#but hey it fits storm did get into a knife fight and the knife is really really really sharp

[kira-the-whump-enthusiast]

A Really, Really, Really Sharp Knife - Diamonds to Dust Ch3

Synopsis: Take some proper Storm whump- they’re on the run with a knife in their abdomen :)

Content: Villain whump, stabbing, pursuit, anxious caretaker

Taglist: @whump-queen @ghostsinthecloset

---

Storm practically falls against the brick wall of the alleyway, taking ragged, heavy breaths. They clutch at the dagger skewered in their torso and try not to give in to the overwhelming nausea. Everything hurts; it feels like they’re drowning in pain, and they’re so tempted to give up and collapse to the ground.

But they can’t, not now, not when they’re being pursued. Storm isn’t completely sure they can still move very much, but they have to. The alternative is getting caught by the hero who knifed them in the first place. They’ve already been here too long anyways. Droplets of red are scattered on the ground, forming a trail leading right to them. If they linger, they risk letting their pursuer catch up to them.

So Storm forces themself to stagger away from the alleyway. Running is utterly beyond them now. They stumble down a quiet street lined with townhouses. Most of them seem empty.

Storm starts to feel dizzy, and they’re not sure if it’s from the blood loss or if it’s from the panic. They don't know where to go, they barely recognize this neighborhood, and their home is so far away from here.

If they could just get to a landline or a payphone—they could call Xavier for help. Except, there’s nothing of the sort on this street.

Their head is pounding, and they want to scream. I’m going to die here, aren’t I? If that hero doesn’t kill me, then losing all this blood definitely will.

They can’t. They can’t die like this, not to a stupid hero, and not because of a stupid bank robbery.

Still holding onto hopes of getting away, Storm takes a few shaky steps forward. Then they notice something and abruptly stop.

It’s the house they’re standing in front of. They recognize it. One of their classmates lives here, Zuri Msuya. They’d stopped by a couple of times a while ago, to work on a project with her.

Storm hasn’t talked to her much since, but this is their last hope. They stuff their mask in the pocket of their shorts, lower their hood, and make their way up her front steps with excruciating effort.

They knock on the door as hard as they can. Storm feels close to collapsing, but they try to stand on their own anyways.

After a few moments that seem like an agonizing eternity, the door opens, and Zuri is standing in the doorway. She’s home, thank the stars for that. Her face is a picture of plain shock, and she opens her mouth, but no words come out.

Storm wants to offer some sort of explanation or greeting, but they feel so disoriented. They sway on their feet, and their legs give out under them. They almost fall to the ground, but Zuri catches them at the last moment. She holds them steady in her arms.

She shakes her head in disbelief. “Oh my—oh my god…” she stutters out in horror. “What the hell happened to you?”

Storm tries to say something, but their throat is too dry and they can’t muster up the energy to speak.

“I’ll call an—I’ll call an ambulance right away. You need to get to the hospital right now,” Zuri tells them with a shaky voice.

Their eyes widen and their heart skips a beat. That makes Storm terrified. There's no doubt that the heroes have notified the hospitals about a villain with their description. If they walk inside an emergency room, they’ll definitely be arrested.

“D-d-don’t…” they manage to stammer out. “D-don't, please… I just need…” They stop to catch their breath, already too strained by just saying a few words. “I need to use your phone…”

They pray to no god in particular that Zuri will let them.

She bites her lip and tersely replies, “Okay,” and starts to lower them onto the front step.

“W-wait, please, please take me inside…” Storm pleads desperately. They’re so scared that the hero hunting them down will dart down the street at any moment.

Zuri doesn’t seem sure if that’s a good idea at first, but she switches gears and gingerly carries them inside.

Her house is small and cluttered, so she’s forced to lay them on the wooden floor. She quickly grabs a pillow for Storm’s head with an apologetic look on her face. Zuri looks like she wants to say something, but she doesn’t know what. After a few moments of worriedly scanning over Storm’s injuries, she gets up and walks into another room.

She returns with a cordless phone in her hand, which she passes over to Storm. They mouth a thank you.

“I’ll—I’m going—I’m going to get some bandages for you,” Zuri proclaims. She leaves the room again, but she looks nervous about doing so.

While she’s gone, Storm goes to dial Xavier’s number with shaking hands. It takes them a couple of tries to enter it right, and they frown in slight frustration.

Xavier picks up after just a few rings.

“Storm?” They’re aware that they’re the only one with this number, so Storm isn’t surprised that Xavier knows it’s them.

“Yeah, it’s me...”

“My god, where are you? Are you okay? You’ve been the focus of the afternoon news, all they’re talking about is how you’re at large! Don’t tell me you got caught.” Xavier is talking a mile a minute, but he pauses just long enough for Storm to say something.

“I’m fine… okay, well, I guess—I guess I’m not actually fine. But no one’s arrested me or—or anything… I’m at the house of someone I know…” they mutter into the speaker. “Here, lemme give you the address… can you get someone to… to pick me up?”

They recite it to Xavier, and he responds, “I’m sending Claire to pick you up right now. In the meantime, I’ll sort this whole thing out. Stay there, got it?”

“Mhm…”

“I need to go now, but call me if you get into any trouble, okay?”

“As always,” Storm mutters.

“...I love you, you know that?”

“Hehe… of course I do.” Storm can’t help but smile.

“Good, good.” Storm hears a hint of relief in Xavier’s voice. “Alright, bye for now.” Then Xavier hangs up, and the call ends.

Storm lays the phone on the floor at about the same time that Zuri walks in with a first aid kit in her hands. She sits next to them and hastily opens the kit.

“I can’t—I can’t just let you die of blood loss or something.” The words tumble out of her mouth as she prepares some bandages, “So here—lemme get you patched up.”

---

AN: This is actually the first third chapter I’ve ever finished! I’m officially making this into a series now :D

It’s gonna be called Diamonds to Dust! The chapters will be however long I feel like making them, and they aren’t always gonna be released in chronological order.

[darylbae]

would you write smth for daryl x reader where reader had to fight her way out of one of the outposts and can’t stop scrubbing her hands. to the point where the skin is really sore. maybe he kisses the tops of her hands. washing them one more time at her ask. but gently with warm soapy water. maybe he puts cream on them and wraps them in a bandage.

what if it gets worse — daryl dixon🩰

in which you can't seem to get the blood off your hands, but daryl is there to help

note: i hope this is what you meant anon

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

This felt too far. Even for you. You had killed too many walkers to count, you weren't the sweetest like Beth once was, you could drive straight past a helpless man. But the plan you were currently driving to execute, was too far for you. You sat with your hands in your lap, trying to stop them from trembling. You were tough, everyone knew it, you knew it. But this felt like you were driving to your death. There was no coming back from this. The RV you were driving in was dark, the air was unsettling, nobody would talk above a whisper. Turn back, Abe. Please. Realize this is a mistake. You were pulled out of your thoughts by Daryl, who laced his fingers around yours. The two of you had always been on the same frequency, it's why you bonded as close as you were. You were the same person in different fonts, but you differed where it mattered. Daryl could feel you were in your own head. He wanted this matter dealt with, he wanted to go back to pretending to hate Alexandria. He wanted his only problem to be fitting in. Not this. You felt a war looming, a deep, dark black hole about to suck you in. Something bad was going to happen. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow. "Hey," his voice was small, only for you to hear, "you're okay." He brought your hand up to his mouth, peppering small kisses to your knuckles, which were turning white with your grip on his hand. Anything to steady your own nerves. Your hand was small in his, his fingers twice the width of yours. You enjoyed observing his hands, his arms, his smile. Studying Daryl had been your favorite pastime. "Remember when we almost crashed on my bike once because you wouldn't stop tickling me?" He questioned, seeing the sides of your mouth rise into a sweet smile. "There's that smile." The RV had come to a stop and your quick-lived happiness had died. You took hold of the knife in your lap, letting everyone pile off before you did. Daryl took the moment of silence to touch your cheek and bring you into a small kiss. "You can do this." You weren't so sure. Rick had been through the plan, each of you with a role to do. Hide in the van, wait until they're alone, go in for the kill, storm the building.

And you did just that. You escaped having to kill the first two, all you did was storm the building with them. You'd all split into two, you'd gone alongside Daryl, and you were instructed to kill these people in their sleep. People, bad people, who had no idea tonight was their last night. You knew they were terrible people, the pictures on their walls were only a fraction of evidence, but weren't you also just as bad? Killing walkers was one thing, this was an entirely new level of fucked up. The squelch as you'd sunk the knife into their temple made you cringe, and blood had come pooling out. Your first instinct was to reach for it and cover it up, and in doing so, blood had covered your fingers and palms in thick, red blood. You felt nauseous, the knife in your hand feeling close to slipping, you made made a mess of this. The rest of the outpost was the same, knife through the temple, the occasional sounds of bullets thwipping past you to enter the bodies of some unfortunate Saviors. The shakes had spread, your knees almost buckling from the insecurity of your feet. Daryl was quick to notice and wrap an arm around you, securing you against him. "I got ya, sweetheart. Come on." His voice was the only thing you could hear, his arms were the only thing you could feel, and you'd walked with him out onto the open field surrounding the outpost. Daylight was starting to show, you'd heard a radio going off... Something about Maggie and Carol... You'd fallen to your knees to recollect yourself, everyone's heads turning to locate where this mysterious radio caller was. Your brain was off, your body was on. The group on the radio had taken Maggie and Carol to a slaughterhouse, and managed to fight their way out, to your relief. You couldn't take another death on your hands. The blood on your hands had dried, stained between the grooves of your fingerprints. You couldn't look at your hands without feeling sick, but Daryl could happily take your hands in his and distract you. It's something he'd grown to be good at. He shuffled closer into you, pulling your legs over his, and gesturing to his shoulder. "Come 'ere, girl." But you couldn't stop staring at your hands. The blood cracking and flaking on your hands, the feeling of sliding the knife into their brain haunted you. Even as you'd arrived back in Alexandria, you hadn't stopped to tell the tale to others, you'd broken off from the group the moment you left the RV. It wasn't until you were in the home you shared with Daryl, that the tears had started to fall. They were terrible people, you kept reminding yourself. But it wasn't enough.

You'd pushed yourself into the bathroom, rinsing your hands under the taps and scrubbing at your skin. You'd used a scourer, and rag, all of which needed to be binned afterwards. The blood kept flowing through your hands, out of the taps, covering you in guilt. The blood wouldn't wash off. Daryl had finally got himself back, a worried heartbeat echoing in his chest as to your disappearance. In the distance, he heard the tap running and assumed you were getting yourself ready for bed. But the worry hadn't settled. Even before breaching the outpost, you had that look in your eye. Daryl knew you. In and out. He could find you in the dark. He could tell when things weren't right. So when he'd seen you in the midst of a full Lady Macbeth breakdown, he'd dropped everything. All of his own worries and anxieties. Nothing mattered more to him than you. He took your hands in his, seeing pale red water from the residue on your hands, and it all clicked. "Please, Dar," you cried softly, "help me get it off." Daryl's eyebrows wobbled at the sight of you, emotion threatening to expose itself. He'd grabbed a towel, wrapping your hands in it tightly and sitting you down on his lap on the bathroom floor. You sobbed against his chest, the warmth of his skin would usually comfort you, but you couldn't settle. Not even in the safety of your home, or the walls surrounding your community. Daryl couldn't say it's okay, it wasn't. Nothing about this was okay, but the most he could do was hold you. Give you his company.

And you did, the pair of you sat quietly together until your sobs had reduced to little sniffles. Daryl's hands held you tightly to his body, and that alone had been enough to keep you from descending further into this breakdown. "Dar," you spoke, voice cracking and sadness still stuck in your throat. He looked up, his sorrowful eyes upon yours and you knew he'd do anything for you. No matter the time of day or the complexity of what you wanted, you knew he'd do it for you. "Please wash my hands for me. I need it to be gone." He nodded, helping you and himself up to lean over the sink once more. He'd plugged the sink and filled it with warm, soapy water, submerging the both of your hands. His fingers slid over your hands, massaging the soap into all the crevices, and under your nails. He made sure to be thorough, and used a new towel to pat your hands dry. They looked sore, red raw from the scrubbing. "Come on," Daryl whispered, leading you into your shared room, reaching for the selection of creams you kept on the nightstand. He'd taken care of you, silently and efficiently making sure you were okay, not a word to be exchanged between the two of you. You'd climbed back into his lap, head on his shoulder and you felt a little more eased. Not entirely okay, but safer with Daryl. "What if this gets worse?" You asked, glancing up at his eyes which were already fixed on yours. "Then you got me to protect ya," he replied, "I won' let a thing hurt ya, not a hair on ya head. Okay?"

[mirainawen]

chasm, straw in the wind, and crooked storm on carson pass

chasm.

summary: rising from the dead is practically another tuesday for winchesters. a milligan, however…

it immediately follows getting garth'd. sam and dean went off grid after the trials to allow sam time to heal and dean time to nurse his regrets. the two are on the rocks after dean's stunt with gadreel, not the least of reasons why being gadreel's attempt on kevin's life (an angel of the lord is supposed to protect a prophet of the lord, so the attack awoke another latent power of prophets, smiting).

finding out that their long locked up half-brother is topside again is somehow the best and last thing the two of them need right now. the chasm, as they say, isn't fixed yet.

Dean stares across the room, index finger tapping the table—one, two, three, an unconscious mimicry of the clock. The ticking was the only other sound in the room.

“Okay,” he finally says, letting his hand fall. Sam stirs at his voice. “Walk me through it again.”

Benny doesn’t sigh. His expression says it, loud and clear. “Story ain’t gonna change, Dean.”

He glances at Sam, who, arms braced on his knees and hands clasped, lets his shoulders rise heavily and fall under the look. The lines around his eyes and mouth are deep again, and not just from the lack of sleep. The knife’s edge they’d all been balanced on was crawling down their spines.

He leans away from it. “So you’re sayin’ Adam…what? Just waltzes outta the cage, takes a little jaunt through hell til he finds an exit and just…stumbles into the only monster in all of Purgatory who isn’t gonna tear him limb from limb on sight?”

Benny’s lip curls in the shadow of a smile. “Looks like it.”

::

straw in the wind.

summary: there's a crack in sam's glass house. (adam's on the warpath.)

concussed after a particularly bad exorcism, sam speaks to adam about the cage for the first time. he implies that adam doesn't quite...fit with him and dean. that adam's not relentless or aggressive enough to make a good hunter, unaware not being okay with sam tends to push adam over the edge. thus pushed, adam goes on a reckless hunting spree (affectionately termed the "fuck you sam tour" by writer and captive audience of a bff who must be hit by ideas thrown her way until she cries "ow!"). distracted by sam, dean doesn't put the pieces together about a "hunter off the rails" and adam's (not...atypical) radio silence. when garth finally calls dean to "come get your boy", sam and dean hit the road to find him and talk him down off the ledge. sam makes an old yeller reference. dean hears the first distant sounds of sirens.

“Dean?” he called, but there’s no answer. He could try his other brother…other brother? Adam. Right. It was about Adam. He was gonna tell Dean something about Adam, it was…they needed to tell Adam something. He groaned, rubbing his forehead.

Connecting the threads of his thinking lately had been a killer. The pieces often had sharp edges, slipping through his grasp. Getting this far hurt like a bitch. The meds couldn’t kick in fast enough. But when they did, he didn’t really think any clearer, just hurt a little less. He clung to  the pieces, finding his phone in hand.

Call Adam. Adam hated that. Couldn’t be bothered to answer texts. Everything was always on his terms. Sam hated that.

“Sam?” Adam’s voice sounded…surprised? Maybe a little worried. Definitely a bit distracted.

“Hey. Adam.” Those two words felt like they took a lungful each.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah?” He pressed the heel of his hand to his head, fighting back the dizzying little edges of light dancing about his peripheral.

Adam hissed. “Well it’s not like you call. Why are you calling?” The demand annoyed him.

He huffed a sound that takes all the air out of his lungs again. “Because you…don’t want us to.” It was like, one of so many rules Sam did not understand.

“Cause Winchesters only call when they need something.”

The implication irritated him further. “Okay, well, I need to tell you something.”

“If it’s that Dean is overbearing, he’s your favorite brother, Sam, I don’t want to hear it. Why’d you crack your skull open anyway?”

He opened his mouth, and yanked the phone away as a messy, confusing sound crackled over the line. He forgets the line of questioning as bright spots dance behind his eyes.

“Sam?” Adam’s voice broke back through. “I’m really busy. Can we not play-at happy family right now? I’m sure Dean will be overjoyed to make sure you have company while you recover.”

::

crooked storm on carson pass.

summary: accused of a crime he didn't commit, joe wiles his time in a carson pass jail while adam tries to prove his innocence. at every turn, the local sheriff seems to be one step ahead. has adam finally met his match?

“JOE!” He barked, causing Joe to jerk clean out of the bed, rolling off onto his back in a graceless heap.

Joe groaned and touched the back of his head as he half-sat up. “Galldang you, Adam,” he protested mulishly, peering at his brother in rebuke. “What’s the big idea, huh?” He prodded at his head and winced.

“Well, Joe, that’s what I’d like you to tell me.” Adam gestured at himself before folding his arms and peering down at his brother.

Joe groaned again as he sat up, and glanced at his brother under knotted brows. “Well maybe you should tell me - you’re so smart.” Which was Joe’s way of saying he didn’t appreciate Adam’s tone of voice.

“Then I will.” Adam shot back, censure bordering on condescending in that way that was Adam’s of saying that Joe was in for a lecture. “You’re supposed to be in Zephyr Cove.”

This time when Joe groaned it was pure frustration. “Yes, well, obviously I’m not.” He threw out a hand, encompassing the jail, and climbed to his feet. “So go ahead. Lecture away, Older Brother - I don’t really have any other option, do I?”

And maybe it was the set of Joe’s jaw or the fact that he was so mulish, standing there framed by cell bars with the bed clothes piled about his feet, but Adam found he derived no pleasure from fighting with someone who couldn’t fight back. And Joe loved to fight back.

If anyone had ever pointed out to Adam that Joe did follow his examples, he would have argued the opposite - but if someone had ever pointed out that Joe had learned how to argue with authority from watching Adam argue with their father, he would have stormed away in a speechless rage.

[halfwaythereroyalwrites]

Long Enough (Oscar “Spooky” Diaz x Reader) Kilig One-Shot

Pairing: Oscar “Spooky” Diaz x Reader (tried to make this as gender neutral as possible)

Warnings: Fluffy not smutty like the title suggests 😅. Secondhand embarrassment from flirting. Mention of buying snacks. Play fighting. No other warnings I can think of unless your secondhand embarrassment is really bad. 

Word count: 2k+

Kilig is a Tagalog word to describe the feeling of excitement and exhilaration and possibly embarrassment from anything remotely romantic.

Masterlist

______________________________________

“Don’t you have some ‘important Santos business’ to do,” you teased, crossing your arms over your chest to reserve some warmth. 

“Nah, I thought we could go somewhere tonight,” Oscar replied, looking up at you from the driver’s seat of his red ‘63 Chevy Impala. Even from where you stood, you could smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne wafting through the air. The very cologne he knew drove you wild and therefore refused to name, no matter how many times you asked. A slight breeze blew between you, sending a chill through your body. These cold LA nights were rare, and it caught you by surprise to be caught in one when walking home from Monse’s place. 

The younger girl had asked you to have a night in with her to help take her mind off the latest drama with Cesar, and you happily obliged. Well...it was supposed to only be you and Monse. Five minutes into the night, Ruby and Jamal had shown up, eager to get in on a night of face masks, movies, and snacks. You didn’t realize how late it had been until you checked your phone and realized it was close to their curfew. After bidding Monse goodbye, you ushered Ruby and Jamal out and walked them back to their respective homes. This is how you got here now, in the middle of the street, talking to the big, bad leader of the Santos, Oscar Diaz. 

Better known as Spooky. 

“Where exactly are we going?” you asked, “There’s not much open right now.” 

“Just get in the car. I thought you liked mystery and shit,” Oscar quipped, his signature smirk on his full lips. Your eyes narrowed at his answer, wondering what Oscar had in mind. Your time with Oscar consisted of movie nights at his place with tension so thick, you can cut through it with a knife. This was new and unexpected, and you weren’t sure if the fluttering feeling in your chest was a good thing or a bad thing yet. “Come on. I know your ass is freezing out here.” 

You let out a dramatic sigh and walked over to the passenger’s side, mumbling loud enough for him to hear, “you’re lucky I’m fucking freezing out here...with your mysterious ass.” The passenger’s door was pushed open from the inside by Oscar, and you quickly ducked in and shut the door. Oscar shut the windows on his side, and you quickly did the same with your window, shutting out the air from further freezing you. He thankfully blasted the heater, and you wasted no time in adjusting the heaters to point directly at you, thawing the LA cold out of your body. “Why do you always drive with all your windows down? It’s so cold! See, feel!” Without warning, you grasped Oscar’s forearm with your cold, clammy hands. 

Oscar sucked air in through his teeth at your sudden intrusion but did not make a move to pry your hands away, “Fuck, you’re cold!” 

“See?! Ugh this is Southern California. We should never be this cold.” You retracted your hands away from him, realizing you were still holding on to his arm.

