#here you can see him in his peak moments of happiness before something horrible happens years in the future

[promiscuouspomegranate]

If you're not busy can I request a yandere shane from stardew I really don't see that much of him😸

Midnight Martini

“A little oneshot with some rambles toward the end.”

Oneshot TWs: Drinking, Existential Thoughts, Shane is Depressed, You got Drugged lol, implied abduction.

Ramble TWs: Alcoholism, Depressive Thoughts, and Yandere Behaviors

(You’re the second person to request something.. so I simply have to entertain the anon. I hope you like it.. I was sleepy writing this 😪)

º

“Do you ever drink, Y / N or do you constantly keep up the happy farmer charade? I’m genuinely intrigued by your little persona,” Shane smirked and elbowed me, “What happens at this lake stays between us.”

I nervously gripped the martini I ordered earlier and quickly chugged it. It was dry and bitter and overpowered my mouth with gin. I covered it and felt a burn in my throat. Shane, instead of getting a water bottle for me, laughed as if comedy peaked at this very moment.

“You seriously have never drunk before? Fuck, I didn’t know I’d encounter someone like this ever,” He took a swig of his bottled beer and wiped his mouth, “It’s kinda sweet.”

“Shut up,” I nudged him and groaned, “I was always the damn designated driver at work events and high school parties fucking sucked.”

“Oh, you can curse too? It seems my world is coming to an end,” He chuckled and set his bottle down, “I get it, though. I didn’t start until.. well, until some time ago.”

“I don’t get how you enjoy this shit,” I glanced over and realized what I said, “No offense, of course!”

There was a moment of silence between us, and the moonlight rippled through the iridescent lake water. I moved in a little closer and grabbed an unopened bottle of cold beer. I used the dock to pop the cap off and took a sip.

“I don’t even like to drink, honestly,” He sighed, “I only like the feeling of being drunk. It’s the only way I feel happy, y’know? So much shit happened, and life continued. I wasn’t fucking ready to man up, so I drove to the closest gas station in ZuZu city and came him with a six-pack. I woke up the next morning with a throbbing pain in my head and vomit in a bucket, but not a single memory about the shit that happened to me. It’s.. it’s become a ruthless cycle.”

I took another sip and Shane grabbed his bottle. He gazed at my face and rubbed his stubble.

“Do you ever think this is it? All we have in life is a cycle of horrible feelings and emotions until we die? Yoba, I hope it’s not,” His voice sounded raw with emotion as he spoke, “I just wanna get better.”

“For what it’s worth,” I paused and thought about what to say. I set my bottle down and grabbed Shane’s hand, “You’re not alone, Shane. I don’t know what happened, and I would never expect you to tell me. I know what despair feels like, and you can’t help but think it all fucking sucks. That’s because it does. Everything is horrible, but.. but we have these ever so brief moments that make life worth living.”

He was silent and I decided to continue.

“When I first came here, I was depressed. I lost the only family member that genuinely cared about me and had no fucking money, friends, or food,” I laughed and looked at him, “Shane, I remember approaching you, and you told me to fuck off. I went home and started sobbing because I felt like shit. I could’ve wallowed in my misery, but then.. I wouldn’t be here with you.”

Reality seemed to blur with desire and I selfishly leaned in closer. I brushed my hand across his face and his eyes glowed in the darkness of the valley. He felt warm and my mind felt fuzzy.

“I want to be here with you,” I murmured.

“Fuck you,” He whispered back, “Fuck you for being so.. you. Damn it, you’re not supposed to be a flirty drunk. I’m supposed to be making a move on you.”

Our noses touched and I felt my heart racing with intoxication and want. I wanted this kiss to happen and I wanted it to be with Shane. I quickly pressed my lips against his and pulled his head closer to mine. He reciprocated my feelings and wrapped his arms around my body. After a moment, he pulled away.

“That was a long time coming,” I slurred my words and grabbed his face, “I want more Shane. ‘S not fair to kiss me then pull away so quickly.”

“Oh, I know sweetheart,” He calmly replied and kissed my forehead. He stood up and put our bottles back in the cooler, “I’m just concerned about how you feel right now.”

“I’m fine,” I stupidly smiled and bounced up. My head was pounding, and the ground felt like it was swirling, “Just.. just sleepy.”

“That’s good to hear; you’ll be out any second now. It’s past your bedtime, isn’t it,” He pulled me into his arms and muttered, “Just go to sleep. It’ll all be better in the morning. We’ll be together.”

.

That whole scene would take A LOT of gifts and bonding to happen. I’m sensing a major inferiority complex and, “Oh, if I talk to them, they’re just going to think I’m some stupid drunk who can’t take care of himself.”

I think something terrible happened in his life that spiraled into his alcoholic depression. His parents refused to accept him after discovering that he had nowhere else to go but Marnie’s ranch. He’s stuck in the past and refuses to move on from what happened. He feels horrible and desperately needs to feel something other than self-hate and sorrow.

When you first approach him, he’s too absorbed by his grief to realize that YOU WANT TO BE THERE FOR HIM (like.. you don’t bite.) He tries to close off any form of interaction and conversation. Why would he deserve to talk to someone when he’s terrible? He’s too afraid of his flaws to let anyone close.

Yet, you insist on hanging around like some incurable parasite. Shane feels startled when he finally realizes you want to be with him. Here’s this kind farmer who thinks that HE is worth something. He hasn’t felt proper affection in so long that his feelings spiral immediately. He finally has someone that makes him feel like he has self-worth and that he’s important.

He starts drinking less and talking to you more. As he sobers up more, his feelings are less intense but still linger. He wants you to himself and hates the thought of you falling for another bachelor. So, what better way than to take you late at night? Not like he could just ask you out himself.

Give this man counseling and a hug ⁉️⁉️⁉️

[rommahh]

{this show was off the walls. He looked so good. And the energy was just??}

You stood uncomfortably at your flights gate with Harry. After being with Harry for five shows, your anxiety had reached a peak leaving you to be faced with one of your worst panic attacks before the St. Louis show. Harry didn’t want you to feel so much mental pressure so he suggested that you go home, he even bought you a ticket without consulting with you.

Your shoulders were tense as you stood rigid next to Harry. You were beyond upset and sad. You felt like a burden who being sent away to make everyone else feel better.

“Love, it will be ok. I’ll see you in two weeks for the Nashville show.” Harry comments watching your face scrunch up withholding the tears. “I just want you to see your therapist for a few days.”

“I don’t wanna go. It was one panic attack. Ive done fine every other night and on the bus.” You huff not making eye contact with Harry. “You’re just sending me away.”

Harry feels his heart break in two. “That’s not-“

“We are now welcoming our first class passengers.” He was cut off by the attendant. You grab your duffle on the ground, opening your phone to the electronic ticket. You moved to get in the line but Harry was quick to grab your arm to stop you. You couldn’t stop the tears from welling in your eyes at the look of hurt on his face.

“You’re not even gonna say goodbye?” He whispers.

“Why should I? You said it for me when you purchased the ticket without even talking to me about it. I’ll call you when I land, I love you and goodbye.” You snatched your arm away, rushing to the slowly growing line of passengers.

Harry watched in defeat as you trudged onto the bridge that boarded onto the plane. You felt those traitorous tears push past the surface, your feet feeling like they were dragging behind you- wanting you to go back to your heart.

The entire flight home was painful. All hours spent on the flight looking lifelessly out of the window. Harry put you in first class but none of the comfortable perks could make you happy.

It was weird to walk back into your home with no one there walking in with you or even waiting for you. The house was dark and quiet and you felt scared to even be in the stupid beach side mansion all alone. Times like this made you regret moving in with Harry. This house only felt like home when he was there, any other time felt like your own personal solitary confinement.

Hey lovie, hope you’re flight went well. Having groceries delivered to the house for you. I love you and miss you. Xxx H.

You scoffed. That anger from before bubbling within you. He misses you? You left him on read, the pettiness easing the anger.

Harry’s eyebrows shot up at the small read notification under his sent message. He waited a few moments thinking maybe you just forgot to press send. Minutes turned to hours and hours turned into the next day.

You sat at the dining room table watching the waves eat up the sand and pull granules away at a time. Your laptop sat in front of you after you finished a telehealth therapy appointment. A ring sounded from the laptop signaling that someone was FaceTiming you.

Harry’s icon popped up in the corner of the screen. You hesitated before answering. You couldn’t bare to look at yourself in the camera knowing you looked a mess. Your eyes swollen from the sobbing during therapy. Harry thought you looked beautiful nonetheless.

“Good morning baby.” He broke the silence.

“Hi.” Was all you could muster. This wasn’t the two of you. You both would normally fill a space with sound and giggles and now it was just silence.

“How did you sleep?” He asks. He looked as disheveled as you. Hair messy, face red and puffy.

“Fine.” You didn’t look at him, playing with the frayed edges of your Live on Tour hoodie. Harry huffed in frustration.

“Is this how it will be from now on?” He snapped. Your head snapped up out of shock.

“You’re getting at me like somethings my fault!” You snapped back.

“Well, we didn’t leave on the right foot.”

“You sent me away!” You retaliate.

“No, I did not. You had a panic attack before I went on stage. I had to come on stage late because I was consoling you.”

You flinched at his comment and tone of voice.

“So it’s my fault? I can’t control the panic attacks. It wasn’t like I conjured one up for attention.” His lack of response broke you. “Really?”

“No, I don’t think you did it for attention but it’s a lot Y/N. I want to take you on tour with me but it’s a lot for me and you know it’s a lot for you.” He tries. His words hurt though. You’ve felt like a burden your entire life and to feel that way because of the love of your life hurts even more.

“Ok. Um, I have to go.” You choke out. Harry shakes his head, the weight of his words catching up with you.

“I didn’t mean it in that way. I love you and I only want to protect you.”

“Yeah, protect me by sending me away when things get tough. I’m sorry for being a burden Harry.” You hang up before he could get the last word in.

Harry sat on his hotel bed shocked. He doesn’t know how things escalated the way they did. He made her feel like a burden. His body racks with sobs as he thinks of how his love must be feeling.

The day of Harry’s Philly show you felt uneasy. You didn’t like not being with Harry. You got so used to your preshow rituals with him. It hurt to be left out after being so involved.

Harry felt the same way. His regret evident in the way that he couldn’t stop blowing up your phone with short apologies and messages. He woke up alone in the hotel room on the day of a show feeling like utter crap.

His stomach was in knots and his heart couldn’t stop pounding. Normally before a show you both would share a light meal and have small discussions about nothing. You both would take silly selfies together or watch tiktoks. But now it was just Harry.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, impulsively clicking your contact to face time.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up…” He mutters. He lets out a sigh of relief when your face reveals.

“Hi, Harry.” You murmur, your face squished into a pillow, his pillow because it smells good.

“Hi-hi baby.” He stutters fidgeting in his seat.

“What do you need?”

“I need you. You’re not a burden. I want you here, not there but here. I have a show in a few hours and all I can think about is how you’re not here with me.” He cries. You sit up in the bed, tearing up watching your boyfriend cry. His shoulders shook with the sobs that wracked through his chest.

“Harry, please breathe. Your gonna hurt yourself.” You try to calm him down but can tell it’s not working.

“Come back.” He whimpers.

“I-I think I’m going to stay home until Nashville. We both need a breather from each other and I know I need to see my psychiatrist and probably get some new anxiety medication. Which will take the two weeks to kick in you know?” You reason. Harry wiped his face of tears nodding understandingly.

“Ok. I miss you though. I fucked up horribly by making you feel less than. I know you’re not a burden and I’d do anything for you. The stress of tour is starting to weigh on me and I took it out in you when I shouldnt have. I also thought I was keeping you safe by sending you home, but I shouldn’t have done that. Because we are a team, I shouldn’t be making choices for you.”

“Thank you for apologizing. I understand why you did what you did. You were trying to protect me, I know. I love you Bubby.” Harry felt his world come back together at the nickname, a signal that you two would be alright. “You have a show in like three hours, you need to get ready. Eat some food, drink water please, and I’ll go and scroll through TikTok and send you all of my faves ok?”

“Ok. Thank you for being everything to me. I couldn’t do what I do today if I didn’t have you in my life.” Harry’s sincerity made your heart swell.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. We will be alright. Now go!” You urged him to hang up the phone. He gave you one last smile before hanging up.

Watching Harry through some Instagram live wasn’t what you had planned for but it felt good to see him. He even wore the outfit you picked out with Harry lambert, the blue and pink paying homage to fine line. You’re heart gushes when he tells the crowd that he’s feeling really happy.

The next day you have another therapy appointment with your regular therapist, you even phone in Harry to join the call. You felt warm on the inside as your therapist reassured that you and Harry’s relationship was on the right path. She even said that you and Harry were meant to be together.

She didn’t have to tell Harry that for him to already know that information. I mean he had the ring sitting in his pocket to prove it.

[emile-hides]

H*lding H*nds Imagines

I am once again making content for me and me alone because I have an unhealthy obsession for BNHA blond boys

BNHA Blond Boys X GN!Reader h*nd h*lding moments

Characters: All Might, Present Mic, Fatgum, Twice, Aoyama, Ojiro, Kaminari, Bakugo, Honenuki, Monoma, Mirio

All Might

Knuckle brush

You handed him things before

Stacks of papers to grade, coffee after a long day, a napkin when he goes into a coughing fit

But something about this time turns his face a deep red

He withdrew quickly, in a jerking manner that dragged more attention than you’re sure he meant it to

He cleared this throat and thanked you quietly before shuffling off

It took a few moments to really set on you

You’d made contact

Such little contact you’d barely even felt it

He was cold, his skin rough and calloused, wrinkled and dry

How you managed to notice so much with such brief contact is astounding

And also incomparable to how much he noticed

He’s thinking about it all day, glancing at where the contact was made, shuffling, flushing to himself, holding his knuckles to his lips

Do it on purpose next time you hand him a stack of papers and he’ll drop them

Present Mic

In a crowd

It’s LOUD

You and Hizashi are trying to get home after a live show

The crowd is huge and still hyped from the concert

The quarters are tight, the space is limited, and without his towering hair spike it’s hard to keep track of your loud blond

Eventually a strong clasp from a hand horribly decorated in rings, fingerless gloves, and black nail polish claps on your wrist as your continued to be pulled though a crowd

When the world finally starts to calm and you have room to breath his hand slides to connect to your palm

Fingers intertwine with yours as a series of “Y’all good?”s start, followed quickly by an excited narration of the chaos that just ensued

He’d taken your hand so causally you barely even noticed

The two of you walked in a much calmer crowd, hand in hand, as Hizashi randomly picked bystanders out of his vocal range and made up their life stories to tell you

Fatgum

Big hands

You laid idly on the couch in Fatgum’s office, the interns long sense gone home

A pile of paperwork blocked your view of your hard working hero as he sat at his desk

You slumped and slid off the couch, boredom rising as you phone lie dead on the table nearby

A loud groan drives a “Just a bit longer, gumdrop” from behind the piles of unfinished work, a bit longer could be years for all you cared

Sliding across the hardwood floor on your back, you found yourself beside Taishiro’s desk, looking up at him from an angle you were rather use to

He was focused, with a smile still on his face as he worked, writing with one hand, the other causually turning Takoyaki in the grill built into his desk

You sat up, watching quietly. He was typically pretty observant, but he may not yet have noticed your approach

When his hand stopped turning and released, you took your chance

Both your hands snatched his wrist, sitting up a bit to rest yourself on his lap, you examined his large palm

He chuckled, “What’cha doin’, cupcake?”

His hand was massive in your own, enough to make anyone feel like a child. It could engulf you, hold half your torso and still have a pinkie to spare

You pressed on his palm, he hummed and returned to work, leaving you to admire as you pleased

His knuckles were scarred, several gashes and scrapes from punching at materials harder than even his fat could handle

Old burns from cooking, white spots on his finger tips from a time before he learned patients

You leaned back on him, holding his hand in your own, and watched him work

He seemed much more blissed from your company

Twice

Not enough hands

Jin’s a very physical person

He hangs off you every chance he can get, coddling and loving on you

He finds it annoying

So it’s not surprise as you two settled down for a movie night he was instantly on your lap like a cat

He lays over you like a blanket, limbs tangled every which way, head on your chest, looking at you more than the movie

One of your hands lay idly by your head, that one he has his own over, fingers tangled messily, almost uncomfortably

His other arm trapped under you, a hug from below, resting also uncomfortably against your spine

Leaving your free hand to tangle in his hair, a rare sight to have his mask off, though it probably wouldn’t last the whole movie, it should be cherished until then

When you notice his staring at you more than the screen, you choose to join him

You slide your hand from his hair to his cheek, he leans into it with the most lovestruck puppydog look a man his age could muster

He then starts to fidget around, moving like he’s stuck

It doesn’t take long from there for him to start getting frustrated with himself, splitting an argument for two between just him

You gently lift his head to regain eye contact and ask what’s wrong

He nearly starts crying

“I want to hold your cheek too but I don’t have enough hands!!”

He’s not willing to remove your hand from his hold or pull his other arm out from under you to compromise his own needs

He does eventually start crying over his lack of extra limbs to love you with

Aoyama

Standing ovation

Roaring applause rippled thought the auditorium

It wasn’t a big show, or a big stage, but it was your first written play, and seeing it go over so well was enough to bring a tear to your eyes

You joined the audience in standing to applause as the actors took the stage for the final bow

Only the lead, your star, wasn’t there with them

You blinked once, twice, three times before panic set in

There’s no way Yuga Aoyama would miss the chance to stand center stage in a spotlight. If he wasn’t on stage something must have happened

You tried your best not to look around too fervently, not wanting to startle anyone else

When a hand clasped yours

“And let’s not forget the playwright~✨”

Before you could question how he said that with his mouth, you were dragged onto the stage by your previously mentioned star, with his own mic in hand you don’t remember giving him

He held your arm up above his head as he runway walked his way along the stage, you closely in toe

You were going to go on stage eventually but you’d planned to be a lot more quiet about it, when more people had left early not wanting to sit though the applause

But instead, here you were, center stage, hand held high like you’d just won a boxing match by your own and only Aoyama

How he could stand being this bright all the time way beyond you

For now though, it was rather nice 

Ojiro

Lost and found

You stepped out of your class stretching, ready for a well deserved lunch break when you heard your classmates muttering

“Isn’t he from the hero course?”

“What’s he doing?”

Being nosy wasn’t usually your strong suit, but the mutterings has peaked your interest

You followed the eyes of those speaking to find a blond boy sitting in the floor of the hall, knees pulled to his chest to keep his legs from disrupting the flow of traffic, with his tail resting over his feet to protect them from being stepped on

He smiled and gave a light wave to your class as the dispersed

You alone approached him, curiosity peaking. Why was he sitting out here in the hall?

When question he very sheepishly answered, “I, uh.. I got lost on my way to class”

There was several things wrong with that

Number one being, he’d been at this school half a year now. He has one classroom, a big classroom, in the hero course. It’s not easy to miss??

Number two, it was noon. Lunchtime. He has one classroom. How long had he been lost???

