline. She had hoped the others would recognise it as a warning not to come after her.

"Come now, we both know you don't need a blade to kill." Wyll was close now, honing in on the sound of her voice. 

If it had been Shadowheart or Lae'zel, or Calarisa, she might have let them find her. Any of them would make it easy. And quick. But Wyll would try and talk her down, and because it was him she worried he might succeed. There was still a part of her that wanted to stay with the others and fight this darkness. A part that wanted to live. 

"Get away from me, Wyll," she said. Her voice cracked and she didn't try to hide it. "Please, just get away from me."

She heard a footstep behind her, and watched out of the corner of her eye as Wyll prowled right past her. It was over, then. All she had to do was take a few silent steps up behind him and crack his knee with the heel of her boot. Oh, and then she could have some fun with the handsome little goody-two-shoes. How much force did it take to snap a devil's horns? Would he feel it if she plucked that stone eye out of his skull? Would he see inside her if she swallowed it? So many delicious questions to - 

Sithla forced herself to stop moving. She was already raising her foot to strike when she wrestled control back from the urge inside her and lowered it back to the ground, placing it hard enough that Wyll would hear. She thought he might jump, or rush out of her reach, but instead he turned slowly, like he wasn't afraid. He should be afraid.

"There you are," he said, as if they had just been playing hide and seek. He did take a step back then, but it was to move out of her personal space. He stayed just inside the reach of her arm, and Sithla wasn't sure if he was trying to goad her or reassure her. He hadn't been lying about his sword, and unarmed combat was something that came as naturally as breathing and cutting to Sithla. He wasn't safe where he was standing, and they both knew it.

"I wish you would just go ," Sithla said. It had been a long day, but until now she hadn't felt tired. With Wyll between her and the rest of the forest, though, her limbs ached and her mind fogged with such pure exhaustion that she wanted to just collapse to the ground. "I can't pretend I can do this any more," she admitted quietly.

"Do what, exactly?" Wyll asked. Was he trying to delay her? Sithla wondered if he had brought anyone else with him to track her down. Astarion was probably the only person at camp who could sneak up on her, but Mellephora could put an arrow through her throat without stepping away from the fireside. 

Sithla sighed and turned away from him. Astarion was nowhere to be seen, and no arrows rained down on her. "Why aren't you trying to kill me?" she asked.

"For what?" Wyll asked. She could tell from his voice that he hadn't moved. "For slipping your bonds? Maybe I just didn't tie them properly tonight."

Sithla shook her head. "You're a monster hunter," she said, "and I'm - "

"You are not a monster," Wyll interrupted with a fervour in his voice that stung Sithla so deeply she had to turn around and look at him. "You're not," he repeated. There was determination and sadness written across his scarred face and in his devil-red eye. "Think of all the good you've done."

Sithla scoffed. "The good ?"

Wyll nodded. "Stopping the goblins. Stopping Ethel, saving Mayrina. Saving the grove."

"Not everyone in the grove though, remember?" Sithla snapped. 

"That was - "

"Out of my control?" Sithla glared at him. "You think that makes it better? "

"Sithla," Wyll started, reaching a hand out for her shoulder. 

A wave of something like panic hit her and she shoved him back so hard he almost fell. "Get away from me!" she screamed, loud enough that someone at camp would surely have heard. "You see this?" she demanded, snatching up the cloak from the ground where it had fallen and unfurling it for him to see. "This is a gift . A reward for what I did to that defenceless woman. For slaughtering her."

Wyll frowned as he looked the cape over. There was nothing special to see, Sithla knew - an unremarkable blood red cowl made of plain dyed wool and cotton. Compared to the vile creature that had presented it to her it was entirely ordinary. 

"A gift from whom?" he asked eventually. 

Sithla howled in frustration and tossed the cape into the dirt. "Hells, what does that fucking matter?" she demanded. "I don't want this! I don't want any of it! I feel nothing unless there's blood on my hands, and all I think about is how to kill the people around me."