He smirked at the sight of you placing your face inches away from the nearest heater, the heater blowing your hair back, before shrugging, “I don’t know. I can warm you up if you want.” His voice became lower with every word he said, and you took notice of his raised eyebrow directed at you. 

You cleared your throat, which has suddenly become dry, before saying, “Can we please get something hot to drink before we go?” 

Oscar kissed his teeth before breaking out into a wide smile, making you forget the need to breathe for the briefest moment “Sure, buckle in.” 

“Ugh thank you!” You reached around and buckled yourself into your seat and proceeded to lean closer to the heaters. The car was silent as he steered one-handed through the dimly lit streets of Freeridge. There weren’t many people out, and the only sounds to be heard were the blasting heaters and the low rumble of the engine. You took a deep breath in and leaned back into the seat before asking, “So where are we going?” 

“I told you it was a surprise.” Another silence ensued as you turned your head to look at the Santos leader, who was looking straight ahead at the road, his face void of any expression.

“...but can I get a hint of where we’re going?” 

“No.” 

“...if we’re having a movie night, you could have just texted.” 

“It’s not a movie night.” 

“You haven’t texted me in the past few days,” you whispered. “That’s not like you.” 

“I had to figure some shit out. I’m here now, aren’t I?” His response made you press your lips together and look out your window, crossing your arms once more. You could feel the heat of Oscar’s gaze intermittently focusing on you, burning the side of your head. The rush of heat going to your ears was accompanied by the audible thumping in your chest. You leaned your body against the passenger’s side door as much as you could and started contemplating words to say when Oscar’s hand gripped your left thigh. “Hey. Hey look at me.” You continued to stare out the window. “Hey, I’m sorry alright? Things got real tense with the Prophet$, and I had to sort shit out. I forgot to text you. I’m sorry.” You turned to meet his gaze, and it seemed all your anger had melted away with just a look into his dark eyes. 

“Thank you. I was worried about you, and no one knew where you went, so I thought...something had happened to you,” you begrudgingly admitted, hyper-aware of the fact that Oscar’s hand on your thigh set a warm fire throughout your body. You wanted to throw up. Or hold his hand. Maybe. This...this...pounding in your chest. The sudden rush of warmth in your ears. The hairs on your arm standing up. Cold and hot at the same time with heat slowly crawling from your neck to your cheeks. What is this?! 

“You don’t gotta worry about me,” Oscar’s voice broke through your storming internal monologue. Did his voice get deeper somehow? “I’ll always come back for you, babe,” he chuckled. 

“Ok that’s...not necessary,” you made a weak attempt to push Oscar’s hand away as your cheeks burned in embarrassment over his new nickname for you. Oscar only squeezed your thigh in return and kept his hand exactly where it was. You watched him skillfully steer one-handed into the parking lot of the nearest corner store and turn the engine off. The still silence prompted you to turn your head to the handsome man seated next to you, only to find him already turned to you. 

“What are you looking at?” You saw Oscar’s devastatingly dark eyes flit back and forth, holding your gaze as if reading your eyes could give a hint of the storm currently occurring in your mind. Oscar let out a chuckle before squeezing your thigh and giving it a light slap. 

“Let’s grab snacks too. I’m hungry.” He let go of your thigh and exited the Impala, leaving you in a daze. Your hand instinctively covered the area on your thigh that his hand previously occupied, lightly feeling the remnants of his warm touch. Shaking your head at your actions, you unbuckled your seatbelt and reached for the car door, only for the handle to be pulled away from your reach by Oscar, who had pulled the door open for you. You muttered a low thanks, eyebrows furrowed at the Santos leader. He locked the car before walking ahead of you and opening the front door of the corner store, holding it open for you to walk in, You glanced at him suspiciously before thanking him again and walking into the store, taking note of the slight brush of his hand against your hip. You made a beeline for the hot drink station at the back of the store, clasping your hands together and slightly shivering as you shuffled over. Oscar was not far behind you, acting as your taller shadow, his breath slightly fanning over your neck as he looked over your shoulder. You swallowed the knot forming in your throat and kept it suppressed by making small talk. When it came time to pay for your snacks, Oscar had pulled out a wad of bills faster than you could grab the card out of your wallet. He grabbed the snacks as you told him a halfhearted promise to pay him back. 

“Don’t worry about it. I gotchu,” he smiled, placing his hand on your waist and ushering you out the door. His cologne has taken over all your senses now, and the wires of your brain were beginning to short circuit. You found it hard to even think outside of this time with him. You found yourself taking notice of all the small ways he was currently driving you insane. 

Like the way he still kept a hold on your thigh as he drove. 

And how he told you about how he had watched the food show you had recommended on Netflix. 

And how he asked you to feed him a gummy worm and you felt the faint touch of his lips as you placed one in his mouth. 

He also told you to reply to a text from Sad Eyes on his behalf, telling him that he can’t hang out right now. 

And with every laugh and every smile, he would squeeze your thigh which would send a jolt of endorphins through your body.

Before long, the winding road Oscar was driving up on ended on a flat lookout. There were only two other cars there, considerably distanced from the two of you. Oscar had parked the car to where the trunk was facing the twinkling lights of Freeridge down below. Without saying a word, he got out of the car and popped the trunk open, where he pulled out a large blanket, big enough to fit the two of you. You got out of the car, clutching your drink, snacks in the other hand, and let a cheesing smile make its way onto your face. 

“What is this?” you asked Oscar who was now looking at you expectedly. 

“I thought we could just chill for tonight. See the stars and shit,” he gestured upwards to the dark sky. You giggled at the lack of stars in the sky. Typical for Los Angeles. You handed your drink to Oscar who took it without question. 

“May I?” you asked, looking between him and the trunk of his car. Oscar nodded, and you jumped up on the top of his trunk, and he followed suit, wrapping both you and him in the blanket. You rested your weight against him, placing your head on his shoulder. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you as you looked at the yellow lights of the city below. “Why did you actually bring me here?” 

“...I wanted to ask you something.” You slowly raised your head off his shoulder, and looked at him, his face laced with an emotion you couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

“What is it?” you whispered. 

Oscar cleared his throat before focusing his dark gaze on you. “We’ve been hanging out for a while, and I thought...that maybe...we could give this a real shot.” 

You grinned. “Oscar Diaz. Are you asking me to go steady with you?” 

Oscar kissed his teeth at your teasing grin. “Come on, I’m being serious!” 

“So am I! Are you asking me to be in a relationship or to be exclusive? They’re sort of different nowadays.”

“The first part.” 

“...I need to hear you say it.” 

Oscar gazed at you before cupping your face in his hand, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek. He whispered your name before asking, “will you be in a relationship with me?” You blinked at him a couple times before your hand came to meet his hand that was still caressing your face. You held his wrist and kissed the inside of his palm. 

“...what’s the magic word?” 

Oscar rolled his eyes at you before whispering, “please?”

You smiled before nodding, a little too enthusiastically. Oscar shook his head at you before returning your smile with a bright one of his own. “Ok now hold me,” you demanded, flinging his hand away from your cheek to go around your shoulder. You snuggled into the warmth of his body as he drew you closer and placed a kiss to your temple. “Took you long enough to ask me,” you whispered.  

“What?” 

“Nothing.”

______________________________________

A/N: I have finally broken my writer’s block. There’s quite a few life changes and obstacles I’m going through, and finally being able to finish a fic was so satisfying. Let me know what you think and if you want to be added to my taglist! 

General: @peppermintvanillaa @fantasticcopeaglepasta @panda-angela

Kilig taglist: @multifandomlife22 @thottiewinemom @princeabomination @svetlana-beilschmidt

[capt-spooki3]

By The Witch's Grace

Chapter Two

A Sbi "choose your own story" fanfiction

Click here for story description

Warning: cursing, mention of knives

4.5k words

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The morning came faster than Y/n anticipated. Waking up to the early morning sun in their eyes and the soft chirping or singing of birds was normal. But what they didn’t expect, after years upon years of being alone and fearing any other human contact, was to hear soft voices coming from the direction of their kitchen. They got up slowly from bed, the anxiety building up in their chest even more as Poppy wasn’t lying on the bed as she was very morning. A knife laid on a dresser on the far end of their room that they snatchd quickly before creeping out their already open door and moving as quiet as they could down the hall. They took a good look at the spare rooms with the doors wide open when they usually are always closed.

They stopped at the end of the hall that led to the kitchen and dining room area to listen to whatever voices were speaking. Their brows furrowed, foggy recognition swirling in their half asleep and anxiety wired brain.

“Phiiillll I’m cold! Can’t you just, you know, make Wil go mess with the fireplace?”

“Tommy- shush! You’re gonna wake Y/n up. And no, we can wait until they are up. I don’t want to get into their things.”

“Hi Poppy, oh you are so cute, is your owner up too? Oh you’re cute.”

“...meow.”

Finally, it clicked in their brain and connected it to the people they let stay last night. Relief flooded through them in a wave causing them to let out an audible sigh, the voices in the kitchen immediately going quiet. Barley audible muttering followed before soft footsteps approached the hall and they felt their body tense up at this.

Suddenly a tusked face filled their vision and had them pinned to the wall before they could even think, his expression had them too terrified to move anyway. The grimace on his face was intense, pink eyes filled with concentration and they could swear there was a growl from deep in his chest. From this close though, they were able to see a bit of scruff growing along his face, it really was pink too like the hair on his head. He was off of them in an instant though as he recognized them as anything other than a threat. His features softened fast into something almost friendly. Almost.

“Ah- sorry, didn’t know that was you why do you have a dagger?” His sentences merged as his eyes settled to the knife they held at their chest. The hardened look beginning to return to his features, shifting ever closer to intimidate them.

“I- h-hold on, no no, it’s not. I’M not-” They panicked and pressed themself farther against the wall, breath growing faster and eyes darting around to find and escape. They knew they were no match for a man as large as him and would have no chance trying to fight.

Maybe choosing to trust the bunch so fast really was a bad idea.

Out of the corner of their eye, they could see Phil slide into view. His hair tied back and a spatula in hand with the the top of his robes off his top and showing the casual short sleeved shirt underneath.

“Techno, let them go, it's fine! I’m sure we just startled them, we're new here.” He said in a scolding voice to his son who looked at him in concern. Phil sighed and walked up to Y/n, guiding them past Techno and into the kitchen with a kind look and smile.

“Besides, remember they said that they haven’t had people home in a long time. I don't blame you one bit Y/n, I’m sorry for him. A bit protective, that one.”

They gave a soft laugh to accompany Phil’s laughter and walked to the kitchen counter to put the knife down. Looking over, Tommy was turned around in his chair to watch Phil in the kitchen and Wilbur who was across from him, wearing round thin rimmed glasses, waved at Y/n with a smile to which he easily received a wave back.

“Good morning, hope you slept well.”

“Gooood morning!” Tommy said with a raised hand to be a gesture of hello.

They nodded and looked over the food Phil had put together to cook, the thought of it being poisoned hung in their mind for a bit before they turned back to the boys.

“I did sleep well, thank you. I hope the four of you did as well, the snow storm must have left you all cold last nig- OH! It’s cold in here! I'm so sorry, let me go throw some wood in the fireplace.” They rushed out and started to hurry toward the main living area before Wilbur shot up, making them stop to look at him.

“Hey no no, just tell me where the wood is. I can do it.” He offered, briskly walking over to them and putting his hand on their shoulder. The tension in their body must have caught his eye because he retracted his hand.

“Oh um, it’s downstairs. The room you all came in through last night. It’s stacked against the wall.”

“Great, I’ll be quick.” Wilbur smiled and raced off, he must have been cold with how eagerly he ran off to get the fireplace up and running.

“Thank you uh- Wilbur!” They called out after him, not even knowing if he heard them. Shaking away the worry, they turned back to Phil who was busy cooking.

“And Phil, you didn’t have to cook. I can take over for you-”

“Absolutely not!” He raised up the spatula to emphasize his point, wings puffing up a little where they were smaller feathers next to where it connected to his body. That’s when they noticed how the shirt he wore was made specifically to accommodate his wings. The back was almost entirely cut out of it but connected around to appear like a normal shirt from the front.

They sighed and walked over to the counter, holding onto it as they leaned forward a tad.

“Can I help then?” They pressed but Phil wasn't able to retort before Tommy was breaking his little bit of silence.

“Or you could come talk to me, I’m bored as fuck over here. Come! Come, sit. I have questions.” He said in an intrigued tone, making both Y/n and Phil laugh a bit. They gave in and left Phil to cooking reluctantly and sat across from Tommy. He spun around to face them and his hands in front of him  with elbows on the table. 

Direcrecting their attention past Tommy, they watched Techno walk to Phil and lean on the counter to talk with him. Tommy was quick to get their attention again though.

"So what do you think of women?”

“Excuse me?” Y/n said with a laugh, not expecting the question. He just leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he let out a big breath.

“Hah… you’re pretty cool. So far. But! You see, a lot of people find me rather annoying when they first meet me. You don’t think so, do you?” He pressed and looked them square in the eyes.

“I mean- no. No you seem alright, pretty nice I’d say.” They were genuine. They wanted to be friendly with these people if possible, maybe make a friend, but their guard was way up still. There was still the small possibility the bunch was out to hurt them.

“Really!? Hell yes- oh I knew you were one fantastic individual.” Tommy exclaimed, getting up out of his seat, movements being very lively and animated. Wilbur walked up behind him to push him back down into his seat by his shoulder.

“Don’t worry you’ll find him annoying soon enough.” Wilbur shoved his younger brother a bit and looked at Y/n. They laughed and met his gaze, finding it odd just how much of his undivided attention he was giving them. He cleared his throat and looked away quickly and turned to speak in Phil’s direction.

“Um, so I checked outside to see how the snow was fairing. It’s still a blizzard out there and the snow is thick.” Wilbur looked back to Y/n with a sympathetic look. “Y/n I think we may have to overstay our welcome until the snow dies down and melts off a bit.”

“It’s no issue, you all are welcome to stay until you’re fit to leave, besides,” They stood up, looking at the family, “Maybe this will give me some good karma or something for the future.” Tommy scoffed and made a quiet retort they couldn't make out but didn’t waste time asking him about it. Y/n passed by Wilbur, giving him a friendly tap on the shoulder in return for his action earlier, and grabbed a loaf of bread from the counter.

“Phil, thank you for cooking, but that is all for you four okay? I have to go feed my livestock.”

“Y/n it’s freezing-” Phil tried to stop them but Y/n stubbornly butted in.

“I know, I’ll be fine though. Wouldn’t be the first time.” They took a chunk out of the bread and bit into it before setting off to get feed for the animals.

It took no time for them to get a large bucket filled with feed, they recently stocked up so there wasn’t any worry of running out. Quickly, they ran down to the basement where Poppy had run off to much earlier to give her food. Once they came back upstairs, they grabbed and carried the rather heavy bucket to the door so they could put on their cloak, hoping it would be enough to keep them warm.

With a deep breath to prepare themself, they lifted the bucket and went to open the door.

“Wait. Don’t go running off just yet.” Looking back, Technoblade was walking down the stairs and pulling on a thick shirt that seemed like it was one worn under his armor. He shook out his hair from the shirt and grabbed the bucket from Y/n who in turn looked at him. Surprised and rather confused.

“You didn’t really think Phil was going to let you walk out of here that easy did you?” Techno said with a soft laugh to himself, looking down at the feed thoughtfully as he answered himself, “No, he’s a stubborn man.”

Y/n couldn’t fight a smile, seeing the formerly guarded individual become soft at the thought of his father.

“Mhm clearly.” They added before opening the door up to thickly falling snow. The occasional strong gusts of  wind weren’t helping their situation either. “Sure you wanna join though? It’s not gonna be easy.”

Techno pushed past them into the freezing land that was their property, not seeming to care about even helping them and wanted to get this done.

Y/n closed the door, flipping up their hood and trudging out after the large man. The snow was easily covering their ankles already and still growing with no sign of stopping. They bumped into Techno's back when he stopped suddenly and looked up at him, backing up a little as they hadn't been looking out where they were walking.

"I don't know where I'm going." Techno said loudly over the wind in a tone that indicated they should have been in the lead in the first place.

"Oh- right um," They looked around to see where they were before walking closer to the tree line so they could walk along it. "It'll be this way!"

No words were passed between them from that point. Y/n tried to ask him questions on who he and his family were or where they came from when he was close to them, but the man only would grimace before walking on to empty the bucket for the few sheep they owned. The chores were done much faster than usual, not having time to sit and enjoy time with their animals in such weather.

Thankfully, Techno was quick to leave Y/n's presence once they passed through the doorway. No awkward standing around. Though they didn't blame him, he wanted to be back with his family other than a stranger. The feeling was mutual to an extent.

After ridding themself of the wet or dirty clothes and replacing them, they snuck down the hall to see what the group was doing. Phil, Wilbur, and Tommy were sitting at the table. Phil and Wilbur had empty plates in front of them while Tommy was still working on his food. The three of them were chatting quietly and occasionally one of them would wrangle Techno into the conversation who stood against the wall near the table, eating his own breakfast. They all looked so at peace here, like it was the first time they could just sit and chat and enjoy each other's company. 

Not wanting to intrude, even though it was their own home, Y/n left back down the hallway that connected the three rooms. Formerly the rooms were used for storage, but it wasn't too much of a mess to clean once it was needed. They didn't have the time to get out two old futons they had last night so, silently they worked on moving the makeshift beds in hopes to make the family's stay a bit more comfortable. With that idea in mind, Y/n spent the rest of the day until the evening with their mind on autopilot as they cleaned and tidied up the two rooms. The only thing making them stop was the deep rumbling of their stomach.

Smoothing out a blanket on the futon, they reluctantly left the room and trudged down the hall. The feeling of hunger and overworking themself was finally kicking in now. Entering the kitchen, they were surprised to only see Phil, sitting at the dining room table and peacefully reading an old book that they had long forgotten on the nearby shelf.

"Hey Phil, where are..the boys?" Y/n hesitated, hoping he wouldn't mind them referring to his sons as such. His smile as he looked at the book spoke all the words of reassurance Y/n needed.

"They are outside playing in the snow since it's not a blizzard anymore. Been a while since they have gotten the chance. What about you mate?" He looked up from the pages to look them over, "You seem tired."

"Ah, a tad. But I was going to make supper. How are you all with goulash?"

"Excuse me?"

"It's a type of soup, one my Oma taught to me. I'll make it for you all tonight, it makes a lot so it's perfect." Y/n said, their tone light. There was a bit of excitement in being able to cook for them. Something new. 

Phil closed his book and made his way into the kitchen, watching as Y/n scrambled around to make sure they had all the ingredients and mumbling to themself.

"I can help if you'd like." He offered and they stopped, contemplating it for just a moment before giving a quick reply.

"No, I've got this. You could keep me company though if you'd like. You seemed a little lonely."

He leaned back against the counter as he watched them work with ease. They must have made this recipe enough to have it memorized.

"Well I was thinking actually."

When he stopped, they looked at him to see him looking intently at them. 

"How can we repay you?"

"What?"

"I owe you my life, we would have frozen to death. You know that, Y/n. Please, how can we repay you for your kindness." Phil insisted with an intense look in his eyes. It was clear to see he put a lot of thought into the justification of repaying them.

"Well...I think you all will be spending a bit here so how about I get back to you on that, okay?"

He looked unsatisfied with such an answer, almost pouty with feathers fluffing a bit as he huffed.

"I just have to think about it, I promise!" They laughed as they tried to console him. "You clearly don't have anywhere else to go anyway. Not like I'll just kick you out once the snow clears." 

Phil didn’t seem like he was expecting to hear such a kind reason as instead of making some retort, he went quiet. A conflicted look on his face, he crossed his arms close to his chest. Staying quiet, but not leaving the kitchen while Y/n cooked. They didn’t try and press him to talk either with the new information of him desperately wanting to repay their kindness. It was a heavy thing to ponder. Do they abuse this? Or would it be smart to give some sort of half hearted and kind offer? Maybe they could ask for them to stay.

An unclear amount of time passed while they cooked, mostly in their mind and so was Phil it seemed, but the loud opening and closing of the door followed by Tommy's voice, as he almost raced to the kitchen, told them the boys were done outside.

“Holy fuck, I’m starving and that smells so good!” He ran over to see what Y/n was cooking, the childlike excitement and happiness was simply sparkling in his eyes. When not receiving a reply, Tommy looked up at Y/n quizzically which snapped them out of their trace.

“It’s goulash.” They told him and offered him the wooden spoon they were using to see if he wanted to taste. He looked at the spoon then them and seemed unsure on if he really was allowed. “It’s good.” is all they said before moving the spoon toward him again.

He took the spoon and tried the amount that was on it for him. His response came rather quick after taking a second to process the new taste.

“That’s really good, is it done?” He asked eagerly and looked at them. Y/n couldn't help but giggle a bit, almost giving in and ruffling his hair, but instead walked around him to grab five bowls and spoons so they could eat.

“Yeah, it is. Where is Wilbur and Technoblade? Did you leave them out there?”

Tommy just rolled his eyes with a little scoff, reaching over to gently take a bowl from Y/n’s hands.

“They got all pissed off at each other and are trying to kill each other in a snowball fight. I TRIED to get them to come inside, but noooo. Finding out who would win was more important.” he mumbled more, something about Wilbur and they heard their own name mentioned. Even though they couldn’t hear what was said, Phil sure did as he piped up quickly and reached over to lightly smack Tommy on the arm.

