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#i gotta get my ass on this train this is cool as fuck
wynnyfryd · 6 months
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Trailer park Steve AU part 26
part 1 | part 25 | ao3
cw: period-typical homophobia, recreational drug/alcohol use
He’s marching over the grass with a couple of varsity guys; two on his left, two on his right; V-formation like a flock of geese. Jason's at the head of the group, self-assured purpose of a leader, and it’s weird, seeing this little runt all grown up. The kid used to worship Steve; used to follow him around practices like a lost puppy, called him Captain before he’d even earned the role.
“Is this freak bothering you?” Jason asks. His voice is harsh, winded, winding up for a fight. Steve can see it in his stance: the tightening of his jaw, the clench of his friends’ fists. Plant your feet.
Steve’s gotta shut this shit down before it goes where it always does. Smashed plates, broken bones. All pissing contests flow toward the ocean or whatever.
“Nah, man,” he answers, standing up to dust himself off. The coke zips under his skin, makes him jittery and hot. Hard to play it cool. “We’re good. Busted my ass on the rocks; Munson was just helping me up.”
Munson. Like they’re buddies. Like Eddie’s thumb isn’t still damp from Steve’s tongue.
Jason doesn't seem to buy it. Little pastor-cop in training, he narrows his eyes and turns on Eddie. “Were you following him, Freak?”
Eddie's eyes flash in warning, a muscle jumping in his jaw. Steve shifts his weight to stand in front of him, and his fingers twitch around empty air. He wishes he had his nail bat with him; kind of wants to glue the handle to his palm.
Never know when monsters will come crawling out of the woods.
"Well?" Jason barks, "Answer me!"
His lackeys all pipe up then, the guy to his right sneering, "Not so talkative without his lunch table to stand on, is he?"
"Look at him shaking," adds another.
"Think he was trying to do some Satanic ritual shit while no one was looking?"
"I don't know," says the guy on Jason's left. "Looked like they were sucking each other off to me. Hey, maybe Harrington’s turned fag.”
“Andy!” Jason warns, and Steve—
Steve staggers forward with three arrows in his chest. One for every letter of that stupid fucking word that's been haunting him for years; raging fire in a black box in the far reaches of his brain, belching thick, black smoke, singing his fingertips whenever he gets close enough to touch it.
He wonders if Andy can taste the sulfur in it, too.
“No, go on,” he seethes, voice deadly calm when he lays a hand on Andy’s chest. Steeple his fingers, tips his chin. “Say it again; don't think I heard you right.”
Andy swallows hard, grinds his teeth; tenses to square off for the fight, but Jason throws an arm in front of him. "Easy," he says.
Easy. Down boy.
Andy snarls and backs off.
Jason lowers his voice, searching Steve's face. "You sure you're good? Can't be too careful with..."
His gaze slides over Steve's shoulder, his nose wrinkling in disgust. Steve's never wanted to risk a concussion more. "I'm fine," he grits out, balking at the diplomatic bullshit that's about to slither from his mouth. "Really. Thanks, though, man; appreciate you looking out for me."
Jason gives him a serious nod. "Any time."
“So, uh…” Eddie squints at Steve once Jason and his goons run along. His arms are hugged tight around his middle, and he's biting his lip; nervous jiggle of his leg. “How, um— How are we playing this, exactly?”
Steve scrubs at his face; swoons where he stands. Feels like all the blood's drained out of him without the adrenaline to prop him up. Goddamn, he's still so drunk. “Playing what?” he asks, confused.
Whatever it is, it’s already been played, hasn’t it?
Fight’s over; Steve’s exhausted. He just wants to go home.
But then Eddie shakes his head and tuts softly at the ground, his expression gone sour and sad, and there it is again. That feeling that Steve’s fucking everything up somehow.
He’s so tired of that feeling.
Slowly, so slowly, he reaches out a hand. Skims Eddie's side; leather jacket, bony hip, and then he hooks his pinky finger into the belt loop of his jeans. Tugs, just a little. Not hard enough to topple him, just—
Enough.
He hopes.
part 27
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queers-gambit · 1 month
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The Blood of the Covenant
prompt: ( requested ) being raised alongside the Twins, you naturally fell on path to become a contract killer - much to Tangerine's chagrin. when you're recruited onto the Bullet Train, too, emotions cum into play - get it?
pairing: Tangerine x female!assassin!reader
fandom masterlist: Bullet Train
word count: 9.4k+
note: this isn't very good, i'm very sorry.
warnings: codename Olive 'cause it's cute, cursing, Lord's name in vain, mild spoilers, AU timeline (obviously), Tan is still Aaron, Lem is still Brian, emotional confessions, mild depiction of violence, very short and poorly written smut, canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, needles / weaponized venom [The Hornet], and dead bodies.
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"So, you get on the train, you find the Twins, and you get off - it's easy," Constance, your handler, scolded through the phone. "Seriously, why are you so nervous? It's like the most lowkey job you've ever been assigned."
"Yeah, you're just forgetting the part where I have to locate some generic looking briefcase on this God forsaken train, make sure they have the White Death's son, then get them all off - "
"Okay, see, now you're making it all complicated," Constance laughed again. "C'mon, Olive, tell me the truth."
"What truth?"
"You're nervous," she sang in your ear.
"No shit, I'm nervous!" You snapped, connecting the bluetooth device and shoving your phone in your pocket as the train jetted into the station. "Do you have a good reason I shouldn't be?"
"Um, how about the fact that you guys grew up in the orphanage together, making you practically family, and that they're gonna be overjoyed to see you?"
"Yeah, right!" You laughed, "You don't know the guys, and it's been, like, 4 years since I've seen them. They're scary overprotective and if they know what I'm doing professionally, they'll probably handcuff me to one of them and deliver me to some nunnery."
"Are those even a thing anymore?"
"Fuck if I know," you snorted.
"You're overthinking, Olive, just breathe," she advised. "Look, the intel is good. The White Death is up to something and if you wanna see the Twins alive, you need to get them off the train."
"Cool, so fuck the case and the son?"
"Nope, you wanna get paid, you gotta grab them, too."
You sighed, the train doors opening. "Well, here goes fucking nothing..."
"I've literally never heard you this nervous, it's kinda cute."
"Constance, is there a reason we're still on the phone?" You asked, nodding at the people you passed and excusing yourself as you searched the train cars slowly.
"I wanna hear how this goes!"
"Call you when I have the payloads, 'mmkay?"
"No," she whined, "c'mon, lemme hear the reunion!"
"Goodbye, Constance, as always, you're a giant pain in my ass."
"Oh, like you're a basket of roses. Fine, go, deprive me of this. Fucking killjoy!"
"Talk soon - and if not, I'm probably shot."
"Well, just... Don't get shot?"
"Spot-on advice, love."
"You'd be lost without me."
"Bye, you idiot."
"Seriously, don't get shot!"
Disconnecting the call, you chuckled to yourself and dodged around a family. However, right behind them was a man in a bucket hat and thick black framed glasses carrying a silver briefcase, who bumped your shoulder. "Oh, I'm so sorry, ma'am," he instantly apologized in English.
"No worries," you smiled, nodding at him. "Have a nice ride."
"You, too," he nodded back, and you turned to continue on your way, missing the way the man eyed you - and gulped when he caught sight of the gun in your waistband. He scurried on his way.
You entered another train car, pausing to take a long breath as you surveyed the patrons. You moved onto the next section, the train rocketing into motion. However, as you approached the next set of doors, you gasped and skirted to a halt when two men lingered in the connection.
"Oh - what the bloody fuck are you doing here!?" Aaron snapped instantly.
"Well, hello to you, too, love," you grumbled with a curled lip.
"Hi, doll!"
You grinned at Brian, greeting him with enthusiasm; offering a giant hug, him kissing your cheek noisily. "So good to see you," you told him when you pulled back.
"Tan," Brian snapped, glaring at him as he gestured at you. "C'mon, mate, don't be like this - 's been years!"
"Yeah, Tan," you pouted dramatically.
"You even know what Tan stands for?" Brian snickered.
"Nope."
"Tangerine," then he pointed at himself, "Lemon."
Aaron's blue eyes rolled, sighing deeply before nodding. "Right, right, c'mere, then, you," he opened his arms, and when you stepped into his embrace, you swear, it was like returning home. After a beat, you felt his arms tighten and his nose press into your neck, subtly inhaling; making you give him a tighter squeeze.
"Oh, Jesus, all right, c'mon, I'm standing right here," Lemon groaned, you and Tan parting, but only saddling beside him with his arm around your neck and yours anchored around his waist.
"So," you chirped, shifting your body weight, "you two have the case, I assume? And the Son - "
"Oh, you've gotta be fuckin' joking," Tangerine snapped, glaring at you as you grinned mischievously. "How's it you know about any of that?"
"She's on assignment, felt the gun when I hugged her," Lemon snickered as if it were common knowledge. "How long you've been working, love? Why didn't you ring us? Talk to us 'bout this?"
"I needed to?"
"No, but just for a bit of a catch-up?" Lemon shrugged. "You know, tell us you're doin' some dangerous job instead of teaching? Aren't you supposed to be a teacher now?"
"This pays better."
"Not gonna get paid a single dime, the fuck's wrong with you?" Tan snapped, dropping the arm from your neck to round on you in anger. "You're seriously on a job?"
"Mhm," you hummed with a smile. "And why won't I see a dime, exactly?"
"'Cause you're not doin' this fuckin' job, love, for fuck's sake!"
"Tan, just calm down," Lemon sighed, holding a hand to him as the man with a pornstache paced in a small circle; wiping a hand around his mouth. "Love? What's the job you're on?"
"Mh," you nodded, "well, 's a bit unprofessional to tell you, but fuck it. I'm to collect the case, grab the White Death's son, and get you two off this fucking train."
"Oh - for fuck's - "
"Tan!" Lemon laughed. "Mate, take a breath! She's obviously qualified if she's made it this far, got this assignment."
You grinned, "You ever hear rumors about that shit that went down in Medellín?"
"Don't tell me," Lemon gasped. "That was you?"
"Most of it wasn't intentional, but I'm pretty good at improvising," you teased. "Anyways, I heard about Bolivia, you two are certainly making names for yourselves, aren't yah?"
"Well," Lemon smiled bashfully, waving you off.
"Right, so, we're approaching the next station," you pointed out, clasping your hands in front of you and smiling, "so, where's the Son?"
"Oh, uh, up there," Lem pointed to the next train car.
"Mhm, good, good, good, and the case?" There was an awkward silence as Lemon and Tangerine exchanged long looks. "Hey? Where's the case, Brian - I mean, Lemon?"
"Well, uh... Funny thing, yeah?" He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.
"Tan? Sweetheart?" You smiled prettily, reaching for his hand to halt his pacing, "Where's the case?"
"It's..." Tan trailed, seeing Lemon shaking his head vigorously from behind you. He sighed when he met your sweet eyes and admitted, "It got lifted, love."
"Oh, you fuckin' simp," Lemon groaned.
"What? Wanted me t'lie? She's got that sixth sense for that shit, mate!" Tangerine defended.
"No, you're just whipped!"
"She's looking for the same bloody case, she'd know eventually!"
You let go of Tan's hand to answer your ringing phone, holding a finger to them both, "Hey, Constance, now's not a great time."
"What's wrong?" She asked.
"Nothing, just reuniting with the lads," you eased. "I'll call you when we have the case and kid, and are off the train, all right? And if I don't - "
"Yeah, yeah, you're shot. Fine, just..." She sighed. "Listen, you three aren't the only ones on assignment."
"Hmm?" You perked your brows.
"Yeah, so, Maria's got an agent in the field. Also, I just got intel that the Wolf's there, no idea why. The Hornet, too."
"You're fuckin' joking, right?"
"Nope. They popped up on our travel itineraries. They used pseudonyms naturally, but we have their records."
"Fuck me, all right... All right, yeah, we'll handle it."
"No, don't handle anything! Remember Rome!?"
"Rome wasn't my fault!" You snapped, taking a deep breath. "But it did piss the Hornet off, we'll be careful."
"Get off the fucking train, Olive!"
"When the packages are secured, love, yeah, all right, gotta go, bye-bye now!"
"Olive - "
You hung up and put your phone in your back pocket, sighing at the Twins. "Well, this just got more interesting. We aren't the only ones on this job," you frowned.
"What?" Lem's face dropped.
"Wait, what happened in Rome?" Tangerine asked, offering you his signature look of annoyance: a frown and pinched brows.
"Oh, nothing that was my doing," you waved off. "So, to recap, the case is missing, but the Son is secured?"
"Zip tied to his seat," Lemon nodded.
"Mhm, and where was the case?"
"I had it stashed, but..." He eyed the luggage tossed around the compartment.
"Now, it's gone. Okay, okay," you nodded, "so, just for future reference, don't stash the goods, all right? Terribly unprofessional, darling."
"Yeah," he nodded sadly.
"Oh, so when she says it - "
"She doesn't get all smart with me!" Lemon cut Tangerine off with a warning finger as he paced in the compartment. "The fuck do we do? We just passed the station - the fucker could've gotten off - I mean!"
"Easy," you spoke softly, but the panic was set between the two. You sighed when Lemon turned frantic, leaning back on the wall as Tangerine stood beside you.
"No, no, look, we got his son," Lemon reminded. "That was our job."