She fell to her knees when she felt the first tears bite at her cheeks. 

"I thought if I could just get out of range of Shadowheart's bloody artefact, I might just…"

Wyll knelt in front of her, but didn't try and touch her again. She couldn't look in his stupid beautiful eyes because she knew exactly what she'd see there, and pity would break her utterly. 

"Ceremorphosis," he finished for her.

Sithla swallowed and nodded. "Yeah. Mind flayers don't feel guilt. Not like this."

Wyll didn't say anything for a long time. Sithla could hear someone trying to be quiet approaching from camp but didn't look around to see who it was or what they were planning to do. At this point, she didn't care. Either Wyll would let her go or put him down herself, she felt sure of that. The pain of ceremorphosis held more appeal to her, and not just because there was a part of the dark urge that gleefully called out for her own suffering. She deserved to die badly.

Finally, Wyll spoke. "Killing Karlach was supposed to be out of my control." His voice was low now, quiet so only she could hear it.

Sithla sniffed and glanced up at his horns. "And look what it got you," she said. 

Wyll smiled at her attempt to insult him, and not for the first time Sithla thought about killing him. He's not used to the balance of his horns, it would only take a quick throw to put him on his back . This time, she managed to keep her limbs to herself, and resisted the temptation to slam Wyll into the dirt.

"My point," he said softly, "is that you can resist a lot more than you might think. Even if there are consequences."

Sithla shook her head and closed her eyes against another flood of tears. "I don't have the strength for that."

This time when he touched her shoulder she didn't try to stop him.

"You aren't alone in this, Sithla. Every one of us is with you." He paused until she finally looked up into his eyes. " I'm with you," he said. She didn't find pity there after all - instead, there was just trust, belief, and affection. 

With a barely stifled sob, Sithla collapsed into his arms, buried her face into the thickly woven cloth of his shoulder, and cried until there was nothing left.

[seigephoenix]

Happy DADWC Friday! I want to see what you make of the prompt "There’s a king sized bed but we can do it on the floor" for a pairing of your choice. Have fun!

Barb! Happy Friday!! For @dadrunkwriting. Elaina Cousland x Nathaniel Howe is who I chose for this prompt. Hope you had a brilliant DADWC!

Content Warning: mentions of an injury, snark, blow jobs, facesitting, p in v, general smuttiness with feelings Length: ~2.4k words

Nathaniel hissed as he wrapped the bandage around his arm after their fight with the blighted wolves.  He thought he’d been more careful but one of the bastards snuck up on him and latched onto his arm.  He’d stabbed it and got away easily enough, but the teeth still left marks.  “Bastards.”  Nathaniel jumped when his door slammed open, and an incredibly angry brunette stood in his doorway.  “My lady.”  He clasped his fingers together in front him as he sat on his bed with nothing but his trousers on.  It didn’t seem to even bother Elaina as she marched herself into the room.

“Are you alright?”  The question surprised him, was she concerned about him?  He couldn’t fathom why she’d be so concerned over someone who made an attempt on her life.  Guilt still weighed heavily on his heart for that after learning the truth of what happened.  Still, he couldn’t understand what would prompt her to just barge into his quarters in the middle of the night.

“I’m fine.”  Her blue eyes narrowed at him which made him sweat.  She had that unnerving way of seeing right through him and his bullshit, ever since they were kids.

“You’re lying to me again.”  He stood and met her by the door, his chest brushing hers.  She didn’t back down though he saw something flicker in those sea blue eyes of hers.  Something that called to that dark place inside his own soul.

“Am I now?  Do you concern yourself so much if Anders or Sigrun get this injured?” He saw the answer on her face before her lips thinned and she took a step back.

“If my concern bothers you so much Nathaniel, then I will leave you be.”  Elaina turned and grasped the doorknob, but his hand slammed the door closed.  Her shudder only fed the beast inside him, the need to have her under him and crying his name.  It set his teeth on edge that she was so close and yet so far.  His lips curved into a smug smile as he felt her body shifting towards his.