“Tommy!” He hissed with a displeased expression.

“Ow! What the hell!" Tommy glared back at Phil but after a second of silent communication between the two, he just sighed in defeat, “That was too much I’m sorry. Don't want Wil to beat my ass.” He snickered and Phil couldn’t help but join in a little. He kept a hand on Tommy’s shoulder when he reached over to take a bowl for himself.

“Thank you Y/n, I don’t mean to put the pressure on you to do this, but maybe you could yell at those two that it’s time to eat? I feel like they might listen to you.”

“Oh, of course. I hope you both enjoy it, I’ll be right back.” They set down the bowls, giving the spoons an extra tap on the counter with a glance back at them to tell them that is where the spoons were once they got their food. With that, they made their way to the front door, not really knowing what to expect. Y/n took in a deep breath and swung the door open just to be greeted by a hard snowball in the chest. They staggered back a step out of surprise, their hand on their chest then looked up to see Wilbur with his hands over his mouth and Techno dropping his arm full of snowballs as he doubled over laughing.

“OH MY GOD! Oh god- I am SO sorry!!” Y/n could see his face flushed red with embarrassment from here. They laughed a little at the situation and decided to take a bit of pity on the snow covered boys and not give into the urge to hurl a snowball at him

“Yep that’s- that’s alright. I just wanted to tell you that supper is ready, get your asses inside.” Their tone was light hearted as they brushed off the left over on their shirt.

“Right- right I’m sorry again, we will be right in!”

With that, Y/n closed the door and immediately heard bantering back and forth from the two though it was too muffled tpo make out the words. They made their way back into the kitchen to finally relieve their hunger to immediately be questioned.

“The fuck happened?” Tommy turned himself halfway around the chair, the same one he sat in this morning, to fully soak a possible scene.

“Well I opened up the door and got caught in the crossfire of their little battle out there.” They spoke while fixing their bowl, hearing Tommy wheeze out with laughter, “Needless to say, they are coming in soon.” 

As if summoning them, the front door opened up. Y/n hopped up on the counter to eat their food and see the boys walk in. Techno was first, raking a hand through his messy and wet hair with Wilbur right behind him. With the snow rapidly melting on them it was soaking their clothes even more.

Snickering a bit, Y/n turned their attention to their bowl, “I put all the spare clothes I had in both of the rooms. Please go change.” They sounded more like a mother than anything and Tommy sure found that hilarious as he busted out laughing again, leaving them to go change.

Nearly no time passed and they were back to get their food, Y/n being right there to direct them where the utensils and bowl were. The two went and sat at the table and the family began slowly chatting about little unimportant things. To Y/n, the peaceful chatter was pure music to their ears. As much as they hate to admit it, they deeply missed the little joys of a domestic life with others. Just the little daily things and being in the company of other people.

Happily, they ate in silence while the family was enveloped in their happy little bubble of conversation. Even once finished, they stayed on the counter and listened to the conversation until Poppy trotted into the kitchen with a big meow to tell Y/n she was hungry for her dinner. The meow was loud enough to make Wilbur stop talking to "aww" at the cat. Y/n hopped off the counter and washed their bowl before turning back to the cat.

“Alright baby, are you hungry?” Poppy meowed again and impatiently walked around so Y/n would follow her into the basement to eat. “Okay, you all can wash the bowls when you’re done. I’ll be in the basement if you need me. There is a set of stairs in the ground floor that leads to it.” With that, they waved the family off and followed their excited and meowing feline down to eat.

About 30 minutes had passed and they were sitting in the basement where  they had their magic things stored and three book cases which were filled. They sat in one of the two plush chairs that sat between the three walls of books, humming a soft song while flipping absentmindedly through a book and trying to find a certain page. Poppy was full and laying on their lap fast asleep

“Um, hey. Y/n?” Came the soft calling of Wilbur as he took a few steps down the stairs and meeting eyes with them. He looked around the room as he was curious to what it looked like but returned his attention to them. 

“Hi, do you need something?”

“Well, no, but the others are going to bed and I wanted to know if..” He trailed off, walking down the stairs to nearly the bottom while staring at all their books. "If I could come read with you, actually.”

Y/n was taken aback a little, but frankly the idea sounded nice. 

“Of course, I’m sure You will be able to find something here you like.” They  watched him walk to the farthest shelf from them and skim over it, trying to find a book.

“You know, I was never given the chance to sit down and read like this. But I’ve always wanted to learn,” He plucked a book off the shelf and turned it around to show them the cover, “About music.”

“Really?”

“Really. It has always been a topic that has enticed me. I used to write little songs in the small bits of free time I was so graciously granted.” He exaggerated as he plopped down in the chair beside them, not so slyly looking them over and smiling before getting comfy and opening the cover.

“I guess you’re in luck then, I have five or six other books on music and I think two that are filled with sheet music.” They said in an offer to him before flipping back through the book to find their desired page.

A few minutes of comfortable silence went on between them, Y/n occasionally seeing him look at them out of the corner of their eye. He took in a deep breath and adjusted his glasses then rested his head on his hand which was propped up on the arm of the chair.

“Do you play?”

“Excuse me?”

“Like, an instrument.”

“Oh, well, I used to. I played guitar though it’s been at least a year or two since I’ve even tried to play anything.” They laughed a little, glancing at Wilbur who was scanning his book.

“Have you been interested in learning anything else?”

“Oh absolutely, though I don't think I have the expenses to buy a new instrument from anywhere. At least not here.”

Wilbur hummed softly in reply, obviously thinking over their reply though the conversation died out after that as he seemed to become engrossed in the pages whilis Y/n found the page they had been searching for.

It would cross their mind a bit how nice this was. despite no talking, they were able to spend time with someone in their most comfortable environment.

Who would have known a snow storm would gift them people who weren’t here to hurt them.

People that wanted to get to know them even.

They could get used to this.

[Chapter Three]

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-tag list-

@can-i-fangirl-yet @spit-rot @sproudi @omgthatonenerd06 @acemt @wahman @m-etr3m8 @pog-sad-muffin @quiche-inoya @lea-the-foxe @sbi-is-my-onlysanity @smol-spoopy @chey-the-simp @p1gst3p @silvemistxe33 @cl0udy-grey @sweetchillipeppers @sharpcheese

(srry for the late mention I'm LITERALLY a boomer when it comes to tumblr-)

[spiked-tea-writing]

and they were roommates?!

SapnapxFem!Reader

Summary: Imagine being in love with your roommate, couldn't be you.

Pronouns: She/her

Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 2.3k

A/n: I don’t watch or know anything, I just like these people and I had a concept. Also, he and Dream aren’t roommates in this for the sake of I can’t figure that out. Also also, my timeline is probably fucked but who cares

The dynamic in the apartment was...interesting to say the least

In the two years of living together, it had shifted a lot

In the beginning, you and Sapnap had been... less than cordial to each other

Both eighteen, fresh out of high school, off to college thinking that you knew everything.

There was lots of fighting, to say the least.

All of the “No it’s your turn to vacuum”, and “I swear to god Sapnap I will punt you halfway across the world if you eat my pineapple again”

The only reason you didn’t slit each other’s throats was that if the other person was dead, who would pay rent?

It was the summer before college started at the time, and you were working long hours minimum wage so coming]’/ home to an annoying prick caused a crap ton of conflict

After a few months of being little bitches to each other, y’all got piss drunk in the apartment and it all just sorta fell apart

Got that good drunk therapy, spilling your deepest secrets

(y’all were underage but shhh)

So by the time college started, the two of you had become actual friends and started enjoying each others company

A few months into the friendship, you encouraged him to post the video of “Minecraft, but it’s Raining Cats and Dogs” on a whim

Lmao little did you know what you had created (we’ll get to that later)

You mocked his train of thought constantly, laughing at the timing of it all.

“Ahhh yes, I am Sapnap, the genius who thought it’d be great to become a YouTuber while in my first year of college.”

He’d always just laugh and roll his eyes, playfully shoving you while stealing your chips.

The next few months were a haze of studying, work, and him.

It was truly a friendship of convenience since you guys were so busy, him starting his youtube career, and you working restaurants, then school on top of that, it was just easy to find friendship in your roommate.

Of course, he had his close friends which he spoke to over the internet, and you had your friends from back home, but as for college, it really was only him.

You guys had a fun time just hanging around the apartment, and it became so easy to be friends with him

And it WAS truly platonic (we’ll get back to that as well)

The best thing he brought to the friendship was his animals

You got on fabulously with Cash and the cats

They were all so cuddly and honestly loved you more than him lmao

You guys were just trying to get degrees and not be too stupid, was that too much to ask???

Well to a certain 2020, it was

The beginning of that year was great.

He was sorta realizing that he liked putting himself on social media, but on top of that, it seemed like a great start to a year.

February brought him to twitch, which you loved

You found it hilarious how he would just sorta play games and have people watch him live.

But you were incredibly supportive, as a friend, of course

He really liked it so, you tried to ignore the shouting at three am, and the loud anthems at night

Sure you’d give him hell in the morning, but why kill his fun?

March started great, as it was his birthday.

You got him a glittery lighter as a gag, but it was the perfect gift for a broke-ass college student

Then a certain pandemic came a-knockin’ on y’all’s door

It was a hard hit on both of you.

An executive decision was made that you two would stay put, but being away from your families was incredibly tough.

That spring was the birth of The SMP.

It brought him so much joy, which in turn made you happier.

The rest of the school year was a blur of zooms and test

Nick nearly killed you on multiple occasions when you made fun of the fact that he was learning computer science over the computer or made him help you figure out what the fuck zoom was since it was tangentially related to his major

“SAP HELP ME YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS ITS YOUR FUCKING MAJOR!!!”

“NO, IT’S- AHHHHHHHHH”

Yall got more than a handful of noise complaints shhhh

That summer was fill was spent trying to fill the time in weird ways

Note to self, he can’t cook (which you learned the hard way)

Yall spent so much time trying to cook and bake, then sweating off the calories working out with The Fitness Marshall lmao

As sucky as the situation was, that summer was so incredibly fun for the both of you, and truthfully the only arguments were about what music to blast

“Y/n I swear if I listen to Cosmicandy one more time I will drown you.”

“Well if I hear American Idiot one more time someone’s knee caps are getting harvested.”

(that argument was settled with Elton John.)

When school started up again that fall, something shifted

After a year of actual friendship, you guys were no longer just friends, and the tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife

You had watched every single one of his streams since day one, but within 2 seconds of his Love or Host, you felt the need to hurl for some peculiar reason

It was bizarre because there was no way you could ever like him, of course not.

Within the apartment, you guys suddenly got a lot more touchy, but only because it was getting cold with winter and all that jazz.

It wasn’t because yall were secretly in love, what is this, a romcom?

The number of times you guys woke up on the couch, definitely not cuddling was too many to count

You started sitting in his room while he streamed, definitely not watching him with heart eyes because of how excited he got

He always had a pot of coffee full and a 6-pack of monster in the fridge since he knew you ran on spite and caffeine, and definitely not so that he could spend more time with you in the early hours of the morning.

The laundry started getting all mixed around, resulting in just sharing any sweats, hoodies, or socks.

The same thing went for food.

No longer was anything labeled with a name, if it was in the fridge, it was fair game (unless there was a post-it because come on, yall weren’t monsters)

But no, y’all were just roommates, not dating, lets make that clear.

Feelings? We don’t know her.

This entire time, his friends have had to hear about you rip.

But they got front row seats to your relationship development

“OMG my roommate is the worst she ate all of the frozen strawberries”

“Y/n kidnapped Storm all day while she studied and I thought I lost the fucking cat asjvdk”

“I had to run down and talk to the landlord because we dropped a pot of pasta sauce all over the carpet and couldn’t get the damn stain out.”

“She is so nice in preparation for a family dinner zoom, she ran out to the local Filipino food place and pick stuff up.”

“Sorry I’m late I overslept and didn’t want to wake up Y/n.”

They weren’t stupid, and could clearly see how whipped he was.

Dream and Geroge teased him about it constantly.

“Woah, calm down Sap, you should probably tell her you love her before you propose.”

“Yeah Dream’s right, it’s kinda weird that you’re living together before ever dating.”

He always flushed and denied it with a shake of his head.

He wasn’t into you, are they crazy?

Quackity and Karl messed with him in more unorthodox ways

There are a solid number of clips where they are fake crying over how he’s cheating on them, and even more tweets to match

It only got worse when you met them accidentally.

He was chatting post-stream on a video channel with George, Dream, Karl, and Quackity, and just his luck, you came into his room.

Like of all the times you could walk in, it was the time he was with his five closest friends but I digress

“Yo I got some extra tips yesterday so I picked up some extra Red Bull if you want to do one of your weird all-nighter streams.”

“Y/n I’m on channel.”

“Oh shit sorry my b. Catch.”

All the guys heard was a thud and a groan from Sapnap as the six-pack hit him in the chest.

Dream was the one to recognize your name.

“WAIT IS THAT Y/N I WANT TO MEET THEM!”

You could hear Dream’s voice through his headphones

“Sap… who is that?”

“No one. I’ll be out in a sec to help with dinner.”

You could hear a British voice come through.

“Oh so we are no one now, huh.”

Another voice piped through.

“Common... ¿Qué intentas ocultar?”

You cut in.

“Your headset it shit my guy. I can hear everything. I’m down to talk to them.”

He let out a groan.

“Fine. But you’re gonna have to do the dishes tonight.”

“Deal. Now move.”

“What? No.”

“Fine bitch.”

You collapsed onto his lap, plucking the headphones off of him.

“Hello, Sapnap’s friends. I am Y/n. A pleasure to meet y’all. Can you hear me?”

You heard a series of laughs through the headset, and a voice came through.

“Yes, we can see you too. I’m Karl, it’s so nice to finally meet his girlfriend.”

A blush rose on both of your faces, and another voice came through.

“Yeah, we’ve heard lots about you. Plus we can’t see your face in that picture Sap sent us. I’m Quackity”

That remark stopped your embarrassment in its tracks.

“What the fuck? How do you guys know me? I’m not even his girlfriend? And what picture?”

Sapnap grabbed your arm to calm you down as another voice cut in, but his one you recognized as his friend Dream.

“Hey, it’s okay. He just talks about you a bit, and the picture I believe was of you holding like three cats with like a red bull can on your head.”

“Jesus fucking christ why do they have that photo??”

He looked guilty but chuckled.

“Because that photo is a damn masterpiece.”

Karl’s voice came back in with a giggled.

“Soooo, Y/n we’d love to hear about you. Specifically anything funny or embarrassing that you have learned by living with him.”

Sapnap let out a groan from behind you as you went off.

“WELL lemme tell y’all, he has no cooking knowledge, well I mean, now he does, but one time, about a year ago, I had I been keeping a pot of water boiling for about an hour, soft boiling eggs, cooing noodles, blanching bok choy, etc. but this fucking genius is like ‘oH tHe HaNdLe Is StIcKiNg OuT. LeMmE mOvE iT wItH mY bArE hAnD.’ Needless to say, he burnt the crap outta his hand and kept the bag of frozen blueberries on it for the entire night. It took me like a solid five seconds to actually help him because I was laughing.”

By the time you had finished that story, you had seen Nick roll his eyes like 5 five times while the rest of the guys were wheezing.

“Yeah, well remember the time you were trying to imitate Rapunzel after we had watched it over Zoom with my sister, and you swung the edge of the frying pan into our head and got a nasty bump on it? At least I moved quick enough to put some ice on it.”

“Ice? It was the damn leftover Slushy that I had been freezing.”

“True, but you got to drink it after, so it was a win-win situation.”

“Sap, I had a bump the size of a golfball coming off of my temple. There was no winning.”

“Fine, you’re just making me sound like such a shit roommate.”

“No that’s not true, you do all of the talking to the landlord, and you at least tried to muffle the noise when you stream.”

“I guess that’s true, but you do like 80% of the cleaning.”

“Yeah but only because you’re working. Plus in the past 6 months, you’ve made coffee every morning, AND made sure I was taking my meds.”

“Those things aren’t that hard and I do it to make sure you don’t die because I lo- care about you.”

“What?”

“What?”

You heard Dream’s wheeze laugh and remembered that you guys were still on call.

“Smooth.”

You both went red, and Sap moved his arm around you to leave the channel.

The next few moments were complete torture, the two of you just sitting in silence.

You were wondering if he meant what he was about to say and he was scared that you had heard it.

He was the one to break the silence. (mind you you’re still sitting on his lap lmao)

“I’m sorry about that.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. Should you ask him if he meant it? Because that wouldn’t be that bad. Or just pretend it never happened. Nah that’d be hella awkward. Or-

“I love you too.”

“You what?”

Wow, okay your brain is being a little bitch rn, but fuck it. Balls to the walls baby.

“I love you, and I have for a while now. I just want you to know.”

You finally looked him in the eye, and he was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Thank god. I love you, and nearly fucking told you for the first time in front of my friends accidentally. Damn, I’m smooth.”

You laughed and he smiled wider.

“Can I kiss you?”

After a quick nod he swooped in and holy hell his lips felt great. His arm wound around your waist and your hands made their way to his jaw as he pulled you closer to him.

The only thing playing in your mind was “and they were roommates”

[killian-spey]

Death Would Be Kinder [Ch. 2]

Prev. Ch.

[Drusilla/Spike/Calendar!Reader]

Words: 2276

Fic Concept: Jenny Calendar’s sister spends some “quality time” with the Season 2 Vampire Squad. This chapter takes place during [BtVS S2:E15]

TW/CW: violence, kidnapping, chains?

AN: Idea came from @prose-for-hire ‘s submission to the fic title game. Taglist is at the bottom, let me know if you want to be added!

You’d been sitting silently, watching Spike wheel himself back and forth across the factory. If you didn’t know better he looked like he was pacing. In reality, he was probably checking behind the pillars and corners of the factory for any sign of your friends. It seems the vampires were expecting Buffy to come looking for you. As the time dragged on, your suspicions became reality; Buffy had prioritized the threat of the Judge over saving you. You had to admit, it stung a little, but it was only logical.

Spike peeked his head into each doorway adjoining the main factory floor. You could tell he was getting restless. You contemplated your odds carefully before you decided on taking a calculated risk.

“You lose a sock?” you yelled.

“Did I what?” Spike wheeled back into the room, an odd expression on his face.

“I asked if you lost a sock.” You paused, his intense glare caught you off-guard. “You know… Because of all the pacing. And popping your head in and out of every room in the place. Somebody’s going to think you lost a sock.”

“Well, I didn’t.” He chuckled a bit before going quiet again and stalking around the factory in his wheelchair. You nodded to yourself, deciding to quit while you were ahead. After that, the only sounds left in the factory were the spinning of wheels and an occasional bumping of door frames and frustrated curses.

It had only been a couple hours of his pseudo-pacing before Angelus and Drusilla stumbled their way into the factory. Spike took one look at the state Angelus was in and hid a smirk under his hand by scratching his nose.

“Well, you’re home early. Slayer hasn’t even tried swiping the girl yet.”

Spike’s good mood vanished as he watched them come down the steps. Drusilla was beside herself, and for a moment you found yourself feeling bad for her. Then Angelus opened his big fat mouth and you remembered who these people were.

“Yeah, well things didn’t go exactly according to plan, Spikey.” He prowled the room, circling like a big cat before he gravitated towards you. Your nerves peaked and you swear you saw a glint of pride behind Angelus’ eyes as he heard your heart pick up. He stepped within arms’ reach of you and sneered.

“What I can’t figure out is, why would she abandon you like this?”

“Where’s your big blue friend?” You swallowed your anxiety and stared up at him in challenge, you weren’t going to tell him a goddamn thing. Might as well give yourself a fighting chance. If he figured it out, you were dead already. You were going to be careful, of course, but that didn’t mean you were going to let him win.

Angelus roared, grabbing your face by the jaw. He was suddenly wearing his game face front and center. ‘Buffy really rattled him, huh?’ You remained stoic, as statuesque as you could muster. If you had misjudged his mood, this might be one of your last moments alive.

Drusilla had floated her way over, leaning into Angelus and hugging his arm to her side. Your staring contest interrupted, Angelus pulled away from you. You took the free moment away from the spotlight to run your fingers against the grain of the armrests, trying to ground yourself in the feeling of the wood underneath you. Your panic was bubbling to the surface, tension and pressure building in your ribcage. You caught Spike’s knowing glance towards you as your eyes flickered between the vampires. You dropped your eyes to the floor, frozen as Drusilla subtly coaxed Angelus away from you. Before long, Angelus had stormed out of the factory again, mumbling about sending Buffy a message.

You were grateful and more than a little stunned. Drusilla saved your life. In her own, subtle way she’d dismantled Angelus’ rage and directed it somewhere else. She’d spun him out of the factory towards Buffy with little more than a subtle flirtatious gesture. You practically gawked at her as she made her way into Spike’s lap. She had these men wrapped around her finger and they didn’t even know it.

Well, maybe Spike knew, but he certainly didn’t mind. He was running his fingers through Drusilla’s hair, comforting her as he spoke.