These questions had answers and he was, while slightly embarrassed, happy to share he had, in fact, been lost all morning. Not just in finding his class, but also in finding the exit to the building, any teachers he knew, or his phone to call for help

You began to feel sorry for the guy, as this seemed to be a common occurrence in his daily life

With a sigh, you offered your hand to help him up

It was lunch, for all courses, so surely he’d see his hero course classmates in the cafeteria. No one turns up Lunchrush’s food after all

He smiled and took your hand, lifting himself from the floor with a thankyou

“I’m Ojiro, by the way. You are...?”

He was rather polite to talk to the entire walk, his grip on your hand was soft, gentle, and his smile never seemed to waver

Kaminari

Swing yer partner round and round

“Oh this is my JAM!”

Mina excitedly turned up your shitty little radio before kicking herself up off the floor, grabbing Sero all in one quick motion

The two danced horribly off beat, you quickly guess Mina had never heard this song before in her life, just wanted to get moving

“Come on you two, it’s dance break time!”

You found yourself enraptured with her energy, already forgetting the homework you all were doing

Kaminari took your hand much like how Mina took Sero’s and began to dance just as off beat and spuratic as queen pinkie had

You laughed, stumbling with every step, same as the others, the giggling energy filling a previously silent room

Denki’s fingers dug into your knuckles as he smirked, suddenly spinning on his heel and dragging you with him

The two of you became a tornado in your tiny dorm room, barely keeping from knocking into your tea table as you spun like a couple of children

You could hear Mina cheer and laugh, a brief glanced told you Sero was recording this silly moment

You looked across the way at your dance partner

Spinning, laughing his head off like this was the most fun he’d ever had, eyes closed, caring not for his surroundings

You decided to let go

The momentum sent you both toppling, you safely into Mina, who was more then ready to catch you

Denki got the much less desirable aforementioned tea table, which sent him toppling backwards over the also aforementioned homework

If you all could have laughed any louder, you would

Bakugo

Sweaty hands

You always knew when Bakugo was going to hold your hand

He may think he’s smooth, wiping his hand on the pocket of his pants before reaching behind himself to grab at you

But you’d always notice

It was a good indicator you were walking too slow for his liking, or the area up ahead was crowed, or that he simply felt you were too far away

You couldn’t initiate holding hands, when he didn’t actively want to be in contact he’d keep his hands shoved deep in his pockets

So you just had to wait for him to wipe himself off and reach for you

You were free to wrap yourself around his arm whenever, though

He’ll look pissed, but won’t say a word

And if you move away, he’ll wipe his hand on his pants, and offer it to you, a silent plea for you to come back

Honenuki

Magic hands

You stretched out over the couch of the 1-B common room with a whine, the rest of your class in a similar state

Training was hell today, sparing with class 1-A was never a joke, and with Monoma egging the whole game up to be more than it should have been, it all just escalated to a point you all wish it hadn’t

“Alright, next.”

Honenuki, a godsend, your blessed angel, helped Tsuburaba off the second common room couch, his typically wide eyes closed and relaxed as he wobbled his way across the room

You happily took his place, stretching out on your stomach before your classmate with the magic powers of massage

His hands pressed into your back and you instantly relaxed, letting out a low hum as you snuggled the pillow under your chin

Honenuki returned your hum, his hands pressing into all your tenses spots, almost instantly releasing them from their knots

You’d probably have fallen asleep, if it wasn’t over so fast

He had the entire class to get though after all, though he hated to rush an art form

You took his hand as he helped you stand, the actual minute of his touch enough to wobble your legs

Kissing his knuckle and thanking him for sharing his magic, you found yourself plopped peacefully on the couch beside Tsuburaba

Honenuki chuckled at you as he called next, happy to be of service

Monoma

He’s showing off

You’d known for a while now Monoma didn’t know how to shut the fuck up

He’d brag about anything, over anyone, to everyone

He’d always loudly bragged about how much better his class was, how much stronger his friendships were, how absolutely amazing his partner was

You being said partner didn’t make said bragging less annoying

The two of you had been together less than an hour and he was already boasting about your perfection to all who would hear

Some genuine, loving, almost gaggingly sweet comments

Others just to rub it in the face of class 1-A as much as possible

A week into this relationship and people were starting to think you must be come kind of god with how Monoma spoke about you

You’d been on two dates with the guy

Now here you were, holding his hand on the walk to class, and regretting every step

As every single person who passed must take note of the fact you were holding his hand

And also must be aware how blessed he is to be holding your hand in return

And really you started to understand the concerned look Kendo gave you when you told her you’d agreed to date Neito Monoma

Still his words were genuine, no matter how they came across, and he truly had a million and one things to say about you

So you could hold though the embarrassment his overexcited bragging may cause

He just wants to show you off

Mirio

Quietly

You sat by his bed side, holding gently to his limp hand

Moments ago he was inconsolable, crying and screaming his lungs out

His quirk gone

His teacher gone

Everything he worked so hard for seemed to vanish in an instant

His grip, still so strong, had left your hand bruised, circulation cut off

It wasn’t a concern you really had

Sleeping, his pain was still so obvious

Bags under his eyes, dried streaks of tears still down his keeps

And your hand still tightly gripped in his

What would happen next, where he would go, who you all would become

They were all problems for the future

Tomorrow you could work on a solution

Tonight, you could hold his hand

[whumperooni]

nesting, pt. ii

Pairing: Keigo x Sister!Reader

Tags/Warnings: tw incest, tw breeding kink, tw pregnant reader, tw dubcon, nursing, mention of breastfeeding (just a tiny bit), fingering, shame, praise, depression and self-deprecation, yan keigo

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: This is a reupload of an already answered request! I’m editing some of my longer ones and reposting them so I can organize my masterlist a bit easier! You can find the original one here

Part one is here

Ask box | Rules/Info Page | Inspo Tag | Ao3 | Masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You’re disgusting. You’re so ugly.

Tears roll down your cheeks as you look in the mirror and take in the sight of your bulging belly, your fattened breasts and thighs and puffy ankles. You’re so big now- swollen with your big brother’s clutch and softer than ever, bigger and squishier than you ever imagined you would become.

Pregnancy glow? What a load of crap.

Maybe that’s just reserved for people who haven’t been drenched in sin.

You swipe at your tears and you sniffle over the way your tank top struggles to fit. Keigo won’t let you wear anything loose anymore- he likes how big you are,  he goes nuts over the visible evidence of the way he bred his little sister.

You just want to hide away from it all.

There’s the sound of a door opening and closing in the distance and you quickly try to scrub the tears from your eyes, wince as footsteps grow closer.

He’s home.

Multiple locks tumble loudly as Keigo undoes them and you hurriedly scramble to the nest, just barely get your bottom sat down before he strides in.

Keigo grins at you only for his face to falter and you flinch in worry whenever he takes a silent step closer.

He doesn’t like seeing you upset. He’s going to get mad, again, and you’re going to have to deal with some form of punishment.

Again.

(Keigo’s gotten a lot more volatile since he claimed you.

You miss your carefree, loving older brother who coddled you and made you feel safe)

“What’s with the tears, baby? You not happy to see me?”

Yes. No. He’s the only person you see anymore- it’s pathetic how you look forward to him coming home just so you’re not alone with your thoughts and worries.

You try to smile, but all you can do is cry- pathetic and upset and unable to keep up with the tears streaming down your cheeks. You sob and you whimper whenever Keigo sits himself behind you, let yourself be pulled like a weak doll against his chest as he wraps his wings around your trembling form.

“Hey, hey- what’s wrong? What’s got my mate so upset?”

His mate. Disgusting. You’re his little sister- not his mate.

Though, the eggs in your belly would say otherwise.

You weep even louder- hormonal, anguished, angry and depressed. The stroke of his hand to your hair does little to soothe you, but you still burrow against his chest in search of comfort, hate yourself as you do.

You don’t want to be like this. You want your older brother back and you just want to be normal again.

“Sis? Hey, come on- what’s wrong?”

He’s so gentle as he asks and, for a second, it’s almost like he’s your big brother again. It makes you weak and you sob more against him, curl your fingers into his shirt and shake.

“I- I’m fat and I’m- I’m ugly and I- I’m disgusting! I’m gross!”

Big tears stream down your cheeks and soak his shirt. You can’t bring yourself to care about any repercussions for your upset and all you can do is shake and weep against Keigo’s chest.

Over your tears, there’s the faintest noise from your big brother and you whimper as his arms tighten around you.

“Oh, baby...”

The murmur is so gentle, sweet. It makes it hurt worse, his tender tone, and it makes you even weaker, keeps you from wincing whenever he kisses your hair. You don’t resist when he tilts your head up and you don’t do anything more than cry and sniffle when he cups your face, looks at you so lovingly that it has you aching.

It’s like when he used to comfort you before- before when he was your big brother and not your captor, before when you were just his little sister and not his bred prisoner.

“Baby, you’re not ugly at all,” he murmurs, thumbing away your tears. “You’re so beautiful, so lovely.”

He couples the word with a soft smile and you cry harder, shake your head.

“I’m g-gross. I’m- I’m a blob!”

He huffs, but he doesn’t look angry or upset- at least from what you can see through your wet, blurry vision. His lips find your forehead and you sniffle again- louder and more pathetic, snotty from all of your dismay and bubbling distress.

“You’re gorgeous,” he insists, thumbs swiping away at more rolling tears. “You’re always gorgeous.”

“I’m not! I’m not!”

Your sobbing denial comes with harder crying, a flash of hurt going across Keigo’s face. Before he can say anything more, you burrow your face into his neck- pressing against him in a desperate sort of way that you haven’t done since he took you in his rut, made you into this pathetic wreck.

You’ll regret it later, probably. But right now? Right now you need some sort of comfort- even if it is from him.

His arms tighten around you even more and you tremble in his hold, don’t register the upset noise that leaves him or the way his wings wrap around you even more.

“Baby, baby...”

The murmured words that would have made you want to scream before only have you sniffling and pressing against him even more. Keigo’s lips press against your hair and his hands hold onto you tight, his lips move in quiet whispers that you can’t hear over your blubbering.

He lets you cry. There’s none of the punishment that you had feared- only comfort and sweetness, a gentle consolation that leaves you dizzy and overwhelmed.

“My mate, my sweet mate...you’re not- I promise you’re still beautiful. You’re so pretty, baby. So lovely. I love you. I love you so much. I love how you look.”

A hand slides down to your bulging stomach and you whine into the crook of his neck, shake your head. He shushes you, quietly, and tilts your head up with his other hand, presses a kiss to your forehead, both your cheeks.

You don’t pull away when his lips find yours- you just tremble and let it happen.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles against your lips. “You’re just growing, baby, and you’re doing it so well- I know our chicks are going to turn out so pretty like you.”

Pretty? Like you?

You’re not pretty. Keigo’s always been the pretty one- even before you got like this.

His hands smooth over your stomach and his lips press against yours again, mold in a sweet way that they haven’t quite done before. It’s so gentle compared to the hungry, greedy, possessive kisses he’s forced onto you before and you can’t help but shake, sniffle out more tears as you cling to him.

“Pretty mate,” he whispers. “Pretty girl.”

You want to deny him- you do. But the praise makes you whine instead and you shudder when his lips trail down to your jawline, smooth to your throat. Your head tilts back before you can help it and you squeeze your eyes shut- tears still slipping down your cheeks and strangled, soft noises leaving you.

You want to feel pretty. You want to feel wanted. Keigo is the only one who could want you like this; he’s the only one that would whisper praise against your skin while you’re so bloated and puffy eyed and upset.

Your big brother is the only person that could love you like this.

In fact, he’s the only person that loves you- even if it’s twisted and disgusting, perverted and sinful.

He’s the only person that’s ever going to love you.

A sob wracks through you at the realization and you let yourself be gently pushed onto your back, look up at your big brother through your wet lashes. He smiles at you- gently, sadly- and another sob leaves you, your hands reach up to him in a desperate way you’ll hate yourself for later on.

Keigo catches one of your hands and he brings it to his lips, kisses your fingers with a devotion that has your whole word quaking.

“I’ve never seen you look so gorgeous,” he murmurs, lips moving over the back of your hand and to your wrist. “You’re radiant.”

Radiant? No one has ever called you that. You’re not- you’re not. But...

“Ni- nii-san...”

The whine leaves you before you can think about holding it back and his eyes close, a soft groan leaves him. Keigo places another kiss to your wrist and then he lets your hand drop, leans down until he can nuzzle at your neck.

You don’t do more than whimper when he noses down to your breasts, shiver when his thumbs slowly smooth over your sensitive nipples. Keigo pulls your tank top down in a cautious sort of way that you’re absolutely not used to from him and you shudder from the consideration he’s gracing you with.

You squirm when you’re bared to him and squeeze your eyes shut in shame, bite your lip and stifle a whine when his hands cup your swollen breasts.

“They’ve gotten so big,” he sighs out- soft and happy. “Full of milk for our chicks.”

The way his tongue laves over your nipple is almost soothing and a horrible mewl leaves you whenever his lips latch onto it, gives a suck.

You’re so sensitive now- body wracked by your live-wire hormones and your overwhelmed emotions. It takes only a second for your breathing to turn stuttered and your fingers twitch against the padding of the nest, there’s an urge to curl your digits into his hair that you’re able to just barely resist.

“Could suck on these all day,” he mumbles- your nipple still in his mouth, his tongue jostling against it and making you squirm, making your breath hitch. “Love them, baby. I love them.”

“Nii-san...”

He groans, again, and he sucks your nipple, switches to the other to lay his attention on it as well.

It’s a betrayal to yourself how you arch up, but you’re already lost to it all- your hormones, your need to feel wanted, your desperation to forget for just a moment that you’re not what he’s saying but a disgusting mess instead.

He murmurs something but it’s lost against your flesh, lost underneath the whine that leaves you. Keigo oh so gently scrapes his teeth against your hardened peak and whimper leaves you as you feel a heat light down low.

You don’t fight it whenever his hand rubs over your stomach and sneaks down low. You don’t fight the way your legs part for him and you don’t fight the quiet, quiet moan that leaves you whenever he cups your mound. His finger hooks your panties to the side and slips through your slit. There’s a pause to his nursing, an upset whimper from you whenever his lips pull from your tit as he lifts his head. He looks down at you- surprise on his face, his expression blurred from your still teary gaze- and you whimper again when he blinks, whenever his eyes widen ever so slightly.

“You’re wet,” he breathes out, finger finding your clit and stroking it so your gasp. “Oh, baby...”

The way he says it is so- so- so happy. So pleased. So full of praise.

Your lashes flutter in some unwanted creep of joy and you turn your head away from him in shame, squeeze your eyes shut as your bottom lip wobbles and your heart pounds hard.

His finger works over you as he watches you in wonder and you whimper, squirm from his ministrations. Whenever Keigo slides a finger inside you, a whine slips from your lips and your back arches, your swollen belly brushes against his lean one.

Some part deep in the back of your mind screams over how unfair it is that he gets to stay toned and gorgeous while you’re forced to become a large, waddling blob. It’s something that doesn’t quite get to surface, though- not with the starry burst of heat that flames through you whenever his finger curls and brushes over your sweet spot to make you gasp and mewl.

“Fuck. Good girl, good mate. God, you look so pretty.”

Pretty. You’re not- you’re not-

You want to be pretty.

A sniffle leaves you and his lips find your nipple again, he begins to nurse your oh so tender tit. It’s needier, almost feverish but still careful and you can’t help the clench you give to his finger, you can’t help reaching up and curling your digits into his hair as he slides another inside you.

The room is starting to fill with sounds of your wavering, upset, overwhelmed, needy whimpers. The room is starting to fill with the wet shlick of his fingers and the soft, muffled groans that slip from him.

You gasp and whine his name whenever his thumb finds your clit and you tug on his hair without meaning to, press his face tighter against your breast. The way his fingers begin to pump in and out of your shamefully wet pussy has you trembling and you throw your head back as your hips try to move in a stuttered motion against his hand.

“That’s it,” he mutters- so encouraging as he laves his tongue over your nipple in between the words. “Such a sweet little sister- such a good girl.”

Little sister.

Tears spill down your cheeks with a renewed vigor but you’re not able to stop the way you chase after hazy pleasure, the desperate need to fall into something that will help you forget everything.

He ruts against your thigh and you shake your head when you feel him pull back to take his cock out, look up at him through your tears as he pulls down his zipper.

“The babies! You’ll hurt-”

You choke on the words before they can fully leave you- eyes going wide and a hand slapping over your mouth in disbelief.

You...when did you start to...when did you start to care about your big brother’s clutch growing inside of you? When did you start to care about the chicks that are distorting your body, bloating you with the sin of your big brother’s deeds?

Keigo stares down at you- golden eyes wide for a moment before they soften, before something loving fills his expression. You cry whenever his hand cups your wet cheek, fall apart even more as you try so hard to swim through all your mismatched, contrasting feelings.

“...look at you,” he murmurs, thumb caressing your cheekbone and smoothing away your tears. “Such a good mama.”

Mama. You’re- oh, god you are a mama.

A choked sob leaves you and you press your lips against his when he moves to kiss you, fumble your hands over his back and wings until you can curl your fingers tight into his hair once more. He shudders as you kiss him back and his hands press firmly against your cheeks, his breathing grows just a bit ragged whenever he rests his forehead against yours and look down at you with adoring eyes and flushed cheeks.

“I won’t hurt you,” he promises. “I won’t hurt the chicks.”

How can you believe the words of someone that took you against your will? How can you believe the words of someone that’s kept you captive so long?

You can’t, but you want to- you want to believe, desperately, that your big brother is going to be good to you- that he’ll make his sins easier to deal with, that he’ll love you and care for you even in his crazed possession.

You’re giving into him, into the situation.

...but what else can you do?

You sniffle and Keigo kisses you again, noses against your cheek and then burrows his face into your neck.

“Won’t go inside,” he mumbles, hips canting and dripping cock rocking against your plush thigh. “Won’t hurt you. Won’t hurt our babies.”

The promises almost makes everything better.

You whine- so much softer than before- and your head moves in a weak, horrible nod. The compliance has your big brother shuddering against you and his lips find your nipple again, latch on as his hand moves back to your cunt, rubs against you and makes you arch.

“I love you, baby. I love you so much.”

You sniffle at the muffled words and you sniffle at your tears, the shameful pleasure building inside you, your weak and pathetic break that has you accepting all this instead of fighting like you should.

You sniffle, again, and nod as Keigo’s humping gets a little faster, squeeze your eyes shut tight as a tingle shoots through your breast, as your big brother gets the first taste of your milk.

“I- I love you too, nii-san...”

Keigo moans and you shudder as you rock your hips against his fingers, as you fall deeper into the twisted shambles that your life has become.

[itsallyscorner]

I am loving your Little Mix member!reader x Tom Holland stuff! Could you write something about Tom comforting the reader after Jesy leaving the band? 💙

Hello darling! Thank you for the request and I’m sorry for taking so long, I’ve been busy with school😩 But it’s finally here, I’m writing about Jesy leaving Little Mix😭Thank you again and happy reading💞

💌.

A Horrible Friend

You knew it would happen one day, but didn’t expect it to be so soon. You knew all the hate and pressure would get too much for her, though you believed that she was strong enough to overcome their hateful words. Jesy is strong. As much as it hurt you and the other remaining girls to see her leave, you were all proud of her for finally putting herself first and doing something for her mental health. Away from the prying eyes of the public, you and the girls knew that Jesy had been struggling behind the scenes. From the constant pressure of being in one of the world’s biggest girl groups and living up to other people’s expectations; Jesy was unhappy.