“I’m not bothered by your concern,” he said as his lips traced the outer shell of her ear.  He heard the quiet gasp that left her lips, and he clenched his jaw to not just grab her.  “Didn’t your mother ever teach you that it’s not appropriate to visit a man’s bedroom at night, all alone?”  He smirked as he felt her tremble.  He’d stop playing in a moment, even though need clawed at his chest.  He’d give anything to taste her on his lips and tongue.  A need so great it was almost painful.  She’d never be his, and the thought choked him.

He almost took a step back when she whirled around to face him.  “My mother did, in fact, teach me what happens when a young lady goes to a man’s room alone.”  Elaina’s chin tilted as if in challenge to him.

“Oh?  And did she tell you what happens to those ladies that stay?”  Nathaniel knew he was playing a dangerous game.  His body burned with the urge to touch her, to claim her lips under his, and burn away all the bad memories from their minds.  Until all that they could think about was each other.  He studied her face and couldn’t place the look in her eyes.

Her hands came up to his cheeks, gently cupping them in her palms before she pulled him down.  Nathaniel was stunned at her strength, but she paused with her lips just a whisper away from his.  “She did indeed.”  Nathaniel froze when her lips covered his and the faint taste of chocolate brushed across his senses.  He only paused for a second before his hands were full of her.  His fingers tangled in the back of her head as he took the kiss deeper, darker.  The carnal need burst in his chest, and he couldn’t help himself from taking.  His other hand swept down her back until he filled his palm with her ass.  His fingers dug in, and he tasted her moan on his tongue.  Her hands brushed down his chest before dipping her fingers underneath the waistband of his trousers. 

He bit off a curse as those slim fingers wrapped around his cock.  Nathaniel wanted to send a prayer to the gods at the feel of her slowly stroking his cock.  He had a shred of sanity left that he clung to as he took his hand away from her hair and grasped her wrist, stopping her from moving.  “We can’t.  You don’t know what you’re doing.”  Her hand slowly lifted away from him, and he wanted to bring it back, hell he was close to begging.  But he didn’t want her to feel guilty.  Her hands rested on his shoulders, and he yelped when she pushed him over.  His back hit the carpet with a sharp curse leaving his lips.

Before he could react, she was sitting right on top of his cock.  Her knees splayed on either side of his hips and her palms resting on his chest to keep him from moving.  The firelight danced over her features, and he saw a mixture of anger and determination on her face.  “I don’t know what I’m doing is it?” Elaina asked him and Nathaniel had the unbidden thought that he shouldn’t answer her question.  Her hips rolled against him, and his head fell back at the sensation.  Her hands reached up and tugged all her armor off.  She was left only in a silky shift that bunched up at her waist.  His eyes drank her in.  Swollen lips from his kisses, wavy hair falling down her back, skin kissed by the sun softly glowing in the firelight.  He almost spilled himself in his pants when she ground her hips against his.  He reached up but she swatted his hands away.

“Elaina…”  Her name was close to a growl coming from him as the need to touch her was overwhelming him.  She tilted her head with a slow feline smile on her face.  Sweat beaded on his forehead when she leaned down until her breasts pushed against his chest.  His palms itched to feel the weight of them against him.

“You’re going to lie there while I show you that I do, indeed, know what I’m doing.”  Nathaniel wanted to curse at her for that, but he merely reached for her hips.  He let out a feral growl when she pushed his hands away.  “Do you not want me to?”  Her fingers teased the head of his cock through his pants, and he was helpless against her torment.

“Fuck.”  Elaina laughed and that laugh wrapped around him as her fingers had his cock.  He dug his fingers into the plush rug beneath them.  He sucked in a breath when she shifted to kneel between his legs.  “What?”  He didn’t get to finish what he was saying as her lips kissed the head of his cock through the pants.  He was going to die, he was sure of it, but what a way to go.