“If you like the hostage so much, maybe you should have a little fun, Ducks.” He wrapped an arm around Drusilla’s waist to steady her as he wheeled towards you, continuing. “She was supposed to be the distraction for the Slayer, after all. That is what went wrong with the plan, wasn’t it?”

Drusilla lifted her head, gears turning as she looked between Spike and you. Your mind rushed with your fears of what she was contemplating. You didn’t put it past them for ‘playing’ to mean something rather unpleasant for you. Drusilla hummed under her breath excitedly, springing from Spike’s lap and practically skipping out of the room. Spike nodded at you, raising his eyebrows as if to say “Hey look, I fixed it!” and wheeled himself into a good position to watch from, a smug grin on his face.

Drusilla returned with two fistfuls of chains and your heart dropped. She fussed with them somewhere behind you and left the rest in a pile as she ducked off again to the other room. Spike flicked his eyes between the chains and his girl curiously, but said nothing as she flurried about the factory. When she returned, she was holding a long carrying case and a small over-the-shoulder bookbag. She dropped them beside the chains and left again without a word.

“Ducks, what is all this stuff?”

Spike called out to her and wheeled over to the bags. He unzipped one when she didn’t answer. You couldn’t see into the bag from your position and Spike’s exasperated reaction didn’t help you either.

Drusilla returned one final time, holding a large blank canvas in each hand. The left was maybe a 20”x24” and the right was maybe a 24” square. (50cmx60cm or 60cm square).

“Which one does the artist like best?”

You paused, unsure if there was a right answer. After a couple moments you pointed weakly to the left canvas. Drusilla smiled at you and put the square canvas down. Spike scoffed as Drusilla set up an easel from the carrying case and put the bookbag on a table beside it.

She dragged the chains over to your chair and kneeled, carefully untying the knots around your right leg. You studied her face; she bit her tongue lightly as she worked, pulling at the ropes with deft, perfectly manicured fingers. After she’d untied your legs and shackled them, she let your arms off the armrests.

She took your hands in hers and pulled you up to stand for the first time in almost a day. You scanned her expression and glanced backwards towards the easel, then back to her with trepidation. She glided you in front of the daunting white canvas and left you, sinking backwards and sitting in Spike’s lap.

You stood, dumbfounded at the prospect of Drusilla wanting you to paint, of all things. She seemed unimpressed by your inaction after a few moments, and had begun whispering into Spike's ear. He'd leaned into her, pulling her closer and snickered at what must have been a rather amusing comment. He flicked his eyes at you through his lashes, a predatory glint flashing behind his eyes as his smirk grew. He straightened in his seat with satisfaction, head held high.

“Paint for the lady or get eaten. Your choice.”

Drusilla’s eyes wandered back to you and provided no comfort, but then again, why should it? You turned back to the canvas, feeling both their eyes staring at you. A calming breath later, you assessed the materials on the table.

The canvas bag she'd brought had a full set of oil paints- far nicer than you'd ever been able to afford. You didn't dare think of the poor shopkeeper she'd probably killed for them. A person just like your Uncle. He was just another obstacle in these people’s way, and for that he was murdered. You shoved the paints to one side of the small table and began assessing the tools. A somewhat rudimentary selection of spatulas and brushes. You could make do just fine with these.

You set up a palette with some blue, red, white, and black to start. A color palette often was the first thought you gave to a painting. This painting would be mostly blues, purples, and grays. Without turning your head, your eyes flicked towards the vampires just off your left shoulder in the periphery. You had never really let anyone sit and watch you paint. It was hard enough showing a finished piece to someone other than family.

You mixed a deep lilac and raised a palette knife to the canvas. You paused, unsure where to place the landscape. The creeping feeling of being watched was throwing you. The white snow canvas was taunting you, paralyzing you. But you weren't about to let it win. Any of them. You closed your eyes and just swiped the palette knife confidently in a bold first stroke. Now you had a puzzle. How does this fit into a landscape? There was no going back now, it had to work.

It was a mountain slope. The hue you used was suitable for a distant fixture seen from a twilit glade. You could lean into that, thinking on how to keep the morbid whimsy of the piece consistent as a theme. You blocked out the clearing and plotted out the forest behind and around it. It fell silent in the factory as you worked, only the scraping of palette knives and brush strokes echoing in the room. Pieces fell in place as you added gnarled willows at the tree line, white ghost pipes and fungi crawling on the foliage, and sickly green fireflies in the weeping branches and crooked thorn bushes. You didn't like how the overall feel of the piece was so damp and dreary. It felt too muted, too blue for what you'd envisioned. You added nettles to the glade in a redder purple, almost magenta, to tie the piece back into the mystical tone you wanted. A few more touches, a ray of silver moonlight here or there, and you stepped back. You contemplated the piece, for some reason feeling unfinished. The glade felt completely untouched, too alone by itself.

You almost jumped when you heard Drusilla shift off Spike’s lap behind you. You froze, dropping your gaze to the floor, unsure of her intentions. With three clicks of her heels against the concrete flooring, she stopped just behind you. So close you would have felt her breath on your neck if she were human. She leaned forward and pulled your hair behind your ear. She placed one hand on your shoulder and raised your head with a finger under your chin, guiding your eyes back to your work.

“Don’t you like it?”

“It’s not bad, actually.” Spike wheeled forward a pace or so to take a closer look at it. Drusilla still seemed to be waiting for your own answer. You studied it again silently.

It did feel telling, in an odd sort of way. It was invisibly and indescribably alive, despite the darkness and isolation. Could be a good metaphor for vampires... Alive and free only after their own deaths. Sure, they may not exactly live up to society’s expectation of a good neighbor, but you couldn’t say they let being dead keep them from living.

Still, the painting felt unsatisfactory, felt incomplete. You shook your head and pondered. You drew up a couple new colors, a ghostly blue and a red-brown clay. You loaded a palette knife with the clay tone and hovered over the painting, indecisive. The central piece as of now was a large, twisting willow on a small inclined mound of earth. The whole painting felt like background to an invisible subject. Nothing tied the eye to the painting, there was nothing to follow. No movement in a living place.

Drusilla took the palette knife from your hand and set it down. She pulled you lightly to step away from the painting, lightly petting your hair.

“Let it rest, you’ll do more later. With a clear mind,”

You let a heavy sigh escape your lungs. She was right. If you kept going now, at the end of your rope, you’d risk doing something that detracted from the painting entirely. You jerked your head up at a loud scraping sound from above you. Angelus had swung the door open on the mezzanine of the factory. He had a vicious grin and a playful look in his eyes, leaning on the guardrail and looking down at the three of you.

“Did you have fun with the Slayer, then?” Spike called up to him.

“Oh, she makes it so easy!” Angelus threw himself at the spiral staircase and rushed down them with glee.

“I barely had to lift a finger to throw a wrench in her little puppy problem.”

Drusilla twitched her head and glided towards him. She was staring at his face, fixated on something you didn’t pick up on. She swiped her thumb across the corner of his mouth and brought it to her own lips.

“Did you bring any home, Angel? I taste a young one on you.”

“Not today, darlin’. Besides, you have that one.” Angelus gestured to you and sauntered off, calling back as he left. “She wasn’t really any use anyway.”

[Next Chapter Soon!]

Tags: @prose-for-hire @soggy-enchilada @misselsbells06

[marvelousmarvelimagines]

Burn

Pairing - Sam Wilson x Reader

Summary - You knew that things were going to change the moment that Captain America walked into you and your boyfriend’s lives. You just hadn’t expected them to change so quickly. 

Word Count - 2.5k

Warnings - None except angst! But I promise it’s a happy ending! :)

Could you say that you didn’t see it coming? That you were blindsided? That you had never expected things to end this way? No. From the moment that Captain America had come knocking on the doorway of your apartment, you knew that things were about to change. 

You could admit that you hadn’t expected it to end so quickly after that. 

“I’ve got to go help him. I feel like . . . I’ve found what I’m supposed to do.” He told you, sitting across from you at your small dining room table. 

 “I thought working at the VA was your calling?” You asked. It was where the two of you had met. You had been working at the front desk there for years now. 

“This is different.” He replied, and you watched as his fingers tapped on the table. It was an anxious habit he had come back with from his two tours. “Captain America needs my help, and I can’t turn him down.” 

“Even if it means losing me?” You asked, your voice a whisper in the air passing between the two of you. 

There was silence for a long time after that. You knew this couldn’t be easy for him. The two of you had gone through so much together that letting each other go had always seemed an impossible thing to do. How would you survive? Even though Sam was the one sitting here, cutting the tie, you knew he was thinking the same thing. 

“Even if it means losing you.” Sam answered. 

And just like that, it was over. 

____________________

The first time you saw Sam Wilson after your break up was almost a year later. The forces of the Universe must have been against you, because it was while you were on a third date with a guy. It had been going okay, you always tried to give it at least three dates before you gave up, but you had a feeling it wasn’t going to go anywhere. 

You had a hard time finding any hope about a relationship these days. Not after you had lost the person you thought might have been your soulmate, but you couldn’t sit around your apartment feeling sorry for yourself. You knew he wasn’t. Every once in a while you would get a letter, a postcard, from somewhere across the country, but you never replied. How were you supposed to be getting over him if you were getting reminders of his presence all the time? 

He hadn’t sent a letter this month, so you assumed he had gotten the message, or was too busy saving the world, but then you saw him, sitting at a bar with Steve Rogers, and all the hurt came rushing back like a tidal wave. “Hey, um, can we go somewhere else?” You asked your date, hoping and praying he would say yes. 

“Why? I’ve got us a table reserved and everything.” He told you like it was a big deal, and he had pulled a lot of strings to do so. 

“It’s just my ex is here -” You started to explain, but he cut you off. 

“So?” He asked, giving you an annoyed look. 

Yeah, this relationship was definitely not going anywhere, but you didn’t want to be rude, knowing he had already driven to come into town, and shook your head. You took one more glance at Sam, who hadn’t noticed your presence, and you sighed. “Never mind.” 

This response seemed to please him. He smiled, and gestured toward a booth in the corner. “Go ahead and have a seat, I’ll get us some drinks.” 

It was not your night, that much was for sure. You rubbed your forehead, already feeling a stress headache coming on, and not looking forward to the next at least hour or so. You leaned against the back of the booth, closing your eyes and trying to focus on anything other than the man who you could feel from all the way across the room. You were so lost in thought you didn’t even notice the drink in front of you until your date spoke up. 

“I got you some red wine. I’m sure you’ll find it to your satisfaction.” He said, with a grin. 

You, on the other hand, wanted to grimace. “Oh, thank you.” You replied, once again, not wanting to be rude, and took a sip, trying to fight back a grimace. He was still standing there, and you knew he was assuming that you would scoot over so he would slide in beside you, but you had always thought that was so weird, so you didn’t move, pretending to focus on your glass until he finally sat down across from you. 

In fact, you didn’t even look at him until he cleared his throat, trying to grab your attention. “You look nice tonight.” 

Surprised, but pleased by the genuine compliment, you gave him a hesitant smile. “Thank you, you look -”

“I mean, I’m sure your hair would look nicer down, but -”

Wow. It really was going to be one of the worst dates of your life. 

“She looks great no matter how she wears her hair actually.” A voice interrupted, and your whole body tensed. 

You would recognize that voice anywhere, with the amount of times you had heard it, even though it had been a year since you had heard it in person. You tried to prepare yourself, but there was no way to do so. 

Sam Wilson was not a man you could look at without getting flustered. He looked as great as you remembered, cute smirk, strong jaw, soft eyes, but there was a hint of tiredness, along with something else you couldn’t put your finger on as he looked at you. You wondered what it was, but then decided to chalk it up to him seeing you for the first time in so long. You knew that you were definitely feeling shaken up looking at him, so you imagined he was too. 

Memories of your times together started to cloud your memory as you two stared at each other, and you had no idea how long you were looking at him until your date spoke up, clearing his throat unnecessarily loudly. “Excuse me, we’re on a date.” He spoke up. 

God had his voice always been that irritating, and you had never noticed? “Not a great one from the looks of it.” Sam said, never taking his eyes off of you. 

“Excuse me?!” 

Sam didn’t even spare him a glance. He lifted his arm, and in his hands was a bottle of your favorite beer. “Want to go for a walk?” He asked you, holding it out as an invitation. 

Oh this was a bad idea. A terrible idea. Sam stirred up a lot of emotions inside of you that you struggled to keep in check on a day to day basis. Being alone with him would only bring them to the surface. Not to mention you were on a date, no matter how terrible it was going, and it would be rude to - 

“For old time’s sake?” Sam added, as if he could see your wavering thoughts. 

Ah well, you knew this wasn’t going anywhere anyway. You took the drink from Sam, ignoring the sputtering man at the table, and followed him upstairs and outside to the balcony. 

The two of you sat in silence for several moments, staring out at the city beneath you. Since he had been the one to speak first, you felt like it was your turn, but at the same time, what were you supposed to say? How much you missed him? How sometimes you would wake up in the mornings and forget he was gone? How you had quit your job at the VA because the memories were too much? Sam had been the one to dump you to go on this grand adventure with Captain America. So why was he still sending you postcards and trying to talk to you now? 

“Why did you never write me back?” Sam said, breaking the silence. 

“Why did you keep writing to me when I didn’t?” You asked, avoiding his question as you took a sip of your beer. God that was so much better than red wine. 

“We were together for three years -” He started to say, but you cut him off. 

“Exactly, Sam. We were together until you decided to end it. Do you know how it felt getting those letters? It was like I was getting stabbed, over and over, and you were holding the knife.” You told him, anger rising in your chest. All you had wanted to do was try and get over him, yet here he was, trying to pull you back, like he had tried with those letters. 

When he replied, you could hear the frustration in his tone. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you! I just . . .” He trailed off, and you found yourself getting even more upset, wanting to know what he was about to say. 

“You just what?” You repeated, urging him on. When he didn’t respond again, you couldn’t take it anymore. You put your beer down on the table behind him. “You know what? Keep your beer. When you decide why you wanted to continue to make my life miserable, you can let me know.” You said, tears streaming down your face as you stormed off, doing your best not to look back. 

____________________

There were no more letters. Nothing to remind you that Sam Wilson existed at all until his face was plastered all over your television. 

Criminal, wanted by the government, treason, all scary words that didn’t fit the man that you knew and loved. You knew something wasn’t right, and you couldn’t help but worry about him no matter how hard you tried to forget him. 

Then one night, your phone rang, and when you answered, it was a familiar voice on the other end of the line. “Hey sweet girl.” 

The voice was filled with static, and you knew he couldn’t be calling from a good phone, and you had no idea how far away he was either, but there was no mistaking his voice. “Sam,” You sighed in relief, grabbing your pillow and hugging it close to your chest. “What the hell is going on? You’re all over the TV, and they’re calling you -”

Sam chuckled, like he always had when you started rambling. “Yeah, I bet I am. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it when I get back.” 

Those words sent a shock straight to your heart. “When you get back -”

“I guess if I come back.” He replied, and in seconds, your anxiety multiplied. 

“Sam . . .” Your voice was calm even though you were not. “What are you doing?” 

“There’s this guy . . . Big, alien guy. We have to take him out, or it’s going to be real bad.” He said, and your fingers tightened their grip on the pillow you were holding. “If something happens, I wanted to answer your question.” 

“My question?” What question? You hadn’t talked to him in so long. What could he have to tell you - 

“I didn’t send those letters to hurt you.” Sam said, and you didn’t dare interrupt him. “I sent them because about one minute after I walked out of our apartment, I realized how bad I messed up.” There was a pause as he waited to see if you had anything to say, but you couldn’t speak. “It thought if I sent you those letters, I would keep you thinking about me. Now I know how selfish that was. This whole damn thing is selfish, but if something happens to me, I wanted you to know I still-”

“Shut up.” You cut him off before he could say anything else, taking a deep breath and forcing yourself to hold back your tears. “Don’t say another word until you come back here and can say it in person.” You demanded. 

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a few moments, but when he spoke, you could almost hear the grin in his voice. “Yes, ma’am.” There was a loud rumble of noise from his end, and when he spoke, his tone was serious once more. “I’ve got to go.” 

“Sam?” You said, stopping him from hanging up. “Please be careful.” 

____________________

Five years had passed in what felt like the blink of an eye. For you, it basically had been. One moment you had been standing in line for some takeout, hoping that at any moment your phone would start vibrating against your hip, and Sam would be calling you to tell you that he was on his way. The next you had popped up in the exact same place, that was now deserted, half the people that had been there with you materializing as well. All of you were equally confused, and it took awhile for everyone to realize what had happened. 

In about a week, you were busy moving all of your stuff into a new apartment since your old one was now occupied. Everything had been put down in their various rooms when there was a knock on your door. Letting out a groan, you stood up off the couch, assuming you had forgotten something, and made your way over to the door, not even bothering to see who was on the other side before opening it. 

“Hey,” Sam Wilson said, appearing at your doorway as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

All your emotions came rushing back in a tidal wave, and you threw your arms around his neck, clutching him close to you. At once, he wrapped his own arms around you, hugging you even tighter against his chest. “You’re alive.” You murmured against his skin. You hadn’t known, and you didn’t even know who you could call to find out. 

“I had a promise to keep, didn’t I?” Sam replied, walking you backwards into your new apartment and shutting the door behind him without letting even an inch of space between the two of you. 

“But Sam . . .” You pulled back enough so that you could look into his eyes. “There’s so much going on right now . . . don’t they need you to -”

“They can wait. I’m not wasting any more time away from you.” He said, one of his large hands reaching up to cup your face. “Nothing’s been right since I’ve walked away, and I want to change that right now.” 

Tears started filling up your eyes as he spoke, one of your hands reaching up to hold the one that was against your face. “Sam . . .” 

“I love you.” He said, “and I’m never going to forget how much again.” 

The logical part of your brain said that you needed to make him prove it. See him grovel, all the normal things that a person wishes for after a break up. After all, what assurances did you have that the next time Sam wanted to go on a big adventure, the same thing wouldn’t happen again? 

Your heart, on the other hand, knew Sam Wilson like nothing else. Yes, the possibility was there that he would hurt you again, but the sincerity in his eyes was obvious, and besides . . . 

Maybe it was worth it. Just to keep loving Sam for a little while longer. 

“I love you too,” You replied, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him for the first time in a long time.

It was worth every second apart.

[whitecatindisguise]

Taking It Too Far

So I've watched Fan Friction episode and immediately I was struck by how wrong they approached the subject. Hiro was right to be upset, but the producers didn't give him the right reason. This story is an attempt to right the wrongs. That, and there are also other changes to the basic episode plot because 1) I didn't remember everything and didn't really have time nor mood to rewatch it, 2) I thought some things would be better if changed a bit.

Anyway, I hope you like it and enjoy yourselves.

AO3 link here

... and there, inside the lab, was Captain Cutie’s beautiful girlfriend, Karmi. The two locked eyes and-

“Hey, Fred. What are you doing?” Hiro popped out from behind the man and looked at the other’s screen. He squinted his eyes, skimming through the words. “Is that-?”

“A fanfiction about us? Sure is!” Fred cut in enthusiastically, grinning wildly. “And I gotta tell you, man, it’s amazing! The plot, the characters, the action, the characters!”

Hiro rose one eyebrow, clearly not siding with the other’s enthusiasm. His gaze wandered back to the screen and he stopped dead.

“Why am I called Captain Cutie? And why Karmi is my girlfriend? Who wrote this?!” He asked angrily. Him and Karmi? Never in a lifetime!

“I don’t know, but they post as KHeartsQT.” Fred waved his hand dismissively, his focus solely on the story.

Hiro hummed and moved the cursor to the author’s name and clicked on it, recoiling the moment a pop-up window showed a profile picture.

There, on Fred’s computer screen, his greatest nemesis was staring back at him.

***

“I can’t believe it!” Hiro burst into the main lab, stomping past Honey Lemon and almost bumping into confused Wasabi, who barely managed to jump away. Without a word of apologise, the young teen approached his working space and shoved his backpack onto the desk, sitting down heavily on the chair.

“What’s up with him?” Go Go popped a balloon as she stated at the clearly upset boy.

“Nothing. He just doesn’t like Karmi’s fan fiction.” Fred shrugged as he strolled inside and flopped onto his armchair. “Can’t really relate. It’s amazing! And did you see how she named me? Flame Jumper! Not as cool as Fredzilla, obviously, but points for awesomeness.”

“Oh, I read it.” Honey Lemon chimmed in. “It’s really well-written. Although, I don’t know why my name is Tall Girl. I’m not that tall, aren’t I?”

A series of weeeeell’s and ummmm’s echoed in the lab and the ginger-haired woman dropped her head down in response.

“She called me Chop Chop.” Wasabi added. “I can see where it’s coming from, but it makes me sound like some character from the kid’s show, and not a proper superhero.”

“Speed Queen.” Go Go spoke from her side of the lab, tinkering with some kind of miniature scooter. “Sounds cool.”

“All of you have normal nicknames. But she called me Captain Cutie. And made herself my- ugh- girlfriend.” Hiro cringed as he spoke. “Who even gave her a right to write about us? I don’t remember giving my permission, do you?”

“Calm down, Hiro. It’s just a story.”  Honey Lemon put a hand on his shoulder but he shook it off.

“Well, maybe I don’t appreciate being put in a story that’s clearly fake and totally unrealistic?!” He snatched his backpack and stomped towards the door. “I’m going to work in my lab. Away from that nonsense.”