Tangerine shared a look with you, making you chide, "Stay calm. You get nowhere bein' so up-tight." His expression melted into something close to reprimanding, but he sighed and faced Lemon.
"Our job was to come back with his son and his $10 million. Three words to describe our situation right now, do you know what they are?"
Lemon glared, "Sure do." Then held up three fingers, dropping one for each word, "Saved - his - son. Hmm? Family's more important than money, right?"
"Do you honestly not know who the White Death is?"
"Yeah, I know who the White Death is. You just told me five minutes ago," Lemon snipped, making you sigh as he rambled an explanation.
"Why do I even bothering forwarding you the briefings?" Tan interrupted, exasperated by the entire ordeal.
There was a pause and Lemon replied softly, almost sheepishly, "I do not know. You get briefings, love?"
"Mhm, but my handler likes giving me the CliffNotes," you eased with a small shrug.
When Tangerine turned from you two to face the train's door, staring out the window, you and Lemon shared a look - his hand raising as if to wave off Tan's theatrics. In return, you just held a placating hand to him, letting Tangerine start his story about the White Death. When he got through his tale, he took a long breath, sighing deeply, musing as he turned back to you both, "So, let me put this bluntly. There's this soulless, psychotic leader with the largest criminal organization on the planet," then his hands dramatically gestured, "shoved right inside our fucking arse cheeks."
Lemon stared at his partner and then, too, mused, "That motherfucker's definitely a Diesel, then, isn't he?"
"You mention Thomas the Tank Engine one more time, I'm gonna shoot you in the fucking face," Tangerine snapped.
"No, no, he won't, Brian," you stepped in, standing between the two, glancing between them.
"'S Lemon when on the job, love."
"All right, sure, my apologies, Lemon," you agreed, "but he's not gonna shoot you." Lemon hummed and pointed at you in triumph, mocking Tangerine, making you scold, "No, don't do that, either. Your attitude gets us nowhere, right, lads?"
Lemon nodded at you before looking to Tan, asking, "Okay, okay, if-if-if-if he's such a badarse, how come he hired three random operators instead of getting his son back himself?"
"I wasn't hired by the White Death," you smiled, reaching a hand to Tangerine's to hold tightly when you saw his fuse about to blow. "And, you see, he had a wife, Lem."
"What? He had a wife?"
"Yeah," you nodded, ignoring Tan's impending meltdown, "and she was the most important thing in his life, and she died in a car crash. Some reports say it was an accident, some drunk driver... And others say it was an assignation attempt." You missed the look Tangerine sent you, looking you up and down, relating to the 'most important thing' comment. "But since then, he's not left the compound," you finished.
"An unnamed locomotive might say there's a lesson to be learned," Lemon quipped, irritating Tangerine.
"And you know what? He didn't hire three - or two," Tan amended, nodding at you, "random operators, Lemon. No, he asked for the best. He asked for the two responsible for the Bolivia job. He asked for pros, who wouldn't fuck up... Three words, Lemon, and now, you, too, sweetheart," he sneered at you. "We - are - "
"Fucked," Lemon finished.
"Oi, listen here, you two Debbie Downers, Christ, all right? Every situation can be remedied," you assured. "Yeah, this is - this isn't ideal, but between us three, we can figure something out. Yeah? Talkin' about you two bein' the best," you squeezed Tan's hand, "surely we can figure something out. C'mon, when do we give up?"
Lemon cocked his head, asking, "All right. Yeah, sure, but what's your codename? Can't go 'round callin' you your government. Would blow our covers."
"Olive," you smiled brightly, Tangerine scoffing. "Fuck off," you snapped instantly.
"Right, well, Olive's right," Lemon deflected, not giving Tan time to retort. He reached out to adjust Tan's suit lapel and tie, "We rescued his fucking son. Huh? We find the fucker who took the briefcase, make things right, be like it never happened," he laid out for you two, and when you tired to release his hand, Tangerine held on tighter - not letting you go.
Tangerine took a deep breath in, letting it out as he pulled out his gun with his free hand, flipping it open, checking the full round of bullets present, and snapping it closed before storing it again. He glanced at you before asking Lemon, "Still got that vest on yah?"
"No, vests give you a false sense of security," Lemon answered. "You might, like, get shot in the neck."
"Yeah, it also stops you from getting shot in the chest, but I guess you missed that episode of Thomas, did'yah?" Tan quipped, not letting Lemon time to answer because he looked at you again. "Bein' said, you are gonna stay put, doll face."
"Excuse the fuck outta me?"
"Heard me," he snapped. "You're sitting this one out."
"I don't remember being hired by you," you dropped his hand to cross your arms. "You don't get a say in what I do - this isn't like back in the group home where you two bossed me 'around, playin' big brother."
"It's exactly like that, 'cause we've been doin' this a helluva lot longer - "
"And I was still hired to do this job, so, I suggest you shut the fuck up and watch yourself."
"I'm tryna keep you safe!"
"We're not children anymore, Aaron!" You snapped. "You don't get to dictate what I do anymore! Christ, all right? I was hired for this job, just like you two, so you can either get with the program and we work together, or just shut the fuck up - 'cause I'm not sitting a Goddamn thing out!"
"Jesus fuck, could cut the sexual tension between you two with a fucking plastic spoon." Lemon scoffed, rolling his eyes; earning two identical glares for either of you. "Fine, whatever, keep denying whatever this is - but look, you two done?" Lemon sighed, and when you nodded, he nodded back. "Right - nut up or shut up, bruv."
You went to follow Lemon out, but Tan snagged your arm before you got a step too far. He kept you at his side, laying your arm in the crook of his, and in-sync, he and Lemon fluffed their outerwear as you three stalked up the train aisle. You licked the pad of your thumb and wiped a bit of grime from the corner of Tan's mouth, his smirk directed at you as you approached the Son secured in his seat.
"Well, so, slight change of plans," Tan announced when you reached the seating. Lemon reached out to alert the seemingly sleeping Son, but the movement of his shoulder caused the lad's head to lull towards you three - making each of you recoil instantly.
"Oh!" You three groaned in union, seeing the rivers of blood streaming down the Son's eyes. He was dead as a doornail, some would say.
You stood watch as Tan and Lem leaned in closer to observe the dead body, Lemon commenting, "First his wife, now his son? That's a lot of white deaths."
Tangerine took a deep breath in, you reaching out to squeeze his elbow. "Sit down," you hissed quietly, "before you draw attention to us standing around a fucking corpse!"
"You're on watch!" Tan shot back.
"Can't do shit if you two are just staring at him! Fuck's sake, sit! You're so suspicious, aren'y you meant to be an agent?"
You pushed Lemon into the seat next to the Son and then Tan into the seating beside the window so you could claim the outside seat beside him. "We gotta disguise the body," Tan whispered, whipping out his handkerchief. You watched him dab the material to his tongue, reaching across to start cleaning the blood while Lemon looked around for anything to help.
"Hang on, hang on," he rushed, Tan pausing when a souvenir cart was approaching and pushing the lad's head towards the window. "Could we get a pair of them glasses, please?" He asked the kind attendant. "They look real fun."
The pretty lady nodded and handed over the oversized toy glasses, Lemon forking over a simple note and insisting the change be kept. You thanked the attendant in her native language as she passed, and after doing a look up and down again, nodded, "All right, go."
"Any fuckin' idea what happened?" Lemon muttered.
"No," Tan snapped.
"Looks like The Hornet's work," you whispered. "Yeah, see, her specialty are poisons and venom, most notably, that of the Boomslang snake." You smirked, "Anyone see the news recently? A Boomslang went missing earlier..."
Tan pulled the lad's head back and continued cleaning the blood off, needing to raise outta his seat to finish the job. Lemon offered, "Here, mate, try these. They're them Momonga glasses."
"The fuck is a Momonga?" Tan sneered through a small panicked pant, taking the toy and settling them on the Son's face.
"Japanese anime kid's show," you offered softly.
"Comes on after Thomas every Thursday," Lemon rushed, gasping, "oh, shi - " when the Son's head dropped. Tan and Lem fixed him to look as if he was only sleeping by leaning his head on the window.
"Thought you two were masters of disguise?" You teased.
"Shut it, darling, please," Tan snipped with a sigh. "All right, we need to split up - there's a lot of train to cover."
"What're we doing?" You asked, standing when Tan gestured you out of the way.
"Gonna find whoever has the case - probably the same nut job who killed the kid," he seethed. "The Hornet, you said?" He asked, watching you nod. Standing as a trio in the middle of the train aisle, you three agreed to split up and search for the case, but Tan insisted you come with him, "as back-up."
"You seriously need it?" You chuckled.
"No, but I wanna keep an eye on yah," he rolled his eyes.
"Shouldn't someone stay with the body?" You wondered.
"He's not gonna get any deader."
"Is that even a word?" You asked Lemon, giggling when Tangerine rolled his eyes and snatched your hand to follow after him.
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You and Tan had scoured the entire train, but had zero luck. The only direction the two of you had was from a young girl with a crisp bob haircut in first class, who told Tan she saw a man with black frame glasses with their desired case. Your mind flashed back to earlier, remembering the blonde man and how he had a briefcase. It must've been their briefcase.
He must've just lifted it when you boarded and accidentally ran into him. You hated how foolish you felt, but there was no way you could've known that was the case you were after. Still, you felt a pang of disappointment in yourself - some sick desire to impress your brothers with your skill, to prove to them you're capable of being in this line of work. That you weren't that little girl in the orphanage anymore, but a woman grown who was capable of making her own decisions and having greater purpose.
"Hey," you paused Tan in another connection that lead to the next train car, "you go ahead and update Lemon, I'm gonna pop into the loo."
"I'll wait," he nodded, his phone ringing. "Sorry, love, just a minute. 'S fucking business."
You only nodded and slipped into the bathroom, doing your business, washing your hands, and when you emerged, you jumped back slightly in shock when the Momonga mascot was standing right there in the doorway. You peaked to your right, and in the next train car, through the window, spied Tangerine on his phone, the car mostly empty to your left.
"You need in here?" You asked the mascot, but it just stared at you. "I mean, d-do you need help outta that God awful costume?" More silence. "Riiiight, well, this is weird as fuck. Soooo... I'm just gonna... Go..." You mumbled, slipping out of the bathroom, but was instantly blocked from Tan's view. "The fuck? Oi, c'mon, mate, my friend technically gave you the plushie back." More silence. "Look, you creepy motherfucker - "
But you gasped when the plush mascot shoved you backwards, forcing you to stumble into the automatic door leading to the empty train car - yelping when it opened and you fell backwards.
"Fuck! Goddamnit, that hurt," You snapped, rolling to your feet as the human-sized plushie waddled towards you; the back of your head throbbing from impact and the automatic doors closing to trap the pair of you. "What the fuck, mate? What'd I do? The fuck you want?"
When the oversized head was removed, your mouth went dry. "Remember me, bitch?" The Hornet seethed.
"Ah, fuckin' Christ."
The Hornet smirked, "You've seen my face, you know what that means? I gotta take you out. You've evaded me too long."
"Rome wasn't my fault!" You barked instantly, watching her begin to maneuver out of her costume.
"You got my partner killed, bitch!"
"It was an accident!"
"Bullshit, bitch!" She raged, shedding her mascot costume to reveal a train attendant's uniform - wondering how long she'd been waiting for this opportunity if she was prepared to this level. "You had a hit list, we were on it - "
"Oh, fuck off, as if you've never been given orders!"
Her neck cracked as she tossed the costume to an empty seat. "Time to get my revenge," she grit, "bitch."
"Learn some new insults, my God, you're so fuckin' boring. Throw in some 'cunts' or even call me a 'arsehole', just lay off the 'bitches'," your eyes rolled, dodging the Hornet's first flying fist and nearly stumbling off your feet. You exchanged blows, dancing around one another, grunting, growling, heaving for breath, trying to incapacitate the other. On a particularly hard push, the Hornet managed to dislodge your gun and send it under a set of seats.
"Not so tough now, are yah, bitch?" She laughed sarcastically.
You wiped a small dribble of blood from your lip, panting to heave your shoulders up and down. "All right, you asked for this. Bring it on - bitch!" You laughed right back, the Hornet lunging forward. However, you missed the way she pulled out a prefilled syringe and tried to stab you with it; luckily evading the injection.
"Know what's in here?" She taunted. "Boomslang venom! Yeah, that's right. Highly potent, hits your system in 30 seconds, making you bleed from every orifice - "
"I know, you stupid fucking wanker! I watch the bloody news! I went to college! I'm educated enough to know!"
The doors opened again, revealing Tangerine. "Fuckin' hell!" He snapped, "You all right, Olive!? Hey?"
"Stay back, Tan, this bitch is mine!"
The Hornet wailed as she launched at you again. You were battered and beaten, the other woman lobbing you into furniture, tables, and train walls - causing small cuts to form on your unblemished skin. Yet still, you barked at Tangerine to stay back, that you had this.
You and the Hornet ended up on the floor, trying to one up each other. However, luck was not on your side because the Hornet had you pinned and she simply dropped the syringe into the flesh of your hand. You didn't need to think too deeply, you just rolled over, snatched up the syringe, and stabbed her, too - exposing her to the venom by pushing the syringe's plunger. You both stared at one another with wide eyes, panting.