Her fingers pulled the cloth away and he groaned as her tongue teased him.  Her fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, and she lowered her head until the head of his cock pushed past her lips.  He tightened his fingers in the carpet as his hips arched towards her mouth, he was going to go insane.  She was hot and everything he’d ever wanted.  Nathaniel wasn’t sure how long he could hold out as her mouth tortured him.  Bringing him just to the edge of that precipice before lifting to leave him aching for more.

More than his own orgasm, he wanted to feel her fall apart under his tongue.  To hear his name spill from her lips as her body shattered around him.  He propped himself up on an elbow and the sight of her lips wrapped around his cock brought him almost to that edge alone.  He reached for her hair, tangling his fingers in the dark strands.  “Elaina.”  He bit off a curse as she looked up at him.  Maker’s breath she’ll be the death of me.  His cock twitched at the sight and her lips curved into a sultry smile before slipping off his cock with a slick pop.

“What is it, Nathaniel?”  She leaned forward until his cock nestled between her breasts.  She chuckled at the curse that spilled from his lips.  She was stunned when he reached for her, yanking until her thighs cradled his head.  He met her eyes with the same stubborn light in hers as she kept her weight completely off of him.

“Quit that.”  He wrapped his hands around her thighs and tugged but she wasn’t budging.  “Elaina…”  He felt the tremble in her thighs as he growled her name.

“No.”  Nathaniel was startled by the petulant tone, and he grit his teeth before yanking.  She let out a startled noise but he was finally, finally, able to taste her.  Nathaniel groaned as her taste filled his senses and those trembling thighs squeezed his face.  He felt her fighting him but he merely tightened his hold on her.  “Nathaniel…”  His cock twitched as his name ended on a moan on her lips.  He was going to lose his mind.  Her fingers dove into his hair, and he groaned as her nails scratched his scalp.  He felt her body throbbing above him and felt the moment she was about to fall off the edge.  With a smug grin he pulled away.

“What?  But.”  Elaina groaned as she saw the look in his eyes.  “You’re mean.”

“So you’ve always said.”  His thumbs brushed the inside of her thighs, and she squirmed over him.  His chin was covered with her arousal and he wanted nothing more than to bury his face between her thighs again, but he wanted something more.  Elaina gasped when his hands grasped her waist and flipped them.  Her thighs cradled his waist as he leaned down over her keeping his weight braced on his forearms.  “Many, many times.”  His lips trailed up her neck to her jaw, relishing the shudder that went through her.

“Nathaniel,” she whispered as he teased the corner of her lips.  Her hands came up and turned his head until their lips met in a quiet kiss.  It humbled him to feel the depth of that kiss.  “If you don’t fuck me soon, I may just fire you from the Wardens.”  Nathaniel paused as her words sank in before he burst out laughing.

“Holding my job over my head?”  He reached between them and freed his cock from his pants, nestling it between her thighs to nip at her neck.  Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she rolled her hips against him.  “What if I like having you at my mercy like this though?  Teasing you has always been a pleasure.”  His lips trailed over her jaw, her cheeks, her temple, and the tip of her nose.  Elaina lightly smacked his shoulder with her hand and he chuckled before capturing her lips in a devouring kiss, just as he slid his cock into her welcoming heat.  He tasted his name on her lips and he would get addicted.  He rolled his hips against hers smiling against her lips when her nails dragged down his back.  There’d be so many questions from their companions, but Nathaniel didn’t care.  He had her where he’d always wanted her.  Her teeth tugged at his bottom lip as his hips thrust against hers.

“Nathaniel.”  He shuddered at that breathy voice of hers.  Her legs wrapped around his waist as she met him thrust for thrust.  His forearm stung in pain but he ignored it.  Surprise flickered through him as she rolled them, and she sat down on his cock.  “You’re bleeding again.”  He glanced at his arm and cursed at the bandage.