“Before I share my announcement, can the girls and I just have a moment alone?” Jesy asked, turning towards the management team and producers. Your shared publicist nodded solemnly and ushered the rest of the people in the room outside. You shared a look with Perrie who shrugged with the same amount of confusion as you.

You eyed Jesy warily; her cheeks were a bit puffy and there was a hint of redness in her eyes. Her fingers nervously fiddled with each other while her eyes shifted between you and the girls.

“Babe, what’s up?” Perrie questioned her, concern lacing her voice. Jesy’s lip quivered and her eyes began to water. She shook her head then placed her head in her hands. Jade scooted closer to Jesy and brought her into her arms, “Oh Jesy, what’s wrong?”

You join Jade and wrap your arms around Jesy’s other side. You rest your chin on Jesy’s shoulder while rubbing circles onto her back. When she was ready to talk, she wiped her tears away with the pads of her thumbs, and grasped your hand with hers.

“I just want you to know that I love you all so much. I’m so blessed that you’ve all been part of a chapter in my life and I want to thank you for being the bestest friends I could ever ask for. You have showed me nothing but kindness and love, you supported me through literally anything. Seriously, from the bottom of my heart, you guys mean the world to me. Without any of you, I might not even be here today.” Jesy spoke, fighting her tears and sniffling in between her sentences.

“You don’t need to thank us. We’re a family, Jesy, it’s what families do. We’ll always be here to support you no matter what.” Leigh-Anne reassured her, reaching across the table to take Jesy’s other hand.

“I don’t want you guys to hate me.” Jesy cried quietly. Your brows furrowed together. You squeezed her hand, “Jesy we could never hate you.”

Perrie leaned closer to Jesy, “Jes, what’s wrong?Tell us what’s wrong, please? We’ll do our best to help you, whatever it is.”

Jesy sighed and looked up at the ceiling to hold back her tears.

“You all know that I’ve been having a difficult time. With performing, making appearances—everything just feels like it’s too much now. I love our job and what we do, but for a while now I’ve been finding it hard to actually enjoy what we’re doing. I feel so suffocated always having to please other people and have people expect things from me. It’s to the point where I’ve had to fake my happiness and put on fake smiles just for people to think I’m okay. When in reality, I’m not.” Jesy confessed. From the words that were coming out her mouth and the physical state she was in, you had a feeling of what she wanted to tell you all. Jesy’s voice faded out while your eyes grew watery and your vision blurred.

“In regards to my mental health, I have come to the decision that I will be officially leaving Little Mix.” Jesy announced. The room was at a stand still. Nobody spoke, the only noise in the room were the sounds of you and the girls sniffling and crying to yourselves.

“I’m sorry.” Jesy cried turning to you. You shook your head at her, tears freely streaming down your face. You wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to be sorry, but you couldn’t find the strength to speak without breaking down, so instead you wrapped your arms around her and cried into her shoulder.

Tom heard the front door opening meaning that someone was home. It couldn’t have been Harrison or Tuwaine since they’ve both left to visit their families and Harry was locked in his room sleeping in for the day. Which only left one other person. You.

A wave of excitement rushed through his body since he knew you were finally back home. He also knew that you were coming back from a meeting with the girls, which usually meant talks of the next album, new projects, and possibly a tour. He couldn’t wait for you to come skipping into the living room and tell him all about it. Except you didn’t.

When you usually arrived home, you would loudly announce yourself or yell out a “Baby I’m home” to Tom. Instead, he heard the door distinctly shut and a sniffle coming from the hallway. The quietness and the sniffle was enough for him to worriedly rush off the couch.

“Babe?” He called out, leaning past the wall to peak behind it. You were shoving off your jacket and hanging it on the coat rack attached to the wall when you made eye contact with Tom. A small gasp passes through his lips once he sees your tear stained face. He was immediately by your side, wrapping his buff arms around your figure and letting you rest your head in the crook of his neck. Finally in the comfort of your lover, you let out all the sobs you were holding in since the meeting.

Tom softly shushed you, rocking you back and forth, while rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Oh darling, what’s wrong?” He cooed against your hair. You didn’t answer, only letting out small whimpers into his shoulder.

You felt his body tense up and his arms tighten around you, “Do I need to give someone a beating? Who made you cry? Was it someone at management? I’ll drive there right now and give them a piece of my mind for messing with my girl.” After two years of being together, Tom was aware of the mistreatment your previous record label had towards you and the girls. Ever since then, he’s been very protective of you (and the girls) when it came to anything involving management.

You shook your head against his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his torso. Tom suspected that you weren’t ready to speak yet; he felt you hiccup against him while your tears soaked his shirt.

Tom lightly patted your thigh, signaling for you to jump. “How about we go to bed for now? We could go to our room and get all comfy, how does that sound, darling?” You weakly nodded as Tom helped you wrap your legs around his waist. Before he can take you both to your shared room, he stopped by the kitchen and got you a bottle of water.

He gently set you on the edge of the bed, twisting the bottle of water open and handing it to you. He got a pair of his sweats and one of his shirts from his side of the closet and helped you changed into them. Your cries have slowly come to a stop, leaving you to hiccup against Tom’s chest, where your head rested on. He was leaning against the headboard with you cuddled into him.

You shut your eyes after feeling them burn from all the crying. One of Tom’s fingers were tangled in your hair and his other was resting against your back.

“What happened at the meeting?” Tom finally asked quietly.

“Jesy’s leaving the band.” You answer, voice coming out hoarsely. Tom stops his motions in your hair and leans back to get a proper look at you.

“What?”

“Jesy’s leaving the band.” You repeated. Tom’s brows knit together in confusion. Like you and the girls, he was just as shocked as you all were.

“D—did she confirm it? Are you sure she wasn’t just mentioning it? Maybe she was joking, you know how Jes can get.” Tom stammered.

“It’s official Tom! I was fucking there!” You exclaim, voice raising in frustration. Your eyes were now open, meaning you didn’t miss the way Tom flinched at your change in tone. You sigh and shut your eyes again, rubbing your temples with your fingers. “I’m sorry.” You apologized.

“No, don’t be sorry, it’s okay.” He assured you, resting his palm against the back of your head to rest it in between his shoulder and neck. He placed a light kiss on your temple, repeating the action a few times to comfort you.

“Jesy said she couldn’t handle being in the band anymore.” You started. “The way she described it was so heartbreaking. Tom, she said hasn’t been properly happy for months now. She was faking it all this time just to make us believe she was fine.” You explained, voice wavering.

You breathed in, feeling the hiccups starting to bubble from your chest again.

“I’m a horrible friend. How could I have not noticed that something was wrong? I should’ve known that she wasn’t herself, I knew there was something off about her but I didn’t do anything.” You cried, tears forming in your eyes again. Tom frowned at you.

“No, don’t blame yourself for not knowing a thing. You couldn’t have ever guessed that she was going through something.” Tom tried to reason with you. He moved some strands of hair away from your face and tilted your chin up to look at him.

“Y—yeah but still—“

“But nothing. Just because you can’t detect how someone is automatically feeling does not mean you’re a horrible friend. You’re only human, sweetheart.” He cradled your face and made sure that you were listening to every word that came out his mouth. It already hurt to see you cry, but it was worse to know that you were blaming yourself for the departure of your friend.

“(Y/n), you’ve always been there for Jesy. You’ve been there to lift her up when she was low. You made her laugh, reminded her everyday of how beautiful she was inside and out—you’re far from a horrible friend. You’re one of the greatest friends she could have ever had. And I know Jesy would agree.” His thumbs wipe at the tears that trailed down your face. He sent you a small smile, attempting to get rid of that pout on your lips.

“I just wish I could’ve done something. Maybe if I did, she would’ve stayed in the band. With us.” You mumbled. Tom hummed in response, “But darling, Jesy said she was unhappy. Whether you or the other girls were to try something, she would’ve still left. Would you rather her continue to fake her happiness or would you want her to leave and take care of herself?”

You frowned, knowing Tom was right, “I’d want her to take care of herself. I don’t want us to hold her back and make her suffer. She deserves to be happy.”

Tom leaned down to connect your lips with his, “And you deserve to be happy as well. Don’t beat yourself up for Jesy leaving, you did nothing wrong. None of you did. It’s just time for Jesy to move on to a new part in her life and find happiness again.”

You hum sadly, “I know. I’m glad she’s decided to do something for herself for once, it just hurts to know that she won’t be there with us anymore.”

“That’s understandable.” Tom comfortingly rubbed your back, easing the tension in between your shoulders. “But I know she’ll still be supporting you guys from the sidelines, she wouldn’t let you guys get rid of her that easily.” He chuckled nudging you with his shoulders. A burst of happiness erupted in his body when he saw a shy smile form on your lips; he finally got you to smile.

Tom squeezed your shoulders at the idea he came up with, “Ooo, once you guys are on tour again can you put my seat next to Jesy? I’ll get to annoy her the entire time and she won’t have the option to leave because you’ll all be one stage.”

You snort out a laugh and smack his chest, “No! Do you want her to hate me? She can’t stand you.” Tom joined you in laughing, happy to see that you were feeling better.

“You know, I’m gonna miss her poking fun at me whenever I see you and the girls.” Tom reminisced after you both stopped laughing.

“Yeah, we’re all gonna miss that. Especially her embarrassing you every chance she gets.” You added giggling softly against his neck.

It was quiet between you two until Tom craned his neck to look down at you, “You guys are going to be fine without her. I know you guys might think it’s hard, and it’ll take some time to move on, but I believe you girls can do it. I know you all can.”

You offer him a grateful smile and press a kiss to the corner of his lips, “Thank you. I love you so much.”

Tom responds to you with a pout, “I love you too, darling. But you missed.”

“Missed what?”

“My lips!” He exclaimed making a show of puckering his lips out at you. You were about to kiss him but decided this was the perfect opportunity for some light teasing.

“Oh sorry, I couldn’t find them from how thin they are.” You apologized. Tom’s jaw dropped before he began scooting away from under you. From the playful glint in your eye, he obviously knew you were joking. Though he didn’t expect you to crack a joke at him, especially after such a heartfelt moment.

“So is that how it’s gonna be? You’re gonna be the one to make fun of me now?” He dramatically asked you, a hand on his chest.

“Well if Jesy’s not gonna be around as much, someone has to do it.” You shrugged, leaving him on the bed and moving to leave for the kitchen. Tom panned his eyes around the room like how they do in The Office.

“I’m just never going to catch a break, am I?”

[stuckybarton]

Red Velvet Cake

Summary:   Behind the sweet smile and angelic personality was a spitfire when someone dared destroy her little bakery in the heart of New York. Steve finds that out the hard way when his girlfriend's bakery becomes collateral damage in a small fight in New York. Warning: Profanities. Mild Violence. (Two Loud Slaps to be specific). Grammar Errors. Not Beta’d. Characters: Unnamed Female Character x Steve Rogers Words: 1,775 A/N: I don’t know, I just thought of this idea and thought why not. Masterlist

You had never thought your life would become this wild, but you've gone with the flow. Who would have ever thought that finally starting this bakery in the heart of New York. It was tough, with just a handful of employees, would bring you into so much chaos in your once peaceful life.

Meeting the Avengers had been a wild ride with a smooth beginning for you. First meeting Sam, a man that was looking for a quick snack post-work out. A man with a soft smile and quick quips that brought a smile on everyone's faces every single time he would come to visit. Then eventually, he came not alone, but with two of his best friend and your life changed ever since.

Bucky Barnes was the mellow of the trio, preferring to stay in the background while Sam would try his hardest to flirt with you and push his other friend with you. But he always had this charm on him that had a few of your female employees swooning just by the simply nickname of Doll he would throw at them.

But Sam's other friend had all his attention on you just as much as you had your entire attention on him. The dame that always spoiled him with sweets and made him enjoy morning runs more now that your bakery become their daily stop after.

It started out with the flirtation, at least that was what Steve believed it to be. Having been used to Sam's daily flirtation, you got so immune to it that it had become easier to hide the warmth in your cheeks or the heart eyes that Sam and Bucky were once quick to point out when Steve wasn't looking. Eventually it ended with him finally asking you out for lunch and the rest, as they say was history between the two of you.

Eventually, it had brought you into the circle of what was his team. The Avengers. Starting with one Tony Stark that had visited your bakery one fair morning and brought everything in your bakery long before the trio would come for their visit. It was an eventful day for you, that much you could admit. Everyone had the rest of the day to themselves and gave you time to spend with Steve, as annoyed as he was to not be able to have his usual treats. You made him your special apple pie as compensation, much to his enjoyment.

Then it was the rest of the team, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, and Vision. Visiting after getting a taste of your pastries that Tony Stark had generously provided for the team. Now like the trio, you now have another trio you can call as your regulars. Then there was Clint Barton, Thor, and Dr. Bruce Banner that eventually came to visit after everyone had egged them on and they would come for a few pastries and coffee, but not as much as the rest of the bunch. You were alright with that, being able to meet Steve's team and knowing each and every single one of them were good people in their own little way was enough for you.

Weeks turned into months, and months now turned to almost two years. Your life at the bakery was filled with ups and downs just as much as your relationship with one Steve Rogers. The constant fear you had when he was on a mission, uncertain whether he would come back alive or not.  Then there was the more often than not times that you were too consumed with the bustling number of customers than you only had time to give him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before helping out on the cashier. It had once been a fight between the two of you because of your line of work, but you would constantly compromise. He was out saving the world while you were living the dream you had always wanted for yourself with baking. Instead of his apartment in Brooklyn, Steve was now living with you, in the humble little apartment you had above the bakery. Your little piece of heaven.

This life you had created with Steve was something you had never thought you'd have for yourself but you were enjoying it immensely. You would want nothing more in your life. Until things had gone horribly bad and you want nothing more than to kill Steven Grant Rogers and the rest of the Avengers.

~

Y/N was going to kill him. That much Steve had known while they continued on with the debriefing. A quarter of New York City was wiped clean by the attack of the alien overlord attempting their luck on the planet. As much as Tony had assured that they could stay in the tower while repairs were being made, He was still uncertain with what you would be feeling because of it.

Nothing hurts him more than seeing you sad or disappointed.

"What's the ETA on the repair?" he inquired as soon as the meeting was done.

"More or less two weeks. We've had our team assure Y/N that her employees would be paid full for the two weeks while we are doing repairs." Tony explained. "Last time I heard she barely spoke a word while she helped her employees with cleaning up."

Steve could only sigh, annoyance peaking through his mind. It was worst than he thought.

"Mister Stark, Ms. Y/L/N is on her way to the meeting room." F.R.I.D.A.Y announced.

Before the A.I could finish with the announcement, the sudden slam of the door had everyone's head turn, every single one ready for another fight. But the sight of the innocent Y/N looking displeased brought everyone to a slight calm. There was still a problem, but this was better than another alien attack.

"Babe-"

The resounding slap had everyone else wincing. So much for the Super Serum. Everyone could see the red imprint on Steve's face and your shaky hand responsible for the said mark on the Captain's face.

"Your fucking shield destroyed the ramekins." you snapped, Steve could practically see you shaking from where you stood in front of him.

You were nothing, compared to him, a Super Soldier. But just the sight of you, fuming to the nose made everyone believe that you can easily take him on. This was a genuine surprise for Steve. He had seen so much side of his girlfriend of nearly two years. Through many stages of emotional turmoil, happiness, sadness, annoyance, dysphoria, and that godforsaken puppy dog eyes that he could never say no to. But this, the sight of you  angry, genuinely furious was the last thing he would have ever thought to see from you.

"Everyone has a long day, Y/N." Tony approached and the glare than now focused on her made it very well known that his presence and his response was the biggest mistake he has ever made in the moment. "Why don--"

Tony wasn't able to finish his sentence as he gets to experience the same slap handed to him by you. Without the Super Soldier Serum, the sound of the slap resounded even louder than the former. Everyone was left in a mix of shock and the need to hold in their laughter at the shock look than now lingered on Tony's face as he rubbed his red cheek.

"As for you," you snapped pointing your finger right into Tony. "You're going to pay for both the fuckin bakery and my apartment upstairs. Of all the places Stark, you just had to throw the alien on my newly renovated bathroom."

Tony could only nod.

"Your people also need to talk to my employees, some of them are injured because a big fucking green dickhead thought it would be nice to throw alien matters into the basement like basketballs through the hoops." you snapped side-glancing towards the guilty Bruce Banner that refused to make any eye contact with you. "You're covered for their hospital bills, therapy, and two weeks of their supposed shift."

Tony gaped nodding.

"Jesus, why the fuck does it always have to be New York, better yet, why the hell does it have to be in the US? There are so many fucking countries in this world." You ranted turning your attention back to Steve that now broke into a small smile at your outburst. "You're not off the hook. We're staying here, but you're sleeping on the coach until further notice."

What smile he had now comes falling from his face. Blinking, this was a dangerous situation. Far more dangerous than his earlier encounter with the aliens only hours ago. But all he could do was nod, not knowing if any protest from him would result in a worst punishment.

"Sam," you turned to the man that now looked scared to be your focus. "Can you show me to the kitchen? I'll try making everyone someone to eat. God knows you're all starving." you request, all signs of anger now slowly dissolving from your features.

Steve didn't know what scared him more at this point, your anger or how quick you were able to recover from said anger. As Sam escorted you out of the meeting room, the rest of the team also made their way out to help you in whatever you may need in the kitchen. It now left Steve and Tony alone, practically still feeling the aftermath of your slap.

"Having second thought about proposing, Lover Boy?" Tony finally broke the awkward silence.

Taking a deep breath, the first chuckle all day finally escaped his lips.

No, he was far from having second thoughts. The engagement ring hidden in his locker room made it evident to him what he was about to do on their 2nd anniversary. It would take some convincing on your part after what happened. But you loved him enough to forgive him for what happened, since technically it wasn't really his fault why the bakery was ruined.

"The proposal is still a go, Tony." he responds finally leaving the meeting room to making his way to the kitchen, already hard at work with cooking what he assumed was spaghetti and meatballs and his favourite red velvet cake.

"Steve's not having any cake right?" Nat asked as soon as she caught sight of him.

"You know what, Romanoff--"

"Not even a fucking crumb." Your response even with you facing away from him had everyone roaring in laughter and Steve rolling his eyes even with the smile on his lips growing bigger at the situations.

The things he has to endure for love.

[shawtynagito]

I really need to make banners for my one shots

Chongyun & confessing

Reader has no specified gender

Confessions were painfully hard to plan out.. It wasnt the planning of what would happen afterward, whether they accepted the others feelings, or rejected them. The hardest part was,,, planning how to not overheat and go batshit crazy.

"Why go through all this trouble, Chongyun?" You hummed, arms raised in the air as you read the book Xingqiu had lended to you. It was full of big words you didn't even understand. "Just confess! And if they don't return the feelings, their loss!" You hummed.

"Yeah, their loss, huh...?" He repeated, placing a hand over his chest in an attempt to calm his rapidly beating heart. If he let it get the best of him, he'd probably do something crazy. "They don't have much to lose."

You rose your brow as you turned your head toward him, there was plenty to lose. Infact, if he went out and confessed to someone that accepted the feelings, you'd be losing a ton, there! But you couldn't keep him by your side, forever.