"30 seconds before the venom does its thing," you taunted, knowing that any good assassin kept the antidote on their person - just in case. Her eyes narrowed and tongue swept over her front teeth, weighing her options; eyes locked in a stalemate, daring the other to make the first move. Do nothing, you both die... Reveal the antidote, only one will die.
She reached into her breast pocket and pulled out a new syringe, you lunging for it with impressive lithe to stab into your neck and push the plunger. She seethed, "You bitch."
You stumbled back a step, colliding with Tan's chest as neither of you could look away as the Hornet's eyes went red with blood filling every cavern and crevice. "Oh, shit, that doesn't look good," you winced in fake sympathy. "You've got another syringe, right? A back-up?"
She warbled and wheezed, "What do you think, bitch?"
"What's with the whole bitch thing?" Tan asked in your ear. "She know any other words?"
You only shrugged as blood poured from the Hornet's eyes, filling her lungs to drown her from the inside. "No second antidote? Ah, that's just poor planning on your end, love," you taunted when the Hornet dropped to the ground, choking, blood leaking from her mouth. "I mean, you only carry one antidote? I thought you were supposed to be a professional? With your choice of weapon being venom, I mean," you laughed a little, "seems pretty stupid."
The Hornet continued to choke, trying to crawl up the aisle, but only getting a few feet before the effects of the venom took hold fully. She flopped onto her back, the blood congealing in a thick and tacky substance; staining the stolen uniform and floors of the train.
"What the fuck was that?" Tan snapped, turning you to face him. "Are you hurt!?" He worried, checking you over for visible sign of injury; finding two puncture wounds - one in your neck and one in your hand. You were decorated in soon-to-form bruises, but no bones were broken and you seemed relatively okay besides the small cuts.
"Tan," you soothed, placing your hand over his on your cheek. "I'm all right, I'm fine. She just caught me a little off guard."
"What the hell was that, huh? You got some kinda death wish, is it?"
"It's all part of the job!"
"Like hell, it is! This is why I didn't want you involved - "
"'Cause I could get hurt? Fuck's sake - "
"Yes, all right!" He exploded. "Yes, because you could get hurt! I couldn't forgive myself if something happened to you, and look at yah now! I was on the fuckin' phone and you were fighting this... Wait, who the fuck is that?" Tan pointed at the dead body.
"Mh. The Hornet," you answered with a shrug. "She's been after me since Rome 'bout two years ago. I might be one of the very few who knows what she actually looks like - so, no wonder she wanted me dead. Plus... I might've allegedly, possibly, kinda-sorta got her partner killed. Turns out, he was also her lover and she's been after me since."
His head shook, "So now you have international enemies?"
"I mean, I guess it means I'm good at what I do - else they wouldn't bother to come after me."
"You shouldn't say that with pride! That's not how this works!"
"Tell me how you think it should work, then!"
Tangerine glared, "You shouldn't be involved. You worked too hard to become a teacher, to have a real career, and you threw it all away, for what? For this life?"
"What do you care, Aaron!? Honestly!? 'S been years, you just disappeared from my life! I don't think you have the right to boss me around anymore! We're not fuckin' kids anymore!"
He huffed a sharp exhale, "You seriously don't know? Really that fuckin' oblivious?"
"I can't read minds! Why don't you use your words like a big boy?"
Aaron, one of your longest standing friends and practically your family without blood, just nodded sadly. "I thought it would've been obvious by now," he sighed.
"What're you - "
"I love you," Tan interrupted. "Yeah? I fucking love you."
"Yeah, I know, and I love you, too, Aaron, but that doesn't - "
"No," he interrupted in a snap, face falling, "no, I meant that I'm in love with you. Jesus Christ," his hand wiped down his face, "been in love with you for years now. Maybe it started when you punched Tommy Jenkins in the nose when we were 16, maybe it started when we aged outta the orphanage and got our first apartment together. I don't know when I fell in love with you, but I know I am."
You paused, "A-Are you serious?"
"Deadly. But luckily you've already had a dose of antidote, eh?"
The chuckle you emitted was involuntary. But then, your irritation bubbled, asking, "Why hold it in all this time? And if you were in love with me, why not call? Why abandon me in the first place? I went four years - four, Tan! - without you and Lem, the two people I treasured the most, felt safe with, found a family in. Not a single one of my letters were returned; you deprived me of any phone call, not even a single text! You just disappeared from my life."
He bowed his head, "I had to leave, sweetheart. I couldn't keep yah around."
"Why? Tell me why right now, or we'll go another four years - "
"This job is dangerous, love, bit too dangerous in honesty. You know that, but to have emotional attachments only leads to error and a lot of hurt. I was trying to play it safe, thinking I was protecting you, because if any of our enemies knew how precious you are to me, they'd use you against me - they'd hurt you and I couldn't risk that."
"You can't protect me from everything," you whispered. "Aaron, you and Brian are my family, you always have been. Your whole life, you've protected me from the brutality of life, but you can't protect me from reality any longer. I'm sorry if me working upsets you, but I know what I'm doing, Aaron. I'm not fragile, I won't shatter."
"I know," he sighed, shaking his head. "I know it's irrational, love, but I can't go another day without you. I know it's been four years too long, I thought of you everyday, and never have I had such regret. Walking away from you, doll, it hurt worse than getting shot."
You sighed and avoided his eyes, admitting, "I like to think that in some twisted way, I entered this life in the hope that I'd run into you. Felt like the only way we could see each other since this line of work is so bloody unorthodox."
Tangerine sniffled, "I always wanted to come back, find yah again, but I couldn't risk it. I can't risk you. And listen, if you don't feel the same, that's all right, love, I know I just sprang this one you, but I just needed you to know - "
"Aaron, you need to stop shutting yourself down when you feel vulnerable," you sighed patiently, waiting for him to nod his head silently to indicate for you to continue. "Take a breath and listen to me." Another nod and you revealed, "I've been in love with you, too, since we were teens. I didn't want to disrupt what we have, so I stayed quiet. You and Brian - you're the only ones I care about, the only ones I want in my crazy, chaotic, unpredictable life. Too much time as already passed, we've missed so much, I don't want to miss another minute."
He crowded closer to you, both hands lifting to hold your cheeks and stare into your eyes. "Been waiting ages t'hear that," he whispered.
You smiled softly, "I love you, Aaron. Absolutely, maddeningly, unequivocally in love with you."
He chuckled and returned the sentiment, foreheads brought together before his breath fanned across your lips. He paused to give you time to reject him, but you boldly pushed yourself to meet his lips in a long-awaited kiss that set your heart and soul on fire. Mouths moved in sync, cheeky tongues mingled, teeth gently clanked together as you kissed passionately and without restraint. His hands dropped to hold your waist, your own curling around his neck to gently thread your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck; his curls feeling soft, moisturized, and bouncy.
You were rudely interrupted by your phone, Tan pulling back with a small smirk, "Gonna get that? Might be important."
"Promise 's just Constance," you grumbled, fishing for your phone and stepping away from Tan's embrace. "Hey, love," you greeted.
"Ah! Thank God! You're not shot yet!"
"No, not shot, just stabbed, earned a few bruises but I'm good," you snorted, looking under the seats to locate you gun. "What's up, why're you calling again, I told you I'd call you when I'm good."
"We have new intelligence."
"Lay it on me," you sent Tangerine a look; his face stoic, indicating he was listening intently.
"Your next stop is the last stop that the White Death's men aren't stationed at. If you wanna make a clean getaway, you gotta get off at the next stop. It's your last chance."
You winced, "Uh... About that, so, funny thing..."
"What did you do?"
"You always think the worst of me, I don't always do shit."
"Did you?"
You paused and glanced at the squashed Hornet, shrugging, "Not really, it's just not the cleanest job I've done."
"What happened?"
"You always assume the worst in me."
"You only prove me right."
You chuckled, "Yeah, all right, fair enough. Listen," you sniffled, turning to face Tan, "we don't have the case or the Son..."
"You better fucking find them. After this stop, all others are gonna be too hard to get off at. The White Death has men in position."
"Well... Funny thing, right," you winced, rubbing the back of your neck, "uh, so, it wasn't our fault, but the Son is dead. The Hornet got to him, used Boomslang venom, I got her after so you can register her as deceased."
"Oh, fucking Christ! You fuckin' serious? Please tell me this is just a bad joke."
"Why would I lie?"
You heard Constance take a deep long breath, knowing she was counting to ten in her head to keep her composure. "Okay, Olive, sweetheart," she spoke slowly, "tell me you know where the case is. Please. I need to hear the words."
"Pretty sure Maria's guy lifted it, but no confirmation yet."
"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ! Go fucking find him, get that case, and if you don't make the next stop, call me - there's always a backup plan."
"Let's just do Plan B, it'd save a helluva lotta time."
"Olive," Constance growled, "get the Twins, get the fucking case, and get off the fucking train before you all get fucking shot."
You nodded, "Yeah, all right, love, we're on it."
After hanging up, Tan mused, "So, how's Constance?"
"Uh, yeah, no, she's stressed," you cleared your throat. "Wait, how do you know her?"
"Our handler's collaborated with her before."
"Mhm... Okay, just listen, Aaron, I told you the White Death didn't hire me."
"Right."
"Meaning I need that case and I need you and Lem to get off this train with me. We're gonna get to a safe house - "
"No, no, love, we've our own agenda."
"The Son is dead, the case is missing, your job is literally fucked," you reminded sharply. "However, I can still make it worthwhile if we find the case and get off this train. C'mon, love," you pleaded, "you have to trust me. Please, just - don't go through with the last of this job, it's not gonna end well for anyone. But my way means we all get a chance at safety and keeping our lives."
His head shook, "We won't make it in time."
"We can try."
"We need to find Glasses first - and fucking Lemon."
You agreed.
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"Looks like your luck's turned around, Joburg," Lemon sneered, the four of you coming to an agreement to take the case, leave the Son's body for the White Death to find, and get to your safe house.
"If it was up to me, we would've left him," Tangerine growled. "Seriously, love, why the fuck did we save him, too?"
"It was the right thing to do, we were all being set up," you explained, surveying the train station. "All right, c'mon, this way."
"So," Ladybug was heard, "you guys are, like, siblings?"
"Who? Us and Olive?" Lemon snickered, watching the blonde man nod. "Sure, mate, something like that."
"Seem real close, the way she risked her life for you two..."
"Well, they say the blood of the covenant is thicker than water of the womb. 'Course we're gonna look after one another."
The three men followed you, Tangerine keeping a tight hold of the silver briefcase with a train sticker on the handle. When you made it outside the station without incident or interruption, there was a sleek Range Rover waiting at the curb - an old acquaintance of yours leaning on the grill.
"Olive!" The other agent greeted with a grin.
"Gouda," you returned with enthusiasm, hugging the man. "So nice to see you, thanks for doing this."
"Constance calls, I answer," he nodded, eyeing the three other agents behind you. "Huh... See you made some friends, did yah?"
"Something like that," you mused.
"How's it goin', Gouda?" Lemon asked, making your brows pinch.
"You know each other?" Your eyes shifted between the group.
"Unfortunately," Tangerine nodded with a sigh. "Mate..."
"Yeah, fuck you, too, Tangerine," Gouda sneered. "You know, Olive, your friend fuckin' shot me."
"Did you deserve it?"
Gouda paused, "Doesn't matter. All right, whatever, let's get goin', I'm supposed to get you to the safe house."
Everyone piled into the car, you in the passenger seat to give Gouda a rundown on the train's events. Why you needed the safe house. Why you got off before Kyoto, like was agreed upon. He agreed it was all a mess, telling you the team was still gathering information on the White Death's plan - something in motion that would've ended all your lives. Upon arriving at the safe house, you thanked Gouda, him telling you Constance would arrive in a few days to ensure you lot were smuggled out of the country - not trusting other methods as the White Death had associates planted everywhere.
The house was stalked fully with fresh food in the kitchen, a wall of racked weapons, money in a safe, and reinforced panic rooms in the event of an attack.
"Nice, very nice," Ladybug complimented, looking around the place. "Better than what we've got..."
"Pick your rooms, we'll be here a couple days. My handler's gonna work on getting us outta here without the White Death knowing. Maria negotiated terms for you, Mr. Bug, so you're staying with us."
Everyone spread out, finding the bedrooms fully equipped with new clothes and other necessities, like toiletries. Everyone was able to get long, hot showers, and eventually, when you exited the bathroom in a robe with a towel used to dry your hair, you found Lemon sitting on the living room couch - listening intently to the news report.
"Might wanna see this, love," Brian frowned, making room on the couch for you to sit.
"What's up?"
He nodded at the screen, you watching as a Japanese news station reported on a runaway bullet train that obliterated a local town. Your eyes widened, mindlessly translating the segment; Tangerine eventually joining you two. "What're you two watchin'?" He asked softly, standing behind the couch with his hands on your shoulders. From the opposite door that housed a few other bedrooms, Ladybug entered; the news catching his attention, too.
There was a tension in the air that couldn't be described.
"The White Death sent a fucking bullet train off the rails. All those innocent people..." You whispered, camera crews capturing the devastation and destruction caused. You realized, "He set us all up, he was gonna kill us all."
"Thank God for Constance. What the hell did we do to him, though?" Lemon wondered. "I mean, have any of us actually done a job for or against the White Death before?"