With these words, he stormed out, his angry footsteps and muttering audible until he turned the corridor.

“Wow. Talk about negative energy.” Wasabi commented, as they stared at the door.

***

In the coming days, Hiro’s mood only got worse. Everyone on the campus seemed to enjoy Karmi’s story, some even starting to ship Karmiutie, as they began to call the imagined pairing between Karmi and Captain Cutie. Hiro couldn’t even take a step without someone saying something about the story or the ship, or, which happened more often than he would like it, mentioning both.

Karmi seemed to love the attention. Other students called to her on the corridor, expressing their enjoyment of her story and some even daring to ask whether she and Captain Cutie really were a couple. Hiro didn’t stay to hear the girl’s response, stomping away angrily, to the confusion of the students.

With everything going on, he was unfocused and started failing classes he usually had no trouble with. Professor Granville seemed to be both upset and concerned about this change. He couldn’t tell her what bothered him, however, so he made an excuse about not feeling well lately. He wasn’t sure she believed him.

To make things worse, his upset state started to affect his superhero work as well. He kept making mistakes leading to the whole team getting into trouble and only barely managing to catch criminals they encountered. This only led to his mood worsening.

The young teen was walking down the hallway, trying to tune out the conversations revolving around the newest chapter of the fan fiction, when he suddenly collided with someone and they both landed in the floor, stunned by the hit.

“Hey, watch where you’re going!” He heard an annoyingly familiar voice and he looked up to see Karmi picking herself up from the floor, snatching her phone from where it slid off during the crash.

“I was. Which you would notice if you wasn’t gaping at your phone, producing those abominations of yours all the time.” Hiro seethed, picking himself up from the floor.

“Excuse you!” Karmi huffed in response. “What’s your problem?!”

“Oh, I don’t know?” Hiro replied, anger seeping into his voice. “Maybe that you write about real people and forcing them into fake relationships to release your crazy fantasies? Or maybe that you give stupid names which don’t fit the characters at all?”

“For your information, everybody loves my story. I even have some faithful fans that comment on every chapter, like Fredelicious24.” Karmi replied defensively. “And since nobody knows what their real names are, I’m allowed to use whatever I want.”

“I’m sure Captain Cutie is thrilled to be called that.” Hiro rebounded, rolling his eyes at the nickname.

“Maybe he is!” the girl shouted back. “What do you know, anyway?”

“Ugh, forget it!” The dark-haired teen shoved his arms apart and stomped away, trying to ignore the whispering from the students who watched the encounter.

It was around lunch time, when his friends found him, sitting alone in the cafeteria, poking his food with an upset expression.

“Hiro, what’s wrong? We heard about your argument with Karmi.” Honey Lemon started, as they all took their seats.

“Yeah, so? Are you also going to tell me what a jerk I am? I heard it at least twenty times by now.” He huffed, impaling one of the fries onto the fork and biting on it angrily.

“We just want to help.” Wasabi replied, eyeing as the teen gathered several more fries and stuffed them all into his mouth, munching aggressively.

“But we can’t, until you tell us what’s going on.” Go Go added.

Just then, several students passed by, the pieces of their conversation about Karmi’s story and the Karmiutie ship reaching their eyes. Hiro grunted and picked up his tray, pushing the chair away.

“I’m going to eat in my lab.” He said and walked away.

“That is highly insanitary!” Wasabi called after him.

Honey Lemon looked thoughtful, as she stared at the retreating back of the young teen, and gazed at the group of students, who had now taken over one of the tables nearby.

“Of course! Why didn’t I notice that before?” He exclaimed triumphantly. The others looked at her questioningly. “Come on, we have to talk to him!” she gathered her stuff and rushed off, others staring in the direction she went.

“So... Do we follow or...?” Wasabi asked. Right then, Fred’s phone buzzed and he gasped.

“The creepy knife-lady escaped from prison!” He exclaimed. They shared a look.

“Guess we’ll talk to Hiro after that.” Go Go commented, as they left the cafeteria.

***

To say the action went well would be a major understatement. Not only did Momakase escape, but she also cut through Go Go’s disks, left Honey Lemon and Fred stuck in the goo, Baymax lost one of his leg thrusters and rocket fist, and Wasabi’s blades needed a serious repair.

Hiro was trying to help, but the conversation with Karmi was still fresh in his mind and he couldn’t properly focus on the fight. It was pathetic, even he had to agree.

He angrily took of his helmet and shoved it towards the wall. It hit the divider with a metallic clang and fell to the floor, leaving a small dent in where it met with the structure.

“Your body language indicated extreme anger.” Baymax spoke from behind. Hiro huffed.

“Oh yeah? How did you figure that one out?” He asked, sitting on his chair with arms crossed.

“You are making a face expression known as frown.” Baymax said. “Your body is tense and you are-“

“I was being sarcastic, Baymax.” Hiro interrupted. Baymax blinked.

“I am not programmed to recognise sarcasm.” The robot replied and Hiro groaned.

“Hiro? You there?” Honey Lemon called out and the whole gang entered his garage, suits off.

“Just peachy.” The young teen answered, starting to take off Baymax’s armour.

“Don’t worry, dude. We’ll get the crazy knife-lady next time.” Fred patted his friend’s shoulder comfortingly. Hiro glared at him and the man slowly backed away.

“We’re worried about you, Hiro.” Honey Lemon spoke again, her eyes matching her words. “Is it about Karmi’s story?”

“What? Noooo.” Hiro waved his hand nonchalantly. Everyone stared at him, unimpressed.

“It’s totally about the story.” Go Go said.

“Definitely.” Wasabi agreed.

Hiro sighed and turned away, hugging his arm.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He mumbled.

“Your body language indicates discomfort.” Baymax spoke.

“Hiro... You are clearly upset about it.” Honey Lemon said. “And I think I know why.”

“Y-you do?” Hiro asked, but backed down really quick. “I-I mean, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, Honey Lemon, why would he be upset with it! The story is epic!” Fred joined in, unaware of Hiro’s frown deepening as the male kept on talking. “The plot is amazing, there are so many cliffhangers and, of course, the cherry on top being Karmiutie, of which, by the way, I am the president of the fanclub and-“

He was interrupted by the slam of the door and he blinked, only now noticing they were left alone in the garage, Hiro nowhere to be seen.

“Way to go, dumbass.” Go Go commented as she popped a balloon.

“What did I do?” Fred blinked. There was a collective slap as everyone else facepalmed.

Honey Lemon put on a determined face and followed the way the teen went. The others followed, saying their greetings to Aunt Cass on their way past, making a beeline towards the back and up to the living area. Hiro was, unsurprisingly, sitting by his desk, tapping furiously at his laptop.

“Hiro?” The ginger-haired woman softly spoke up. The said teen huffed in response.

“I though I made it clear I don’t want to talk about it.” He said angrily.

“She’s not letting this one go, so you might as well stop being stubborn.” Go Go crossed her arms and leaned over the doorframe, clearly making sure his only escape route is blocked.

“Hiro, please.” Honey Lemon kneeled down to find herself at his eye level. “We just want to help.”

“There is nothing any of us can do to help.” The teenager mumbled, looking away. “Besides, it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. And you have every right to be upset.” The woman replied softly.

Hiro pointedly looked back at his laptop, attempting to ignore them. The redhead didn’t back out, however.

“We were all so caught up in how good Karmi’s story is that we failed to notice how upsetting it is for you. After all, it’s your hero persona she chose to pair herself with.” Honey Lemon spoke up. The tapping of the keyboard stopped, but the teen didn’t turn around yet. “And, knowing the characters are real, people started to assume the relationship is real, too. And that’s wrong. What Karmi is doing is wrong. You can’t just- what’s the word they use for saying two characters are in a romantic relationship...?”

“Ship.” Helpfully suggested Fred.

“Yes, thanks, Freddie.” Honey Lemon smiled thankfully and turned back to Hiro. “You can’t just ship two real people. It’s wrong. It shouldn’t be acceptable.”

“And yet I seem to be the only one who has problem with that.” The teen mumbled, his back still to his friends.

“I think it’s because the story is about our superhero personas.” Fred interjected and everyone, even Hiro, looked at him in confusion. “I mean, superheroes themselves feel like fictional characters. And, even though everyone knows we are real, it’s still hard to distinguish that if we’re also the characters in a work of fiction, which, by definition, means it’s not real. It creates somewhat a paradox and people just don’t completely realise the fiction part actually refers only to the story itself and not the characters.”

Everyone stared dumbfoundedly at the millionaire, who blinked and starred back.

“What?” He asked.

“We just didn’t expect you to say something so... thoughtful.” Wasabi finally said, the others nodding in agreement.

“Hey, I can act smart too, you know?” Fred argued and then promptly took out an unwrapped candy from his pocket, have it a testing lick, shrugged and put it in his mouth. Everyone shuddered.

“Aaaand the usual Fred is back.” Go Go commented while Wasabi tried to not puke.

“Even if what he said is true, it’s not like I can just go and tell her to stop.” Hiro picked up the conversation to take their minds of Fred and the candy. “What should I even say? Hey, Karmi, you know this story you write? You should stop because I don’t like you shipping yourself with this guy, whose name is definitely not Captain Cutie. Cool? Cool.”

Fred snorted but Go Go quickly elbowed him in the ribs to stop. Hiro groaned and hid his head between his arms. Honey Lemon approached the teen and put her hand on his shoulder.

“Maybe not as Hiro you, but if you explained it as your superhero you?” She suggested, smiling encouragingly.

“I am not going to change into my armour just so I can talk to Karmi.” He replied sternly and sighed. “I just- gonna have to live with it... somehow...”

“If you have a problem with something or someone, you should speak up, genius.” Go Go said.

“Talking is the key to the healthy communication.” Baymax agreed.

“Ugh, fine.” Hiro said. “I’ll talk to her. If I see her on a patrol or something.”

“Hiro-“ Honey Lemon started to say but the robot cut her in.

“I’ve found a disturbing information in the local news. Playing it now.”

The screen on his chest turned on and a reporter appeared, speaking about some message being sent to their station this afternoon. The view changed, and they saw Momakase, grinning at the camera.

“Welcome, Big Hero 6.” She said, looking far too happy about something. “I advise you to come to the Akuma Island. And make haste, unless you want something bad happen to someone’s girlfriend.”

She smirked and stepped aside to show a chair. And on this chair, tied up and sputtering curses, was-

“Karmi!” Everyone, sans Hiro gasped.

“She’s not my girlfriend!” Hiro shouted.

***

“Okay, we go in, take Momakase down, free Karmi and get out of here.” Hiro said as Baymax flew them towards the remote island. “Baymax, as soon as you are in range, scan the place for both Karmi and Momakase.”

The robot didn’t reply, but the teenager knew he acknowledged the order and will get to it whenever it’s possible.

“Oh, this gives the perfect opportunity for you to talk to Karmi about you-know-what.” Fred piped up from where he was held by the scruff of his costume in Baymax’s right hand.

“I’d rather focus on the current problem first.” Hiro mumbled back.

“I’m just saying.” The millionaire shrugged, but, luckily, dropped the subject.

Several minutes later, they were creeping the abandoned hallways of old Krei Enterprises facility, Baymax leading them in the direction he sensed Karmi from. Momakase, surprisingly, didn’t turn up on the scan.

“Karmi is inside.” Baymax said, stopping in front of the metal door.

Hiro nodded and looked to Wasabi and Honey Lemon, pointing his head towards the door. The woman tapped the keys on her purse and produced a green-coloured ball. She plastered it to the frame and pulled on one side, the goo expanding to create something like a line. Each one of them, except for Wasabi, caught the goo-line and held strong, while the said man cut through metal around where the goo was stuck. When the cut was finished, they pulled the piece out, managing to not hit it on anything, hence making their entrance silent.

Baymax put the cut-out metal aside and they climbed through the opening one by one. In the middle of the room, under a single spotlight, stood a chair. And on this chair, quite unsurprisingly, Hiro had to say, was Karmi, tied and gagged.

As soon as the teen noticed the heroes, she started to squirm and let out muffled noises, trying desperately to communicate with them. Hiro secretly turned on his voice-modulating device, motioning for the rest of the team to do the same, before approaching the captured girl. It was in situations like this, he was glad he once decided to equip their armours with both face-covering visors and voice modulators. It lowered the chance of being recognised if they had to be around people who knew them personally.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you out in no time.” He reassured Karmi and reached for her gag. As soon as it was off, Karmi gasped and screamed.

“It’s a trap!”

At this precise moment, purple-coloured bars rose from the floor and circled around the heroes and Karmi. They all whirled around, shocked by their sudden appearance.

“Like stealing a candy from a kid.” A familiar voice said from the shadows, and Momakase strolled into viee, a smirk on her lips.

“You think you can keep us in here?” Hiro asked and nodded at Wasabi.

Before going in, they decided they were not going to use their names around Karmi, since figuring out new nicknames would take too long, and Hiro was not going to use their fanfiction names, for obvious reasons. So they agreed on silent communication instead, which, so far, worked perfectly well.

Wasabi approached the bars and slashed at them with a cocky grin, but just as fast he jumped back with a pained yelp, when the bars zapped him.

“What in the world?!” He squeaked, rubbing at his arm.

“Did you really think I would use regular cage, knowing of your abilities?” Momakase laughed, strolling slowly along the bars. “You’re not getting out of this one.”

“Oh really?” Honey Lemon challenged and quickly produced a pink-coloured chem-ball from her purse. She let it drop to the floor and quickly side-stepped, as it bounced off the bars and hit the chair, acid eating through the wood.

“I told you it’s not a regular cage.” Momakase smirked and looked extremely pleased with herself. “This one was created by our mutual acquaintance specifically to hold you lot in place.”

“Mutual- what are you talking about?!” Hiro asked angrily.

“I believe he goes by the name Obake.” The woman replied and watched the heroes faces morph into horror as they recognised the name. “Well, anyway, it was nice to chat and all that, but I have to go. As for you...” She produced a small device from her pocket and pushed the button, the lights in the room suddenly turning red and the alarm ringing. “Have fun getting out of here before this whole place blows up.” She waved her hand at them and ran away, leaving them to their doom.

“Ohmigosh-! This place is going to blow up! We’re stuck in a impenetrable cage in a building that’s going to blow up any second now and-“ Wasabi spoke in a high voice, his eyes wide and breath hitching.

“Calm down.” Hiro said. “We’re getting out of here in no time.”

“How?!” Wasabi squeaked. “You saw what happened. My blades don’t work, and neither does the acid!”

“We just need more strength, that’s all.” The teen replied calmly and turned to Baymax. “Initiate Overdrive Mode.” He ordered.

At those words the robot started to change. Pieces of armour hid, others extended. A moment later, a completely unrecognisable Baymax, sans his colours, stood in front of the group.

“That’s... I wrote about it!” Karmi breathed out, astonished. “You read my story?!”

“Can we talk about it after we escape?” Hiro suggested, and Go Go noticed how he shuddered slightly at Karmi’s exclamation. “The sword, please.”

Baymax reached his had to his back and produced a heavy-looking blade. He took a swing and sliced right though the bars, Hiro grinning at the performance.

“Good job. Turn it off before it drains all of your power.” He said and Baymax swiftly came back to his original look. “Now everyone hop on and hold on tight. We don’t know how much time we have and I’d rather not risk running back the way we came from.”

One rocket fist later, they shot out of the roof. And not a moment too soon, as the facility blew up just as they managed to get to the safe distance. Baymax flew them back to the city and they all jumped off to the ground.

“Um... Thank you... For saving me.” Karmi mumbled, blushing as she took a glance at Hiro. The teen was painfully reminded she had a crush on his superhero persona.

“That’s what we do.” He replied, looking away. Honey Lemon came closer and gently nudged his shoulder, an encouraging smile on her lips. He sighed and turned towards Karmi. “Actually, there is something I want to tell you. It’s... it’s about your story.”

“My- YOU READ IT?!” The girl squealed, her eyes almost turning star-shaped.

“Of course, it’s amazing and-“ Fred was painfully elbowed in the stomach by Go Go before he could say anything more.

“I... How do I..?” Hiro scratched the back of his neck as he searched for words. “I read some of it, and you’re really talented but- I don’t really feel comfortable with it, you know?”

“I don’t understand...” Karmi cocked her head to the side in confusion. “Why?”

“It’s because of how you portray us. Portray me.” The teen elaborated. “I’m not- we’re not a pair, Karmi. I know it is a work of fiction and it’s not real, but writing that you are my girlfriend, having all those people read it... It’s not right.”

“Oh...” The girl looked down, suddenly not able to meet his eye. “I didn’t mean to-“

“I know.” He reassured. “I know you really want this to be true, but this is not the way. How would you feel if someone wrote a story about you and put you in a romantic relationship in said story? No matter if you like this person or not, it’s wrong to ship real life people.”

“I- I’m sorry.” Karmi said, still looking away. “I guess I was so caught up with my own fantasy, I didn’t stop to think how would you feel about it.”

“It’s alright.” Honey Lemon spoke up, smiling kindly. “You didn’t know.”

“But I should have thought about it. And I didn’t.” Karmi admitted. “I.. I will delete it once I get home. I’m sorry I upset you.”

“Thank you.” Hiro smiled thankfully at the girl. “And I meant it, you’re an amazing writer. Maybe you could still write about us, just no shipping this time.” He winked and Karmi blushed.

“You... still want me to write about you? Even after...?” She asked, puzzled by the suggestion.

“Between the two of us...” Hiro leaned closer and whispered to the girl’s ear. “I wouldn’t trust anyone else with our story.”

Karmi blushed fiercely, mumbled something that sounded like “thankyouihavetogonowbye” and ran away, her cheeks red. The heroes looked at her retreating figure.

“You didn’t mention the name.” Go Go pointed out as they started on their way back to Fred’s manor to leave their armours there.

“I can live with Captain Cutie.” Hiro shrugged with a smile.

---

That's it. I hope you liked it. Reblog if you did. I live for reblogs.

[ajnerdess]

The end of an era (Javier x reader angst)

So, as previously mentioned, I had this idea for a full fanfiction about the reader who is in a relationship with Javier who gets closer to Charles while he’s in Guarma and then the reader feels torn between the two and so I thought I would post bits and pieces of it (seeing as I don’t have time for another fully fleshed out fanfic) so here’s a chapter about how the reader is once Javier returns and they are in Beaver Hallow and she feels a distance between her and Javier as he grows more erratic and mean towards half the camp. Lots of angst and a lil fluff ahead….

You watched as Micah conversed with your lover Javier, not bothering to hold back a frown as you thought of Micah digging his claws into your love. Javier was a good man, a great man. He was kind, and brave and always stood for the right thing, that was, until recently. He followed Dutch blindly and grew more angry and confrontational towards Arthur, John and Charles in particular, going as far as to accuse John of betrayal when speaking to Bill and Micah. He grew short with you when you tried to make him see sense, that perhaps Dutch was no longer behaving in the interest of the gang and was losing his way, but Javier refused to see it, refusing to believe the man who saved his life and took him in could be capable of turning on his family.

You approached Javier and Micah, smoothing your hands over your legs nervously.

“Javier, could I have a word with you please? In private?”

Javier glanced up at you. “Later amor, later” he said.

You breathed out as you looked down at the ground. “Please?”

Micah growled, stabbing the table with his knife. “He’s busy sweetheart, he’ll deal with you later.”

You paused, waiting for Javier to defend you. The Javier you knew would have jumped to defend you, hell, he had punched Micah for insulting him a few months ago. You shot Javier a pleading look but he refused to meet your eyes and you stormed off, going to check on Karen as you left him to talk with Micah.

The gang was falling apart. Doubt and divide filled the camp, Molly was dead, shot by Susan. Hosea, Lenny, Sean, they were all gone, and when Javier and the others returned from Guarma, they had brought a sadness with them that had failed to leave the camp since. It didn’t help that Beaver Hallow was a horrible place, surrounded by angry Murphree Brood gang members looking for revenge since Arthur and Charles had cleared their people out of the camp.

You had tried to help Karen over her addiction to alcohol, but since losing Sean, she was a lost cause.

One of your few remaining friends, Charles had taken to helping Rains Fall and his tribe out and you had been helping him, until Javier had returned. Things had been strained between you both as a result, perhaps because Charles had always harboured feelings for you, and Javier’s return had meant you had stuck by your lover instead of going to Charles.

Everything was wrong. Everything was broken and after checking on Karen, you went to the edge of the camp, allowing yourself a moment to cry.

“Hey Y/N, everything ok?”

You wiped your tears before turning to see Arthur. He was thin, his eyes bloodshot and he had not been able to shift a nasty cough he had for weeks now. He was sick, with what you didn’t know, but seeing your friend in such a condition was hard to watch.

“Oh, Arthur, hello, yes I’m fine thank you, are you alright?”

Arthur stood next to you and stared down at you. You hated when people asked you how you were when you felt this way, it seemed to drive you to tears more, and you didn’t do much of anything but cry lately.

Arthur sighed as he looked out to the mountains. “I’m alive, for now at least, that seems to be about as well as the rest of us are doin’ at the minute, listen is Javier treatin’ you right? I notice he’s been acting up in camp, you don’t have to tell me anythin’ darlin’ I just want to know you’re safe.”