"Well it would be their loss of a lovely boyfriend." You hummed, looking back up at the ceiling to think of something. "A cyro vision wielding, claymore using, Exorcist boyfriend!" You summed up, rolling over onto your stomach. "Sounds cool to me."

"But I've never even excorcised a spirit, before..." He sighed, a frown stretched on his lips.

"Yeah, well... You win some you lose some." You sighed, picking the book back up from your side to continue reading the book. "There's no reason to worry about their answer... Until you get the answer, and I'll be here to comfort you."

You turned to the side to hide your frown, man, there was no reason to be jealous or sad at a moment like this. Chongyun could never even show emotion, but if he had a partner, maybe he would actually be happy.

"You'll be my friend even if they say, no?" He asked, shutting his eyes as he exhaled deeply. Removing the hand from over his chest, he stood.

"Here goes nothing," He gulped, "I-I've got this." He reassured himself before turning to you, he kind of wanted to see your face, but your back was turned to him. "Can you-, turn around?" He asked.

You quickly turned around, focusing on the book in your hands. Though, you were actually reading any thing. You were just, staring at it. He couldn't see you behind the book you were reading, but it was enough.

"[Firstname], I-," He paused, shutting his eyes. Keeping control of his feelings was really hard at a moment like this.

You lowered the book to peak at him, there was a noticeable blush on his face despite the fact he hid it behind his hands.

It took him a few seconds before he brought his hands down. His face as stoic as it could be with a blush accompanying it.

"I-! I-!" He sputtered, he couldn't get a hold of himself no matter how much he tried. "I-!"

"I-really-like-you!" He sputtered quickly, making eye contact with you. All he could see were your eyes, but he was sure you were surprised.

"Oh," You blinked, lowering the book from your face. Your blush was delayed, but it spread like wildfire. "I see..."

Chongyuns posture went rigid before he loosened up, just 'oh, I see'? That was a horrible response. He wanted to know how you felt-!

"I feel-," You started, looking for a way to hide your face. You really shouldn't have put the book down. "I feel the same way-"

A thud echoed through the room as Chongyun resided on the floor, steam comically pouring out of his ears.

"Oh, he passed out.."

[meliorist-midoriya]

to you, to the world, to my love (you’re all three)

synopsis: midoriya has always had too much love to give in a world that loved to take. you’re just hoping that he has enough left for you in the end.

pairing: midoriya izuku x reader

genre: fluff with a touch of angst

warnings: some insecurity

word count: 2.5k

notes: happy valentine’s day, everyone! this is my contribution for the pocuties server collab, based off the greek types of love, of which i had the honor of receiving izuku and decided upon agape  please help yourself to the box of chocolates they’re offering for valentine’s, there’s a wide selection of chocolates handmade by talented creators, so i’m sure you’ll find something to your taste! tbh i only managed to finish this fic because i was watching chan’s valentine’s vlive and i was in a super soft mood ;3;

extra: agápe - the ancient greek concept of selfless, universal love.

“Making his debut in the pro hero scene, Pro Hero Deku is blazing a trail straight out of UA—”

“—Pro Hero Deku solved an astounding 30 cases in the past month—”

“Deku’s popularity is skyrocketing, rivaling that of—”

“Hero Deku—”

“Deku—”

“Pro Hero Deku has swept the hero rankings to come out on top as Number 1!”

With a resolute ‘click’ of the remote, the reporters’ overlapping voices cut off as the TV screen faded away, your lonely reflection staring back at you from the blank screen. You, curled up on your empty couch, in your empty apartment with the clock striking what should have been dinner. The TV was only there in an attempt to drown out the crushing silence, the white noise—hellbent on filling the space his presence had left—was deafening.

That attempt failed.

Horribly.

If anything, it just made the sense of wrongness permeating the air even worse. 

(That TV recap of his best moments didn’t help as much as you hoped it would.)

Being alone in this apartment felt… off. As if someone had gouged out what should’ve been there, the ghost of a presence settling a chill into your bones that ran far deeper than just plain loneliness. The foreboding grief of what could be, the fear that you’d resigned yourself to the moment you agreed to follow him on this path, the selfishness gnawing at your conscience every time you saw him run out the door to save the next person, to solve the next case. 

Things like an All Might coffee mug sitting primly next to yours on the drying rack, garishly yellow “tufts” staring back at you with a cracked vengeance. (You’d apologized profusely to him that day, promising to buy him another one. He’d just smiled over his cracked cup of coffee, telling you not to worry about it for the hundredth time.)

Things like his haphazard mess of notes and scrawl spread out on the kitchen counter, the pen sitting next to the half finished page. (You’ve long since learned to leave his notes be, they’ll be tidied up once he’s done… if he’s ever truly done.)

The filled queue of movies and pile of DVDs you’d picked out together, giddy over plans to watch the next time he had a free night. (You remember pretending not to notice him trying to slip another hero documentary near the bottom of the pile, distracting you with talks of popcorn and the night that was supposed to be tonight.)

Deku. The man the world adored, clinging to his promise like a lifeline in times of need. 

Midoriya Izuku. The man you loved, who promised you the world.

“It’ll be okay, I’m here.”

His soft promise echoed both in the battlefield and in your darkest hours, a close mirror to a hero of a generation past, yet it was different. It was his own. Comforting, personal, and wholly him. The public, weak and grasping for new support, latched on to the small sliver of hope his hand offered and he just kept giving, giving, giving. It never seemed to stop, and you were scared. 

He was a man with a bleeding heart with all the love to give and more. To the civilians, to the villains, to anyone in need.

Now, you needed his promise more than ever. A reassurance whispered into reunions and the thousandth hospital visit, over fresh scars and searing kisses. A promise that he would come home. You didn’t want to think of all the times he came so, so close to breaking that promise, even before you two had made it, before you two had even promised yourselves to each other in your UA days.

You pulled the blanket a little tighter around you, staring down at your phone with no real intent in mind as you scrolled. The video playing one of his interview clips (bashfully reciting his “catchphrase,” how cute) cut his voice short as you scrolled past to move on to the next, wincing at the next tweet on your timeline. Him, battered and bloody, as he pulled a child from the aftermath of the battle he’d just won. 

You still need to wrap that new mug you got him as a gift. You still had to listen to him bounce his ideas off of you. You still had to move that hero documentary to the top of the pile. You still—

“Hero Deku saves 30 people, no casualties,” A soft murmuring of the headline shattered the silence, and you smiled to yourself, giggling at all the replies joking of how he threw himself into the fray a little more responsibly and singing their praises.

It’ll be okay.

“Ugh, those reporters are at it again.” 

At your best friend’s exasperated groan, you followed their gaze over to see— ah. 

A small swarm of reporters had worked their way into the fans crowding your boyfriend, their press badges reading every tabloid magazine on this side of the city and prying questions falling off their tongue like poison. From what you could hear over their overlapping clamoring, they were trying to dig into his private life.

Again. 

Deku, the darling of the masses, all sweet smiles and sincere words amidst his strength. Deku, the number one hero with the tightest lock on his private life, which came as a surprise to both everyone and no one.

It was a given, considering his position at the peak of hero society.

It was also a complete shock, considering his tendency to ramble into tangents that had his PR team withering.

Which seemed to help in times like these, now that you thought about it, laughing to yourself as you watched the reporters’ expressions darken in defeat the longer he continued to talk around their questions. Quite a long stretch from stiffly standing on the practice stage at UA all those years ago, frozen from nerves. You idly mused to this to yourself, taking a sip of your drink as you dragged your gaze back over to your best friend.

“Did you choose this cafe because it’s right along Izuku’s patrol route?” They stiffened, and you couldn’t help but laugh at their obvious intentions.

“Maybe, or it could’ve been just a coincidence.” The next teasing jab was halfway off your tongue when they cut you off before you could give into the urge, the words dying in your throat. “When was the last time you saw him anyway? I know you two live together but Todoroki told me he practically lives at the agency with how swamped they are. Are you okay?”

You purse your lips, staring down at the ice swirling around in your cup as you idly stirred it round. As if the sloshing liquid could whisper the answer you wish you knew.

“...Yeah.” They cocked a brow, and you took another sip to try and delay your time. “It’s not like either of us can help it. Izuku’s number one, so this was bound to happen.”

(The clamoring from the reporters grew ever louder. Persistent, that bunch.)

Their expectant (doubting) gaze was met with your own steady one, and you smiled. Whether it was out of consolation or resignation was anyone’s guess.

“We’re okay, I promise.”

You should really be getting to sleep. 

Really, you should.

At least, that’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the past several hours, tossing and turning in your bed with nothing but winter-cold sheets and a gnawing loneliness to keep you company. You know you should be sleeping when the clock on the bedside table reads an ungodly hour and there was work to be done in the morning. You know you should be sleeping when the moon disappears from the night sky and leaves you with nothing but the city lights to dimly illuminate the dark room.

You really know you should be sleeping when you hear the front door click open, Izuku shuffling around the apartment to get ready for whatever minimal amount of sleep he’d get before he had to be up and running soon after.

Despite this, sleep still refuses to come, and you don’t bother pretending to be asleep when he slides into bed next to you. Instead, you turn over and curl into his chest, stifling the guilt that bubbles up when he jumps in surprise.

“Something keeping you up?” Oh, he sounds so tired, and part of you wishes you could just make it all go away. The weight of the world rests heavy on his shoulders, and deep down, you wonder if you’re part of that burden. You curl a little closer, as if trying to smother the thoughts that crashed upon you, spilling over the crack in the dam that only widened the more you spoke.

“Jus’ a little lonely, is all.” Your voice is too quiet, brittle, and you pray to every deity that would listen that he would drop it. That he wouldn’t take on yet another burden when he was already carrying Altas’s share of the world.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Of course, the gods are hardly ever so merciful—to them you are just another wishful mortal in the realm of the holy and damned—and Izuku’s hand rests on your cheek with a tenderness that makes you want to cry.

“...Why?” 

The confusion that falls over his expression (gaunt, tired, and God, should you even be doing this right now?) is immediate, and he tilts your face up to meet his gaze with yours, like he could find the answer in city lights dancing over your face. His thumb strokes soft patterns over your cheek—as if brushing off the layers you’d built to protect your soul—and you lean into his soft touch with a sigh.

“Why what?”

The words spill from your lips unbidden, your hesitations softened by the comfort of his touch, the sudden drowsiness, and the emotion that near overwhelms you.

“Why do you still try to do everything yourself? When there’s so many people out there, ready to support you?” His breath hitches in shock, but it’s too late to go back now. You reach up to hold the hand cradling your cheek, distantly remembering a time when he was too insecure of his scarred and crooked hands to even hold your hand.

He’s come a long way, indeed.

“I love you, Izuku. I just don’t know if that can hold up against your love for the world.” 

Something in his gaze softens, to your surprise. His smile is even softer.

“What would you do if you’re both?”

“Wh— Izuku—”

He continues, and you listen, raptured by his words spoken into the glow of the blue hour.

“Yes, I know that at the end of the day, peace and safety has to come first, but—” His smile widens into something bashful, a smile that never failed to send butterflies scattering through your heart. “—who says you can’t be right along with them?” 

He bumped his forehead with yours, smiling emerald eyes gazing into your own with such love—dizzying and overpowering and so, so warm. With the steady thrum of your heartbeat matching his, you found yourself falling even deeper once again.

“You know me, I can never compromise when it comes to what’s important to me.”

You laugh, something watery, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, temple, cheek, with a last, smiling kiss on your lips.

“How greedy.” He laughs into your lips, pulling away to hold you closer.

“Just for you.”

There’s so many things you could’ve said, as you watched the rest of the night sky fade into the deep blues of dawn. But, you decide, the comforting silence was best left as is, only broken by one resounding comfort.

It’ll be okay.

“You know, it would’ve been nice to know that you had taken the day off before I had that whole guilt spiral last night.”

“It turned out okay though, didn’t it?” He turned back to flash you that cheeky grin of his, half-hidden by his winter coat and backed by the glow of the setting sun. You just rolled your eyes with a laugh before jogging to catch up to him, slipping you hand out of your pocket to interlace your fingers with his.

“Yeah, it did.” 

The walk was silent as you two strolled down the familiar path, winding down after a whole day spent with each other. It was romantic of him, now that you thought about it, to take the whole Valentine’s Day off just for you. You hummed as you leaned onto him, giddy and content at the thought. 

In love, if you were to be so bold.

(Granted, he had to wear a mask and a cap the entire time to hide from the prying eyes of the public, but you made do.)

The sight of aged, familiar scenery pulled you from your musings, and you tugged at his hand to grab his attention, pointing at the quaint bench surrounded by bare gingko trees.

“Hey, wasn’t this the park where you confessed?” At your words, he froze and glanced over at the familiar scenery, eventually burying his face into his free hand with a groan once the old memories clicked in his head.

“Oh, don’t remind me. It’s still embarrassing to look back on.”

“What? I thought you were cute!” You laughed, nudging him to follow as you led him over to the small park, brushing off the dust to sit on the bench before patting the space next to you. Izuku obliged, and you almost automatically curled into his side, as if by habit.

“Did we really walk all the way here from the station?” His disbelieving tone made you look up at him, his expression one of nostalgic awe, before casting your attention back to the aged scenery, humming in agreement as you idly picked out what’s changed and what’s stayed in the years that have passed.

“I guess we never really forget, huh?”

“I forgot the sunset looked the best from here.”

“I hope you didn’t forget all the memories we made here.” He tore his attention from the sunset to gape down at you, scandalized.

“Of course not!” 

“Really?” He arched a brow at the teasing lilt to your voice and the mischievous grin playing at your lips, “So you didn’t forget accidentally firing an Air Force shot at me when we first met because you were training?”

He buried his face in his hands again with another embarrassed groan.

“I hoped you would forget that, at least!” You just laughed, hugging him closer as if to console him from your teasing. Before long, the atmosphere settled back into a quiet reminiscence, indulging in the nostalgia of memories past in this little park. The silence that was once deafening alone, now softened by the comfort of his presence at your side.

“We’ve made so many memories in this park, huh?” At your soft hum of agreement, he continued. Was his voice shaking? “It wouldn’t hurt to make more, would it?”

“What do you me—”

Your question cut itself short as you saw what he held out to you. 

A little velvet box, sitting open in his hand. You dragged your suddenly watery gaze back up to Izuku, his once bashful smile now wobbly with nerves. 

So familiar in this little park, yet so new.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

It was just a small walk down memory lane, the street lights blinking on one by one in the wake of the fiery sunset as you two walked the familiar path together. Yet there was something buzzing anew in the air, humming through your soul as you held out your hand to the sun, admiring the way the gem on your ring finger sparkled in the fading sunset. In the other, you interlaced your fingers with his.

Yeah… 

You caught Izuku’s soft gaze, smiling and in love.

We’ll be okay.

[into-the-linkverse]

Of rupees and Koroks

my first LU fanfiction! I am horrible at endings so...yeah. i definitely went off the rails from my original plan (ADHD my beloved) and I am SO SORRY in advance if any of the characters are OOC.

“Okay, and that would come to…200 rupees, Mr. Captain Hero Sir!” Ravio cheerfully stated, holding up the bottle of shimmering red potion for War to admire. The warrior actually scoffed upon hearing the intended price.

“Something wrong, War?” Legend asked, his back leaning against a rather large crate.

“No, no, it’s just…really cheap.” War pointed towards the potion. Both Legend and Ravio blinked blankly. Legend’s face soon turned into one of severe confusion, whereas Ravio’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“200 rupees? Cheap? Were you hit in the back of the head by a bulbin?!” Twilight almost shrieked from his side of the Barnhouse He stopped playing with the cows and quickly jogged over to Ravio’s makeshift shop.

“Back home, a red potion would cost around 10,000 rupees. Isn’t that the case here?” War stated eyebrow raised as Twilight began twitching at the mention of the rupee count. Ravio’s jaw practically dropped.

“My wallet can’t even hold that!”

“Hey, I heard screaming. Who’s dead?” The barn’s door creaked open to reveal Wind, accompanied by a sweating Sky and an unfazed Four.

“War said a red potion would cost 10,000 rupees in his world!” Legend blurted out, almost barking at the heroes. Four huffed for a second, then walked up to Ravio and snatched the red potion.

“Hey, 200 rupees, y’know!”

“This. Costs 20 rupees.” He pointed at the potion, as War soon broke down in a fit of laughter.

“What’s so funny, pretty boy?” Legend folded his arms.

“You guys must be broke! 20 rupees? That can’t buy you shit!” He managed to get out before banging his fist against the hay covered ground.

“Hey, watch your language!” Sky shouted, moving to cover Wind’s pointy ears. “There are children here.” He lowered his voice as Wind swatted his hands away.

“Okay, okay, I’m trying to run a business here. Let’s go…2,000 rupees, Mr. Captain Hero Sir!” Ravio clasped his hands together, only to realize the item he was selling was nowhere on the table.

“Um…Mr. Smithy? My red potion?”

“Oh, sure.” Four passed the glittering potion back to the purple-haired hero, acting as if he wouldn’t be committing a crime if he didn’t hand it back.

“Here you go, Mr. Captain Hero Sir! Please come again!” Ravio smiled gleefully, having 2,000 rupees handed to him like it was nothing.

“Pfft- I guess War really is a rich snob.” Twilight sniggered, shaking hands with Legend in a mutual agreement.

“Hey, you take that back, farmers!” War shouted, fiddling with his glove as if preparing for a fight.

“War, you realize you’re saying that on a ranch?” A voice called from outside. The door was already opened (Wind forgot to close it) so it was easy to tell that the voice belonged to Time.

“Oh, hey, pops, wanna help us take on pretty boy?” Twilight greeted happily, only making Warriors more enraged.

“No, I’m quite fine. But thank you for the offer anyway. Hyrule asked me to collect you all. He’s having trouble with something. And for Nayru’s sake, behave yourselves.” Time explained to the group, trying not to bring up the fact that he almost locked them in the barn to keep them out of trouble.

“What do you mean “something”? I thought nothing happens on this ranch!” Wind protested, running his hands through his hair, obviously trying to make himself more presentable.

“I have no clue what the deal is myself. Wild and Hyrule are already investigating.”

“Those two? They were better hosts than us?” Warriors looked almost horrified at the idea of being upstaged by Wild of all people.

“Do you want to be cooped up in here all day?” Time asked, almost laughing at War’s sudden reaction.

“Come on, let’s get moving now!” Warriors announced, starting to direct (push) the other heroes out of the barnhouse.

Hyrule was ecstatic. He’d been picking up stray rocks for weeks in hopes to find the small beings called Koroks. Wild had told him all about the strange little creatures that hid under rocks and in trees, and Hyrule soon became intent to find one. At last, at the gates of Lon Lon ranch, Hyrule mindlessly picked up a rock and proceeded to shout in happiness.

“Wild! Wild! I found one!” He cried, perking the ears of the long-haired Hylian. Wild rushed over, practically throwing the Cucco he was holding. He jogged over, only to stop a few feet away from the brown-haired hero.

Hyrule’s eyes were alight with glee, his smile looked like an innocent rabbit’s. He tossed the rock aside, unfortunately landing on Wild’s foot, as he winced. He placed the rock to the side and crouched down to the Korok’s level.

“Yahaha, you’ve found me!” The Korok excitedly squealed, Wild rolling his eyes as he heard the line for the 400thtime. Hyrule nodded in response, too glad to speak and ruin the moment. Before he knew it, Hyrule was handed a small, foul seed. He looked confused for a second and looked up to Wild.