"No clue," Ladybug answered nervously, "but whatever we did, really pissed him off if that's his retaliation. What was the motive, though? Why put us all on the same mission? Same train?"
"Sounds like a vendetta," you answered, the room going silent as everyone contemplated your words. "C'mon, lads, 's been a day. Should get some shut eye."
"Yeah, yeah," Lemon sighed, "good idea. You'll let us know when Constance makes contact?"
You nodded in agreement, bidding them all a goodnight before heading for your designated room. It wasn't more than ten minutes later, you sat on the bathroom floor with an array of medical supplies spread around you in an effort to clean your wounds, when a knock sounded at your door. "Come in," you permitted, tending to a decent sized gash in your hairline.
"You all right?" Tangerine asked softly, leaning in the doorframe of your bathroom. He was dressed down in a pair of joggers and a black wife beater.
"Peachy keen, love."
"You know, this image, right here," he gestured to you, the blood drops on the pristine floor, and all the supplies you required, "is why I didn't want you involved."
You nodded slowly, "Yeah, but it's just the name of the game, you know?"
"Need help?"
"No, I'm about done," you sighed, tightening the gauze around your thigh, "but you can help me up, though."
He smirked and offered his hand, helping hoist you to your feet and sigh as he looked you over. You breezed past him, patting his chest under a blood-stained button up; entering your bedroom and dropping onto the bed to rub your tired feet. You watched Tan follow you, a question on the tip of his tongue that couldn't quite take form.
But Tangerine was a man of action, so he abandoned his words and knelt in front of you; caressing your jaw and cheek to sweep his thumb over the apple of your cheek. You were ready to question his unusually soft demeanor when he leaned in and pressed a sultry kiss to your lips - sucking the breath from your lungs.
You hummed in contentment when he pulled back with a small smirk, whispering, "Been wanting t'do that for ages."
"Took you long enough," you breathed, surging forward to wrap your arms securely around his neck and meet in a messy, passionate kiss that made both your heads spin.
Slowly, you felt Tan rise from his position and moved back on the bed to give him room to crawl over you; kiss never ceasing, only a tangled mess of lips, tongue, and teeth. You moaned with greed when his tongue swept against the seam of your lips, being granted access, letting your mouth mingle and dance together in unbridled passion you weren't even aware Aaron could harness.
"Fuck," you whimpered when he detached from your mouth and started down your neck; licking, scraping his teeth, creating a legion of markings as he went. After years of loving him at a distance, this entire ordeal felt surreal; as if in a dream or alternate universe. His hands squeezed your waist before drifting downward, caressing your hips, hoisting your uninjured leg up his hips before grinding his swelling cock into your pantie-covered cunt.
Your hands daintily fumbled with the material of his shirt, quickly shucking the material from his sculpted torso. You knew he was fit, but seeing him bare like this was something else entirely - mouth salivating, but being unable to truly appreciate him in his glory. You were both littered in bruises and cuts, evidence from fighting the entire night; careful with the injuries, happy with the soft, gentle way you caressed one another.
His hands moved to the tie of your robe, pulling the knot to release; able to slowly push the material aside and look down at your exposed flesh. No bra, no shirt, only a pair of panties under that robe. He licked his lips, meeting your eyes again. "C'mere," he whispered, sitting back, "waited too long, fuckin' hell."
You smirked and sat up, the both of you locking eyes and stripping from your cloth barriers as fast as you could. Reaching for him again, you crashed back into the mound of soft pillows, keeping him close; legs spread to accommodate his slender hips, holding his neck and shoulders to keep him where you wanted.
Tangerine grunted when you reached for his cock, stroking him slowly to full mast. Your lips were sticky, wet tongues wagging against one another to create webs of saliva when he pulled back. Gently knocking your hand away, Tangerine shimmied down your body, lips pressing quick pecks anywhere he could reach; pausing at your nipples and biting harshly.
You yelped with pleasure, back arching, Tangerine smirking at the reaction - mouth covering one breast as his hand pawed at the other to let his fingers pinch and tweak your nipple. His tongue flattened against your sternum, looking up to meet your eyes as he continued down your battered body until his face was nestled between your thighs. "Oh, Jesus fuck!" You moaned when he took his first taste.
He hummed, "Exactly my thoughts. Fuckin' hell, tastes bloody delightful - fuck me." He grunted and dove back in, latching his lips around your clit and using the fingers of his dominant hand to plunge knuckle-deep in your sloppy warmth. "That's a good girl," he praised, using two fingers to pump in and out, in and out, in and out - your body twitching as pleasure mounted to make you unable to lay still. "Mhm, look so fuckin' pretty like this - spread out, all f'me. Can't get tired of this sight," he moaned, lapping at your wetness.
"Aaron," you begged, gripping the curls at the crown of his head, grinding your hips up to his mouth. "Oh, God, yes, yes," you encouraged, breathing turning sharp and shrill. For a moment, you completely forgot where you were and why you were in a safe house; reality melting away when fully enraptured in Tangerine. "There, right there, holy shit," you whimpered when he prodded that one special place of your inner walls.
"Gotcha, love, I gotcha," he mumbled, sucking and flicking his tongue against your pearl as he focused fully on that spongey spot; causing a wave of slick to generate on his tongue. He grunted, bicep flexing as he pumped his digits faster and faster; his other hand laid across your lower belly to hold you in place.
"Shit!" You met a long-awaited crescendo, a little embarrassed by how quick you met your end - having been a few months since you were intimate with anyone.
But my God, none of them compared to Aaron. His body was slick with a light sheen of sweat, his mustache scraping your sensitive bud with his fingers still working against you. You tried to wriggle away, but Tan held you in place, his other hand now holding one of your thighs wide for his benefit. You forgot there were other occupants in the house, moaning and whimpering the longer Aaron lapped at your essence and messily fingered you.
You could've cried from the pleasure, pulling on his curls as a second orgasm washed over you. You, too, were now sweating, stomach knotted and legs beginning to shake slightly; thighs closing around his ears as your muscles contracted.
Tangerine chuckled when he pulled back, taking one more nip at your swollen and sensitive clit; sighing in satisfaction as he looked up at you, evidence of your pleasure smeared around his mouth, chin, and mustache. Cheekily, he wiped around his mouth, sucking his fingers clean while you tried to catch your breath.
"Jesus Christ," you chuckled.
"Yeah?"
"Oh, yeah," you grinned, tugging on his curls again to indicate you wanted him back up with you. He didn't waste time to crawl over you, and when in place, you reached for his warm cock to place at your entrance.
"Oi, hang on, gotta rubber - "
"I'm on birth control, we're okay," you rushed. "Unless you're dirty?"
"Nah, love, I don't fuck nobody raw," he smirked, "but there's a first time for everything, huh?" Aaron laughed almost cruelly when he pushed his hips forward and notched his cock's head inside you, pausing a single moment to watch your reaction as he sunk deeper to stretch you out.
Maybe you had been depriving yourself all these years, Tan's cock being a size, length, and girth you've not handled before. Nobody compared, your cunt weeping with joy at finally having a challenge worthwhile; his balls swinging before being trapped between your bodies. He made a noise, a mix of a moan and whimper, readjusting his hold on you so he held one thigh and the other was supporting his weight by your head.
Your hand laid on his waist, the other around his neck; eyes locked in a passionate connection when he began moving. Your mouth opened in shock, huffing for air, unable to look away - blue eyes pinning you in place. His mouth descending onto yours, rolling his hips to create friction; cock head prodding your gummy walls as the muscles in his back and shoulders flexed with each movement. You lifted a hand to hold his cheek, tongues swirling around one another, Aaron increasing his pace a fraction.
Your nails dug into his flesh, leaving trails of raised, red scratches in their wake - yet it was as if he didn't even notice. "Know I love you, yeah?" Aaron whispered, veins in his neck protruding; heart hammering.
"Yeah," you nodded, wanting him impossibly closer, "yeah, Aaron, I love you, too, holy shit."
Maybe emotional intimacy turned you on more than you ever realized. He clenched his teeth, both hands pressed onto the mattress to support himself as he started to thrust faster. "Not gonna last, love, not with the way you're squeezin' me," he warned, a few stray curls falling over his forehead, his golden medallion swinging and knocking gently against your chin. "Jesus, fuck, you feel so fucking good," he rambled, "like you were fuckin' made for me - Goddamnit."
"We're idiots for waiting so long," you moaned.
"Won't ever be that stupid again," he laughed gently, looking down between you to watch himself disappear and reappear in and out of you; coated in your slick, veins of his cock now throbbing as he felt the familiar coil begin to tighten.
His thumb pressed to your clit and rubbed, your moans getting louder and longer; own hands groping your breasts and tweaking your nipples to add to the sensations Tangerine provided. "Baby," you whined, "'M close - "
"Get there, love, c'mon," he begged, "can't hold back - wanted this f'so long, fuck!" One hand slapped his away to let you control your clit, Tangerine grinning, "Naughty girl. Shit, that's a sight, innit?"
"Don't stop!"
Aaron growled, pinching his brows in concentration as he snapped his hips, the sounds of his balls slapping against you clapping around the room; mingling with your moans, groans, whimpers, and the thick smell of sex that hung in the air. "Feels so fuckin' good," he mumbled, straining himself to resist. "Tight and warm, Jesus fuck, my love, you're perfect - so fucking perfect - Goddamnit."
"There, there, there," you chanted, rubbing your clit vigorously while Aaron dissolved his restrain to hammer into your core with sloppy movements. "Yes, oh, fuck, yes, yes, yes! Please, Aaron, yes, right there, baby, please - don't stop!"
"Fuckin' cum for me, c'mon, love, let it go," he growled, teeth scraping over your collarbone before latching in a gentle bite on your shoulder. "That's it, there it is," Aaron moaned, feeling the restrictive flutter of your cunt, "good girl, good fuckin' girl, that's it."
Your mind went blank, unable to process anything other than Aaron's cock still hammering into you at a brutal pace; the entire bed creaking and rattling against the wall. You whimpered, lips parting when he didn't stop, encouraging, "Need you t'cum, baby, please. Wanna feel you in me - want your cum, fucking need it. C'mon, Aaron, c'mon, love, finish in me - fucking fill me, please, I need it."
"Yeah? Need it?" He grunted, cheeks flushing.
"So bad, need your cum so bad!"
He grit his teeth, humping all the faster before the warmth of your cavern became too much. "Shit!" Tangerine shouted, taking two more rolling thrusts before fully sheathing himself in you as rope of sticky, thick cum painted your inner walls. "Oh, holy hell," he panted, keeping himself still but his arms trembling to support himself as he pulled back only slightly. "All right?" He checked, glancing to where you two were conjoined. "You good?"
"Perfect," you nodded, petting up and down his sides as if entranced and in disbelief this happened. He felt so soft all of a sudden, a stark contrast to his stoic and aggressive personality. "You all right?"
He grunted and retracted his hips, cock springing free to let him crash on the bed beside you; both your lungs working in tandem to attempt to even out. "Absolutely, so fuckin' good," he told you, both staring at the ceiling for a moment before his head turned to look at you. He grinned slyly, chuckling, "That really happened?"
"Think so."
"Fan-fuckin'-tastic," he mused. "Stay put a second, love," he whispered, standing from the bed to venture into the bathroom. After a moment, he returned with a warm and damp washcloth, helping you clean up the cum leaking from your cunt; wiping away the messiness. He cleaned himself as well, you crawling under the covers of the bed - not bothering to redress.
When Tan joined you again, he snuggled into the sheets and opened his arm to welcome you into his side. It was weird, you usually hated sleeping with anyone, finding it too hot and restrictive, but laying there with Tangerine, you felt incredibly at peace.
"You know Constance isn't gonna be here for a couple days," you mentioned casually.
"Uh-huh."
"Think I just found our past time."
"Oh, darlin'," Tangerine chuckled, "we're not leavin' this bed."
"We'll have to eat."
"Least that Ladybug twat can do is bring us our food, eh?"
But you paused to consider something, laid on his chest and idly tracing the scars on his beefy chest. "Hey, Aaron?" You whispered.
"Hmm? What is it, love?"
"What's gonna happen when we leave here?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, here, in Japan, we're together... But when we go home t'London, back to reality, what's gonna happen?"
"What? You mean, with us?"
"Yeah."
He snickered, "Why would anything change, love? I'm not just in love with you, here, in Japan, but everywhere - wholeheartedly. So, when we go back, we make this work. No matter what it takes."
"Really?"
Aaron grinned, "'Course, love. Went four long years without even seein' yah, I have no plans t'let you go again - not so soon, not ever." He stretched and tucked his free arm behind his head, "You're stuck with me, doll. That all right with you?"
You grinned up at him, "Perfect by me."
His lips found yours again, starting a very noisy night that made both Lemon and Ladybug clamp pillows over their ears.
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requesting rules and masterlist
Bullet Train masterlist
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Part 13- goddamn when you're young
"My heart plays the songs of my lost years. My scars are a church for my old fears. My body's a wreck, but I don't care, I swear. So say a prayer, gotta lift me up, goddamn when you're young in America." -Young In America by Barns Courtney
Masterlist Part 12
Jazz felt the shockwave of the bomb seconds before the sound reached them. Concussive, lethal, far too close as Jazz pushed Jason to the ground, trying to shield him with her body. It was instinct to protect her loved ones, her body was near indestructible after all. 