You nudged him affectionately, before looking at the ground, feeling tears sting your eyes.

“He’s just, I just wish he could see Dutch’s faults, and Micah, always talking in his ear, he’s poisoning him Arthur, I know he is. But he just thinks I’m nagging him, trying to isolate him from his friends, he can’t see I’m just worried because I care. I don’t know what to do Arthur, I don’t know if even loves me anymore Arthur, I seem to annoy him all the time.”

You felt Arthur’s hand on your shoulder. “I know darlin’, half the damn camp are actin’ like fools and they can’t see the woods through the trees nowadays, Javier ain’t like the others though, he ain’t stupid like Bill, or mean for mean’s sake like Micah, he’ll see sense. He loves you, I know that, always has, that love ain’t goin’ anywhere darlin’ you just, stay strong.”

You hugged Arthur softly, but as you did, he was seized by a coughing fit, you patted his back and waited for it to ease, the force of it practically taking his breath away.

“Oh Arthur, I have a recipe for a tonic that might ease that coughing a little, will you let me make you some, please? It’s the least I could do.”

He shook his head. “I’m fine darlin’ please, don’t trouble yourself.”

You took his hand in your own. “Please Arthur, please let me help, you’re my friend, let me help you.”

He paused before nodding. “Ok, ok fine, just don’t trouble yourself too hard for it.”

You nodded before going towards your tent. As you approached, you saw Javier talking to Charles as he tried to mend the carriage.

“What’s your problem brother?”

Charles looked up at Javier from where he was kneeling. “No problem.”

“No you got a problem, look at how you’re acting” Javier retorted.

You walked closer, watching Javier and Charles argue was painful to watch.

“I don’t have a problem, do you have a problem?” Charles asked.

“I don’t know yet” Javier threatened.

You stood between them. “Javier stop, just leave him alone, please, please, look at me, leave it, please” you begged him.

“Use your brain friend, use your brain” Javier said, ignoring you.

“I’ll use my brain, and you use yours” Charles replied, calm as always.

“Oh, you wanna die?” Javier threatened, causing you to reach out and touch his chest. “Javier! Stop, please, will you stop this?”

Javier continued to ignore you. “You’re making a dumb choice man” he told Charles.

“I made no choices” Charles answered, standing up as he faced Javier.

Javier reached around you and spat at Charles’ feet before storming off.

You stood there in disbelief, you had never seen Javier behave so cruelly to those he called friends before. Charles wiped his shoe on the ground as he shook his head.

“Are you alright?” you asked him.

“Fine” he answered.

You looked at him for a moment. “I’m, I’m so sorry Charles, I’m sorry” you said and finally your tears fell as you gripped the side of the carriage, feeling the onset of emotion hit you.

Charles instinctively reached out to you, touching your arm softly. “It’s alright Y/N, it’s not your fault he’s like this.”

You frowned as your tears fell. “I don’t know what’s happening Charles, this isn’t like him, he isn’t cruel. He isn’t a bad man, but whatever happened in Guarma has changed him. I can’t even talk to him anymore, he won’t listen to me, he thinks I’m trying to cause problems, he doesn’t even see me half the time. He’s slipping away and I can’t, I don’t know how to fix this.”

You wanted nothing more than to throw your arms around Charles but Javier had already threatened him, if he saw you hugging him, god knows what he would do to the poor man you cared for so deeply.

Charles gave you a look of sympathy, he wasn’t sure what to say in truth. Javier had changed. His behaviour was inexcusable and Charles wasn’t sure how best to comfort you.

“It will be alright Y/N, things will work out, he’ll see sense, he’s just, confused.”

You nodded, touching his hand on your shoulder gently. “Charles, you are too kind to me, I don’t deserve you. I’m sorry for Javier’s behaviour, if he, if he threatens you again, will you please let me know?”

Charles smirked. “I think I can handle myself against him Y/N, but if he keeps making you cry, not sure I’ll be able to hold myself back from giving him a piece of my mind.”

You sighed, not wanting your friends and lover to fight anymore. You decided to try and speak to Javier.

He was whittling down by the river alone and he barely looked up at you when you sat by his side.

“Javier, what did Charles do to warrant such threats?”

He pressed his knife against the wood harder. “Always sneaking off against Dutch’s orders, working with others, been with us less than a year and he’s already disloyal.”

“He started helping Rains fall when you and the others were gone, he doesn’t mean any harm, he’s a good man, like you, you know that.”

Javier huffed. “He should be staying with us and only us, instead of sneaking off to others.”

“He didn’t deserve your anger Javier” you said quietly.

He stood up and went to leave. “Fine, take his side, go against me.”

You stood up and grabbed his arm, holding him back. “No wait, please Javi, don’t go, don’t shut me out, I love you, I want to understand you, please don’t shut me out again.”

He paused, staying put. He looked up at you. “You have to trust me querida, you have to trust Dutch, if we trust him, he’ll get us out of this mess and we can escape this life and be together, get married, have babies, just like you wanted.”

You moved to hold his hands softly. He made everything sound so good, so achievable even now.

“Javier, I know you love Dutch, I know you trust him and I know you think you owe him for saving your life, but, lately, Dutch’s choices have been more and more erratic, whatever happened in Guarma, it wasn’t good, for any of you I can see that. But I think it might have changed Dutch for the worst. I don’t think he’s the man you think he is, I don’t think he’s the same man who saved you.”

Javier snatched his hands back from yours. “You don’t know him like I know him. I trust him, I listen to him, he’s always gotten us out of trouble.”

“And what of Davey? Jenny? Mac, Sean, Lenny, even Hosea Javier, Dutch’s plans led to their deaths.”

Javier frowned. “You’re blaming him for their deaths? It’s the life we live y/n, it’s tough, people die. It isn’t Dutch’s fault.”

“His plans are getting more and more rushed, nonsensical, please Javi, you must see that.”

“I trust him” Javier repeated.

“And what of me? Don’t you trust me anymore? Do my words mean nothing anymore? Don’t you love me anymore?”

Javier faltered, his hands going to your face. “Of course I love you mi amor, of course I trust you. That’s why I’m doing all of this, that’s why I’m keeping to the plan, because I love you, because I want you safe, can’t you see that? Everything I do is because I love you, it’s all for you.”

“I wish you could see Javi, I wish you could see the truth, you have to believe me when I say, when the chips are down, Dutch will save himself, and only himself. We need to start thinking about our own lives” you said quietly.

Javier pulled away again, frowning at you. “Are you trying to get me to choose between you and Dutch?”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that, truly I don’t. But I wish you could see that I want you to be safe, Dutch wants you to help him for his own gain, why would I say any of this unless I loved you? Do you think I enjoy this? Do you think I want you to choose? I just want you to see sense Javi, please.”

Javier threw his hands up. “Unbelievable. Arthur and Charles are poisoning you against me, I have to go, Dutch wants me for something. I’ll make sure I don’t tell anyone about this conversation, I suggest you do the same, Susan’s pretty trigger happy when it comes to traitors.”

You flinched at that, it felt like a threat. Your lover, your Javier, calling you a traitor for wanting him to be safe.

That night you went to sleep alone in the tent you shared with Javier. It felt cold without your lover by your side, and you held the blankets closer to you as you tried to reclaim some warmth.

Hours later, when you were half asleep, you felt arms reluctantly close around you. You felt Javier hold you close, breathing in your scent.

“I hate fighting with you mi amor. I love you so much, I wish you could see that, there was a time when you believed that querida” he whispered.

You turned, resting your hands on his around your waist. “I do believe you love me Javi, as I love you. I love you so much.”

He leaned forward, kissing you gently. “You’ll see hermosa, I’m going to get us out of this life. I’m gonna marry you and give you the life you deserve.”

You cuddled in closer to him. “Just survive long enough for that to happen my love.”

With that you fell asleep together in each other’s arms.

You woke in the middle of the night to a strange feeling something was wrong. Javier was still asleep next to you so you ventured outside your tent. You walked to the edge of the camp where Charles was tending to Taima. As you approached, you saw he was loading his things onto her. He turned to face you, giving you a sad look as your eyes widened.

“Charles, are you leaving?”

He nodded slowly. “I can’t stay here anymore y/n, the gang is, well, all but gone. I have a chance to move on with Rains Fall’s people, a chance at peace.”

You nodded slightly, understanding why he would leave. “You were going to go without saying goodbye?”

Charles blinked as he looked down. “I thought, I thought it might be easier, I didn’t want to make things harder than they needed to be by saying goodbye.”

“So you thought leaving without saying goodbye would make things easier?”

He met your stare. “I’m sorry hummingbird.”

You stepped forward. “Charles, I’ll, I’m sorry, sorry for everything, sorry for all of this” you told him.

“It’s not your fault. None of it is. You were, you were the best part of this gang, you made me stick around with people longer than I have before, I don’t want to leave, but it’s too dangerous.”

You nodded before throwing your arms around him, his warmth enveloping you as he held you back.

“I’ll miss you Charles, so much.”

He held you close, you felt his lips against your neck as he held you and finally, he stepped back.

“Y/N, come with me, I know you love Javier, but I could keep you safe. I love you, I think you know that, that you’ve always known that. Come with me and we can escape together, live a life of peace” he asked you, holding you at arms length.

You considered it, a part of you loved Charles too, if Javier hadn’t returned from Guarma, you saw a life between you and Charles but Javier was here, and you had loved him for so long, and he loved you, despite it all. Could you really leave him for Charles?

You touched his chest, he was so broad and warm, even the touch of him made you feel safe.

“I’m sorry Charles, I can’t leave Javier. If he, if anything happened to him, I could never forgive myself, I’m so sorry, if things were different, I would run away with you in a second, I would start a life with you. You are a good man Charles, the best and I wish I could, I wish I could be there for you, but I love Javier, and I have to stay loyal to him, I’m so sorry.”

Charles nodded solemnly. “I understand hummingbird. I understand. Please stay safe. I wish you every happiness, I hope you find everything you want in this life, you are a great woman, you deserve to be happy.”

He kissed your forehead before he mounted Taima. You touched his leg affectionately before stroking Taima’s nose softly.

“Goodbye girl, I’ll miss you terribly too, such a good girl” you told Taima who nudged at you.

“Charles, be safe, I wish you every happiness too, if I don’t see you in this life again, I’ll look for you in the next. Goodbye” you told him.

He nodded once before finally leaving. You watched him go, until he was nothing but a spec in the distance. 

Javier was all you had now.

Wow, that was way more depressing than i initially intended! These RDR2 feels are bloody heartbreaking! I have a plan to do a second part of this (which won’t be as depressing...... i hope) sorry for hurting anyone, i feel like nobody needs angst writing at the minute, but i couldn’t help it, my fingers just kept typing, i couldn’t control it!

[yandere-wishes]

Ill-Fated //Yandere! Leona Kingscholar X Reader X Yandere! Malleus Draconia//

A similar request was made by @permanentlyexhaustedowl​

TW: Mention of Suicide

🦁 🐉🦁 🐉🦁 🐉🦁 🐉🦁 🐉🦁 🐉🦁 🐉🦁 🐉🦁 🐉🦁 🐉🦁 🐉🦁

Downpour indignantly splattered against the window. Each droplet hitting the glass with a sort of destructive grace. How fortunate they were, you thought wearily,  to be able to control the spam of their existence. To be birthed into this world and then decide for themselves if they wished to stay or not. To have the liberty to impale themselves on nearby walls and casements, on the off chance that they decided to dislike this reality. After all, reality was subjective...for those who were free to choose their realities that is. Some unfortunate few weren't as lucky as those raindrops, nor as free as regular humans. No some were destined to an isolated, dreary existence. Reduced to playing "damsel in distress" for two unhinged monsters. Doomed to be "cherished" by the sinners of this world.

It was invariably evident when Malleus was near, his body radiated a suffocating heat akin to those of a forest fire. His un-seeable flames would always scorch your flesh, always conveying the pain but never the marks, never the charred pinkish marks that were a custom of regular fires. The dark moved silently through the darkroom, his footsteps barely reaching you're ears. Never once did you bother to turn to him, to smile at the prince of thorns, and greet him. Instead, you remain stoic, peering out at the hectic world through your glass barrier. Only flinching when his leather-covered arms folded over you're abdomen, his head rested on you're Trapezius inhaling you're sweet sent like a little lost puppy. 

"I missed you, my love. Classes are so tedious when you aren't with me"

"Than perhaps you should permit me to return to my class,"

"Now darling, don't be foolish, I've made it clear that you are to remain in this room so that we can better protect you!" 

He attempted to keep his voice delicate, as one in the event that they were conversing with a harmed animal. Be that as it may, the malevolence moved through, dribbling into each syllable. Emphasizing the golden rule.  Remain in the room, never venture beyond that door, it's for your own protection. 

No matter how many times you heard it, it still sounded like a lie. A fable made to scare little kids like the boogie man or the monster under the bed. What neither of the dorm leaders realized was they were in no way "protecting" you from danger. Instead, they were keeping you locked up with the danger. They were worst than any boogie man or horrifying monster. At least those ghouls had the decency to kill off their victims instead of making them suffer for so long.

For a brief instant, you broke your emotionless expression. The pain from where his chin met your skin had become excruciating. It was as if a branding iron was melting into your flesh. You sucked in a flimsy breath, just to let out a fit of aggressive coughing.  With all fire there comes, smoke, and although both Malleus' flames and smoke were invisible to the human eye, their essence still had the same effect as a visible one. Malleus' eyes cracked open, peering up at you, his grip tightened keeping your shaking body pinned to his chest. "Would you like some water my little crow?" All you did was nob you're head as the hacking fell from your lips. Almost instantly Malleus let you go and jogged out of the room to retrieve some water. With the evil fae gone, the smoke slowly vanished leaving you gagging for a second before finally regaining your breath.

When Malleus returned offering you the cup of cold water, you practically snatched it and downed the icy liquid in one quick gulp. You turned your head to look up at him, eyes scanning his delicate features, even if he was your tormentor you couldn't deny just how beautiful he was. How every part of him seemed to have been carved by the most skilled sculptor. It was in that moment you realized something, there was meant to be another, another monster prowling around you're prison, one with ears and sharp claws. "Hey, Malleus where's Leona?"

At the mention of his "partner in crime's" name, the raven-haired fae's mouth twisted into a snarl, his fang-like teeth glistening in the light made by the glowing green candles. He puffed one of his cheeks as he looked away with eyes that harbored murderous intent. "That overgrown cat got caught but with something..." he let his voice trail off, as he dramatically plumped down on the black leather couch. His green eyes trailed over you, studying your face for any reaction. There's none...or at least you try to hide under a sheet of detached interest. But Malleus knows better, knows you better then you think. He can see the curiosity bubbling behind your irises. Apathically you walk over to the horned man, sitting stiffly on his lap and turning your torso to face him. "Malleus...where is Leona" there's a sharp, knife-like edge to your voice, but much like your worried expression that too his hidden under a coy, aloof layer. That's how everything is with you three. Every death threat, order, and painful remarks are hidden under a pillow softcover. Play nice

The three of you are always forced to play nice.

"Someone from Ignihyde was looking into your disappearance once more. Trying to play detective. So Leona volunteered to....help me out"

"Well that was nice of hi--"

The old wooden door burst open, just as you came to lay your head on Malleus'. Standing behind the thresh hold was blood-soaked Leona, his dark rugged features blending into an annoyed expression. "Oi, the hell are you two doing? I waste my time to actually protect you and our little secret over there and how do you two useless bottom-feeding herbivores repay me? By getting all lovey-dovey and leaving me to do the dirty work!" 

His voice was more so a lion's roar than any human shout. Each word bounced off the walls and hit you with an impact that felt like a real punch to the gut. Furiously Leona stalked into the room, his nails seemed to grow longer and sharper with each step. When he reached the couch pressed his knees into the leather, caging you under him. One of his claws dangled dangerously close to your face. Only to be slapped away by Malleus. "Are you done roaring kitty cat?" jade eyes glared at emerald one. A silent fight breaking out.

Leona was the first to steal his gaze away. Instead, he slowly started kissing the side of you're neck, softly, almost bordering on lovingly. That was until his sharp fangs pierced your skin so deeply that crimson droplet began to slip out. "Why must you be so messy, you degenerate?" Malleus leaned forward a scowl over his face as his fingers busied themselves with combing through your locks. "Well not all of us are as fragile and spoiled as you. We can't all be princes after all" in a fit of anger Malleus lifted his unoccupied hand, ready to slap Leona. But right before the fae could hit the younger boy, Leona grabbed his wrist and brought it over to his mouth. Playfully he kissed his knuckles before delicately taking one of his fingers into his mouth...

and biting down harshly. Malleus let out a surprised yelp as you attempted to suppress a laugh. "You really are an ill-mannered rough aren't you" Malleus snapped. Leona didn't bother responding instead he just though his head back and laughed maniacally. mumbling under his breath about "what a useless king Malleus would make". Forcefully Malleus grabbed your chin between his fingers, permitting the blood to drip down, even having droplet mix with your own wound. The prince of darkness lowered his lips, pressing them against yours. Robotically you closed your eyes as Malleus continued to glare at Leona.

Disliking the absence of concentration on him, Leona leaned in closed pressing his forehead to the side of your head as he trailed his tongue down your neck, lapping the blood from the open wound. You shivered from the sensation, letting out a moan, creating an opening for Malleus to slip his tongue into your mouth.

Another game they loved to play, see who could get the most reactions from you...

For a split second your eyes fluttered open and stole a gaze at the window. Envy coursed through your corpse. Sure enough, the storm was still raging outside. And those cursed fortunate raindrops were still freely dying voluntarily. Flaunting their freedom, to the poor cursed princess locked inside her gloomy tower with the two cruelest beasts in existence.

[iridescent-petrichor]

the elevator

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: y/n has a panic attack

Words: 1.9K

A/N: Okay so I wrote this about a month ago but I still don’t know if I like it or not. I feel like it’s just not well written, but it’s as good as I can do so hope you enjoy!

In your two years of battling monsters and telepathic little girls, and other dimensions, you never knew you’d have to face evil Russians broadcasting a secret code across Hawkins, Indiana, with your little brother, your boyfriend, a girl from your highschool, and Lucas Sinclair’s younger sister.

The five of you hesitantly approached the box in the middle of the room. You put your hand on Dustin’s shoulder, not sure if you were trying to comfort him or yourself. Erica pulled an exacto-knife from her backpack, handing it off to Steve so he could cut open the box. Once he did, you all saw the top of a metal container. You didn’t work at the mall, but it definitely didn’t look like the usual inventory.

Steve reached forward, twisting the top. With a hiss of air, he pulled it off to reveal four smaller containers. From your angle, none of you could see the contents of them. Curiosity continued to rise between all of you, and you couldn’t help leaning forward to try to get any sense of what was inside.

“That’s definitely not Chinese food.” Steve set the top of the container on top of another box, before reaching for one of the handles. “Uh, maybe you guys should, you know, stand back.”

You moved back a couple of steps with Robin and Erica, silently trying to tell your brother to do the same.

“No.” He said, not taking his eyes off the box. You looked up at Steve, shrugging helplessly.

“Just… Just step back, okay?”

“No.”

“Step back-”

“No!”

“Seriously.”

“No!” Dustin repeated, finally getting Steve to stop and look at him. “If you die, I die.”

You rolled your eyes at how dramatic he was, trying to ignore the pit of anxiety growing in your stomach. It had been many months since any of you had to deal with fighting off demodogs, and the Hawkins Lab was shut down now, but the idea of secret Russians setting up shop in Hawkins made your heart drop.

  Steve stared him down for a couple seconds, before shrugging. “okay.” He reached back into the box, twisting, and pulling one of the containers out. He held it up, and you stepped forward when you saw the unfamiliar green liquid encased in a glass cylinder. “What the hell?”

“What is that?” Robin asked.

Before anyone could even try to respond to her question, you all felt a rumbling around you. The entire room seemed to shift for a moment, effectively catching everyone’s attention. The pit in your stomach grew painfully, and you moved closer to your brother and boyfriend for some semblance of safety.

“Was that just me, or did the room move?” Dustin asked, glancing around before his eyes landed on you. You shook your head, indicating it was not, in fact, just him, and moved towards him some more.

“Booby traps.” Erica whispered, not at all helping your anxiety.

When a mechanical whirring noise started, you wrapped an arm around Dustin, exchanging fearful looks with Steve.

“You know what? Let’s just grab that and go.” Robin yanked the container of weird liquid out of Steve’s hand, and turned to the exit. Dustin immediately obeyed, turning around to press the “Open Door” button. After pressing a couple times, the door had yet to budge.

“Is it not opening?” You whispered, feeling Steve’s hand grab yours in a silent reassurance.

“Which one do I press, Erica?” He ignored you, continuing to press the buttons on the keypad.

“Just press the damn button, nerd.” She retorted.

“Which one? I’m pressing the button, okay?” Dustin said, raising his voice while he continued to press the button.

“Press open door.” Erica mimicked his tone, growing frustrated.

“I’m pressing open door!” Dustin yelled back.

Steve released your hand, frustration taking over. “Just open the- press the other button.”

Without Steve to ground you, you suddenly felt like you couldn’t breathe. Even if you wanted to stop the argument that was unfolding before you, you could barely find the words to calm your friends down.