“Yeah…not that impressive, is it?” He sighed, snatching the seed from Hyrule, and adding to his collection. Hyrule blinked as he saw Wild open to pouch to see a mountain of the horrid smelling things. “Gotta get these back to Hestu sometime.” He casually stated, closing his pocket again.

“Buh-bye!” The Korok exclaimed, waving his small, rounded hand towards the two Hylians. Hyrule was not having this. He had spent two weeks searching for the little creatures, and when he does, he’s just supposed to say good-bye after minutes of meeting one? He reached out his arms and took the Korok up to his torso in one swift movement.

“I shall name him Peppers and he shall be mine!” Hyrule proclaimed loudly, much to Wild’s shock. He tried to wrangle the Korok out of Hyrule’s embrace, but the Korok spoke up.

“Actually, I’d love to be Mr. Hero’s friend!” It chirped, sinking into Hyrule’s green tunic. “Aw, see? He likes me!” Hyrule cuddled the Korok, adding a whiny tone to his words. Wild groaned, as he almost felt like Time, having to take care of someone like this.

“You’ll have to ask Time if we can keep it.” He sighed, poking the pointy nose of the leaf faced spirit. As if from nowhere, armored footsteps approached the two Hylians. “Keep what?” The firm voice spoke, making Wild jump for a moment.

“The Korok…?” Hyrule trailed off, still clutching the forest spirit. As the chain came into sight, some stood dumbstruck, whereas Wind’s eyes widened drastically. “Korok!?” The pirate pointed; mouth open wide as he bolted to Hyrule. “What in Din’s name is a Korok?” War groaned; his breath slightly hilted from jogging across the ranch.

“I’m not sure myself…but it definitely looks cute!” Time let slip a small remark of childish nature, a warm smile creeping up on his face. Legend soon ran up to his descendant and grabbed the Korok out of his hands.

“Where’s this little bugger from anyway?” He mumbled, turning the spirit face down to have a proper look at it. He furrowed his brow, then turned to Ravio, gestured to see if the rabbit hero had any clue about the creature. Ravio simply shrugged at him. “Hey! He isn’t some toy to be held like that!” Twilight shouted, scooping up the Korok from Legend’s hands. He held it carefully on his shoulder as one would a cat, as the Korok began playing with Twilight’s hair.

“I’m the best at dealing with animals here. I say we keep it,” Twilight nodded as the Korok’s hands started folding braids into his hair. “Peppers.” Hyrule quickly added, placing a hand on the little Korok’s back. “What’s this about p-peppers?!” Four almost leapt out of his skin after hearing “peppers”. Wild simply laughed and wrapped an arm around him.

“His name is Peppers!” Hyrule said once again, a smile dawning on his face. “Why peppers, though?” Four protested, his disdain for the food clear as day. Wind coughed a bit, trying to hold in a laugh. Sky gave him a light pat on the head and shook his head, mouthing “don’t”.

“Well, I think it’s a great name! Did…Did Wild pick it out?” Sky laughed wistfully, trying to discourage Wind from making fun of Four. “Nope, completely ‘Rule’s idea.” Wild answered, causing Four to instead eye Hyrule suspiciously. Legend folded his arms and let out a huff as Ravio giggled behind him. “Perhaps he’d be interested in renting?” Legend twisted around as Ravio flatly suggested.

“No one in their right mind would be interested in renting, Ravio.” He scoffed, turning back to face the rest of the chain. “I, personally, don’t want it. What if it steals our items and flees in the night?” War accused, pointing a finger towards the creature. A paranoid Warriors, Time couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, the Korok’s come from the Lost Woods. They’re the children of the Great Deku Tree, so I’d doubt they’d do that.” Wild explained, peaking the attention of Time. If the Korok’s were from the Lost Woods, he would have seen some by now, wouldn’t he? Or maybe they only showed up far after his era…

“Wait! You’ve met the Great Deku Tree too?!” Wind’s small figure jumped up, tugging on Wild’s tunic. Twilight eyed the older hero for a moment, he seemed…off. Korok still in arms, he strode up to Time and placed his free hand on his shoulder. “You alright, dad?” Time snapped out of his state of thought and quickly waved it off.

“I’m fine, just…glad that the Deku Tree still exists to them, I guess.” Time replied wistfully, his gaze trailing to the two blue-clad heroes, sharing their experiences with the ancient talking tree. “He was the…closest thing I had to a father.” His next comment caught Twili completely off guard. Does that mean he was related to a tree?

“Wait, your dad was a tree?! Are you joking?” Twilight exclaimed a bit too loudly, catching the attention of Four and Sky, who had been watching the unfolding chaos. Sky’s eyes widened immensely, full of curiosity as he quickly trotted over.

“Time’s father? A tree? My, that must be an interesting story!” Sky clasped his hands together in delight, eager to learn more about the mysterious Time.

“No, the Deku Tree was the closest thing to a father I ever had. I am not part tree.” Time had to hold back a snicker as he clarified that he was not of leafy descent. “I doubt that. Your hair is a very light shade of green.” Four pointed out, raising a hand to his chin in deep thought.

“I think that colour’s called yellow, dumbass.” Wind called from where he stood. Sky growled for a moment then proceeded to shout back: “Watch your language!”

For the rest of the evening, the chain shouted and argued, but settled on to keeping the Korok, naming it Peppers, much to Four’s disgust.

@bokettochild I hope you don't mind I borrowed Ravio's nicknames for everyone :)

[emitheduck]

So. We're Soulmates? (Bucky x Reader)

A/N: my first soulmate AU, and I figured it was finally time, and bucky deserved one lol. no spoilers whatsoever

Soulmate AU where you have your soulmate’s birthday tattooed on your arm ---

March 10th, 1917.

(Y/n) had always thought, there was no possible way that the universe had ever, ever gotten her soulmate’s birthday right. When everyone was celebrating that their soulmate was around the same age as them, she got to look down in horror as she could practically see her soulmate’s life fly by. There was legitimately no possible way that her soulmate would even still be alive.

The rules of the soulmate were strange, and no one ever understood them or questioned them. It was found out sometime in the 80s that the dates on peoples forearms weren’t random--but the birthday of their soulmate. Because the universe was a cosmic nightmare, when someone’s soulmate died, the numbers went with them.

That’s what made this so strange.

Either (Y/n)’s soulmate was hanging onto life support, or the universe had fucked up and decided it was going to trick her into thinking she could find happiness like everyone else.

She had these feelings up until she got the faithful call one day, that she had landed the job with SHIELD and found out that she would be working in the helicarrier during the attack on New York. And that’s how she met Steve Rogers.

“You know, it’s kind of funny.” Steve sighed with a chuckle, shaking his head as he followed (Y/n) who was leading him to where he would be staying.

“What is?” She asked as she typed in the access code for one of the doors as they walked.

“The number on your arm. That’s my friend’s birthday.” Steve was smirking as he walked into his room. “I mean, it was his birthday.”

(Y/n) looked down at the date on her arm and sighed, her hand instinctively covering the date. “You sure he’s dead? Not some hundred-year-old veteran in a nursing home that you haven’t checked in on or something?” She was trying her best to not sound horrible for joking about his friend's death, but he seemed almost amused by her banter.

“Last I checked, he’s dead. I watched him fall off the train and everything.” He told her as he sat down on the edge of his bed. “His name was Bucky.” He told her as she turned around to leave, watching her stop for a moment to listen before she left.

Steve’s words always lingered in the back of her mind ever since that day on the helicarrier. She had seen the Bucky memorial spot in the museum, and the day she found out that he was alive, she would never forget (mostly because when it happened, she had dropped the bottle of wine she was holding on the floor and spent hours picking up tiny shards of glass).

The year was now 2023. Five years after the blip, and (Y/n) now fully retired from SHIELD. She left on good terms, but the years of working were just exhausting. Especially now that she came back after vanishing for five years and had to rebuild her life all over again. At least they were respectful, and were happy to give her the pay that she had missed out on.

It was hard enough having to deal with knowing all your close friends sacrificed themselves for the whole world, and not being able to do anything about it. That was the reason that kept her up most nights. The guilt of feeling like she could have done something, but never got the chance to, was the hardest feeling.

That’s what led (Y/n) to walking aimlessly around the grocery store at almost 2am. When she couldn’t sleep, sometimes the best thing to do was walk around pushing the cart and praying that the LED lights would calm her down enough to go home and face the empty apartment.

What she didn’t expect was turning the corner of the frozen section and crashing her cart into someone elses. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention.” (Y/n) apologize as she looked at the man in front of her. “I should have been looking. I guess I’m just tired.”

“I’m probably just tired too.” He chuckled, pulling his cart away from hers. Both the carts were empty anway. “You come here to walk around at night too?”

“How could you tell?” (Y/n) laughed, running a hand through her hair as she looked him over. He looked familiar, and knowing her luck he was some assassin that was stalking her, and came here to finish the job.

He motioned to their empty carts with a bob of his head. “Something about just pushing the carts around and listening to the crappy music makes me feel better too.” He smirked as he never broke eye contact. “Also, people normally buy food when they’re shopping.”

(Y/n) sighed, nodding. “You caught me. I’m just here to wander.”

“It’s okay. I am too. Sometimes staring at the TV isn’t enough.” He mumbled, shaking his head as he broke eye contact to look where his hands were gripping the handle of the cart. “Sorry, I’m just rambling I guess.”

“No, I get it.” She laughed it off, knowing it was late and sometimes people just kept talking when they were tired. “My names (Y/n).” She smiled, holding out her hand for him to shake.

He seemed to hesitate, but reached out and shook her hand. “My name’s Bucky.”

She could feel her mouth go dry. “Bucky?” There was just no, possible way that this was the man who has been in the back of her mind for years on end.

“I’m guessing you know who I am.” He muttered, already preparing himself to turn around and forget this interaction never happened. “Sorry, I should go.”

“Wait! No, I didn’t mean it like that.” (Y/n) exclaimed as she held her hands out to stop him from leaving. “I just have heard so much about you--not the way you think, it sounds so weird. I talked to Steve about you once, way back before the battle of New York.”

She peaked his interest at the mention of Steve. “You knew Steve?”

(Y/n) nodded. “He told me all about you. Look, I even have your birthday on my arm.” She told him, lifting up her sleeve to show him the date on her arm, watching his eyes go wide out of shock. “Steve liked to always tease me that I had your birthday, and I always told him that I probably had some old man, sitting in some hospital bed, decaying before our eyes. Wow, I am rambling, I am so sorry. I should leave.” She was bright red as she decided to just leave her cart where it was and accept the humiliation and leave.

“No, you don’t have to go.” Bucky told her, gently grabbing her arm to stop her from leaving. “I guess now that you showed me yours, I’ll show you mine.” He grinned as he let go of her arm, using his left hand to pull up his long sleeve. There on his arm, in bold black numbers was (Y/n)’s birthday clear as day.

“Do you maybe want to go get coffee at that 24 hour place across the street? We might have a bit we need to talk about.” She was dumbfounded. Steve would always tease and joke, telling her that Bucky was her soulmate just because it was the same birthday on her arm. But due to the fact that he was presumed dead for so long, (Y/n) never thought anything of it.

“Are you going to come inside? I’ve been holding the door open for almost a minute.” Bucky asked, laughing a little uncomfortably as he watched the woman just stand at the door of the diner. She didn’t even remember the walk to get there.

(Y/n) blinked, rubbing her eyes as she nodded and walked inside. The sign said seat yourself, and she found a nice seat by the window for the two of them. “Sorry. I guess I’m just a little speechless.”

He chuckled as he shifted in the booth. “I’ll be honest. Me too.”

“So. We’re soulmates.” She shrugged, feeling uncertain of herself. Finding her soulmate was never the first thing on her mind, because she never actually thought that she would find him. Sure, the universe also had a way of making the two cross paths at some point, but because of the age, she never cared.

“When I used to see the date on my arm, I thought it was a joke.” He told her, mumbling that he wanted a coffee when the waiter walked over and asked what they wanted. “She wants a coffee. Two cream, one sugar.” He said as the other man nodded and walked away.

“How did you know my coffee order?” She asked with a raise of her eyebrow.

Bucky opened his mouth like he was about to speak but sighed. “I legit have no idea. My brain was working for me, and it just came out.”

(Y/n) laughed. “I mean, we’re cosmically linked so it does make sense.” The coffee was set down in front of them and she smiled as she held onto the mug. “Is this when I ask if you can tell me about yourself?”

“Where do I start?” He asked as he set his coffee down after taking a sip. “My name is James Buchanan Barnes, but I go by Bucky. James is only for when shit hits the fan I guess.”

“I think I prefer Bucky.” She smiled, watching as his cheeks turned red for a moment.

“What about you Doll? What fun thing do you have to tell me?” Bucky asked her with a smirk, making it her turn to blush.

“I worked for SHIELD, that’s where I met Steve. But then there was that time we found out that Hydra was inside of SHIELD, and technically you tried to kill me.” She pointed out, watching as he put his head down in shame. “But that’s all in the past now. I’m not that person anymore.”

He took a sip of his coffee before he spoke. “What changed?”

(Y/n) sighed, shaking her head as she held onto her coffee mug for warmth. “I was pretty close with Steve and Natasha. Tony helped me get the job at SHIELD, too. Three people that I looked up to more than anything, were gone before I ever got a chance to say goodbye.” She told him, knowing that there would be no more tears left to cry. Her tear-ducts seemed to stop working after she had cried for days straight that they were gone.

“I wasn’t very close to anyone but Steve, but I do understand how you feel.” He told her, leaning across the table to rest a hand on her shoulder. “Do you live in the city?”

“I live pretty close to Hell’s Kitchen.” She told him, watching as he nodded. “I’m guessing you live in Brooklyn?”

He looked a little surprised, but still smiled. “How could you tell?”

She smiled back, a little shy. “Some part of me just knew, but the other part of me heard Steve talk about Brooklyn all the time. He loved it there, and I guess I thought you did too.”

“It’s definitely still amazing, but a lot has changed. I’m still getting used to it all.” Bucky confessed, putting down some money for the coffee as they both finished and stood up from the table.

(Y/n) checked her phone and sighed at the time. 3:30 in the morning, and there was no way she was going to sleep now. Now, she was going to ride the train and hope that the rocking of the subway would be enough to turn her mind off for a while. “I should get going. It’s getting late, and I’m taking the train back.”

He nodded, seeming a little uneasy that she was about to leave. “Do you maybe want my number? We could meet up someday, maybe get to know eachother better?”

She grinned as she handed him her phone. “Put your number in.” She told him as they traded phones, smirking as she put in her contact. “I put my information as (Y/n)-Soulmate, just in case you seemed to forget.”

“Oh trust me, I don’t think I’ll ever forget.” Bucky chuckled as he looked at her contact. “Promise you’ll call?”

“Considering the fact I’ve known you for a few hours, and I’m already completely head-over-heels for you, I don’t think you have to worry.” (Y/n) told him, leaning up and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Bye for now, but not bye forever.”

Bucky was grinning like an idiot, and he knew it. “I like the sound of that. I still just can’t believe I found you after all these years.”

“You better believe it, because you’re going to be seeing a lot more of me from now on.”

MASTERLIST

[condorclaw]

Waiting.

It's what Sam Nook was the best at.

The large mechanical creeper spent his days standing outside the towering structure of the Big Innit Hotel, keeping watch for potential customers, or potential troublemakers.

"Don't you ever get tired of standing here?" Jack Manifold had asked one day after a hostile confrontation between the two employees.

The answer was always no. Sam Nook never got tired of guarding the hotel. The task was never as boring as his peers made it seem. In fact, it was an exciting experience.

Sam Nook had been downloaded with the basic information of every server member, learning their names, heights, and basic personality traits with ease. However, the simple information couldn't compare to all he had noticed while speaking with them himself.

They all had their own stories to tell, and their own experiences to share. While standing guard, sometimes somebody would stop to speak with Sam Nook. Regardless if it was out of pity or for a genuine conversation, Sam Nook appreciated the gesture.

Captain Puffy would tell Sam Nook tales of her adventures, going into great detail when describing the scenery. It gave Sam Nook a thirst of adventure, making him feel like he was actually experiencing the harsh waves of the sea or the burning rays of the sun.

Eret regaled Sam Nook with history stories of their home. They would especially emphasize the horrible bits, including their traitorous actions as a leading cause for so much pain. Sam Nook could tell Eret still felt guilt after all this time, so as soon as Eret would finish their stories, Sam Nook offered the king a hug, which was gladly accepted.

Ranboo and Tubbo didn't have as many stories to share about the past, preferring to discuss what was happening in current moments. It was how Sam Nook became so fine-tuned to the social dynamic occurring, able to recognize specific actions relating to specific causes.

Even Sam himself would stop by frequently, checking up on his creation and making sure that Sam Nook was at tip-top shape. Sam Nook appreciated these check-ups, wanting to perform at his very best for his tasks. As Sam would make adjustments, he would tell Sam Nook small things about his life, and revealed quite a bit that he kept hidden to his other friends. Sam Nook swore to never tell anybody else unless Sam gave him permission. It was the least he could do for his creator.

Even though he was surrounded by such a colorful cast of characters, Sam Nook always looked forward to one in particular:

The big man himself, TommyInnit.

Tommy was loud and brash. He was young, yet experienced with conflict and war, masking it behind crude jokes and fragile confidence.

According to most others, Tommy was annoying and often unwanted. He was the source of problems and too impulsive for his own good. Sam Nook had occasionally heard mutterings of people wanting to ignore him or just shut him away somewhere. To an outsider, it sounded like Tommy was just some rabid stray animal who couldn't be caught.

But Tommy was more than that, and Sam Nook could see it firsthand. Tommy was passionate, loving to show off his accomplishments to his friends and being proud that he was the one able to do them. He took pride in the little things, and would frequently hype himself up when requested to perform tasks. Sam Nook was surprised at how quickly Tommy was able to get hotel materials, the boy being quite passionate to finish the build.

Outside of hotel work, the two had nice conversations. Tommy would curl up at Sam Nook's side, watching the stars in the sky and venting about his feelings. Tommy would always deny it whenever Sam Nook would bring his words up after that point, but it did warm Sam Nook's circuits to know how much Tommy trusted him to tell the robot these things in the first place.

After all, Sam Nook was built to be Tommy's guardian, and he took pride in that.

So Sam Nook was fine to wait.

--

Waiting.

It was a lovely day, with animals gathering in groups to scrounge for food. The sun was shining as bright as ever, and the few clouds in the sky twisted into funny shapes.

Sam Nook activated his cameras, taking a couple shots of the gorgeous scenery. He mentally stashed the photos away in a specific directory, one meant for Tommy.

Ever since Tommy had become trapped in Pandora's Vault, Sam Nook found himself recording his surroundings every minute of every day. Tommy was missing so much being trapped in a gloomy place, so Sam Nook was determined to show him everything he missed.

As Sam Nook stashed away his last photo, he heard the faint sound of arguing. Turning his head 90° to the left, Sam Nook spotted Jack Manifold speaking to Tubbo, the two deep in some sort of conflict. Ranboo was towering over the two, but remained quiet, listening. The enderman spotted Sam Nook gazing in their direction, giving a nervous wave and a shrug of confusion. Sam Nook returned the wave before shifting his head back forward.