Chunks of wall and metal rained down on them, striking Jazz in the back but not forcing her down just yet, making sure to keep Jason tucked as far under her as possible and cradling his head. The debris hurt but ultimately couldn’t harm her, but they were stuck under until it was safe to move. 
“Jason?” Jazz murmured, hearing still sensitive from the shockwave. He was still under her, shallow breaths against her sternum proof he was alive, but Jazz needed to hear his voice. 
“Jason, talk to me.” She tried again, this time shuffling a bit to get some debris off her spine that was uncomfortable. 
She felt him speak against her, “Jazz.” His speech was slurred so her name came out more like ‘ass’, funny it would be in any other moment, but not now that she felt like one for not being able to protect her boyfriend from what killed him previously. He wasn’t alone this time, Jazz was here and she wasn’t going to let go until she absolutely had to. 
“It’s ok, Jay, I got you.” She promised, “We have to move.” Time was running out, just like her faith in this shitty apartment to hold itself together after such a blast. She had to get them both out of here, but-
Her train of thought was interrupted by something warm on her thigh. Jazz didn’t need to guess what it was from the smell alone. 
Blood. 
It wasn’t hers, no it had the tinge of corrupted ecto to it and held Jason’s scent just on the surface. 
Fuck, he’d been hurt. 
Jazz cursed out loud and shifted again, forcing debris away from the two of them so she could summon her sword. It was dangerous to rip open a portal from below, but she had no other choice. Thankfully, she was skilled enough to create a directional difference on the other side, so no debris would fall on them and they themselves wouldn’t have to plummet from above. 
Channeling her energy towards her hand, Jazz released her hold on Jason’s head as she felt the cool metal of her sword handle settle into her palm, vibrating slightly from being called forth. 
Envisioning the Far Frozen, her sword vibrated more strongly in acceptance before she imagined where she wanted the portal and with far more effort that she should have expended, Jazz thrusted her sword into the floor beneath them. 
Her beautiful sword, her Faithkeeper, hummed as the fabric of reality was torn asunder and allowed for the Infinite Realms to bleed through, Jazz held her breath as Jason’s muffled scream echoed in her chest as they sunk through her portal to be embraced by winter frost. 
It wasn’t easy to let Jason be taken from her grasp, even if it was Frostbite himself who cradled her lover to his soft fur. The Yeti had come bounding across the snow to her side, ready to fight an army but only to be greeted by Jazz’s teary face as she cradled the love of her life to her chest. 
Frostbite didn’t say anything as he brought them both back to the tribe. 
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Jazz refused to leave Jason’s side even as he was stitched up, gently carding a shaking hand through his dark hair, wanting nothing more than to wrap him up in a blanket and hide him from the world. He had been hurt in her apartment, on her watch, in her haunt. It was unacceptable. 
Danny would no doubt be investigating the explosion that had occurred in his haunt, even if Jazz’s tear in reality hadn’t alerted him to the fact that something was very wrong. She hadn’t tasted any corrupted ectoplasm in the air, which the GIW unknowingly used in their weapons post-Fenton death and lack of access to the Realms, but still didn’t eliminate them as suspects. 
The question was- Why? If Jazz could answer that then she’d eventually find the culprit and properly deal with them. 
(Eviscerate them.) 
But not right now, Jason was more important than murder getting on the trail of whoever was idiotic enough to hurt the man she loved. 
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By the time Jason woke up, Jazz had zero doubts she would have to come clean about everything spooky going on. 
His blue eyes were narrowed In contemplation as he digested her words, her explanation of where they were, what happened, why they were there and so on. 
He didn’t seem angry, which she took as a good sign. 
“So I’m a Revenant.” The word sounded wrong in the air between them, bitter with the memory of death, his death. 
“You were, but now-“ 
He cut her off, “I’m a Liminal.” 
Jazz nodded, softly rubbing her thumb over his hand she held in her own, comforted by the rhythm of his pulse against her fingers. 
“And you’re like me?” It was a question, one of hope that Jason wasn’t alone, that someone would understand. 
“Yes, I’m a liminal too.” They had time to get into the finer details of their respective liminality, Proto-Cores and all. For right now, the basics were enough. 
Jason fixed his gaze back on her, searching her features for something, something he clearly found much to her bewilderment, “You’re Regent.” 
It was spoken with awe and sadness. Jason knew what she had done to the Fentons, to her proginators, but he still wasn’t angry. 
She didn’t answer him with words, only lifting his hand to her lips to leave a kiss on his palm. Many things would need to be discussed later, but for now they had this moment to rest. 
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Frostbite allowed them to stay in the healing tent for a day cycle, content with Jason’s vitals and ecto-levels left the room, but not before sparing Jazz a knowing look as she held fast to her boyfriend. Yes, the old Yeti knew the answers to several questions of hers and it only served to further tie the two liminals together. 
Jason, for his part, was calm and resting peacefully despite how his temperature began to fluctuate every so often, not as bad as when he’d first been brought to the Realms though. Further proof that he was settling in well as a Proto-core liminal, but Jasmine still worried every time a shiver ran through him. She didn’t want to invade his space without his consent, especially now that it wasn’t life threatening enough that she had to use her own Proto-core heat, but she still wanted nothing more than to curl into his chest and block out the world. 
“Jazz….” Jason mumbled, drawing the Regent back to her love. He was somewhat conscious again, but still ready to be dragged back under. 
“Yeah, Jay?” Jasmine responded, hand squeezing his own lightly where she had yet to let go. 
Her love didn’t answer, lifting up his opposite arm from the one she held captive and Jazz took the initiative embarrassingly quick to climb over and settle against his side in a familiar fashion as they would on her bed. 
(Jazz loved the smell of him on her sheets.)
(Gunpowder, petrichor and something uniquely Jason.)
“‘M sorry, Jay.” The red head mumbled, head resting against his chest right above the steady beat of his heart. There were many things she had to apologize for in this lifetime (and never would), but for Jason she felt they were necessary. He’d been nothing but good to her, watching over her as she walked home late at night, softly reading to her by lamplight, cooking her favorite food… he was her perfect match. 
Her soulmate. 
Despite how bad she wanted to mock the overused cliche, Jazz could not dispute its validity at any angle other than sheer audacity of it happening to her of all people. 
(The one lost in the dark.) 
Perhaps it was meant to be, she mused, with her proclivity towards the darkness of mind and soul that her other half would possess a proto-core of shadows. The same ones that hid him, aided him and now gave him life in a completely ironic sense. 
(Not dead.) 
(One foot in the grave.)
(Cat in a box.)
(What are we today?) 
“No.” Jason rumbled underneath her ear in the same baritone she loved to hear. He didn’t say anything more, so Jazz left him to fall back asleep. They would talk more later anyways. 
For now, Jazz was left to her thoughts. 
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Danny’d been about to take a sip of his milkshake when the ripple of sheer terror came over him, body and core. One that he’d only felt when Amity was pulled into the Realms, when his people were hurt and terrified. 
Jazz. 
He didn’t even bother to say goodbye to Signal, the Sunshine child startled by Danny’s sudden departure- no he literally started sprinting in the direction of his haunt, where Jazz should be, not even dropping his milkshake as he ran. The meta was probably going to follow him but he wasn’t all that concerned, hell he’d take Sunshine over Stabby any day… but Jazz! 
Jazz was in trouble! 
The ripple was her effect on his core, a side effect of a portal being opened within the bounds of his haunt. Usually he didn’t really pay attention to it, other than a passing thought that she was back home safe, but terror at the same time? No. Jazz was in trouble and he needed to be there now. 
(And he fucking forgot he could fly. )
Tossing his milkshake over his shoulder to where the meta was almost about to grab him by the arm, Danny ducked out of sight and transformed into his ghostly alter, rings of light barely making a complete pass before he was off in the air. 
He left a very baffled daylight hero, covered in boo-berry delight, watching him go.
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Duke, not for the first time, had the thought of- Add that to the list of ‘must never let B find out’. 
Prime adoption bait Danny Nightingale was prime bat bait because he was a vigilante already. 
He’d seen the strange shadow shapes around the teenager ever since they’d first met on a random Gotham rooftop, with Danny lounging on a lawn chair with coffee and a look that screamed he wished for the sweet release of death, but he’d put it down to ‘meta-in-hiding’ and closed the case. 
(Not before getting the background on the kid thanks to Oracle.) 
It wasn’t the first time his ghost sight had outed a meta and Duke was positive it wouldn’t be the last, but Danny had been the first to have an overlay rather than an aura. Others, metas included, had silhouettes of themselves of colors associated with them as a being. Batman was charcoal grey, Jason was red, Tim was brown and Duke was yellow. Rarely had he’d seen an overlay of something else, something other and familiar to the hero. 
Standing over Danny’s shoulder, ever still and watchful with its green, green gaze fixed unflinching forwards was a King. 
(A Phantom King.)
Skin tinted light blue as if suffering hypothermia, stark white hair braided across one shoulder with several glass beads tied into the strands that clinked with every shift Danny made in an echo of wind chimes, sharp features set in a neutral expression as if frozen in place. Snowflakes dusted the light blue collar of a black cloak fastened at the collarbone with a shard of ice entrapping a green flame and galaxies lazily floating across the span of the cloak, though with every movement it parted to reveal a white shirt tucked haphazardly into black jeans.
The being wore a crown of green ice on its head that reflected the sunlight. 
Duke felt in his bones that should he dare try anything against Danny that he would come face to face with the otherworldly being. 
(Why did the being look like a victim of hypothermia?) 
 (Why was it attached to Danny?) 
(And why did he just see a variation of it fly away?) 
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It wasn’t until Duke was about to fall asleep some hours later that the realization struck him about what he’d seen standing behind Danny. 
He’d seen the future Phantom. 
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Phantom frosted over the smoldering embers of what had been his sister’s apartment building, the remnants clinging to a broken frame like a shambling corpse. He’d not been able to hear anyone in need, most importantly he couldn’t hear Jazz though. Her apartment was on the top floor with roof access, but it was empty of life forms much to his relief. Jazz had probably gotten out using a portal. 
Phantom lingered for a few moments in the debris of his sister’s home, carefully sorting through for anything salvageable that couldn’t wait. Most of the shelves were furthest from the blast zone so Jazz’s books were going to be fine, though singed and ash coated alongside the contents of her closet, which included a hidden safe Phantom phased a hand through. 
His hand touched something glass, thrumming with power underneath his fingers and familiar. 
(Pure ecto.)
(What Jazz needs to remain alive.) 
Phantom hurriedly retrieved the vials, shoving them into his chest for safekeeping before moving on towards where he suspects the bomb was placed. 
It was odd.
He’d been expecting corroded remains of a cannablized Fenton explosive, the ones he’d been familiar with down in the lab, but this was plainly human for even a goopy ghouly ghosty like him to see. 
Not a trace of corrupted ectoplasm either, a sure sign of GIW presence due to the nature of their technology. The GIW wouldn’t plant something like this for the hell of it right? It’s not ‘anti-ghost’ in the slightest! 
Who else would target Jazz, the most ecto-contaminated being on Earth? 
(Unless she wasn’t the target.) 
Definitely human oriented explosive, timed and locked firmly into place with what looks to be a steel plate bolted into the floorboards, clearly meant to be left unattended for a long period of time. Delayed detonation. 
(Explosives were never his strong suit.) 
(But he’d learnt at the knee of Jack Fenton.) 
(And so he knew many things he wished he didn’t.) 
(What his beating heart looks like.) 
(“-molecule by molecule!”) 
This wasn’t meant for a liminal being, but for humans. 
Either someone targeted Jazz without that bit of extra knowledge or she wasn’t the target. 
(Sure looked like it though.) 
(Right in the middle of the empty apartment next door.) 
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“I’m telling you, his tracker stopped working right there!” 
Tim didn’t like going outside most days. The sun hurt his eyes and he hated being swarmed by people. 
(Ugh, people.) 
Yet, here he was, in the outernet with only sunglasses and a ball cap to ward off pesky reporters on his way to the last location of his most murderous sibling at the edge of said sibling’s territory. 
(Tim hated Crime Alley with a vengeance.) 
The Ridge wasn’t where he’d ever expect to find Jason, the older man preferring to remain in the Alley if he wasn’t wandering Gotham proper. The Ridge was neglected and crime ridden up to a few months previously, the vigilantes Phantom and Regent claimed the territory as their own to protect. It was kind of awe-inspiring to study the real-time data plummet with their presence, though the big Bat himself wasn’t pleased with openly active ‘Metas’ in his city despite their obvious positive influence. 
Phantom was once a vigilante from Amity Park, Illinois, the town that claimed itself to be the most haunted place on Earth. It’s population was halved on its opinion of the ghost, almost split perfectly between generations on whether or not the teenager was a hero or the one controlling the attacking ghosts. With what Tim knew now thanks to the Ghost Files, he was of the firm belief that the vigilante was only defending his haunt from both ghost hunters and ghosts. Major Justice League level threats had been handled by Phantom almost single-handedly, though Batman had been livid to discover that someone had classified the distress calls from the small town as pranks. 
(He’d listened to every single one.)
(There was nothing about them that screamed prank.) 