  “Guys, get out of the way so she can push the button-” Robin tried to talk the group down, but Steve had already shoved Dustin to the side to try it himself.

“Would you stop?” Steve urged Dustin.

“I’m trying.” He shot back, glancing at him for a moment before turning his attention back to the buttons.

“Would you let me just do it? Would you stop?” Steve continued to argue, smashing random buttons to see if any would work.

“Just open the door!” Robin started to yell as well; anxiety evident in her voice.

Another mechanical clang resounded through the room, effectively shutting everyone up. You were pressed up against one of the walls trying to calm yourself down. Being in an enclosed space seemed so much more terrifying than when you had to fight the demodogs. At least then you had space to run if something went awry.

A moment of silence fell over the room; the calm before the storm, it seemed, because the room was suddenly plummeting down to god knows where.

You dropped to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest, screaming.

  You buried your face in your knees, barely even able to process everyone else screaming as you fell to your presumed death. Your hands were shaking uncontrollably now, and you pulled them together in an attempt reduce the amount they were trembling.

“Shit! Shit!” Dustin screeched, pressing any buttons to try to reverse what was going on.

“We’re going down! We’re going down!” Steve yelled, gripping one of the boxes to stay steady.

“Yeah, no shit, Harrington!” Robin replied, holding on to one of the shelves for dear life.

“Why don’t these buttons work?!” Dustin’s voice was shrill as he continued slamming the buttons. You squeezed your eyes shut, praying that this was some insanely vivid nightmare.

“Press the button!” Erica’s voice reminded you that it wasn’t, and you hugged your knees tighter to your chest.

“What do you think I’m doing?!”

“Come on, press something!” Just press the button!” Steve interjected, waving his arms around in desperation.

“Push it!” Erica screamed, the two kids now slamming every button they could, to no avail.

Suddenly, the room came to a halt. Everyone – except you, considering you were already on the floor – fell to the ground.

Everything felt so unreal – which was something considering what you’d been through. You knew your friends were talking, but their words went in one ear and out the other. You kept your head down, trying to control your breathing, not taking notice of the hot tears that were streaming down your face. It was the most helpless you’d ever felt – you couldn’t even control your shaking body. When you tuned back into the conversation happening around you, you heard Dustin speak.

“-we’re stuck in here.” Dustin muttered.

Great. You picked your head up, looking around the elevator for Steve. He was about a foot away, next to Robin at the buttons. While his presence calmed you slightly, you couldn’t have felt more hopeless and scared. You were trapped in a room with no places to hide - unless you could fit behind a pile of small boxes - miles away from anyone that could help you, and you had no weapons. You were like sitting ducks for whatever Russians awaited on the other side of the door. With a glance towards Dustin and Erica, your heart sank even more. They could die down here; they’re too young to be here. Why did you agree to bring Erica along? You hadn’t even noticed Robin’s gaze fixed on you. It was so hard to breathe, but no one else seemed to be having any issue with it, and why the fuck couldn’t you stop shaking?

“Just so you nerds are aware,” Erica’s voice felt distant, and you almost couldn’t hear her over the sound of your own heartbeat. “I’m supposed to be spending the night at Tina’s, and Tina always covers for me. But if I’m not home for Uncle Jack’s party tomorrow and my mom finds out you four are responsible, she’s gonna hunt you down, one by one, and slit your throat.”

Steve was practically shaking from frustration as he leaned forward on the boxes in front of him. “I don’t care about Tina-”

“Steve.” Robin’s voice was barely audible, but her eyes were trained on you, curling in on yourself.

“-Or Uncle Jack’s party!”

“Steve.” Robin tried again, worry etched in her voice.

“Your mom’s not gonna be able to find us if we’re dead in a Russian elevator!”

“Steve!” Robin’s voice made him stop. He turned to her expectantly, but she didn’t take her eyes off you. He looked down, cursing under his breath before dropping to his knees in front of you in an instant.

“Y/N?” Steve’s voice was gentle, not bothering to turn around when Dustin continued talking about a way to climb out of there. “Hey, you okay?”

You shook your head, just slightly, keeping your eyes shut tight. When another tear rolled down your cheek, Steve’s hand instinctively shot up to wipe it away before he froze, inches away from your face.

“Can I touch you?” As soon as you nodded, he used his thumb to wipe the tear off your cheek. His hand fell, gently rubbing up and down your arm. “We’re gonna be okay, y’know.”

He shifted his position, sitting as he rubbed your back as you tried to gulp down air.

“When we get outta here, we’re gonna have so much ice cream, okay?” He joked, smile widening when he saw the shadow of a grin on your face. You nodded weakly, putting your head on his shoulder. Your breathing was still shaky, but you felt yourself calming down a little. “You know I’d never let anything happen to you right? Or Dustin.”

“We shouldn’t have brought the kids.” You respond quietly, without looking at him. The room is empty besides you, and fear crawled painfully back up your throat for a moment to realize it was because everyone climbed to the top of the elevator. “What if-“ you stopped, taking a breath. “What if we don’t make it out?”

“We will. We’ve dealt with worse.”

“We had Eleven. And weapons. And Erica and Robin don’t even know about-” Steve cupped your face with his hand, making you stop.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

You nodded, not entirely believing him. He continued to rub your back, placing a kiss on your forehead. While you weren’t fully calm, you tried to let yourself relax a little bit as Steve comforted you.

With the newfound silence you were able to catch your breath, and Steve did everything in his power to distract you from the current situation.

A couple minutes had gone by before you stopped shaking. “I’m okay.” You whispered to Steve, who promptly helped you stand. “Well- okay as I’ll ever be trapped in a Russian elevator.”

Steve laughed, and you were glad to share a quiet moment with him. Little did you know, spending the night in a Russian elevator would be the best part of the next 24 hours.

[ead13]

Elder Scrolls Summer Fest Prompt: Dragons (F!Nord Dragonborn x Quintus Navale)

“I want to show you something,” she admitted, setting down the oversized knapsack on the table. It nearly collapsed the rickety wooden piece of furniture under its immense weight. Quintus couldn’t help but stare, realizing she had been hauling such a burden around Skyrim this entire time. Small wonder she was so strong…

“What in Mundus do you have in there?!” he exclaimed as he set aside the paring knife and wiped his hands. “More Dwemer loot? It looks heavy enough to be a couple of struts.”

Fjori smiled. “No, quite different. Think of something even older.”

He blinked. “Older than the Dwemer? That’s impossible, that would have to be something…Merethic. Then again, the Dwemer lived in the late Merethic era as well…”

“Did they? Well, if they did, there is no mention of them in our legends until Ysgramor arrived and drove the Snow Elves underground.”

“So before Ysgramor is what you’re telling me.” The alchemist frowned, wracking his brain. “Well, I admit, I don’t know much about Merethic history unless it involves Ayleids. What WAS happening in Skyrim before Ysgramor?”

Instead of responding, Fjori opened the knapsack and slid a massive skull onto the table, one replete with razor-sharp teeth and horns. It wasn’t difficult to imagine the gaping maw snapping off a man’s entire arm in one violent chomp. To see such an exotic sight, Quintus’s mouth gaped in shock. “Ta-da!”

“Fjori, is that a…dragon skull?!”

“That’s right.” She looked well-pleased with herself.

“Where in Oblivion did you manage to get such a thing?!”

She raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Think about it for a second, Quintus.”

He paused, then his brow furrowed in understanding. “You killed it.”

“As is the job of the Dragonborn.”

“Divines, I know it’s what you do, but…how to explain…” He paused, tapping his foot as he thought but never taking his eyes off of the skull. “It was always something abstract, I suppose. You kill dragons. I do a quick mental sketch of you lopping the head off some giant lizard. Seeing this, though…” He reached out to touch the skull, but decided against it halfway there, as if suddenly feeling it might take a finger despite being severed from the rest of the dragon. “It’s hard to imagine any human killing something this terrible.”

Fjori scratched the back of her head. “This is actually dragon number…let’s see here…eight, I believe.”

He couldn’t help it. He looked at her with something akin to awe and reverence. “It’s stupid, I know that, but seeing this puts it all in perspective for me even though I acknowledged what you do. You really are incredible, Fjori.”

“Hey now, none of that. Don’t make me regret showing you this.” Fjori was blushing as she picked up the skull. This time, it was clear just how much it weighed, because he could see the way her well-developed muscles strained. “I just figured, seeing as I’m the Dragonborn, I ought to show you a trophy. Killing them is a part of my reality after all, and you don’t really get a chance to be involved in that. When I head out for a week or two to find new shouts, I have a tendency of dispatching a dragon here and there.”

Funny, she seemed like a cat that left its human a rat on the doorstep, though on a much grander scale. As with so many things, he found this rather heavy-handed attempt at sharing to be endearing, and he felt his heart flutter. “So what will you do with it? Come to think of it, what did you do with the other seven?”

“Well, I mostly let the others that participated in battle with me keep the bones and scales as trophies. The Whiterun guard has a skull in their barracks, for example, from that first dragon we dispatched at the watchtower. Of course, Lydia also has one, a sort of badge of honor for her service. I just thought it was about time I had a trophy of my own, one just like the Jarl of Whiterun has in his keep from Olaf One-Eye’s duel with Numinex in the old tales.”

“While it would be fitting, please tell me you are NOT planning on hanging it in the bedroom?”

The very thought made the warrior burst into laughter. “Shor’s bones, no way! It would be impossible to sleep with that thing watching you all night!”

“Ah, good.” Quintus looked visibly relieved. “It is rather unsettling to look at, to be honest.”

Fjori set the skull back down. “Even more so when it still has the beady eyes, which are thankfully no longer glaring at me. It’s always such a cold look they have, as though I’m little more than an insect to them. Cruel. Filled with disdain.”

When Quintus noticed the way she shivered, he quickly moved in to wrap his arms around her. “It certainly paid the price for underestimating you, didn’t it? In fact, perhaps that arrogance hastens their downfall in general.”

“I suppose so.” She paused in thought, basking in the warmth of his embrace and letting herself relax in his arms. “Do you know the old legend about Kyne and the Voice?”

“The Voice being the way you shout words in the dragon tongue?” She nodded in affirmation. “I’m afraid all I know is that the power exists, that the Nords used it in battle long ago, and that Talos was the last one with the ability before you.”

“Mankind didn’t always have the ability to shout as the dragons do. They were dominated by the dragons, who viewed themselves as far superior beings. Humans built temples and offered sacrifices to appease the strongest of the totem animals, but they and their chosen dragon priests were cruel overlords. Finally, the people prayed to Kyne for deliverance, and the Goddess of the Storm had pity on us. She taught us how to shout as the dragons did so that we could fight back and win our freedom. An entire war was fought, with mankind emerging the victors.” In the back of her mind, she also recalled that they hadn’t actually defeated Alduin, only pushed the problem back into her era for her to deal with, but she said nothing about it. Quintus didn’t need that worry.

“That’s…wow! Why don’t more people talk about that? It seems like a very important event, on par with the overthrow of the Ayleids or the Exodus of the Chimer.”

Fjori sighed. “Without written records, people dismiss the old legends as mere stories. My own people let the memories fade, and the evidence of this era is scattered all around Skyrim! Even the bards do not sing of history that ancient, only of stories recent enough to be handed down from eyewitnesses. Now the dragons are back, and we know nothing of how our ancestors fought them or the role they used to play in our culture.”

“A cruel trick of fate, that is.”

“And worse, the only ones that do know anything about dragons are outsiders, an organization with roots in Akavir of all places! We fought an entire war against the dragons, but have no knowledge to show for it. How could we have let it all disappear?”

Quintus did not like the melancholy overtaking her features. “You should write down what you learn as you fight the dragons and defeat Alduin, or have someone transcribe your stories as you tell them. Then, there will be records for the future generations.” Assuming she survived the ordeal and the world didn’t end, rendering that a moot point. Damn, he was supposed to be cheering her up, not bringing himself down!

She didn’t give him a chance to sink too far into those pessimistic thoughts. “You really think so? I’m not much of a scholar, as you are well aware.”

“I do. You are a great storyteller. Plus…” He smirked. “You have a perfect paperweight for your documents.” Finally, feeling slightly braver, he reached out and patted the skull on the table.

Her smile reached her eyes as she hugged him tight. “Okay, I think I can do that. We fear what we do not know, so let’s weaken their grip on us with learning.”

[demig00ddess]

Sleeping Beauty

Charlie Weasley x MC

A/N: The 5th day of the HPHM April Prompt Challenge 2021 by @stupendousbookworm !

I know I'm late, but from a small sketch it turned into a completely unplanned full chapter that perfectly fit into the storyline.

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CHAPTER FIVE

AROMA OF AMORTENTIA

1989

End of the first semester.

The Potions classroom was in an unusual state of excitement. The girls whispered conspiratorially and occasionally giggled. This was due to the fact that for the third lesson in a row they studied love potions so that interest in the subject increased dramatically. Emma had even heard that the sixth-year girls who had not chosen the Potions for the NEWT were sighing and complaining in frustration. She wasn’t interested in this topic, there were many other ways to subjugate the will and mind of other people, and she didn’t want to discuss guys. Maybe another time Emma would have kept up funny conversations with her classmates, but she had been in a bad mood for a long time, so she sat alone at her desk, painting a piece of parchment.

“We’re finishing the topic of love drinks and potions.” With the appearance of Professor Snape, all conversations immediately died down. “Today we’ll turn to the most powerful and dangerous of love potions. Which one, Weasley?”

Emma had seen Charlie run into the dungeon a moment before Snape and sit on the Gryffindor side. Now he was hastily spreading his textbook and inkwell on his desk.

“Em… Amortentia, sir?” Snape nodded in displeasure.

“Amortentia is known for being the most powerful love potion in the world. It is forbidden in the magical community and its use is strictly punishable by law. Also, Amortentia is a very difficult potion to prepare and therefore is included in the list of required potions for passing the NEWT in my subject. Apparently, the Ministry thinks you’d rather learn how to brew it from a potion master than try to poison your victim yourself,” Snape curled his lips in a smirk. He waved his wand and instructions appeared on the blackboard, written in small, even handwriting. “Everything you need to know is indicated in the textbook, here are additional recommendations for brewing. I don’t expect anything worthwhile from you, but by the end of the lesson, your potion should at least show its basic properties. Who will list them?”

There was silence in the classroom, and the pages of books rustled. In Potions class, rarely did anyone dares to answer at will.

“Anderson,” Professor Snape was walking past her desk.

“The potion has a pearlescent colour, its steam rises in curls and it has a special smell,” Emma tried to remember, yesterday before going to bed she leafed through the textbook. “Amortentia smells for everyone of what they like best.”

“Five points to Slytherin, for the fact that at least someone bothered to open the book before class. The potion is complex and time is short, so today you work in pairs. You can get to work now.”

Emma cursed to herself, she could use some help. But she had sat down alone and now watched blankly as everyone split into pairs. A Gryffindor girl with a long braid, whose name Emma kept forgetting, came up to Charlie, who was also sitting alone. They started talking about something. Emma winced and turned away. Lately, she often watched Charlie from afar. If earlier the abundant attention of girls to him amused her and served as a reason for harmless teasing, now they began to annoy her.

Lost in thought, Emma set up the cauldron and began rereading the textbook, looking for instructions for the first step.

“Can I join?” Charlie sat down beside her, laying out the ingredients for the potion.

“But what about um…” she shook her head towards the girl with the braid, who was already sitting with another Gryffindor.

“Sarah?” Charlie was embarrassed. “I told her that we agreed to work together. You won’t chase me away, will you?”

He made a plaintive face, making Emma laugh.

“One more sound from your side, Anderson, and you can be free for today,” said Professor Snape.

“Let’s start,” Charlie whispered. “I’ll crush the claws, and you can cut the roots.”

They worked incredibly well together, understanding each other without words. Emma admired how he skillfully handled the knife, crumbling the ingredients.

“If you brew potions as well as you cook, then we already have an excellent mark in the bag.” Charlie chuckled at her words and poured pearl dust. Emma immediately stirred it three times, added the moonstone and put the lid on the potion.

Time passed very quickly. Snape was right, Amortentia was really hard to prepare, they couldn’t be distracted for a minute. By the end of the class, there was a cauldron of mother-of-pearl shining liquid in front of them, exuding a pleasant aroma.

“The colour is right, the steam rises in curls,” Charlie said, checking his textbook. “It remains to check the smell. Smell it. Do you feel anything? You have to distinguish between several smells that you like.”

Emma poked her nose into the cauldron, in which Amortentia was slowly bubbling. It smelled of freshly brewed coffee with hints of spice and tanned leather at the same time. She felt herself breathing very slowly, letting the heady scents fill her lungs. Emma tried to smell something else, but it was all drowned out by the familiar herby cinnamon-tinged scent of Charlie, who was bending down next to her.

“Coffee and leather,” she replied, forcing herself to move away from the cauldron.

“That’s all?”

“What do you mean 'that’s all' ?” Emma asked a little sharply. Charlie shrugged and glanced at the textbook.

“People usually can smell several things. About three or four. Maybe you didn’t scent it enough? Try once more.”

“I told you I smell. Maybe the potion is wrong?”

“No, it’s something with you,” Charlie said stubbornly. “The potion is correct, as described. We made it together. Take a good sniff.”

“I’m not even going to! If you want to, check it yourself.”

“I can’t,” Charlie was confused.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with you today? Do you even care what we’re doing?”

“So maybe you should have work with Sarah back then. Or better with Penny! Then everything would have worked out for sure,” snapped Emma, ​​resentment seized inside her, making her want to cry or hit someone. It was not her fault that she could only smell a couple of smells. Or was it? Maybe she didn’t smell what she liked because she didn’t love anyone? Maybe it meant that she was generally incapable of loving someone since even the most powerful love potion did not work with her to the end?

“What does Penny have to do with it? You’re acting weird!” Charlie was indignant.

“Says the one who is interested in dragons more than people. I’ve always been weird. Or did you mean mad?” Emma blurted out the last sentence too loudly.

“I warned you, Anderson,” came Snape’s cold voice.

“I’m done now, Professor,” she said through clenched teeth. “This stupid potion doesn’t work anyway.

“Crazy girl,” Charlie muttered.

She filled a bottle of potion, signed it, and set it on Snape’s desk before storming out of the classroom.

~~~~~~~~~

Emma was sitting in her room and cleaning her bag and textbooks by magic. In the Potions class, she shoved the inkwell into the bag with such force that it shattered and poured emerald ink all over the contents of the bag. She was angry with herself and her outburst of gratuitous wrath. Over the past couple of months, she and Charlie have grown quite distant from each other. He didn't invite her for Christmas, although he and Bill had always invited her to the Burrow a month before the holidays. They stopped chatting and talking to each other about everything, and it depressed her. And then also this stupid fight.

Emma got to her feet, she didn’t want to go straight to Charlie, but there was another person she had been avoiding lately. She needed to talk to Penny.

Penny was sitting in the library, surrounded by books about the magical properties of West Wells herbs. She was so engrossed in her research, biting the tip of her quill, that she didn't notice Emma landing on the bench next to her.

“Emma?” Penny didn’t even try to hide her surprise; they practically didn’t communicate for a couple of months.

Emma hugged Penny and sighed heavily. She had to deal with everything she said and everything she thought.

“Hey, what happened, dear?” Penny stroked her back affectionately. Emma felt even nastier at heart. After avoiding Penny for a long time, her friend was still worried about her.

“Penny, I’m sorry,” Emma hid her face in an embrace.

“Emma, what’s wrong?”

“I… I’m just a terrible friend and a terrible person,” Penny looked at her in surprise but didn’t interrupt. “I really didn’t mean to avoid or hurt you. And I was being selfish with you. I’ll understand if you don’t want to talk to me anymore. But you’re my best friend, and Charlie’s my best friend. And all I want right now is for you to be happy together.” Emma was blinking frequently, not letting her tears come out.

“First of all, I’m not offended at all that you’ve been avoiding me. Sometimes we need to take a break from communication, I understand everything. And secondly, me and Charlie together?” Penny asked, startled by the tirade.

“You are a lovely couple,” Emma smiled, wiping her reddened eyes with her sleeve.

“But,” Penny giggled awkwardly. “We’re not a couple, Emma.”

“What?”

“I don’t like Charlie in this way, and indeed,” Penny threw a laughing glance at her friend. “He doesn’t like me either."

“But…” Emma felt a pleasant warmth spread over her chest, she felt a little easier and wanted to smile. “But you are constantly together. And Charlie said that you became very close. And… So you’re not a couple?”

Penny grinned and scratched her nose with the tip of her quill.

“Is that what Charlie said? Oh, he should be better at choosing his words. We really got close, but it was because of you.” Emma looked up at her in surprise. “After Rowan passed away, you were emm… in a terrible state. Avoided everyone, refused to talk, didn’t sleep or eat, and tormented yourself. I couldn’t bear it, and Charlie, generally went crazy, seeing you like this. Anyway, we tried to come up with something that would cheer you up, bring back our usual Emma. But you didn’t want to talk to Charlie, and was running away from me — ”

Emma interrupted Penny with an impetuous hug. She gasped with such pressure but responded to the hug. They sat for a long time, in silence, under the displeased glances of Madame Pince. Finally, Emma pulled away.

“And what about you two became close?”

“We didn’t really talk to him before, except when you were around. Not all your friends are friends with each other. And now we’re hanging out because he asked me to pull him up on potions.”

“Now I feel like an even more terrible person,” Emma sighed heavily and looked away. Penny smiled affectionately and tucked in a strand of hair that had strayed from Emma’s hair.

“Good people make as many mistakes as bad people. The difference is that they find a way to fix them. And since you came to talk to your best friend, then you are definitely not a bad person. You and Charlie had a fight, aren’t you?

Emma groaned (Madame Pince shushed her indignantly) and buried her nose in her friend’s shoulder, now their quarrel and her resentment looked even more stupid.

“We were brewing Amortentia on Potions.” Penny’s eyes widened excitedly. “And Charlie said I can’t smell only two smells.

“Usually people can smell at least three,” said Penny. She took thought and chuckled cheerfully. “Was Charlie around?”

“Yeah, he climbed into the cauldron with his instructions. You know, he smells like a little bit of grass and cinnamon, so he interrupted the whole smell of the potion!”

Penny giggled, unable to stop. Madame Pince shushed at them again and headed towards them.

“What?” Emma frowned uncomprehendingly, looking at her laughing friend.

“I just wonder what Amortenia smelled like for him.”

“I don’t know, we had a fight and I left,” she bit her lip. “I need to find him and apologize. What a fool I was!”

“Get out of the library if you don’t know how to behave properly!’ Madame Pince hissed at them. Emma apologized in a whisper, hugged Penny goodbye, and went in search of Charlie.