It felt like there was a lot more aggression since Tommy was gone. Normally the kid was so blunt that it made it hard to argue against him. He wasn't always right, but he could end conversations quickly when they weren't worth having.

The heated discussion only got worse as minutes stretched on, Sam Nook catching bits of it, but remained still. It was only the final shout of "FINE!" that caused Sam Nook to look over once more.

Jack Manifold passed in front of Sam Nook, his teeth clenched and his eyes narrowed as he made his way to the entrance of the hotel.

"WHAT BUSINESS DO YOU HAVE HERE, JACK MANIFOLD." Sam Nook questioned as the hotel cats started gathering by the robot's feet.

"Relax," Jack Manifold snarled, rolling his eyes. "I'm just doing a bit of redecorating. If Tommy doesn't like that, then he can tell me himself." Before Sam Nook could formulate a response, Jack Manifold had gone up the ladders in a hurry.

Sam Nook let out a huff of steam, focusing his attention on some of the cats that wandered around the hotel. Jack Manifold wasn't a good employee. He was only focused on keeping the hotel to himself, which didn't belong to him. It belonged to TommyInnit, as much as Jack Manifold tried to deny that.

Thankfully, Tommy was scheduled to be released in a few days. The news had initially made Sam Nook upset when Sam had told him, but Sam Nook immediately cheered up at the thought of Sam being with Tommy. Sam liked Tommy a lot, Tommy wouldn't be alone!

So Sam Nook was fine to wait.

--

Waiting.

It was a stormy day, rain pouring down from the sky, almost as if the clouds were crying. Sam Nook didn't understand why it had to be such a gloomy day. After all, Tommy's first days out of prison should be happy!

Sam Nook hadn't seen Tommy once since the boy was scheduled for release, but that didn't worry him. Tommy was probably very busy reconnecting with all his friends. Eventually he'd come see Sam Nook.

The sound of Sam Nook's own shuttering cameras snapped the robot out of the slight daze he was in. The image was lovely, with red and white flowers spread all along the grass at the side of the path. Sam Nook didn't understand where these flowers were coming from, but they were very beautiful. He could only imagine Tommy's reaction to the gorgeous plants. Tommy would pretend to hate it at first, but would later go and water them all himself.

Out of the darkness of the rain, Sam Nook saw Ranboo and Jack Manifold emerge from one of the buildings. The two didn't appear to be engaging in conversation, and appeared rather sad. They continued walking until they stopped at the gates to the Big Innit Hotel, Jack Manifold opening them slowly.

Ranboo gave a slow wave to Sam Nook, who gave one in return. Ranboo had changed over the last few days. His normally colored eyes were slightly duller, and in his jacket pocket, a purple flower peaked out. Sometimes the enderman's hand would go to it, lighting stroking the flower's petals as if it were a pet.

Sam Nook was very curious about it, but there was still time to ask Ranboo about it in the future.

The more urgent concern was Jack Manifold, who was approaching the front of the hotel. Sam let out a few clicks, shifting his trident in his hands threateningly. Jack Manifold had been vandalizing the hotel lately, and Sam Nook wouldn't allow him to do it again.

Despite all the other times Sam Nook had threatened him however, Jack Manifold looked up at Sam Nook, looking weaker than ever. His eyes were glazed over too, and his form was drenched with rain. When he spoke, his words were soft. "Sorry, Sam Nook. I broke something yesterday. I'm just here to fix it."

In shock, Sam Nook didn't even reply to Jack Manifold as he climbed up the ladders. Jack Manifold was a liar sometimes, but that there had been the honest truth. It didn't make sense. Why now?

"Sam Nook."

The robot turned quickly, coming face-to-face with his creator. Sam's green had paled, and his armor no longer looked as shiny as it once had. It worried Sam Nook too, but Sam knew what he was doing. He could take care of it easily.

"HELLO, AWESAMDUDE. WELCOME TO THE BIG INNIT HOTEL."

Sam flinched at the hotel's title, perplexing Sam Nook even more. Did he not like the name? He was the one who chose it, though.

"Don't you get tired, standing here?" Sam asked softly, his voice hoarse. "What if Tommy-"

"I COULD NEVER GET TIRED OF MY JOB, AWESAMDUDE. IT IS A GREAT PLEASURE TO WORK ALONGSIDE TOMMYINNIT AT HIS AMAZING HOTEL. WHEN TOMMY COMES BACK, HE WILL BE VERY HAPPY."

Sam shut his eyes, his fists clenched at his side as if he was in pain. There was silence between the two for a couple of seconds.

"Yeah," Sam croaked out, tears starting to well up in his eyes. "He'll be very happy with this. Thank you, Sam Nook."

Sam Nook had never felt happier. Tommy would be very happy with his hotel, and together they could beat out the competition! Sam was right!

"THANK YOU, AWESAMDUDE. PREPARE FOR THE BIG INNIT HOTEL TO RULE THIS SERVER."

Sam nodded slowly, his mouth open, with only short puffs of breath coming out. Exhaling, he looked up, gave a polite bow to Sam Nook, and departed. Jack Manifold left shortly after Sam as well, only giving a quick farewell to the robot.

The sky may have looked like it was crying, but that didn't change Sam Nook's mood. The sky was crying out of joy, surely! The server couldn't wait for TommyInnit to return to his hotel, and neither could Sam Nook.

So Sam Nook was fine to wait. 

[redorich]

It stays in the pit

TW: sparring, weapons, cuts, fighting, hallucinations, minor mention of blood, angst

Hey it’s Split again! Follow me maybe? @split-em I have a lot more oneshots like these coming!

I like attention so maybe drop a like if you enjoy this! It’s about Hermit!Tommy sparring False,, but with a twist!!

This actually has so many words my fingers hurt aaaaaaaaa

Hey uh idk how to do a read more,, maybe if you want you can do that again pleasey? Also I love your hermit Tommy stuff keep up the great work!

(redorich here, thank you for the food lol)

‘It stays in the pit.’

Simple words that mean oh, so much.

When you’re reminded of the horrible memories that come with those words WHILE fighting, they mean so much more.

.

The newest build on hermitcraft is an underground, boxing ring style pit. There are stairs leading into a giant room below ground level with audience benches, a storage room with every different kind of weapon and armour, and a boxing ring in the middle.

When False offered to spar Tommy, she suggested they could do it in the new build that had not yet had its first official match. What made it even better, was that this would be Tommy’s first actual match against False since he first came to the server. She has been training him for months, improving his fighting techniques and strategies. You could say he went under her wing, and now he was ready to spread his own. This was a ‘student duels master’ fight, and the hermits wanted to witness it. They wanted to see how much Tommy had improved.

Though they over exaggerated juuuust slightly, because that sparring suggestion turned into a three (3) round mini tournament, and every single hermit wanted to watch.

Annoyingly bright lights shine down on the otherwise dark, amazingly massive room. The adrenaline in the air is intoxicating; downright addicting. Voices yell loudly, people scream and shout while waving, cameras are out, and Iskall is taking bets by the entrance.

Tommy and False stand across from each other, a confident smirk on each of their faces. The handle of an iron sword is gripped tightly in their hands, and the hermits watching are on the edge of their seats already. Tension mixed with excitement crashes down in waves. It chokes Tommy, but also sends his blood pressure through the roof. He feels like his head is underwater, but he’s walking on clouds. Never in his life has he been so excited yet so scared.

But god, does he want to win.

He exhaled, practically bouncing back and fourth as he waited for the countdown. False’s stare made him break into a cold sweat, but he composed himself. ‘This wouldn’t have been such a big deal if we were alone,’ he thought ‘but this is way more exciting than just fighting on the ground.’

That’s when he heard it.

Tommy looked up. The mayor, Scar, sat higher than any hermit in a chair on a ledge like you’d find in those old time-y theatres. His smile was proud, and he arched with peaked interest. “Holy shit,” Tommy breathed out, glancing back to his opponent “the mayor..”

B-Dub’s voice could be heard shouting with glee. He clearly was just as pumped as the rest of the audience, and you could head the smile in his voice as he counted down through a megaphone.

“Remember, no hard feelings. This is for fun!”

The fighter’s eyes met. False gave him a nod, Tommy looked down at his sword.

“WE ALL GOOD?!”

Tommy was shaking, out of fear or adrenaline he couldn’t tell.

“READY!”

False took in the younger boy, all she could think of was how proud of him she was. Look how far he had came. He went from this quiet and kept to himself boy, to an amazing friend that was full of energy.

“STEADY!”

Impulse looked quite concerned. He didn’t think it would become this big of deal, the sparring offer. But here he sat, chewing on his nails, waiting for what would happen. The rate the energy here made his heart rate increase was higher than any amount of sports drink or red bull could ever manage.

“SET!”

Tommy laughed. He needed to release everything. So he laughed, and felt all his stress melt away. Right now, fight. Right now, focus. Fight like she taught you.

“GO!”

Instantly, the teenager made the first move. No hesitation and certainly no mercy was shown as he swung his sword quick as lightning. It collided with the wood of False’s shield and he was thrown back slightly. False used this to her advantage and advanced on him, slicing horizontally with a small shake of her head.

“FALSE!! GO FALSE!!”

“TOMMY, DODGE!”

Tommy ducked, barely missing the sharp blade, and decided to fake. He stepped forward, jerking the sword forward and waited for False’s shield to come down from it’s position in front of her face before the cold metal cut her shoulder. His next swing was parried, and False managed to make him stumble to the ground as their blades touched and they both pushed with all their might. Cheers rang out, but both fighters knew it wasn’t over.

“WHAT THE-“

“YOU’VE GOTTA BE KIDDING!”

“COME ON KID, LETS GO!”

He saw her raise her sword in the corner of his eye, and in an instant he rolled to the left. Successfully dodging the attack, Tommy quickly put an arrow in a crossbow and hit her..in the wrong arm. “Shit” he hissed. What would Technoblade think of that stupid mistake? False used the pause to take him by surprise and use her other arm to slash him in the thigh with her newly equipped iron axe.

“GET UP, GET UP!”

“COME ON DUDE, GET UP”

He couldn’t. He couldn’t stand. The boy raised one hand, and False stepped away with a smile. If this was anyone else, Tommy would’ve gotten angry. He would’ve cursed them out or spat on their shoe. But this was False, and he knew that smile was one of genuine happiness.

“THE WINNER OF ROUND ONE (1) IS FALSE!”

Screeches and ‘awws’ were muffled in Tommy’s ears by the sound of his heart. He panted, before a dopey grin found it’s way to his face. False helped the other stand, and Cleo was quick to administer healing potions to both of them. “Never let your guard down.” False advised. He could tell she wasn’t mad, but rather in the mood for a quick lesson.

Once the hermit’s noise had died down and the fighters were back in their corners, all healed to full health and full saturation, round two (2) began.

“READY!”

“I’m gonna beat ya, bitch” he swore in his now usual Tommy fashion. False shook her head and couldn’t bite back the chuckle that escaped her

“STEADY!”

“Stop swearing. And, in your dreams.”

“SET!”

“Lets turn this up then, yeah?”

“GO!”

It was different now, they both turned up the heat. They couldn’t help it, it was so much fun to spar and the hermits’ energy only made them feel better and more excited.

Tommy was first again, sprinting towards the older then jumping high with arms gripping an axe above his head. False held her shield up and ran, blocking his attack.

“OH MY GOD!”

“THIS IS NOTHING LIKE LAST TIME”

He slid back with a smirk and their blades collided again. False started running. Tommy loaded a crossbow and advanced, quickly dashing behind her and shooting her back. False hit the ground hard, but held up as she kicked forward and got back on her feet.

“YES! GO FALSE!”

“COME ON TOMMY, DONT TAKE THAT”

“TAKE HER DOWN!”

They ran together, Tommy swung, she dodged, she swung, he jumped out of the way. False blocked an incoming sword swing, but was shocked when she was jerked forward after a fish hook implanted itself in her shirt.

“WHAT??”

“WAIT WHAT”

He cried out, laughing the loudest he had in a long time, as he pulled False towards him with a fishing rod. He pinned her to the ground with his sword pointed to her neck. His grin spanned ear to ear.

“TOMMY!!! WOO LETS GOO!”

“THAT WAS AMAZING HOLY SHIT”

An uproar was heard, people were standing up and others stared in amazement. They totally forgot that was allowed, it seemed. False didn’t really think to use the fishing rod, she didn’t think Tommy would bother to either. But, Etho insisted on it anyway just in case. Same with the crossbow.

False raised a hand, accepting defeat. Tommy helped her up this time, his sweaty palm and bony fingers holding her hand that had knuckles white from her death grip on her sword. Impulse helped Cleo to pass them towels. The break started, and the two returned to their corners once again.

“TOMMY WINS ROUND 2 (2)!”

Tommy popped the cap off his water bottle and chugged it, gasping for breath. He had no idea how tired he was until now. His bones ached and his body screamed to stop, but he payed it no mind once again. He used the towel to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Cleo rubbed a healing potion onto his wounds. “You’re doing amazing, that fishing rod trick was awesome.”

“Thanks, Dream taught me it after I saw him use it in a manhunt.”

He stood back up, babbling on about how ‘all the women are going to be cheering me on when I win.’ False rolled her eyes “focus, Tommy. Women can wait.”

“WOMEN ARE IMPORTANT. I WOULD KNOW, IM A LESBIAN. WAIT, NO-“

“FINAL ROUND!!! THIS IS THE FINAL ROUND!”

Grian and Mumbo sat next to one another, the smaller of the two standing up with his hands on the rail in front of him as he cheered. He wanted to cheer for both, but he supposed for the sake of competition he had to pick a side, and decided he would support his newest friend Tommy. “LETS GOO! COME ON,, WOO!! GO TOMMY!!”

“READY!!”

“Tommy, I want you to know, no hard feelings, okay?” False looked at him. It wasn’t with pity, but friendship. Tommy nodded. “No matter what happens, it stays here.”

“STEADY!!!��

“It stays in the pit.” The moustached man mumbled, arms crossed and watching the two with peaked interest.

“What?” Grian questioned, sending a puzzled glance to the other hermit.

“It stays in the pit. Techno said it to me as a joke, he said it was something his friends said when he and Tommy duelled.” He explained, not taking his eyes off the boxing ring in the centre of the practically stadium-sized room.

“Oh..” Grian thought for a moment, before a smile formed on his face once again.

“SET!!!”

“IT STAYS IN THE PIT, TOMMY!!” He cheered, putting his fist in the air. He tried his hardest to make his voice heard, despite sitting a little ways away.

“What?” Tommy’s voice was small, and his eyes widened. His whole being stood still. Who was that? They didn’t..they didn’t just say..?

“IT STAYS IN THE PIT!!”

His eyes darted around the room, and suddenly the underground room seemed a lot smaller.

Tommy had never considered it a ‘pit.’ To him, it was a just a boxing ring that was below ground level slightly. It had no significance. He didn’t care what it was, he was just happy to have somewhere to fight.

But after hearing that, suddenly he was back in that dammed pit with his damned brother and his damned friends watching him

But after hearing that, suddenly False was no longer across from him

It was Technoblade

“GO GO GO!!!”

His iron sword dropped to the ground. “You killed Tubbo.” A look False had never seen before came across Tommy, and she didn’t know what to think. This wasn’t right.

All he could feel was pure rage. It fuelled his actions. The teen basically flew towards False at full speed. “What-“

“YOU KILLED TUBBO!” She was cut off as Tommy pinned her to the floor, “Tommy stop-“

“SHUT UP!” He spat violently, seeing nothing but red. His skinny hands clenched into fists as he threw punch after punch into her face.

“TOMMY!”

“HEY WHAT THE FUCK, GET HIM OFF”

“GET HIM OUT OF THE RING!” Scar ordered, his voice booming out over the crowds shocked gasps

“YOU BETRAYED POGTOPIA” He shouted, his voice loud and rough. This wasn’t Tommy. His eyes were cold and piercing, his face was flushed “YOU CALLED SCHLATT PRESIDENT, YOU SICK FUCK. YOU BETRAYED US!!” Big, salty tears ran down his cheeks as False’s wrists that attempted to block the punches were twisted. She screeched out in pain.

“ILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!” Tommy knuckles bled, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t stop, he couldn’t stop. All he ever wanted that day was to kill Technoblade. Techno had killed his best friend, and betrayed his own family. He deserved to die. “YOU BETRAYED ME AND WILBUR. I WANT TO KILL YOU!!”

Tommy’s arms were restrained by Etho and Doc. “LET ME GO, LET ME GO!” He trashed and kicked, blinded by anger and hurt. They exchanged horrified glances, and tried to calm him down. Nothing worked.

False was crying. Her eyes were already swelling up and she was just in the purest form of pain. Some hermits comforted her, while others dragged Tommy out of the ring and away from whatever the fuck just happened.

“TOMMY WHAT THE FUCK” he was screamed at by a couple people, while being shaken by the ones that could tell this wasn’t what it seemed.

“Stop it! Stop you’re making it worse! Let me through” Impulse pushed his way through the crowd, eyes widening as he saw the young boy snarling and pulling to get out of the two men’s grips. Tommy looked feral. “Stop crowding him!”

He knelt down and gently shook the other.

“Tommy, you’re in Hermitcraft. Okay? Grian’s here, Impulse is here, False is here. Technoblade is gone. Tubbo is okay. You’re safe, you’re in Hermitcraft.” He sighed with relief as Tommy came to, the anger in his eyes being replaced with tiredness and confusion.

“Wha..” Tommy went to grab his head, only to find his arms restrained. He panicked, “NO DREAM IM SORRY-“

“Calm down! Tommy you’re safe, you are restrained by Doc and Etho right now, okay? You tried to kill False.” Impulse explained

“I what?!” Tommy gasped, still trying to wiggle his way out. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Why would he ever want to kill False?! Last thing he could remember is that he was sparring, then someone shouted something about..

“..the pit.” His voice went quiet. Impulse nodded in understanding. “Technoblade”

“..yeah.” Tommy thought about what happened. He thought False was his brother. He..he tried to hurt False.

.

Back in the audience, Grian sat completely still, staring in shock. Mumbo had a hand clamped over his mouth. The smaller looked to his friend, scared. “Mumbo, Did..did Techno tell you why he duelled Tommy?” He shook his head

“No..but he said Tommy wasn’t happy Techno won. I thought he meant the dude was a sore loser..”

Grian and Tommy exhale in sync, their hearts beating fast and hard, trying to process everything.

“What the fuck did I just do”

—————

This has like,, 2 700 words kill meeee

Well I hope you enjoyed that, I accidentally hyperfixated on the idea of Tommy getting pit flashbacks after reading an ask about it so now it’s 3AM! I got this done in 2 hours!

Should I upload these to Ao3??? Let me know!

[el-moscorrofio-y-el-mercachifle]

CALDERÓN AU— PART 4

New part! Same warning as always!

You can find Part 1 here, Part 2 here, and Part 3 here!

So, on the last post we saw Calderon’s “Break Betty’s Heart” plan starting, and it ended right when “Step One of Phase A: The Ring” was over

Time for “Step Two: Digging the Dagger Deeper.” That’s what Mario is at Armando’s office for as soon as Marcela leaves Armando’s office and Patricia’s excited squeals (no doubt due to Marcela’s amazing ring, just like he expected) fill the building.