(And no, they still hadn’t found who had committed such a fuck up.) 
It was fortunate that Phantom was a Protector spirit with all the powers available to him, not to mention the grit and resilience he displayed in every major fight he threw himself into. Mad respect to the ghost boy, couldn’t have been easy. 
(Though Tim could never unsee the death and rebirth of that same hero.) 
(The scream echoes in his ears when he thinks too hard about it.) 
Unfortunately for him, his thoughts screeched to a halt when he found the location he’d been sent to. 
A burnt shell of an apartment building held together by Phantom’s ice, firefighters carefully searching for anyone left trapped inside, civilians loitering around like ants at a picnic. No one spared him more than a passing glance, but Tim still noted the weary gazes and tried to get information. No one could say anything more than an explosion happened, with Phantom following close behind to form Ice on the building in an effort to keep it intact, before the ghost kid entered himself and Phantom had yet to leave. 
Jason was in the building when the explosion happened, but without a time to match the tracker read out to they wouldn’t know if he’d been killed in the blast, tracker affected by the shockwave or pinned down by debris.  
“Hey babs, did Jason have a safe house here?” Tim asked, soft spoken into his phone so as to not be overheard. 
Barbara didn’t answer, but Tim had a feeling he wasn’t going to like whatever she said next. 
“…in a way?” 
“You just answered a question with a question.” He accused, a bit of shock coloring his words. Barbara definitely knew something she wasn’t sharing. 
“Jason might have… a girlfriend…” 
“What.” 
It came pouring out, “Its so cute, they’re so cute. He just adores her and she’s so sweet to him, I’ve never seen him smile so much and he’s so calm-“ 
“Woah, woah, slow down, Jason has a girlfriend?” If it wasn’t so concerning from his angle, the explosion wracked building in front of him, he would be cackling at the juicy blackmail as only a younger sibling can. 
“Mhm, Jasmine Nightingale, twenty years old and applicant for Gotham University currently pending. Younger brother is Danny Nightingale who often talks to Signal whenever Duke crosses his path, obsessed with Space and science, currently attending Gotham Academy. Jasmine has a trust fund allowance from the estate of her presumed dead godfather, but that’s the only thing that stands out.” 
(Jasmine and Jason.) 
(Tim felt happy for his older brother despite their history.) 
“This is her apartment, isn’t it.” 
Tim didn’t need Barbara to answer that either, the silence spoke for itself. 
“Well, shit.” 
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A/N: 3k words for you! @meditating-cat had suggested making the last section more dramatic, but I want to save that for the next part where I want Bruce to react. And now Jason finally knows the truth! I can't wait to write more about him as Hood with Regent out in Gotham.
Yes, beta read by @meditating-cat who also gave me some song suggestions. If you have any of your own please don't hesitate to message me! I love music and often use it for inspiration in my works.
In fact the very last part of this series was written first as a draft before I even made Regent!Jazz or Vigilante!Jazz, because of a Katy Perry song.
It has always been a Hardcover pairing though.
Thanks for reading!
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thatbanditqueen · 3 months
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A Basic Training Snippet
Life has been very cruel and gotten between me and my favorite pastime... writing delusional scenarios in which I, I mean my original characters, dated Elvis Presley. So I thought for fun I would just share a very short snippet from the chapter of Basic Training I am working on, in which Elvis invites Bess to spend the weekend with him in Waco at the house of his friend, DJ and TV host Eddie Fadal.
This is very rough, I am not sure if it sounds like Elvis, I need to go back through it once I finish the chapter. I haven't even had anyone alpha this. However, I had at one point told @be-my-ally I would participate in the writing prompt "weather" and post Sunday (yesterday) and so this is my very pathetic attempt to just post something that at least mentions weather in passing...
If you want to read or catch up on this WIP you can find it here
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“Well, you know I’m mainly a legs and ass man, through and through, but boy oh boy, Bessie is stacked. I tell ya what. Fa sho. I don’t know how it's possible, but they’re even bigger when you got ‘em in ya hands. Why you nodding Lamar, you ain’t ever gotten to second base, quit lyin.”
The rain had stopped by the time Bess opened her eyes again to find the bed empty, though she could still hear the drip drop of water through the hole. There it was, like an inverted nipple in the middle of the new glossy pink wall, a perfect round sphere with layers of drywall caved in around the edges where the firework had shot through. The smell of cigarettes wafted in from outside, along with a set of men's voices.  Bess was about to call to them when she heard Elvis say the word “Anita.”
There was laughter, then the sound of slaps and skids along concrete, as if a scuffle had broken out, followed by more laughter.
“Shit, but you’re wrong, Rex, cuz there are really only two types of girls. See, with ‘Nita, she is a good girl, but she puts it all on the table. If I’m happy, she’s happy, that’s all she wants. She let's it all hang out. All I gotta do is look at her and smile and she’s gonesville. But then, then there are the ones who keep it all tied up. You know, you saw it Lamar, when I come down here, Anita was ballin her damn eyes out. Now Bess, Bess’d never let you see her cry. Not if she can halp it. She plays it cool. But when you touch her you can feel her vibrating underneath that ice, jus enough to know her motor's running. And boy, when you get it going, what a motor. When she cries out, man, you know ya really earned it. Know what I mean?" 
There was some muffled laughter, and Bess couldn’t quite hear everything, but what she did hear made her face flush a deep crimson red.
“Oh, well I found out last night.  I swear, Bess tastes so fresh and sweet, I know I’m the first guy she let touch her.”
“Nah, a college girl?”
“What do you know, huh, lardass? Reckon I been with seventy five, no, I mean a hundred or more girls. Trust me, I know women, that girl spent college with her nose in her books.”
“Now you got your nose in her - OW - what the fuck?”
“I don’t wanna hear you talk bout her like that, got it?”
“But you just -”
“But you just, but you just, just mind ya goddamn manners.”
Bess sat there, unsure if she wanted to keep listening, but as she turned she was distracted by a dark set of eyes staring her from the doorway. She pulled the strap of her nightie up, and smoothed her hair back as she smiled at Janice Fadal.
“Mommy told me not to wake you up, so I’ve just been sitting here waiting. Ready to do my make up again?”
Bess nodded, relaxing as she stood and patted the little girl’s head.
“Sure, just let me get dressed, huh?’
Then Janice’s slick little tongue curved up and licked the bottom of Bess’ wrist.
“I don’t think you taste like ice cream at all. More like salt. “
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more to come, let me know what you think....
@whositmcwhatsit @vintageshanny @from-memphis-with-love @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll @missmaywemeetagain @ellie-24 @lookingforrainbows @arrolyn1114 @moonchild-daniella @richardslady121 @ab4eva @i-r-i-n-a-a @eliseinmemphis @kingdomforapony @everythingelvispresley @dkayfixates @artlover8992 @freudianslumber @amydarcimarie @toreigh @18lkpeters @yynneessmons @ashtag6887 @waiting4brucewayne2adoptme @returntopresley @rjmartin11 @bigromansgirl @louisejoy86 @notstefaniepresley
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clay-tries-his-best · 11 months
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! atsv spoilers !
when i sat down in my theatre seat to see atsv im telling you i was being the most autistic fuck you've ever witnessed. you could practically see the sparkles in my eye, dude.
the spot. my godddd he's so silly. the marketing ploy to make him seem like the side villain from the trailers was so fucking smart. I really thought that Miguel was going to be the main villain considering him fighting miles in pracgjcalky every trailer ever and being in the post-credits scene of itsv. and miles dealing with having to be everywhere at once was very realistic and gave me the classic "oh my god this poor boy this is painful to watch". oh and gwen's beginning scene of the drums just gave me the feeling that the movie was going to be fantastic. like, betrayal, amazing visuals, more gwen?? already a wonderful start. also the fact that the spot's whole reason to turn into a major villain is that nobody, not even the person who caused his disfigurement, would take him seriously- like- HUH???? perfect. wonderful. bro just wanted miles to pay attention to him for a little while.
Pavitr and Hobie were also really great additions to the spider team. Despite the fact that Hobie's accent was so thick and deep that I couldn't understand what he was saying a good third of the time, he still managed to work his way into my top 5 characters of the movie. THAT is good character building. At first I thought he was going to be the stereotypical love rival, considering his first mention was miles getting jealous of him and gwen being friends. I was worried that was how the story was actually going to go when he upstaged miles by breaking done the collider force field, but hes actually a really chill and cool guy. pretty sure he even roots for gwen and miles, so that's pretty funny. Pavitr was also super funny with a great character design. " Chai means tea, you're just saying tea tea! " was probably one of my favorite lines / jokes from the whole movie. His world was also very pretty and SUPER detailed. Props to every artist for Mumbatten.
Miguel and Peter B.'s dynamic was really fun to watch as well. This cryptic emo ass mastermind vampire who has watched people die and destroyed a universe next to this middle aged man in a pink fuzzy bathrobe who's oogling over his daughter. also, the line where Miguel said " I've had the right amount of you today " to peter b instead of " I've had enough of you " like the normal saying goes was kinda queer. just saying. but yeah, great villain, and I do want to see him in the final battle against spot, but I eventually don't want him to be the one to beat spot, y'know? If it was to be anyone, it's obviously going to be miles. Whether it's just miles or miles and gwen or miles and the gang gwen assembled at the end of atsv (WHICH HAD SPIDERNOIR YESSS SPIDERNOIR FANS LETS GOOOOOOO I HAD THE STUPIDEST SMILE ON MY FACE WHEN I SAW HIM IM TELLKNG YOU), in the end it's still gotta be miles.
the collider scene with the spot was really cool. spot may be silly, but he's not dumb enough to be " saved " by his archnemesis who only cared about him when he was about to become a transdimensional eldritch horror. boss move. his final form was really pleasing to look at because you can just see the detail that went into it. Looking at some screenshots, I noticed there were a lot of eyes and I'm pretty sure I saw a version of spiderman (original world 1610 peter, possibly?) staring at miles / the audience. despite him not showing up for another hour, hour and a half, I wasn't mad. If a movie can avoid showing the main villain for that long and still have them integrated properly, just, wow. blown away. oh and this part made me even more interested because his beginning ost, spot 1, I think? his random beats and tunes sounded more silly and disorganized and clumsy, like him trying to take the atm. near the end, he got spot 2, which was more shrill and frightening. I'm not musically trained, and I could still tell that it was scarier, and to me, they sounded very similar. To not have too far of a difference between the two and stroke two entirely different chords is just. ugh. wow.
don't even get me started on prowler miles... RAHHH THE CHARACTER AND WORLD DESIGN FOR UNIVERSE 42!!!! it was so beautiful and scary and breathtaking because there is. no. spiderman. when miles's mom didn't know what he was talking about and gwen wasn't really outside, it hit me like a brick in the head. and alternate aaron??? hello??? he made me physically uncomfortable because of how terrifying his face was. i couldnt even tell if he was wearing makeup or he was just that dramatjcally shaded. the turn miles does to see that it was his dad painted on the wall instead of aaron.... GRAHHHHHH
as an aspiring artist, I can say nothing but wow. that movie, the fact that it was 2 HOURS AND 20 MINUTES???? HELLO??? DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH WORK THAT MUSTVE TOOK??? unbelievable. and you know that sony felt bad for making us wait on a cliffhanger, so they probably were around 3/4 done with atsv and started working on beyond, so we didn't have to wait as long as we would've if they finished atsv and then started beyond. I'm so glad that those 5 years in the Sony team paid off, because that. was. amazing. my depression is vaporized. im going feral, going wild, going insane. i will not think of anything else until beyond is out. can't wait to see my bbg spot have his villain moment in March 2024!!! <333
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sakuraryomen01 · 1 year
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Valentino.. /Sukuna Ryomen x Female Reader/ .o4
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warnings: asshole sukuna, college prep. school (aka bitch u at an expensive ass school), former friends to lovers, slow burned love, yuji is sukuna's little brother, getting ignored by childhood crush (*gasp*)
reader: female reader; 23 years of age, college prep.
plot: It's been years since you've moved from country life, since you've forgotten about all the things you used to love about your hometown and where you grew up from... you didn't think it'd chase you to college in the city after almost a decade..
words: 2.004k
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fanfic masterlist: .o1 .o2 .o3 .o4 .o5 .o6 .o7 .o8 .o9 .10 (will be updated..)
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a/n:: Srry for posting the Christmas Special so late loll I was with family for most my time so I wasn't able to meet my own deadline >< Anwyays, I'm hoping to pump out more chapters since this is going to be my next "big" series
~~
Thank you for reading this bit! Enjoy~
. . .
"So, Y/n. When do you plan on giving Mr. Ryomen here his first lesson?"
"L-Lesson?"
Sukuna's eyes widened a little at the news, obviously revealing to the teacher that you hadn't told Sukuna about your future tutoring sessions together. With a heavy sigh, full of annoyance and a little bitterness, Toji Fushiguro stood from his swivel chair and made his way around his desk to gather his things for the day.
"As you should be aware, Y/n has been kind enough to tutor you for the lessons and assignments you had missed the first semester," Toji said, signing out of his laptop and putting it into his bag along with a few folders of homework he was going to grade.
"Tutor.." Sukuna echoed, his eyebrow twitching slightly upwards at the thought. "But I made up for the missing assignments in homeschooling while I was moving here.."