“It’s fine.”  His fingers dug into her hips but she splayed her palm out over his chest to his eternal frustration.

“No.  You just sit there and enjoy the view.”  She smirked at him before her hips rocked against his and his head fell back.  He was going to beg her soon.  Beg her to always be at his side.  Pride be damned.  He reached between them and pressed his thumb against her clit.  She moaned his name and her body squeezed his cock with each pass of his thumb over her.

“Fuck.  Elaina.  I’m.”  Nathaniel hissed as he felt his orgasm building.  Not before her.  He bit down on the inside of his cheek as he concentrated on her clit, teasing her with slow gentle circles.  Her thighs tightened around his hips and her head fell back.  He felt the spasms around his cock and bit off a curse as he came as well.  His name was a litany from her lips as she rode his cock to the end of her orgasm.  She slumped forward and braced herself on either side of his head.

“Nathaniel.”  He shook his head to cut off whatever she was going to say.

“You can say what you want when we get into that bed.”  He pointed towards his bed and she couldn’t help but laugh.  “I should have taken you there rather than the floor…”  Elaina sat up straight and his eyes followed her from where they were joined to the slight pink riding on her cheeks.  His heart turned over at the stubborn light in her eyes.

“Who took who?  I seem to recall it wasn’t you that pushed me to the floor.”  She grinned at him as he had the grace to flush at that reminder.  She slowly eased off of him and stood beside the bed.  He joined her side and grasped her wrist bringing her fingers to his lips.  He pressed a kiss to each of them before resting her palm against his cheek.

“That won’t be the last time.”  Elaina looked up at him and whatever she saw in his eyes had her features soften.  She turned and her lips touched his in an achingly tender kiss, a kiss that had all her feelings in it.  He was humbled and returned her kiss pouring his feelings into the touch as well.  “Next time I’m not letting you leave my bed until you scream my name.”  He grinned at her as he rested his forehead against hers.

“Nathaniel!”  He laughed as he swept her in his arms and dropped her on the bed despite her shriek promising vengeance.  He hoped laughter never left their lives as she came up cursing his name.

[bluesylveon2]

Kalim and 98??

I am so sorry for the wait! I have been so busy with my clinic rotation and writing other stuff but it is here! I hope that you enjoy it, anon :)

Prompt: 98.  I’ve been hired to kill you, but you don’t seem that concerned??? 

Note: Modern au, aged up characters, some fluff and angst. Akh means brother in Arabic (someone let me know if I used this right) and jallab is a type of middle eastern drink.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: not beta read and possible OOC characters

Masterlist

"Is everything set?"

"Yeah. I will make sure to distract Jamil, Jade is ready as backup, and Floyd will be on the lookout. You focus on getting the work done."

"On it," Yuu replied, changing into more appropriate clothes. 

"Oh, and Yuu?" 

"Yes, Azul?'

"Good luck. You're going to need it."

---

Kalim ran as fast through the gigantic halls. According to his father, a new servant was coming in today who was Kalim's age. Kalim, being the kind person he was, wanted to show the new person around and potentially make a new friend. He was so excited that he forgot to even mention it to Jamil. Kalim had made it to the entrance, where he saw a girl staring at the house in awe. 

"Ah! Welcome to the Asim Palace! You must be the new maid! My name is Kalim Al Asim and you are?”

"Yuuka Crowley." She replied with a smile, "Thank you for welcoming me. Your house is so beautiful." 

Kalim smiled so brightly that it could rival the sun. "Thank you! The fun thing about this place is that it is not only a home but can be used for government functions, ceremonies, and more!"

Ah, that's right. That's one reason Yuu had to assassinate Kalim; because of how much power his family holds in the city. Yuu had heard about the Asim family before. They were known for building the Silk City economy and making background bribes for their heir, Kalim, to live luxuriously. Yuu scoffed at the thought. Kalim got everything at his beck and call, and what did she get? Fighting for her life to survive until the Headmaster, her boss took her in. That was where she met people like Azul and made a living killing the rich. Yuu knew this would be challenging, especially with the means they took to remove Jamil from the way. 