In a typical Mario Calderon way, he enters Armando’s office and immediately looks up to see Betty’s door. It’s still ajar, enough so that she can at least get a little vision of what happens. Hopefully she got a peak at Marcela wearing that ring!

He starts telling Armando that yep, he was totally right: that ring was exactly Marcela’s type, that it totally killed her, that he knows her so well, blah blah blah, all things that send the message of “you two are basically soulmates and have such a strong and life-long relationship!”

Obviously not exactly like that. That’d be suspicious and obvious, so, trying to make it sound like a casual convo between two friends, Mario also sneak in the typical mean jokes and funny comments. He also add some little lies there, just for a little spice; some things about other women, like how he thought that if there was going to be any woman to make Armando change his mind, that was going to be Karina Larson, seeing how they seemed all lovey dovey (false!) before the scandal— but nope! Marcela and Armando are definitely stuck with each other. They are the only people who are able to tolerate the other’s horrible moods and still get it that night.

As he talks and looks at Armando’s confused expression, he just prays for Big Airhead Armando to just follow along and understand that it is exactly the plan to make Betty think that it was ARMANDO’S idea to give Marcela the ring and that it was Armando’s pick.

If Armando isn’t understanding (which Mario thinks he does, given how he looks like he wants to pierce his skull with the pen he’s holding) he is silent.

Mario sits on Armando’s desk while they continue talking, near Betty’d door. There is no way that sitting there, ‘casually’ being so close to Betty’s office, she wouldn’t hear.

And he’s totally right. Inside that little, dark office, Betty sits behind her desk, mouse still in hand, and just listens.

It’s… saddening. This isn’t anything that she didn’t know— of course they were going to be married. She knew this before even starting working at Ecomoda. She also knew that Mr. Armando and Ms. Marcela had a strong bond together… it’s impossible that they didn’t, after a lifetime being around each other; living together; working together… they have their lives built around each other.

She knew.

What she feels at that moment is a dull, quiet pain. It doesn’t bring tears to her eyes, and it doesn’t overwhelm her, because there’s nothing to cry or be overwhelmed about. Her physical reaction is limited to her shoulders slumping, the corner of her mouth pulling back (that expression that she does in the show when she doesn’t like something! I wish i could find a pic or a gif to attach here so you know which one I mean) and a lowered gaze.

This isn’t the heartbreak that Calderon was hoping for, because Betty never fully put her heart out.

Remember that in the novela, even when Armando and her start “dating/being lovers”, Betty has a bunch of walls up due to her past experiences. It takes her a while to get more comfortable in the relationship. That is when they actually have a relationship, but before that, Betty was aware that it was all a daydream. She never actually believed she had any chance, and she was happy by just being near him, because he was a fantasy in her daydream and she believed that was all that an ugly woman like her could ever have.

This isn’t a heartbreak because Betty never had any real hopes that he’d like her, unlike in the show when, for example, Hugo mentions that the wedding is approaching, when Adriana Arboleda comes and Armando prefers her over Betty, or when she sees Marcela in the wedding dress. Here, she isn’t anything but the ugly assistant, and she doesn’t think she can ever be something else.

Then why, you must be wondering, is Betty so sad if she never held any hopes? Because she’s seeing the man she loves marrying a woman who he doesn’t love, and that only hurts him, who brings the worst of him, who doesn’t fulfill him, who he doesn’t trust.

Betty’s pain doesn’t come from the breaking of an illusion, as Calderon was expecting, but rather, the sad resignation of seeing someone you love make a terrible mistake and being unable to do anything about it.

She’s sad for Armando, not for herself.

((Btw, have you noticed that this is the second part of Calderón’s overall plan to make Betty fall in love with him, and neither part has had the effect he planned? First she gets suspicious and ancious about the gifts/love letters instead of finding them charming, and now she gets sad for Armando, not for herself! Calderon isn’t good at predicting Betty, uh? Maybe this plays in his favor, or maybe in hers))

Anyways, back in Armando’s office, after the conversation (which is once again mainly driven by Calderon) is over, Mario discreetly signals Armando to leave the office.

Armando, behind gritted teeth, does as told. We’ll be back at what Armando is internally going through at another moment, but first, let’s continue with Mario.

He sees Armando leave, supposedly to go attend something in Production, and Mario tells him that he’ll catch up in a moment, that he needs to do something real quick. Armando leaves, and as soon as he does, Mario goes to Armando’s private restroom. He gets some cologne and fixes his hair and tie; amd looks at himself in the mirror while he chuckles slightly, feeling ridiculous about having to do all this for Vampirín! But ah, no, he’s not actully doing it for her—- he’s actually doing it for his 50 million dollars.

Under that new motivating thought, he decides to put a bit more cologne, just in case. Remember, Mario is very aware of his disadvantageous position because he know Betty’s heart is taken, so unlike Armanfo in yhe show, Mario can’t afford to give a bare minimum (just showing up)

Anyways, this takes him but a min. After that, he gets out of the bathroom and goes directly into the mostrete’s office. He needs to attack asap, when the wound’s still fresh and bleeding.

He knocks on her door and opens it slightly, smiling at her as soon as she raises her sight from the computer. By God, that woman is… barely a woman! He must seriously be paying for some terrible sin he committed in a past life or something.

Anyways, he smiles as he enters the room, sounding casual and relaxed as if je didn’t know anything; as if he didn’t just plan a whole operation to crush that woman. He goes in with the excuse of giving her her daily cards and gifts. He says that now that there’s no secret, he sees no point in trying to hide, so he’d rather give the gifts and cards directly to her. He gets them out of his pocket and extends them to her.

These particular gifts were especially chosen for the ocasion. You see, today “Armando” just gave Marcela a ring, so Mario chose a bracelet (nothing expensive, tho) for Betty. “Armando” gave Marcela a card talking about love and compromise, so Mario gives Betty one talking about how especial and loved she is.

This is because Mario’s intend by making all that show with the ring was to ruin Betty’s self steem. To make herr think “even when Marcela is so bad for him and they despise esch other, she’s got better chances than I do.” Crush her self-worth. Make her feel less of a woman. Then, with Mario’s false praises and empty adorations, reconstruct a barely-there self-steem that revolves around him (he can be her validation— make her dependent on his approval since no one else gives it).

Mario is actually very proud of this plan, because all this crushing will be done without making a devil out of Armando (they can’t risk her hating him, either!) or himself. For now, of course. Everything has to fall apart eventually, just like in the original plan in the show, and then she’ll realize the truth, but by then it won’t matter, tho.

((I’m making mario to be a huge ass in this AU, but remember, Mario doesn’t actually enjoy harming— he just doesn’t care if he harms when he has to! Still an ass, but not a sadistic ass!))

Anyway, back to the story: Betty sees these gifts, and doesn’t really know what to do or say. She was hoping for don Mario to stop doing this after she caught him, but it seems that he is now only more determined.

Let me explain: as I said in an earlier post (im losing track over where i say stuff lol… or pverall ehat I’ve already said. Hopefully im not talking in circles) Betty loved Armando’s cards and terrible dates because they came from him, not the letters and the ugly dates themselves. He is the element that made the difference, and here, that element is missing, therefore, she isn’t loving the cards. She kind of liked that the gifts, while they were still anonymous, were a fuel to her fantasies, but that’s it.

Mario sees her hesitation, and encourages to take them and open the box where the bracelet is. She does, still hesitating. God, how tiresome can that woman be?

Betty is surprised at seeing the bracelet. It’s beautiful, of course, but she can’t accept it. He’s her boss! She’s an assistant and he’s a vicepresident. This isn’t ethical. She tells him so.

He says that she shouldn’t take this as a gift from a boss. Take it as a gift from a friend…

He smiles tenderly, and says for her to not be so shy, to take it, that it’s a gift from the heart. She’s uncomfortable, and he can tell, but he needs to keep pushing slightly…

He tells her to try it on (i think Calderon is coming across as too pushy, but he’s actually being incredibly gentle; tone soft and all tender smiles. He’s dealing with a scaredy-cat, after all!), and, at her hesitation, he gently takes the bracelet, opens the clip, and asks for her wrist to put it on. She stands up and complies, her face still showing uncertainty.

Mario is careful here. They still have the whole desk separating them, of course. He takes her hand, and is soft and careful as he puts the bracelet on. He makes no attempt to touch her more than the absolutely necessary. He doesn’t want to come across as too intense.

This bracelet is pretty simple and discreet, but beautiful. It has a B right in the middle. B for Betty, of course.

She has no way of knowing that two years ago, that was a B for Bárbara, and before that, it was a B for Bella. Now it’s a B for Betty.

Mario sees that her eyes don’t light up in excitement as she examines the bracelet. Of course they don’t; she’s sad because her impossible crush id getting married! But Mario has to play dumb.

He asks if everything is alright; if he offended her somehow. She says he didn’t, that everything is fine, but that he shouldn’t have bothered. That this isn’t proper. Truth is, Betty is very uncomfortable and doesn’t know what to do.

Not going to go into detail; y’all know how insistent Betty can be. Assume there was some back and forth in this. Obviously Calderon never loses his temper and remains gentle and smiling when appropriate (unlike Armando when Betty is insistent), but he does find it secretly annoying that she doesn’t just accept and bows down to him, as any ugly woman “should” when a handsome millionaire suddenly gets interested in her.

Anyways, Calderon asks if the issue is that Betty doesn’t believe his good-hearted intentions. He wants to know how she’s taking this whole thing.

He sees her hesitating, but directly says that she doesn’t undertand what are Mario’s intentions.

And so, Mario smiles, and answers her:

“En realidad, Betty, usted me gusta mucho.”

And theeeeere we have it!! Next part ready!! Lol Calderon without his witty and funny dialogues is striaght up q piece of sh lol i meannn, he’s always a great cabrón, but without his funny jokes and his natural charm and his handsome face, there’s nothing hiding how disgusting he is, uh?

I hope y’all edon’t like comsistency cuz y’all are going to find none of that here lol

[ghostiiiee]

Just Like Me

To read at my Ao3 CLICK HERE This is the first chapter. sorry is its a little rough. :sweatdrop:

Almost forgot! Tw: i will be going heavy on quirkless discrimination and mental health issues. Theres not much in the first chapter but i do want to touch on it at some point.

School was never something he looked forward to. After all, what was there to look forward to? He was used to getting bullied, made fun of for being different, called names, shoved around. The irony wasn’t lost on him. Many years ago, maybe he would have been the normal one? 

Then again, what even was normal?

It used to be normal to go to school- learn history, math, science and whatever language the school taught. 

It used to be normal to not have any powers, after all -  superheroes were a dream. Stories people made up to tell themselves. Heroes existed, yes, but they never had powers. Heroes were just people, average people. 

Again, there's another word that's changed. Average. 

Normal. Average. 

Two hundred years ago, it was normal for the average person to look human.

Two hundred years ago, it was normal  for the average person to have no powers.

Two hundred years ago, it was normal for superheroes to only be a thing of stories.

That was two hundred years ago. Not now.

Now it's weird to not have powers.

Now you get bullied for being regular. Quirkless.

One of 20%. 

Mathematically, he thought it was stupid that so many people get treated so differently. He did remember Mr. Lancer telling him of people getting treated for less. Mr. Lancer told him two hundred years ago, 10% of the population was seen as satanic because of what hand they used to write with. A similar estimated percent was discriminated against because of who they loved, or what they identified as. 

“Sadly, Mr. Fenton, the human race has a history of not tolerating those who they see as a minority.”

“I remember that from history Mr. Lancer.” Danny sighed, leaning his head on his hand. His eyes stared out the window, looking at the stormy weather. “I remember you talking about how things used to be.”

The teacher pursed his lips, staying quiet and looking at him with concern.

Lancer had asked Danny to stay after class to speak to him. He never did like how Daniel’s peers would gang up on him after school ended. The best he could usually do was this. Casper’s principal was... far too likely to be accepting of anything the more wealthy students’ parents had to say.

“Is that why you’ve been spacing out all day then, Danny?” 

It was asked gently. Danny’s eyes glanced over to the balding teacher before darting back to the window. He hummed for a moment. “...Kinda. I got a lot on my mind.”

“Penny for your thoughts then?” Lancer pulled his chair next to his desk.

It was quiet for a few minutes, the sound of rain gently pattering against the classroom windows filled the room while Danny collected his thoughts. Blue eyes watched raindrops roll down the glass.

“I don’t get it, Mr. Lancer.” His voice was quiet as the floodgates opened. “Everyone in my family has quirks. Dad is strong. My mom can copy anyone’s fighting styles just by watching. Jazz can look at someone and-.... well you know.” He sank down into his chair. “Aunty A, even has a quirk. I've never seen her miss a shot. And then there's me. Daniel James Fenton. The first quirkless person in our family in a long time. Don’t get me wrong either, it doesn’t bother me too much.” Liar. “It’s just... it feels like the cherry on top of everything else.

“My parents got an invitation to teach some classes at UA in Japan. In Japan, I've never lived anywhere but here. Amity Park. It’s not like they can leave me here. PLUS, Jazz has always wanted to go there for the General studies.”

“I understand your concern, Danny. But I’ve seen your work,” There was slight amusement in Mr. Lancers voice. “Aren’t you good at building things? I know I’ve caught you tinkering with something more than once in class.”

Danny’s face flushed red. “...My parent’s usually make those. They’re old models of support gear they have made. I was seeing if I could get a glitch out.”

“And?”

“...I keep shocking myself.” He mumbled. “It hurts like hell.”

“While I can’t say I’m happy that you are getting injured. As long as you are safe, I'm glad.” Mr. Lancer offered a smile to the teen. “As for the other predicament, you are always open to contact me if you need me after you move.”