~~~~~~~~~

It took her a long time to find Charlie. He was flying alone over an empty Quidditch field. Emma waved her hand, attracting his attention, and, waiting for him to come down, ran to hug him. But something stopped her and she froze right in front of Charlie, gazing into the snow-covered field.

“Is everything all right?” there was concern in Charlie’s voice, but his tone remained cold.

“I wanted to apologize. I was out of sorts and lashed out at you, even though it wasn’t your fault. I couldn’t have done the potion without you. And anyway…” Emma wanted to say, ‘Anyway, I couldn’t have done it at all without you’, but the words stuck in her throat. She felt herself blushing, her face seemed to burn so that the snowflakes melted before they reached her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“Apologies accepted,” Charlie replied dryly. Emma winced, it would be better if he yelled at her. But he lowered the broom and sat down directly on the snow. Emma without thinking twice sat down opposite. “I never thought you are mad.”

“I know,” Emma nodded, crushing the bitterly cold snow in her hand. “I like your fascination with dragons.”

“It seems only you,” Charlie grinned, Emma also smiled slightly.

“Maybe Hagrid, too,” Charlie laughed at her comment.

“Well, I’ll have to talk to someone about dragons when Hagrid’s busy. And you’re the only candidate.

“Best friends, then?” Emma asked timidly, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Of course best friends! Never stopped being them, snowflake!” Emma laughed, she always liked that nickname. Charlie frowned, noticing that she again walked in the cold without gloves. He took off his huge warm mittens and put them on her. “You’ll freeze your hands off someday!”

“Nah,” Emma smiled again. For the first time in a long time, she felt so light and good that she wanted to laugh and sing. Charlie was smiling too, noticing her good mood.

“Oh, I completely forgot to ask. Are you free for Christmas? I wanted to call you to us,” he offered embarrassedly. Emma shook herself off the snow.

“Mom will still be in America, so I’d love to! I can’t miss your mom’s Christmas pie!” They both laughed, dispelling the last drops of tension between them.

The two of them wandered through the snow for a long time, until they were chilled and hungry, and Emma felt that her feet were completely wet. Having rolled down the last time from a large ice slide, they went to bask.

“Have you smelled our Amortentia?” Emma asked as they reached the castle.

“Yeah, we did a good job. I checked, although I already knew what it would smell like.”

“What it was?” she asked, not hiding her curiosity.

“An extinct fire, a forest, a pumpkin pie, and,” Charlie paused a little, smiled at her and blew a snowflake from her eyelashes. “A frosty winter morning.”

“You certainly have taste,” Emma laughed.

“That’s for sure,” Charlie smiled again, not taking his eyes off her.

With these words, they entered the castle.

[multi-fandom-inserts]

My Salvation.

Peeta Mellark x Reader

Warnings; PTSD? Smut. Family/Friend Death.

I did change some facts in this just so it all could fit together, I love the Hunger Games so send more imagines if you want them!!

________________________________________________________________

The early morning sea was calm and peaceful, the gentle air carries the warm water plastering your face and dampening your hair, the golden sun peaked over the horizon, erupting a series of beautiful colours across the dim sky. Out on the sea is the only place you can breath easily, the song birds cleared your mind, the sea creatures beneath the surface swam freely helping to keep the demons at bay, for a while that is, the calm before the storm is something you'd grown accustom too and it's unsettling; and it isn't long until you hear the screams and then, the cannons.

The weighted switch blade in your palm rocks back-and-forth, glistening of the metal reflects in the sunlight as it moves. A few years ago the sight of a knife like this would of reminded you simply of your job on District 4's fishing boats, but now it carries an entirely new reality, the blood that coated your skin had absorbed deep and something you cannot wash off no matter how hard you scrubbed.

Engraved into the blade of the knife are the words, “Remember who the real enemy is.”

Those words echoed in your mind a lot, always in the silk voice of Finnick Odair. You remembered the first time those words were whispered to you. He was stood in front of you, hands grasping your shoulders as you both stood in the seal, bare room across from the glass tube, awaiting the orders for you to step inside. He then hugged you tightly, kissed your forehead – the small space between your eyebrows – and then, smiled sadly. But, the second time was different, he didn't whisper it to you, he said it loud, clear and full of fury whilst stood in the Tributes Centre... well, it was called the Victors Centre this time, the night before the Quarter Quell, he slipped the knife into your pocket and told you to hide it wherever you could in your clothing before facing the arena for a second time.

Dropping the knife to your feet, tears swelled in your eyes as flashbacks of Finnick pierced through your brain, he had raised you in many aspects, he cared for you, mentored you and protected you. The day he died – well was murdered – haunts your dreams and terrorizes you everyday.

After the fall of he Capitol government, the districts opened to everyone, allowing travel between the areas and allowing people to move between, find new jobs and create new lives. Families no longer lived in terror and everyone began to live again. The less fortunate districts such as Twelve began to rebuild and flourish, those that had hidden in the rubble of Thirteen were able to walk around in the sunlight again. Everyone just came alive again.

Many victors such as yourself remained in their home districts, change was something non of us really wanted to face, well, all expect one, Peeta Mellark was someone you'd never expected to meet in the hailstorm that erupted, but you're glad you did. The District 12 victory unknowingly became your anchor, you had spent a lot of time together in District 13, primarily due to the torture chambers in the Capitol and the infirmary in Thirteen were you'd both been held.

In the process of losing those you'd loved – Katniss being Peeta's person – you found each other.

Soppy stuff, right?

Not wishing to dwell on the past, you pushed yourself to your feet to pull the engine starter cord before heading for land. Once docked, you collected the knife and walked back to your house. The Mayor of the Districts insisted that previous Victors kept their houses in Victors Village.

Pushing the door to your home open, you threw the switch blade onto the kitchen counter and signed heavily, dragging your hand across your face in an attempt to pull the vicious and violent memories from your head. Peeta watched you from the doorway to the kitchen, he watched as your small hands grasped the kitchen surface so hard your knuckles became white, your shoulders were tense but your breathing was heavily, but even.

It wasn't long before he heard a sob echo from your body, throughout the years Peeta had watched you fight your demons, he'd watched you fight for your life, kill and murder innocent kids and even attack those in the Quarter Quill, but  you were different than the others he'd met, you attempted to keep your humanity, many victors just threw it away once they'd won. But you, it wasn't that you didn't feel guilty about what you did but you knew you were forced.

Kill or be killed.

Peeta was the only other than knew that, despite not killing in his Hunger Games, he knew the mentality. He honoured it, thought and pondered about it whilst watching you. Today was different, your episodes usually extended to a max of fifteen minutes in the house – yes he had timed you – but as he noticed the date on the calender, he knew.

It's Finnick's birthday.

“Hey.” Peeta spoke aloud, but you didn't jump.

You turn, wiping the tears from your eyes, “Hey, been standing there long?” you ask innocently, you knew he had been.

“Why don't we go see Annie?” Peeta asks, “I'm sure she'd love to see you.”

you shake your head, “I will, not now, I can't let her see me like this, It'll – ”

“Only make her worse, I know.” Peeta said, walking towards you and standing in front of you, “Why don't I help distract you?” Peeta smirked before grabbing you by the back of the legs and lifting you with ease onto the kitchen counter, parting your legs at the knees giving him enough space to slip between them, hands on your hips as his thumbs gently rubbed circles into your hipbones, “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” he whispers, leaning in, gently brushing his nose against yours before kissing you feverishly.

The pair of you break apart for air, both breathing heavily as your hands rest on his shoulders, his still on your hips, “I mean, feel free to tell me more, but I'm sure you can just show me,” you tease, pulling him back in by the back of his neck, smashing your lips together, your mouth moulding against his as your fingers play with the bottom of Peeta's shirt and pulling it over his head.

Peeta laughed as he snatched the middle of your button up shirt and ripping it open before he pulled the sides of your jeans, “Lets get these off!” Peeta almost snarled in annoyance at the lack of resistance from your jeans, laughing, you lift your hips allowing him to pull them off before you play with the buttons of his trousers and push them down his legs.

Peeta moves from kissing your lips to trail them down the side of your face, along your jaw and to your neck where he nipped, sucked and kissed at the tender flesh leaving marks up and down the side of your neck. Licking your hand, you remove the last piece of fabric between you and his cock, taking it firmly in your hand causing Peeta to hiss as you twist your hand up and down his impressive length, feeling him harden beneath your touch made him moan.

“Fuck, Y/N.” he moans as you continue to play with him, rubbing your thumb over the top of his head causing him to shiver. His moans were music to your ears, his small shallow moans and heavily breathing. “Don't tease me.” he hisses, wrapping his arm round your middle and pulling your thong roughly down your legs.

As the cold air reaches your wet pussy made you shiver, Peeta swiped his fingers up your slit gathering your wetness, bringing his fingers to his lips and tasting you, moaning in pleasure, “So sweet baby.” he whispered before rubbing your wetness round his lips before kissing you roughly, tasting yourself on his lips was always something you'd found hot.

Peeta inserted two fingers into you causing a moan to echo through your body as he curled the digits inside you, grazing your G-sport as his thumb rubbed your clit, the pleasure made you lean back on the kitchen counter. “Please,” you begged grabbing his arms as your stomach tightens, “Fuck!” you moaned as you cummed, tightening round his fingers as you come undone.

Your partner gives you a minute before he rubbed the head of his cock against your pulsing clit, “You ready for me?” he teases, letting out a single laugh, you wrap your legs around his hips and dug your heels into his lower back, pushing until he was completely inside you, causing a moan to exit from both of you.

“Fffffffuck, you feel so good.” Peeta groaned, he gave you a minute to adjust to his size before pulling out and ramming back into you, not giving you a second after that to recover, the pair of your let out cries of pleasure as he continues to thrust into you, hitting your sweet spot again and again.

You gasp loudly as Peeta's thumb finds your clit, rubbing harsh circles over the bundle of nerves, causing you to start begging again, “Peeta!” you moaned as your breath hitched whilst clamping your eyes shut as orgasm struck, tightening around Peeta, his sharp intake of air shows he wasn't far behind you as he rested his forehead on your shoulder before cumming, spilling his seed into you as you both ride out your orgasms.

Heavily breathing is the only thing that can be heard throughout the house for a few minutes, the cold air grasped your skin as goosebumps erupted over the pair of you, he kisses you gently before resting his forehead against yours, Peeta smiled warmly at you as he pulled rubbed his thumb across your cheek tenderly.

“Marry me?” he suddenly blurted.

You leaned back, knocking your head against the kitchen cabinet, “What?”

Opening the coffee pot before you, he pulled out a ring box and opened it, revealing a beautiful silver ring, jewels decorated the sides leading up to a small blue diamond, nothing big or flashy – it was perfect.

“Will you, Y/N Y/L/N, do me the honour of becoming the most perfect, headstrong, badass wife a man can ask for?” he asked, forehead still resting on yours.

A few minutes past before you found the words you needed. “As long as you, Peeta Mellark, will promise to be the hottest, smartest and most caring husband?” you ask, a small smile settled on your plump lips.

Peeta laughed at your response, “I already am those things... just not husband... yet.” he winked.

“Then yes,” you reply, watching as Peeta's eyes glowed and his smile grew wider, “I'll marry you.”

He clasped your face and kissed you passionately.

Peeta Mellark was your anchor, your partner and now, soon to be, your husband. And the only thing you could think of in that moment, a piece of peace you've always been waiting for, there is life after the Hunger Games.

Peeta Mellark was your salvation.

[pagingevilspawn]

The Way I Loved You

hey there! i wrote this on Friday, but i heard the song “The Way I Loved You” for the first time on Thursday and immediately thought of jolex. When i listen to this song the on Friday after the whole jo and jackson thing i knew that i HAD to use this song. idk if anyone has used this song already, but i hope not lol. this is pretty short but i wrote it really quickly lol. and i just realized that @odd-birds-and-booksellers has a similar thing with a photograph in one of her stories, so i’m sorry about that, it was an accident.  

on a side note... happy bday to me hehe. i wanted to post a fluffy one-shot, but i’m too lazy to finish writing it. 

~*~

He is sensible and so incredible

And all my single friends are jealous

He says everything I need to hear and it's like

I couldn't ask for anything better

In everybody's eyes, Jackson Avery seemed like the perfect guy, especially for her. He was funny, smart, caring, and handsome as hell. He was pretty perfect, there was no way she could deny that. He told her she was beautiful, how brilliant she was, and he held her and whispered sweet nothings in her ear in the morning while the sun cast gentle glows on them through the window. 

 He always somehow knew the right thing to say, but it wasn’t always what she wanted to hear. Sometimes she didn’t want to hear she was amazing and she had no reason to be worried. Sometimes she just wanted to hear ‘shut up, get over it’ followed by an I love you and a quick peck on the lips.

 He was every girl’s dream; he just wasn’t hers. No matter how much she liked him or wished he was, he wasn’t. 

 He opens up my door and I get into his car

And he says, you look beautiful tonight

And I feel perfectly fine   

 He was such a gentleman. He complimented her, showed her off proudly to his richy-rich family, but not like a prize. He was proud to call her his girlfriend. He drank in the sight of her in tight dresses and boring scrubs like she was the last glass of water on a scalding hot day. 

He never makes her feel second best. 

He was falling, but she was still on ground, content with how she was. She wasn’t soaring in the clouds like she had been once before. She was at peace with standing on the concrete streets below her feet. 

But I miss screamin' and fightin'

And kissin' in the rain

And it's two a.m. and I'm cursin' your name

You're so in love that you act insane

And that's the way I loved you 

 She misses the rush. The rush of fighting. The rush of getting so mad at someone that you wanted to just punch them, but kiss them all at the same time. 

She misses him getting agitated over stupid things. She misses seeing the lust in his eyes when he was mad at her. She misses the angry sex. She misses feeling the thousands of emotions flowing through her body when they kissed, even if it was just a simple brush of the lips. 

She misses him acting crazy over a cut she got on her knee when she tripped, or when she complained about accidentally slicing her finger when she attempted to use a knife. He always hated to see her hurt. 

 How ironic, considering he was the one who hurt her the most.  

 Breakin' down and comin' undone

It's a roller-coaster kinda rush

And I never knew I could feel that much

And that's the way I loved you 

 She misses how they could just yell at each other. For hours, days. They could yell at each other about their crappy surgeries or patients that deserved better than the cards they were dealt. They could take out their anger on each other, trusting that it wouldn’t affect them. And it didn’t. 

She misses the way he looked at her like she was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, unable to grasp that fact that she was his. She misses that crooked smile that seemed to brighten her day, no matter how bad it previously was. 

She misses how she could go from wanting to yell at him to holding him in a matter of seconds. She misses feeling like she had no control over herself whenever she was around him. 

She misses him and the way he made her feel. 

 He respects my space and never makes me wait

And he calls exactly when he says he will

He's close to my mother

Talks business with my father

He's charming and endearing, and I'm comfortable 

 When she asks for time alone, he doesn’t push her. When she is feeling down, on the brink of another episode, he lets her lay in bed and doesn’t bother her. And if she wanted him to get pizza in the middle of the night, he’s ordering it before she even needs to ask twice. 

He never left her on read or ignored her voicemails. She never needed to call or text him twice for an answer about their upcoming date. 

She liked being with him. She felt safe, knowing that he wouldn’t hurt her. She liked knowing that somebody loved her, even if she was currently only capable of saying she liked him a great deal. 

 But I miss screamin' and fightin'

And kissin' in the rain

And it's two a.m. and I'm cursin' your name

You're so in love that you act insane

And that's the way I loved you 

 She misses how in the middle of arguments he would pull her into a searing kiss, pouring all of his emotion into it. She could feel them best then, his emotions. She could tell by the way his kisses were needy and frantic as he pressed his lips to her neck, sometimes biting just a little too hard on her sweet spot, a bit of both pleasure and pain. 

She misses seeing the look on his face when he would catch guys at the bar staring at her, trying to deny that he was jealous.

She even misses how insane he acted sometimes, whether it be making animal noises at couples going at it, or how he beat up DeLuca when he thought the man was taking advantage of her.

She misses being able to look at him and everything seemed alright, that even though people were dying and the world was heating up, as long as she had him, she felt okay.

 Breakin' down and comin' undone

It's a roller-coaster kinda rush

And I never knew I could feel that much

And that's the way I loved you  

 Jackson doesn’t like to argue much. He doesn’t really yell. He’s good at expressing his emotions and talking about them. He doesn’t bury them like her, but at times she wishes that he did. 

She wishes he knew what it was like to have all these feelings build up inside until they break, shattering everything you worked towards. 

But he makes it better. He helped her talk and now it’s easier. She doesn't feel the need to combust with anger. 

 Sometimes, but not all the time. 

He can't see the smile I'm fakin'

And my heart's not breakin'

'Cause I'm not feelin' anything at all

 When she’s at Meredith’s she is happy. It had been a while since he had left, more than a year actually. And she was getting to be fully okay. She still smiled, but it wasn’t the full-blown grin that could once light up an entire room. She’s back to laughing more now, but it’s not the same one that would come out when he said something stupid and she was belly-laughing as tears streamed down her face. But she could easily say that she was okay. She was doing well. She was happy.  

It was when she wandered into the hallway and started randomly opening drawers, looking for a pen to write down an idea she had that she came across a photo Meredith has shoved in her drawers. It was of him. His son was on his left knee, while Izzie sat next to him, their daughter on her right knee. They were smiling, his looking awkward because he tried to smile straight and not crooked, but he was smiling nonetheless. It looks to be a selfie of some sort, the woman holding the camera flashing a dazzling smile. 

They look so happy. She's glad that he’s happy, but she’s jealous. She hadn’t smiled that wide in a long time. 

When she heads back down the stairs she plasters on a smile, knowing that nobody would be able to see through it. She didn’t really feel anything, all she really felt was numb.  

It’s selfish, but she wishes she was the one in the photo instead of the blonde.

 And you were wild and crazy

Just so frustrating, intoxicating, complicated

Got away by some mistake and now

 He drove her crazy. She wanted to smack him upside every second of the day. He made her mad and he hurt her, but at the same time she was only able to see him as perfect. He was so screwed up, but it fit so perfectly alongside her. His crazy fit her crazy. 

He always drove her mad. But she could never get enough of him. She could never get enough of the feeling of his skin on hers, the taste of his lips, the smell of his clothes, she never got tired of hearing his voice and the sound of his laugh. It was like she was constantly high on him. 

If only he had talked to her, maybe things wouldn’t be this way. 

 I'll be screamin' and fightin'

And kissin' in the rain

It's two a.m. and I'm cursin' your name

I'm so in love that I acted insane

And that's the way I loved you  

 She wants to fight with him one more time. It’s been a long time since he left. Over two years. And she’s loved again. The perfect man loves her, and she can truthfully and whole-heartedly say that she loves him. He took her broken heart and pieced it back together. But the wounds were still there.  

But she wants to fight with him again. She wants one more chance to call him a stupid moron. She wants to be arguing with him late into the night about who’s a better character on that latest TV show they were binging. 

She wants to shove him like she did before the storm, finding some way to exert her anger. 

She wants him to pull her into a supply closet while the rain pounds on the window as he tells her that he loves her, kissing her with a passion she had never experienced before.

 Breakin' down and comin' undone

It's a roller-coaster kinda rush

And I never knew I could feel that much

And that's the way I loved you  

 She remembers what it was like to love him so much it was like she couldn’t breathe. That he was the oxygen she desperately needed to survive. She remembers what it was like, the fear, the longing, the need. It was all there. 

She never knew then how much this man would affect her. 

She never knew that feeling all of those things was possible.

 And that's the way I loved you oh, oh

I never knew I could feel that much

And that's the way I loved you  

 Jackson Avery was perfect, and she loved Jackson Avery. 

But he wasn’t perfect for her. 

Because the only person perfect for Jo Wilson was Alex Karev. 

It was a shame, the life they could’ve lived if only he had answered her calls.