Suddenly, Yuu felt a tug on her arm, and she was being pulled in an unknown direction. 

"C'mon! Let me show you around the place! Let me show you the way around before you start working." Kalim's smile grew even more. Little did Yuu know that her heart skipped a beat at the sight.

---

Yuu patted down her dress as she trailed behind Kalim. The two have been up, down, and all around the Asim Palace, which started giving Yuu a headache. How someone could live in such a grand house was something Yuu would never know. The girl did not have time to ponder on the thought. She had a mission to finish. Her eyes wandered to the boy, blissfully unaware of what was happening as he rambled about the history behind the house. Yuu's skin brushed on the knife hidden inside of her sleeve. All she needed were a few seconds to pull it out and stab the heir for an instant kill. It was a shame, an innocent life like Kalim about to meet his fate when he had only shown her one-fourth of the house. 

Damn, rich people and their confusing palace-like homes. Yuu thought bitterly as she moved her arm to expose the knife. She just needed to get into position first and-

"THERE HE IS!"

"Wait-oof," Kalim exclaimed while falling as a pair of kids jumped on him. Yuu immediately jumped back and expected the scene. She thought it was so cute that she hid her laughter behind her hand. "What are you doing here?" Kalim laughed and gently pushed the kids off of him. 

One boy, who looked like a mini version of Kalim, pouted. "Akh! You promised that you were going to play with me today!"

Kalim opened his mouth to reply but was stopped by a little girl with the same red eyes. 

"No, he was supposed to play with me!" She replied, causing the other boy to glare at her.

Kalim scratched the back of his neck. "Omar. Aisha. I promise that I will play with you later. I am giving my friend, Yuu, a tour."

Two pairs of eyes turned to Yuu, and suddenly, she felt like she was being exposed. It was like their glares would reveal all of the hidden weapons under her dress. 

"Are you his girlfriend?" They both asked, causing Yuu and Kalim to blush.

"NO!"

"WE JUST MET!"

"But you're both red?" They tilted their heads cutely, almost causing Yuu to squeal and try to pinch their cheeks. 

Kalim somehow regained his senses and sighed. "Why don't you two stay in your rooms, and I will come by after I'm done, okay? We can play together with Yuu."

Both children pouted. "You promise?"

Kalim smiled and kneeled down. He extended a pinky out, "I promise." The children giggled and locked their pinkies with Kalim's. 

Yuu watched the interaction and smiled sadly. She only knew a little about her childhood besides training next to Azul and the Tweels daily. They were the closest she had as brothers, and they rarely played or acted like normal kids. Their childhood was taken away the moment they entered NRC. 

"Yuuka?"

Yuu jumped and looked at the smiling Kalim, who was now alone.

Seriously, that boy always had a smile. She had never seen him make another face the entire day she knew him. 

"Did you need something?"

Kalim grinned before grabbing Yuu's hand. "There's a place I want you to see. You're going to love it!"

---

The first thing Yuu noticed when she entered Asim Park was the large fountain with a peacock statue in the middle.

"Woah…" She said in awe and ran up to the crystal clear water. The water shined brightly like diamonds, and it looked very different from the ocean her best friends were fond of. She would gladly show them this fountain if this were a regular trip. She could even see Floyd jumping in for a swim.

"Beautiful, huh?" Kalim's voice was close now and had a hint of amusement. Yuu jumped and looked away; her face was dusted with red. 

"Yeah. It is gorgeous."

Kalim smiled and looked up at the large statue. "This whole fountain was inspired by the Princess of the Scalding Sands' fountain. Every hour, water shoots out so the peacock looks like it has feathers. In fact, it even glows with many colors at night."