“Thank you Mr. Lancer.”

~~~~~~~

Danny was thankful that they moved over the summer and not in the middle of the year. School was already hectic enough as was. Moving in the middle of the year was not something he ever wanted to do, let alone moving across the globe in the middle of the year.

He kept to himself for the first few weeks. He liked to walk around, exploring the new area. It felt different than Amity park. More crowded. He noted early on there was definitely more hero around too. It didn’t bother him too much.

That's a lie.

More heroes means more villains.

He didn’t like villains.

He also didn’t like being a hostage.

Lucky him!

He was held hostage by a villain not even before the end of the second week. Not that this was a first time experience for him, having been a favorite target back in Amity Park. He knew all the heroes back home personally because of it. People just loved to take quirkless people hostage. One would think, with the target that seems to hang over his head, that Daniel James Fenton wouldn’t take such risks as walking around alone at night. One would think that if he did, it would be out of necessity, and he would at least have something on him to defend himself.

...yeah no that's not the case. Why in the world would that be the case?

Danny was shoved onto the ground, air leaving his lungs as he hit. He gasped for air, trying to look at who was targeting him now. He couldn’t really tell much about the person, ratty clothes and a hoodie pulled up to cover their face. Nothing could be seen under the hood, it was just shadow, pure, black shadow.

“What’s a runt like you doing out right now?” The villain crouched next to Danny. Chuckling when he tried to scoot away. They put a foot on one of Danny’s wrists, “Ah-ah. Now that’s rude. I’m talking to you punk.”

Danny didn’t respond, wincing at the pressure on his arm. 

“It’s rather rude to ignore your elders.” The villain put more pressure, adjusting so they were crouched like a vulture next to prey.

“F-fuck you. I’ve seen worse.” He growled

The regret in saying that was nearly instant. In the blink of an eye, the ground next to his head - that was solid concrete what the hell- was shattered. The villain was making an inhuman noise, a low gutteral sound coming from them. “You haven’t seen my worst. I wasn’t gonna do much to ya, but I’m starting to change my mind kid.”

He knew he should do anything else - he was already on a thin line - but fuck it. He had a free hand anyways. He grabbed something from his pocket and slammed it against the villain. “As I said before. Fuck. You.” He pressed the button on the side.

The machine sparked to life. Quite literally. Danny still didn’t know what it was supposed to do, but he could make it shock things. Like a weird taser. Unlucky for Danny he was literally pinned to the ground beneath the villain getting tased. And as everyone knows. Humans are conductive. Very conductive. 

Strangely the villain didn't even flinch. The growl getting louder as they grabbed the device from their shoulder and crushed it with their hand. Danny started shaking. Okay so that was a horrible idea. 

The shadows of the alley gathered around the villain. Climbing up their clothing and slowly slithering along their arm. They held Danny down, forming chains around him. In the villain’s hand, a knife, absorbing all light, The villian made the move to attack, and Danny closed his eyes, waiting for the pain to come.

It never did.

It lessened. 

Weight lifted from him, a weight he hadn’t realized was there besides his arm. Tentatively he opened his eyes. 

The villain was on the ground a few meters away from him, knocked out and tied up to a fire exit- similar to how Batman would leave criminals for the cops. Danny blinked. He hadn’t heard anything. So what in the world happened? And how could that have happened so fast? 

Standing up, he looked around for a sign of anyone being there to help him.

Oddly enough. It seemed no one had caused the villain to go down, at least not that Danny could see. Blue eyes scanned the area for a moment, looking for anything that wasn’t there before. Nothing popped out. Nothing was out of place. It looked like no one had been there.

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. The air condensed, forming mist as it left his mouth and floated away. It was like when he first stepped outside in the winter. Which was strange- it was the middle of summer. A small frown formed on his face. The nights here weren’t that cold normally. 

He brushed it off, ignoring the goosebumps running along his skin as the air chilled. Perhaps whoever knocked the villain out had a rather cold quirk, he mused to himself. Heroes normally make themselves known at this point, checking to see if he was okay. 

He had an inkling it wasn’t a hero. At least not a licensed one. Not that he minded. He didn’t care who it was really. They saved his life… he was grateful for that.

Danny looked up to the clear sky, moonlight peaking over the buildings enough to illuminate the alley where the street lights glowed. He smiled up to the stars. “Thank you.” He said softly. “I wasn’t paying attention tonight.”

He left the alley, starting his way back home. He never caught sight of the figure watching him.

[tetralea]

omg please do smut prompt 13 “i really don’t care. You still look hot and i’m trying not to kiss/fuck you senseless right now” with tom x reader (maybe exes to lovers but what do i know)

Uuugh, it took me so long! Sorry! I hope you are going to enjoy!

Finally you decided, finally you are getting the tattoo you wanted for so long. Not that it is your first time, but it is a special piece. Having to go to a new place instead of your regular one was difficult, but you never imagined it to be this hard.

Even tho you did choose a place your ex-boyfriend told you a million times he would never work at, here you were, laying on your side unable to speak as Tom’s gloved hands moved on your skin.

You didn’t say a word, it was only the buzzing of the pen and your occasional sighs when he moved to a more sensitive point. You missed the times when he would have praised you for being so good and staying still and occasionally shooting you a huge grin.

No, not this time. You weren’t even facing him so he could reach you better, and now you deeply regretted your decision to wear only some plasters on your nipples to avoid any stains of ink.

‘I guess the fairytale life you were promised didn’t really work after all.’ Tom spoke slowly, his hands still moving steady, his voice stern. You wished you could have moved and saw his face but this was impossible.

‘Your guess is right.’ You had to gain some strength to be able to press the words past your teeth without sounding extremely rude or hurt. You had no right to be mean to him right now.

‘Perfect prince charming wasn’t, so dreamy and perfect as your parents wanted him to be?’ He pushed further, his hand coming up to your arm to position it a bit differently, turning you even more away from himself. It hurt.

‘He was.’ You admitted with a sigh you had to stop mid-motion to prevent your ribs from moving too much. ‘Too perfect.’ It was there the rambling, the rant, it was at the tip of your tongue and you were with the only person who you knew understood you more than anyone else, but how could you say all this to him. It’s been one and a half years now and you hurt him enough already.

Tom didn’t comment on that, just kept on working, occasionally shifting a little, his hand only a breath away from your breast now as he moved forward as the tattoo progressed. For a few minutes it was deafening silence again, now the little buzz didn’t help either. You felt the words forming on your lips and tried to prevent them from falling, but oh, well.

‘He was horrible.’ It was a start. ‘Childish, dumb, unable to take care of himself, stadoffish, mama’s fucking little perfect son.’ The words come easy and you felt your soul being lighter with every letter you pronounce. ‘He was awful, I don’t even know how that stupid engagement happened. It was so surreal and I couldn’t say anything, I didn’t say yes, I was just standing there, then he started to speak and then everyone assumed I agreed and I hated it. Every second of it.’

While you were speaking Tom read through the words he was marking your body with and smiled. It was obvious, of course he read the press release of the scandal. The guy was the son of a politician, so when you broke off your engagement it made into the papers easily. Tom didn’t want to lie that he felt relief mixing with satisfaction and almost happiness when he saw the news. He barely could see your face and he was sure you couldn’t see him smiling just a bit smugly right now.

‘He was insufferable, all he talked about was the greater good, and saving the poor and how great his father was and how great our kids would have been,’ you voice break just in time to hear the sound Tom made, half gagging half disgusted, ‘ well, too bad, he never fucked me.’

Oh, shit.

This was the tiny detail you never planned to disclose to your ex-boyfriend, but it was out and your body froze, cursing your luck that you couldn’t face him.

‘What?’ His voice was just as shocked yet a bit amused.

After a deep breath, which now you could take as the sharp pain was gone just as the pen and the hands, you could speak. ‘You heard it.’ Pressing your lips together, waiting for his answer you slightly turned, finally, being able to look at him. Those brown eyes were just as confused, he was caught off guard, his brows slightly furrowed, thin lips almost disappearing as he pressed them together.

The tension peaked as he opened his mouth. ‘Um,-’ he looked to the side, searching for his words, ‘we are ready, please go to the mirror to look at how your new tattoo looks.’

It was not the sentence you were waiting for, but you understood. You weren’t together anymore and didn’t even talk ever since. His tone was smooth, too smooth, like he was forcing himself to change the subject, but you didn’t object.

As you got up and walked to the mirror, taking in the new black, slightly red and swollen lines on your ribs, you were speechless.

‘I love it.’ You said it finally with a huge grin, your eyes moving up to find Tom’s reflection in the mirror.

‘I’m glad.’ He laughed, reaching up to touch the back of his head nervously. ‘I changed it a little, the curve, I thought it fits your shape better. I hope it’s ok.’ His words were quiet but confident as he reached out to point at that part being careful not to touch your skin.

‘Not much I can do about it now, ‘ you giggled ‘but I love it, it does look better. Thank you.’

His sigh didn’t escape your ears, neither as his expression instantly relaxed.

Neither of you said a thing, you just quietly admired his work with a huge smile on your lips, not even noticing the way he was looking at you. He knew he still had to wrapp it and all that but didn’t want to break the silence which now felt comfortable, neither wanted to take his eyes off you, admiring all the other tattoos on your skin which was all from him. His tattoos. His.

He marked you up too many times, all the evidence on beautiful display on your body. there was an all too familiar feeling in this thought, you being his.

He inhaled sharply before risking it all.

‘So, never fucked you, huh?’ He asked with husky voice, stepping closer, his chest only from and inch to your back.

‘No.’ The answer was honest and immediate. Your gaze finding his in the mirror, not letting it go, not even when he touched you hesitantly. ‘He said I was living in sin for long enough, but he will fix that.’ You quoted him, pouting clinically.

‘Guess, that worked out well. You never was the insatiable type. Never once begged me to take you again and again, never woke me up at 4 am because you were too horny or making me take an unusually long lunch break because we hit it off in the car.’ Tom’s voice was unwavering, neutral, like he was just small talking, but his body told you differently. Those long fingers were gripping your hips, his eyes darkening, his body now pressed to yours, him leaning close almost whispering into your ear.

‘Exactly,- ‘ you nodded, ‘never ever touched myself while he was sleeping next to me. Never fucked myself with my fingers thinking about you, imagining it being you, wishing you to be there and taking care of me.’ Your tone was the same, like you weren’t talking about the most intimate moments of your life, but there were no taboos between the two of you.

‘Hm.’ Tom nodded thoughtfully, his hands now moving up, his tumbs swiping the underside of your breasts. ‘Good. That would have been a shame.’ Now his hands gently cupped your tits, slowly fondling them, taking in the way they moved under his movements from the mirror. ‘But also, ‘he purred, and looked up to look at you for real as he turned you in his arms, ‘it means I was the last person who got to have you, and that just makes me feel in a certain kind of way.’ He was close, but not enough. You couldn’t answer, not in this situation, not after what he just said, not when he was looking at you like this. It was all too familiar, the longing, the desire, the admiration, the promise.

‘Tom,- ‘you started something what sounded like an excuse to break your small bubble, and he couldn’t have that.’

‘I really, don’t care.’ One of his hands let go of you just to move up and press his fingers to your lips. ‘You look so hot and I’m trying not to kiss or fuck you senseless now.’ He pressed that small word harder making you forget every objection you had, letting him lean impossibly close, feeling his hot breath on your mouth.

‘Just do it then.’ You whimpered onto his lips, capturing them in an intoxicating kiss. It was everything you longed for, it was so familiar again, and you couldn’t get enough this time either. His kisses made you light headed, moaning into his mouth, pulling on his soft curls pressing your bare chest to his black shirt. His hands were squeezing your hips urgingly, as his lips were caressing yours, his tongue tasting you again, finally. It eventually slowed down, reducing to small kisses, small pecks before starting all over again, with an impatient whimper. He wanted to press you to something, to feel you under his body, to fuck you silly then and there but he didn’t dare to. He had to cover up the tattoo, and he was practically still working.

He slowed down the kiss to be able to speak. ‘We need to finish this beauty on your ribs, then I am free. If you are serious, we can go to mine, and I promise you won’t be able to walk tomorrow, darling.’

Tagging: @we--are---not--afraid, @tomsrebeleyebrow, @tomhollandsmut, @tomhollandd, @tommysparker, @duskholland, @greenorangevioletgrass, @tomhollandspideys, @thurstyforholland, @hollanddolanfluff, @z-ukos

[skellebonez]

Hear me out: Spider Macaque in the Spider Monkie AU with prompts 14 and 35?

I hear you and oh this was way too much fun... I took a great deal of liberty with exactly how Mac transforms into his Spider Monkie form and who says what and the TIMELINE because I... re-wrote this into a ship fic because of you. I call it ShadowCodingShipping because someone had to name MacaqueSyntax eventually! I guess you could say this is definitely a what-if story more than anything.

Warning for body horror because Mac is slowly turning half spider and that's kinda gross and painful. Also this is hurt/comfort but heavy on the HURT. This does not have a happy ending.

Am I scaring you?/I believe I can be of some help here.

"Am I scaring you?" Macaque asked with a smirk, pain clearly barely held at bay behind it. The monkey demon was a mess, fur tussled and miscolored splotches that hadn't yet grown in properly littered his torso. His torso that had gained a good inch in the last failed attempt at... what they were trying to accomplish. "... are you going to answer me, scientist?"

Syntax did not answer. Whether it was out of fear or knowing that regardless his answer would not make the demon leave him be even he didn't know.

"Queenie calls you Syntax," Macaque continued, moving around the computer to watch him over the screen. "That can't be your name, can it? I didn't give enough of a shit to ask before now. Hey. Hey. Hey. H-"

"No, it is not my birth name," the scientist snapped eventually, watching as Macaque smirked in victory. "Only a complete fool would agree to work with someone as infamous as the Spider Queen and use their legal name as if they were sending an unencrypted message containing confidential information across basic messaging applications without a VPN. What in the world are you trying to accomplish?"

"Ooooo, wordy," Macaque chuckled out as he leaned against the monitor and made it tilt at an awkward angle. "I'm. Bored. Entertain me, scientist, you're the most interesting person in this place. believe it or not."

Syntax raised a brow at the demon, sighing as he continued to type into the computer. "Do you want this to be finished any time soon? Because the more you bother me the longer it will take. I may be able to multitask but humans have limits."

Macaque scowled for a moment before shrugging, failing at hiding a grimace of pain. It must have made the new bones in his spine ache horribly. But he moved easily past Syntax without a word, only whipping his tail against his shoulder as he left.

It didn't hurt at all... he wondered what the point of the gesture even was.

~

The screaming rang through the entire hideout, Syntax's ears ringing even as he covered them. They'd tried twice more in their attempts at Macaque's twisted idea, Spider Queen slowly seeming to become less and less comfortable with not only their methods but with what they were even doing. It was working, sort of, but not correctly.

The changes were supposed to be immediate, so fast that the pain receptors wouldn't register properly. Not for the comfort of the converted, but so that it would happen so quickly they wouldn't be able to fight it. Less pain, less of a change for your body to try to fight off the transformation. Syntax had insisted on mechanical changes, nano-bots or something of the sort instead of organic growth. Macaque himself had vetoed this, saying something about how it wouldn't make him feel whole again.

This made the changes slow. Too slow, so much so that the mixture was fought off by his immortal monkey biology too quickly for it to take hold the way it was supposed to, requiring Syntax to make it stronger and stronger each time in the hopes it would finally kick in.

Now Macaque laid on the ground, holding his face and screaming so much Syntax feared his vocal cords would give out. The last two treatments had lengthened his torso even more and changed his fur consistency entirely. Once soft and thick black fur was a mixture of that and the coarse purple hair of a spider, not meshing together at all and instead forming an odd pattern on his body. At some points silver had begun to peak through, though if that was supposed to happen or if it was a reaction to the sheer stress of his body undergoing a change that should not be happening he was not sure. Syntax could see the red mark on his face warping, changing into the same purple on his torso around his eyes and moving up on his face as two more eyes grew above the ones he already had. It was fascinating to be sure, and he would have said that it was almost pretty had it not seen the build up of them forming in a fashion he wished to never see in slow build up ever again.

He was a scientist. He was supposed to be impartial to his work above all else, and he had agreed to help of... mostly his own volition. But this... This made him more uncomfortable than he was ready to admit.

"Help him up," Spider Queen said after Macaque collapsed onto the floor, screaming ceased as his body fought off the mixture for the fourth time. She looked... perturbed. Discomforted. "After his last treatment... move on to your idea. We are not doing this again."

She moved out of the room quickly, to fast to even tell her if he would or not, covering the side of her face with her hand to shield her from the sight of the collapse man on the floor. Yes... discomforted indeed.

Syntax didn't have that luxury. And he would not leave Macaque to lay on the floor regardless of orders. But the way he shook and covered his new eyes and the small amount of tears leaking from his normal eyes made a pang of pity shoot through him. He was a scientist... but he was still human.

"I believe I can be of some help here," he said softly, taking off his lab coat and folding it part way before shoving it under Macaque's head and laying the unfolded part over his face. The demon let out a half whimper, clearly bit back as he didn't want to show weakness, but eased ever so slightly as he realized the coat blocked out the light of the lab just as well as his hands had. "It's not a perfect solution, but it gets the job done.

"Th-thought Queenie s-said to help me u-up," Macaque stuttered out, moving his hands to grip the coat instead of his eyes.

"Yes, but that would be a bad idea," Syntax explained, sitting on the floor next to him with a sigh. He pulled his tablet down from a nearby table, there was no point in not getting at least some work done, and began scribbling away with the attached pen. "Your eyes are far too sensitive and with the other changes you have gone through your body will likely collapse again before we could get you to a cot. It's best you remain stationary for the time being until I am able to assess your pain tolerance properly, then I will move you to your quarters."

Macaque didn't say anything, just huffed in reply and seemed to relax. Syntax wondered if he was thankful he wouldn't have to move immediately this time, and he could have sworn he heard something... rumbling.

Maybe it was the machinery behind them.

He felt Macaque's tail hit his side after a while, thumping softly against him... but he didn't push it away.

He wondered if this would change anything at all.

~

Syntax saw more of Macaque than usual after that. Sometimes he would wander into his lab and just... stay there. Silent as the shadows he liked to hide in. Sometimes he would just watch him work, other times he would bring him plums or mangoes. Syntax never had much of a taste for fruit, not really enjoying any form of sweets, but he would not pass up free food when his stomach rumbled in protest from his long hours. One time Macaque had brought in a book, sat on his desk, and just read it.

That was bizarre, even for him. But Syntax found he didn't exactly mind the company. It was quite... lonely in the lab. He was the only human in the Spider Queen's entourage and her other two companions weren't exactly the best company. Oh, the big guy was nice and all and Syntax even enjoyed his presence well enough. But he would grow bored of the scientist's techno babble and science talk eventually and leave with a nod and a wave goodbye. He was grateful that he seemed to listen, however, even if he wasn't interested in the specifics.

The other one, however, was a pain in his ass. Constantly one upping him, trying to belittle him for being a human, just being an all around annoyance. He tried to act cool and suave but Syntax just found him obnoxious.

Macaque... Macaque stayed, listened even if Syntax ran out of things to talk about. And it was oddly nice. He felt himself growing excited for when the part-spider part-monkey would make his presence known.

He wondered, distantly... if Macaque was starting to mean something to him. To matter, in a way.

~

The day of the final treatment eventually arrived and Syntax actually dreaded what might happen. This was their last shot to make this work completely, there was a greater than 0% chance that this would cause irreparable damage to the monkey demon if they had to continue farther. But it seemed his worries were unfounded. He was smart, a genius even. He had done his job properly, even if it had taken far too long and was the least beneficial way to accomplish the goal.

Macaque screamed worse than with every other treatment, and understandably do. It would have shocked him if Macaque hadn't since he was growing two new arms.

The Spider Queen had taken her leave shortly after, disgusted by the sight before her. It was Syntax's job to watch as Macaque slowly changed before him, bones and muscle and sinew growing slowly and bit by until finally... finally it was finished.

They had learned from last time, placing a cot on the ground for him to sit on while this happened, and he collapsed onto his back. Two new arms limp against the floor as he shook and twitched and cried cold tears in agony. But it was finished.

Syntax couldn't stop himself. He rushed forward, kneeling beside Macaque's head, watching his eyes and expression for recognition and any sign that he was alright. It had only been two weeks since the last treatment, the time needed for him to recuperate, but in that short time... he had grown oddly fond of the man on the cot. He did not know what he felt for him, not yet, but he knew that he did not dislike him in the slightest.

"Ma-Macaque?" He asked softly after no response for nearly 15 minutes, waiting and watching and finally Macaque's eyes turned to him. "How do you feel?"

Macaque didn't say anything to him at first. Just blinked before a weak chuckle resounded from his throat.

"Whole."

~

The transformation was a mistake. Syntax had never felt guilt for any of his scientific achievement before, and he did not feel guilt for helping the Spider Queen in her endeavor, bit this? This he felt guilt for.

Macaque was in pain. Constantly. Sometimes it was just a dull ache, other times he almost collapsed as something moved the way it shouldn't and he had to bite back a scream. But there was no taking it back now and Macaque reveled in "feeling whole" again.

Syntax felt a mix of awe and wonder whenever he looked at the demon. He was... handsome, the purples and blacks and silvers of his fur blending together properly now. His eyes brilliant gold and green. And when he wasn't in pain his smile was nice, soft even if he could call it that. He was unsure of how much of it was true, he knew the Six-Eared Macaque to be a trickster. But he hoped some of it was, at least when directed at him.

But when he was in pain his face twisted in a way that made Syntax sick to his stomach to see it each time the agony rang true on his face. But Macaque brushed it off, not seeming to pay it much mind. Not when he had his eyes and arms "back".

The Spider Queen agreed with him, he could tell, but probably not for the same reasons. She seemed frightened of him. Goliath and Huntsman were just scared of him too. They avoided him like he would kill them on sight.

Syntax, despite his guilt, welcomes his presence still. He was not frightened of Macaque in the least. No, he just felt guilt that he was in pain. And he would never not want to help him through that now. The spider monkie had grown attached to him, almost a constant companion at his side. And he had grown fond of him as well.

He learned that Macaque had a flair for the theater. He made shadow puppets when the Spider Queen wasn't watching, though for what purpose and what audience Syntax had not asked. He liked to watch Syntax work, and eventually as he started to rest his head on the human's shoulder he learned the rumbling from the second to last treatment was a purr. He didn't know demons could purr, let alone to speed up recovery from injuries.

But the day of the Lunar New Year was coming and Syntax could tell he had something else... someone else on his mind.

~

The next day was to be the day. Syntax's last chance to get the new formula and tech right. It almost felt like a repeat of the past treatments but with less screaming. He was worried.

Macaque wasn't, however. He had never been worried, assuring the Spider Queen (sometimes through growls and bared teeth) that it would be done in time. He'd been a success after all. (Syntax said nothing each time.)

They'd never been this close before, but Macaque had eventually dragged the scientist away from his computer for rest. Taken him to his room, sat on the bed with him, and just. Held him. Purring loud and deep and eventually Syntax was lulled into slumber sitting up against the soft-coarse fur of Macaque.

He realized that Macaque mattered to him more than he cared to admit.

~

Syntax had failed. His formula and tech hadn't worked. They only had one shot left, and there was no time for him to fix his mistakes before the end of the celebration. Macaque had been in too much pain, on the other side of the room, to tell Spider Queen off this time. It was all over...

Until she came. The young woman in white and blue. She'd done something, added an ingredient he had not been able to calculate for, and then...

"Let's give it a spin," Spider Queen had said with a smirk as she turned toward her human scientist... her human guinea pig.

"Wait, no!" Syntax backed up, knowing that it was almost pointless to attempt escape. There was nowhere to run. "I helped you! You need me! Maca-AGH!"

Before the spider monkie could rush to his side the little spider drone had jumped on Syntax, adhering itself to his face before he fell backward over some machinery. It crawled around him, situating itself on his back and digging in it's injectors and

pain agony pain pain something came out of his back pain another painpainhescreamedandscreamed ANOTHER AGONYISTHISWHATMACAQUEFELTPAIN one more

And then it was over. Syntax felt... nothing. No pain. No agony.

No... guilt.

He stood straight, facing forward before kneeling. He knew what he had to do.

"My queen."

Yes. His queen. The Spider Queen.

She was the only one who mattered to him.

He heard his name spoken from the other side of the room but paid it no mind. That voice didn't matter to him.

That wasn't the voice of his queen.

~

"Syntax?" Macaque called, unable to stand from his spot as his arms throbbed in ghost pain. He had tried to stand before, when the drone had lunged at him, but the pain shot through him for a split second and send him to his knees too quickly.

His screams... his screams made his ears pull back not from the pain of the volume but from fear and something else.

Then Syntax stopped screaming and stood and knelt before the Queen.

"Syntax!"

... he never responded.

Macaque wondered if this is what guilt felt like.