"They were rather poor grades, Mr. Ryomen," Toji responded, his tone cool as he stood and grabbed his, now empty, coffee mug. "I expect a detailed schedule for your sessions and mapped out lesson plans for after classes. You may use my classroom or your dorms to study in, but have those soon or else it'll come out of your grades."
With a check of his watch, Toji made his way out the door and closed it. The click being the single sound that echoed throughout the classroom, breaths tight and quiet.
Sukuna's voice finally broke the silence as he turned to you with a dark glare. "..Tutor?"
"Yes," You answered quickly, your eyes glued to where Toji was before. Swallowing a thick glob of saliva before looking up at Sukuna, a nervous smile on your face. "Sorry I didn't mention it."
"It's pretty fucking late to say sorry!"
Not even a joke could fix your mood, could it?
Sighing, you looked towards the door and returned your gaze to a fuming Ryomen. His eyes were red but shining, jaw clenched but fierce. You couldn't help but find it cute as you giggled, making him more pissed off than before.
"What's got you giggling, huh?!" He barked suddenly, making you hold a hand to your lips as you struggled to hold back the laughs. "I gotta spend time with you now cause of my grades! Fuck.. my day is blessed with good fortune my ass.."
Placing your bag on the desk in front of you, you opened it and shuffled around before finding a notebook, pencil and an eraser.
"Write down the days you are free after classes and the times." You said, passing him the notebook and utensils.
"No."
"Sigh.. Why not?"
"I'm not going to show up, that's why."
You looked up at the stubborn man you used to call a friend and poked his chest, making him practically steam like a train. "Yes you are, your grades will suffer otherwise. C'mon, it's just tutoring."
Sukuna's nose crinkled up at the mere thought of being in the same room. Kudos to him, your happy he hasn't stormed out of the room yet. "Please?"
"Don't." His voice stern before he went mute for another moment. His eyes flickered from the notebook to your face, and back again as he considered thinking about it. "...How many sessions do I need..?"
. . .
That was obviously a poor choice of words.
You were knocking on his door within hours the next day. A gleeful and smug little smirk on your face after classes while he was trying to recover from them. Although you didn't want it to be the only reason, you were secretly hoping to at least bond a little with Sukuna. Since he wasn't the same person he was a decade ago, you wanted to get to know the new him.
It had been years since you both talked to each other, even then after he slammed the door in your face you still had hope. If you weren't going to date, being friends was good enough, that's all you really wanted.
Sure, the first few tries were a little hellish but your hope wasn't faltering. Getting to know him now as an adult was your top mission, aside from helping him get better grades in his classes and pass his midterms of course.
Once he actually opened the door, his hair was damp and you assumed he was straight out of the shower. He was wearing rather loose clothing and a towel around his neck, playing some random movie in his living room from the background noise of his dorm room.
Why did he agree to this torture again?
"How are you alive and walking? Today was hell.." Sukuna muttered, blinking weakly and groaning. After he had opened the door, his eyes got sore the moment he saw your smile. Too bright..
"If I'm honest, I don't know either." You answered, lifting a small bag filled to the brim with snacks to get Sukuna into the mood for studying. "I bought some of your childhood favorites! We can snack on them while we study."
With a chuckle, Sukuna was leaning against his doorway frame, a raised eyebrow and barely lifted his heavy eyelid. "Really? What were they again?"
As your silence only grew as you thought, Sukuna began to laugh. Not a maniac giggle like he used to, but a more simple and relaxed one. Even his sleepy voice added a more adult tone to it, a rapid fire of thoughts invaded your mind for a second. "Poor Y/n. Can't even fathom my favorite candy."
"Well, then tell me!"
He rolled his eyes. "Black licorice."
"....Bullshit."
Watching the sullen look took over your features, your smile disappearing, that was probably the only funny thing Sukuna's seen today. Minus that random video of a dude falling down the stairs that Yuji-kun sent him last night, but he wasn't going to admit that openly.
"Are you going to just stand here?" Sukuna asked, sighing and looking down at you. "You're starting to look desperate."
You flinched at this, whining about how you weren't desperate and so on and so forth. Sukuna's mind wasn't particularly ready for the constant studying for some tests, if you take his midterms into account of course.
"Could you please just come inside and stop whining," Sukuna groaned, removing himself from the doorway and heading towards the small kitchen that was placed next to his living area. "I'm going to take an Aspirin from all your bickering."
"Oi, stop complaining already!"
You huffed and took a seat on his couch (after closing his door of course. You didn't like being disrespectful even though this particular person didn't make you smile much.) "A-Anyways, I decided that working on other subjects would be good to do first before starting the really hard stuff."
"That's fine by me," Sukuna muttered out, gulping down the medicine and getting a sip of water to get it down. "What's your specialty?"
"Mostly Economics," You responded as Sukuna sat down at the coffee table in front of you. "But recently, I've been trying to get better at things that bugged me in my last few years of high school."
He grabbed the towel still hanging around his neck and continued to dry his hair while you put out the lesson plans for other classes you both shared, like your math and such. Thought you both weren't on the same level, Sukuna being a few classes ahead in some, you thought it'd be good practice for your future years.
Though, your mind was always wandering during the study session. You couldn't help but think Sukuna's damp hair was cute, or that his sleepy dimenor was precious. Hell, even his clothes held some adorable qualities to them. Hanging loosely onto his frame while he was writing down notes or reading something.
What was wrong with you? You were going to give up just yesterday, but here you were drooling and ogling over a crush.
"Hey, need help with that?" Sukuna's quiet question makes you jump in your seat. "You aren't paying attention at all, are you? And to think you were the one that volunteered for something like this. Slacker."
"I am not a slacker!" You whined, flipping through a few pages of your notebook. "At least I have some good grades in my classes."
A dark mood was waved over you, making a shiver go up your spine and a nervous smile lift your lips.
"If you're trying to be smart with me, stop it," Sukuna said, tapping his pen on the table and glaring at you. "I'm pretty ahead in all of my classes, it's just my absence in them the first semester is what's kept me behind in one of them."
With a grunt, Sukuna's mind was back on pace with his studying, switching from subject to subject. You watched with awe, a little nervous all the while though. It was so embarrassing that he was breezing by while you struggled once in a while with a question or a phrase.
Within an hour, Sukuna was ready to make some food and get a few shows in before sleeping. "Well, that's all for today anyways."
"Mhm," He mumbled, standing from his area beside the coffee table and heading towards the bathroom to put up his towel from earlier. "You can leave once you get your things.."
That last part made you wince, though it was understandable. It wasn't even a day ago that Sukuna said to keep your distance, and you felt lucky enough to be able to tutor him. Your hope would never falter to trying to at least be friends with him, or be at peace.
Might as well ask now since I have the chance..
"Sukuna?" You asked, looking around the corner just as Sukuna was leaving the bathroom. "I wanted to ask you something before I leave."
"Oh yeah? What's up? Is it about the next studying session?" Sukuna headed to the kitchen to grab some ramen from a cupboard, going to his stove and turning it on to boil some water. "If you can't make it, that's cool. I'll just study alone."
"No, it's not that. I wanted to ask if we could try being friends."
There was silence, and silence was never really a good thing in your area of expertise. You swallowed as Sukuna turned his gaze towards you after putting a pot of water on the burner, eyes half lidded as if he was bored.
"You're just as pushy as before," Sukuna commented, sighing and coming to sit on the couch next to you. "Why do you want to be so friendly with me? Feeling guilty?"
He could practically feel the tension in the room, it was suffocating.
"Yes.." You mustered, feeling your face burn with embarrassment. Of course you felt terrible for not being able to talk to him, or trying to reach out to him. "I want to make up for it, so please, let's at least try being friends."
Another pause, another hard pill to swallow.
"...I'm going to visit Yuji-kun tomorrow," Sukuna started, lifting a hand to slick his hair back as his eyes glided to lock with yours for a moment.
"Come with me then and we'll talk about it."
That last sentence made you smile, and the urge to hug Sukuna and thank him was overpowering. "Th-Thank you.."
"Whatever, just be at the front of the campus after Toji's class to meet me. It's going to take a while to the Hokkaido prefecture."
Your eyes sparkled at this. When did Yuji get there?
"Wipe that look off your face," Sukuna grunted, scrunching his nose at you. "It took a lot of money to get him into a good school, just like it was hard to get me here."
You nodded, working quickly to wipe the smile off your face. It had been too long since you saw Yuji.
"Well, get going. We'll need to get stuff done tomorrow before we can see my little brother."
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a/n: kjskjsksjs it feels so nice to finally finish another chapter!! i hope this one was just as cute so i hope it was worth the wait. honestly, i been wanting to get the chapters a little longer but have been a little lazy with trying to write more. plus, i did say to myself that i wasn't going to make them over 3k words per chapter like Lost Lamb.
Chapter Song Theme: — lana del rey - summertime sadness (official music video)
taglist: @mageyboo, @mzladyd, @mysticwonderlandangel, @sukunaspersonalfleshlight, @kawaiipenguin20, @k-indie, @okkotsufav, @cafeinthemoon93, @pulchritxde, @bontenbunny, @deepinballs, @kleeboomed, @fallenfeversstuff, @fiierytearzx, @wo-ming-bai, @ririkaxbz, @instantgalaxysheep, @watyousayin, @z3r0art, @sukunaobsessed, @lik0, @sukunasfirstlove, @princesstiti14, @nemoyr, @ladywolf44005, @cat-mak20, @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn, @hxlalokidottir, @instantgalaxysheep, @domainofmarie, @the-moongoddess, @dark-n-dirty-duchess, @agentdedf1sh, @sukunastoy, @lyn-soso, @bao-yu-sarah-morningstar-wang-9
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dragonsdendoodles · 3 months
Text
MPHFPC Incorrect Quotes Masterlist 1
Because I like organizing things :)
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No Murder in Walmart
Sitting on the Floor
Stop Undressing Him
You Never Let Me Do Anything
Upside Down Chip Bag
Thumb Condom
Jacob Knows Everything
Lemon Drop Cookie
I Didn't Get My Permit
Suck It
Cocoon Boy
Picnic
Something to Complain About
Patient
A Day of Sensory Issues
Cool Guy Stuff
Watch Me
Egg Shortage
Forgotten How to Fingers
The Last Thing You Registered
Purple
That's a Cockatoo, Actually
Grenades
Can I Cut You?
What's the Point
Adulting
No Thank You
Caffeine and Sugar
Suspicious
Attention Disorder
I Wonder How Painful It Would Be
Daddy Issues
Roadkill
Like Children
Not Short
The Power of Salt
Today's Just Out For My Blood Evidently
Dehydrated
Counterproductive
No Coffee Fuck Off Part 1
Crazy Religious People
The ADHDs
I'm Causing You Pain
Cunt is My WORD, Jacob
Sunset
Morals
Mini Cooper
Dumb Joke
Power Wash
Jelly Beans?
Attention Whore
Five-Second Rule
Lick
Only a Little Bit Satanic
And Whose Fault is That?
You Gotta Dab When You Leave
Bean Water Part 1
/////LIST UNDER CONSTRUCTION/////
*cough* it broke and Levi doesn't wanna fuck with it right now
Bean Water Part 2 (Soy Sass) Yelling It's Your Birthday. Full Circle Mop Juice? An Irish Lad Sugar or Glass Pain in the Ass You Haven't Eaten All Day You're Gonna Papercut My Eyeball! Oh! Helping It's Still 10 pm Have You Lost Object Permanence? NOT a Bean Macaroni You've Met Me That's What She Said British Football No Coffee Fuck Off Part 2 Stop Tickling Me No Comfort Pull Door Not a Child Basically Cake Hugging Lobotomy Hazard to Society You're Just Weak Breakfast of Champions Gifties You Almost Got Me Arrested Cocaine, Obviously Temperature Gun Is That Cheese or Skin? Anarchy Spoons Chip Box Chips Headcanon for Christians The Fuck Word Knives Last Name The Gays Are Coming I Want the Floor
Currently Unposted:
Go to College Since You're Old, and Deaf You've Never Seen a Chalkboard? You Like Trains? Testing Pillows Cheese Part 1 Cheese Part 2 Good Place to Get a Rock I Can Commit War Crimes Matte Black Range Rover Homophobic That's Called Death 10-4 Humidity Pilot Jumping Enoch Stop Drinking Water Okay, Millard Eating You Jelly We Like Murder 12:30 Part 1 12:30 Part 2 Fidget Toy of the Day Gay Month is Dead You Have a Boyfriend? Millard's Book I Prefer "Blessed", Thanks Migraine Are You Crazy? You Dumb Whore I Want a Challenge Spite Debt is Better Not Country Fancy Boy Stop Acting Dead You're Only 5'6 You Are a Smoothie Gaytor Last One at the Table New Nike Motto Even More White Sleep In Dodge Charger Pride Support Group Smudgy Pen Speaking British No Textbooks I Look So Gay Kind of Correctly North Dakota Peanut Allergy It's Fucking Labor Day Light the Hotel on Fire You Know What Else is Weird? Enoch You Do Share Credit Score Wasteful Flannel Bisexual Not an Advocate That is So Real Universal Flannel Who WINKS Anymore? Honest Cars Exploding Watch Your Pronouns Dead Things Chronically Straight Great Liquid Personal Taste Boyfriend Privileges 1:07 Cigarettes? Nerds Gummies I Want a New Brother Out of Character That's Because You're Old Foaming? Big Fork Trigonometry Boy Voice Anxiety Squishy Swedish Fish I'm a Ginger, What Do You Think Oh My God, it's a Man Lengthed Pi Older Than Three Slap-able Catboy Homosexual French Boy and Homosexual Bitch Boy Icing Gremlin 1 and Gremlin 2 No Murder at Walmart: The Sequel Tomatoes No More Husband, Horace The Flu Part 1 Triceratops Loving Murder You Know I Don't Colossal Mess Not All Men Habit of Handling Corpses You're Gay What Color is the Rainbow? Skillet The Flu Part 2 Olives Mad at Me SMART-Smart Spaghettios Smug Mac and Cheese Ooo, Yummy You're Also Nice to Me Dressing, But Crunchy 5'11 Gasoline
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banannabethchase · 4 months
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MoxYuta, an afternoon of windowshopping that may lead to feelings realized
Window Shopping
~
Featuring autistic!Mox
~
“I don’t know,” Yuta says, sighing. “I think Claudio’s going to judge us if we pick the wrong quality of clothes or whatever.” Mox watches as Yuta tugs gently at the fabric, running it between his fingers.