"Maybe we could see it later tonight?" Yuu looked to Kalim. Internally, wanted to laugh at herself. There was no way she was going to see herself. 

Kalim turned to face Yuu. "You should! We can watch it together."

Yuu smiled brightly for once in her life and nodded. If only it were a perfect world…

"Some treats for you, Kalim." A new but recognizable voice entered as Jade (while wearing a disguise) set a tray with two glasses of ice-cold jallab down on the fountain's ledge. 

Kalim stared at the treats and laughed nervously. "Thank you, but I only take what Jamil makes and serves me. It is nothing personal."

Jade smiled his butler-like smile. "None taken. It was Jamil who wanted me to give these to you anyway, but he is too occupied at the moment too."

Kalim paused for a moment before replying. "Alright. I trust him." He grabbed a nearby cup and brought it up to his lips. Yuu felt sweat form as the liquid moved closer and closer. Her goal was getting closer and closer, yet she felt herself feel sad. The thought of seeing Kalim's bright personality go away did not sit right in Yuu's chest. The liquid was only a centimeter away from Kalim when he stopped. He threw the contents on the ground and looked at Yuu. Yuu's breath hitched when she saw the hint of disappointment in his eyes. "You know, this smells very familiar."

Yuu froze at Kalim's calm tone. She and Jade did not know what to do but maintained a calm facade. 

"Many people have been targeting me since I was young because I am the heir to the Al Asim name."

"Kalim, I-"

Kalim raised a hand to stop her. "You don't have to apologize. I knew something was up when I noticed Jamil not trying to find me and when this servant-" He pointed at Jade. "-even brought me two glasses of jallab. He claimed it was from Jamil, but I never told Jamil I would give the new servant a tour. Despite my suspicions, I still wanted to show you around the place because-" Kalim slowly placed his hand on top of Yuu's, holding it gently. Yuu did not move away but blushed instead. "I saw a light in you and wanted you to be my friend."

Yuu looked down at their hands and then at Kalim's garnet-red eyes. There was no hint of hate or anger in them. Instead, they were filled with happiness and something Yuu could not describe. It was an unfamiliar feeling. Maybe she had yet to experience it, or she just started feeling it after meeting Kalim. 

BANG

Yuu could not figure out the feeling because the door to Asim Park opened, and standing there was a young man with long black hair. Yuu recognized him from the debrief report; he was Jamil Viper, Kalim's closest retainer. 

"Get away from him!" Jamil yelled and quickly made his way to the two.

It felt like time slowed down for Yuu, and she was stuck. Jamil's appearance compromised the mission, and who knew where Azul was? Yet, Kalim's eyes were pleading for her to stay.

Who had the most priority? The mission of Kalim?

Yuu's eyes landed on Jade's heterochromatic ones, and he nodded like he knew what she needed to do. Yuu looked away to hide her watery eyes. She placed a hand inside her pocket and firmly grasped a round object. "I'm sorry, and thank you for everything, Kalim."

"WAIT!" Kalim yelled, but smoke filled his vision, causing the boy to close his eyes and cough on instinct. Kalim fell to the ground as multiple voices were yelling around him. 

"We need to go now!"

"What about Verde?"

"Worry about yourself first!"

"KALIM!"

He could hear Yuuka (if that was even her name), the suspicious servant, an unknown male voice, and Jamil happening simultaneously. His head hurt from the chaos around him, but his heart ached with despair. 

"Kalim! Are you okay?" Jamil's voice called out, now close by.

Kalim opened his eyes, and Jamil now stood where Yuuka(?) once was. The smoke and girl were gone, and Asim Park was quiet. Kalim's hand still tingled from her touch. Kalim felt tears in his eyes.

One of his newest friends was gone like she was never there in the first place. 

A/N: What did Azul do? Set out a lot of bugs for Jamil :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

©: This story belongs to bluesylveon2 2020-23. DO NOT modify, republish, or plagiarize my work.