“We’re scoping it out,” Mox suggests. “They wouldn’t actually plan on us picking the jackets, right? Claudio’s too anal for that.”
Yuta snorts. “I can’t believe you just said ‘anal’ when we’re in a,” he looks around. “What’s the name of this store again?”
“Something stupid,” Mox says, shrugging. He yanks at a jacket and flinches. “Don’t know what the shit is, but I hate it."
"Microfiber," Yuta says. He looks at the tag. “Yup. You hate microfiber.”
Mox blinks. “I do?”
Yuta nods. “One of the shirts Bryan got us is microfiber and you always look like you’re bare ass in sand when he makes you wear it. It’s why I convinced Willow to make us those new ones for when we’re training.”
Yuta continues testing new fabrics, design, styles, but Mox doesn’t process any of it. He’s too busy grappling with the realization that Yuta pays attention, notices things about Mox that Mox himself never even knew.
He reflects, as they walk into Lululemon, how Yuta’s been all day. He only offers certain fabrics for Mox to try, watches Mox’s reaction carefully. When they went to the food court, he offered to wait in line while Mox found the table. Yuta drove and parked in a spot far enough away that they wouldn’t be sitting in traffic for too long.
He blinks and sees Yuta holding up two styles of jacket.
“Neither?” he asks.
“No, it’s not that,” Mox says, and then he starts talking because he can even think about it. “Think I realized I’m in love with you, because you, like, watch me, and I think that’s probably weird to notice in a lemon store or wherever the fuck we are, but I thought you should know the reason I’ve been staring like a fuckin’ weirdo for the past few minutes. So if you’re not cool with that, you gotta tell me.” Mox stops. “I like that one, though.” He reaches out and punches the middle of the one without the hood, yanks at the collar. “Looks cooler that way.”
Yuta blinks at him. “Jesus fucking Christ.” He tosses both of the jackets over the rack and steps into Mox’s space, grabbing either side of his face and kissing him with more surety than Mox had seen with him out of the ring.
He forgets to respond, in such shock, and Yuta steps back.
“You’re so fucking stupid,” Yuta says fondly. He takes a photo of the hoodless jacket’s tag, fixes both jackets back onto the shelf and wraps an arm around Mox’s waist. “I need to get you in a car before you say something even more dense and I have to blow you in front of Cinnabon.”
“That on the table?”
“Get your ass to the fucking car so we can get back to my house,” Yuta says, and Mox could almost call that a leer, if he was certain he knew what the fuck a leer looked like, “and you can find out what’s on the table.”
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thepaintedlady00 · 2 years
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The Sandman and the Girl Without Dreams
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Chapter 16: The Path Paved In Golden Flames
TW: gore, violence, knives, cuts, a tiny bit of angst (this is the end of the angst train I promise), bickering, slight reliving of some memories, smut (oral both receiving, penetration), fluff, apologies, gifts, Dream finally has his head out of his ass This chapter is mostly unedited so if there are mistakes please just ignore them 😅 My app won't let me edit long posts so 🤷‍♀️ Enjoy! Reposting AGAIN BECAUSE THIS APP HATES ME! xD
Destiny watched as his Weaver turned down the empty path, her body disappearing from sight into the maze. He bowed his head, fear and sorrow consuming him. The Fates clicked their tongues and sighed. The Crone spoke, cold and angry as ever, “Such a foolish girl you’ve brought up, Destiny.”
“We thought she’d be more reasonable than the last,” The Mother noted.
The Maiden shook her head. “The path of gold is certain to consume her.”
“We don’t know that,” he answered. “She has chosen the path unseen. The outcome is yet to be written.”
The Mother met his eyes. “Written or not, a sacrifice is necessary to free your lady love as well as those ensnared by the darkness.”
The Crone hummed in agreement. “A sacrifice of fire and starlight.”
“A final test.” The Maiden said quietly. “Of future, past and present. Time will tell what your Weaver is worthy of.”
Destiny stood in the garden even after The Fates had vanished. He watched the butterflies swirl, upset and confused. “I have faith in you, Penelope.”
***
The Corinthian stared me down, my reflection shining in his dark glasses. I could feel Dreams eyes on me, could feel the cold, gentle caress of him against the barrier I had put between us. The Corinthian sighed. "I'm disappointed. After everything he's done… Everything he's denied you, you still defend him? Why?"
"I made a promise," I said, glad to feel the cool metal of my blades in my hands. Thank god for magic. "One I don't intend to break again, especially not for you."
He smiled. "I would have liked you as my lady."
"Penelope," Dream whispered again, his voice raw and desperate.
Ignoring him I addressed The Corinthian. "Are you going to stand down? Or are we finally crossing blades, nightmare?"
"I ain't gonna stop, but I ain't gonna fight you." He shrugged his shoulders. "With those bits of Destruction a fight with you would be pointless… Boring. Lucky for us both I brought back up."
I had only a second to react, twisting my body to shield Dream as the knife flew from the crowd and ricochet off of my blade, slicing through my arm as it redirected away from us. Dreams hands grabbed me, steadying me as I glared out into the crowd as heavy footsteps and a whistling tune filled the room. He stepped up onto the stage and smiled at me. "Quick thinking, Barlow"
Pushing myself off of Dream I faced the tall man standing beside The Corinthian. "Porter. I gotta admit, I was hoping you were dead."
He shrugged. "I’m resilient. The others were weak, Elias especially. But, thanks to you he's not here to hold me back anymore."
Dreams' hands still stayed on me, holding my arms, even as the blood from my cut neared his fingers. "What do you get out of all this?"
"I get to fucking kill you," he said with a wide grin. "Elias was a fool to have kept me from doing it sooner. Though, I admit killing your friends was quite satisfying, especially The Marquis." My grip on the hilts of the blades tightened as The Bull pulled a knife out of his belt. “What do you say, sweetheart? Are you ready to play this game for real? No tricks, just me and you. Winner takes all.”
“Let’s get on with it then.”
“Penelope,” Dream said, his hands squeezing my arms. “This is-”
I stepped out of his grip. “Just deal with your nightmare, Dream. Pretend we aren’t even here, you’re good at that.”
Maybe it was an unfair time to throw insults at him, but I needed to focus and him doting on my every move would make that difficult. I pushed the guilt I felt at the feeling of my words striking him, pushed everything else down until all that remained was The Bull. He took a step forward, his smile never faltering, then another before moving his knife toward me. I sidestepped and ducked beneath his burly frame, slicing his knee and stabbing deep into his back before dodging again as he threw his elbow back in an attempt to get me off him. Back in front of Dream, my blades singing with the blood that now coated them, I looked up at him as he smiled wider, rolling his shoulder a little. “My turn.”
He moved faster than before, dodging each swipe of my blade and punching my jaw as hard as he could. I fumbled to the ground, ears ringing and my entire skull rattling with the blow. Fuck it had been a long time since he and I had gone toe to toe, I’d forgotten how hard he hit. His laugh echoed off the ceiling as he moved back toward The Corinthian. I carefully moved my jaw, spitting blood out of my mouth before standing once again. “That all you got?”
"Far from it doll," he said with a laugh as he advanced forward once more.
The kick to my sternum was unexpected and sent me flying off the stage and onto the ground. I had no time to catch my breath before The Bull leapt down, knife poised and ready to end this. I rolled to the side, gasping and sore, just missing the stab of his blade. He twisted the blade in his fingers and moved to stab me again, but I stabbed into his wrist, holding his arm away from me as he pushed harder with a desperate thirst for blood.
When my strength didn’t falter his fist came swiftly from the side and punched up into my ribs, the hit not only broke a few, but sent me falling further into the aisle. I hurried back onto my feet and moved backwards, dodging each movement of his fists and blade, waiting for an opportunity of my own to strike. The wound on his shoulder provided such, it was a small delay but it would have to do. He moved again and then I struck, lunging forward, leaping onto him and digging both my blades into his back and pulling up.
The Bull grabbed me by the hair and threw me into the doors to the room, not giving me any time to move or think before kicking me all the way out into the lobby. My head cracked against the ground as he advanced, stepping on my knee until the bone strained and cracked beneath him. With a pained cry I stabbed his thigh and rolled when he lifted the pressure off me, kicking the shin of his leg as I went. I was off balance now, my knee burned as I shuffled backward and watched The Bulls movements. He smiled, but this one was no longer the wide smug grin, it was tense and forced. He was getting annoyed with me.
He started advancing more sloppily now, the pain I’d inflicted on him mingling with that bubbling frustration. It was risky, relying on his fractured emotional state, but I intended to use every possible advantage I could. We moved around the people, who appeared to be sleeping or frozen, dishing out hit after hit until my back slammed into the cool metal of the elevator doors just as they began to open. The Bull shoved me inside, winding his fist back. I ducked and used the opportunity to lay into him.
My blades sliced the back of his knees, stabbed into his side and stomach, just as I brought my hand down to bury the blade into his chest, his hand caught my arm and threw me onto the bloody floor of the elevator as it began moving up. His knife dug into the side of my stomach and my sharp cry filled the space. The Bull settled on top of me, smug and over confident as he abandoned his own blade and forcefully pulled one of mine from my hand. “I’m gonna make this nice and slow.”
The metal of my blade caught the light, fire raging inside it as he brought it down to my face. I caught it in my hand, wincing as the metal sliced through my palm. My blood didn’t drip down onto me though, it ran backwards up the blade and spread out over his hand. I could smell the flesh burning as The Bull let go of the hilt with a startled noise as my blood burned him. I wasted no time throwing all my body weight into him, pulling him to the ground. The dagger flipped in the air, I caught it and quickly buried both of my blades deep into his eye sockets. His body moved, twitching and flailing for a moment before it stopped entirely.
Breathing heavily I forced myself to my feet, wiping the blood off my blades with my already ruined pants. I hit the lobby button and stared down at the lifeless body of The Bull. The ride down was silent, still, as my body reeled in pain. “Have fun in Hell you fucking bastard.”
The doors opened and I slowly made my way back to the convention room, just in time to catch the demon standing between The Corinthian and Dream, holding him still with Lyrias twisted dark threads. “Now you die, Dream Lord. You then Destiny.”
I threw one of my blades, aiming to slice through the threads. “You and I have business, demon!”
Its head turned to me with a dark sneer. “You. Why won’t you just die?!”
With a painful shrug I moved closer to the stage. “Maybe it’s just not in my nature.”
It turned away from Dream, jumping down off the stage and standing between me and them. “You cannot stop me, Weaver. Not without killing Destiny’s precious Lyria.”
“I’ll find a way.”
A dark smile, oozing with black spread on her face. “No, you will die.”
It lunged forward, slashing with dark claws and cutting my leg and hitting the daggers from my hands as I dove behind it. The Corinthian had turned to Dream, dagger raised and ready to strike his creator. I grabbed his threads and pulled him to his knees. Dream watched, still unable to move his feet from the threads I hadn’t cut around his legs. “Penelope!”
Claws dug into my shoulder, reopening the once sealed wound there as the demon cut deep and then threw me to the ground. It smiled widely, twisting its hands, a noose tightening around my neck and pulling me back into the stage, choking me. Voices filled my ears, The Stewards, Olethros, Isabel, Pierre, Johanna. Voices of all the people I’d lost, or could lose. The demon laughed. “Such a convenient thing for you to keep tied to you. A noose, made of your own failures, perfectly sized to hang you with. Pathetic. Soul bound. Fate Weaver. Your titles matter not, for you are weak. It was foolish of you to think you could ever beat me.”
Soul bound. The voices grew louder in my ears as my lungs began to burn. Fate Weaver. I closed my eyes, my hand scratching the ground, fingers running through coarse sand. Sand. The hilt of my dagger brushed against the tips of my fingers, buried deep in the black sand that now coated the floor between me and the demon. I wasn’t just those things. Thunder rumbled in the room, echoing loud and fiercely as the dark clouds of The Gathering Storm covered the ceiling. I wrapped my hand around it and cut the threads around my neck, ignoring the way the blade sliced through my skin as well. Lightning struck the claws of the demon, bringing it to its knees with a startled cry as I stood, the sand swirling around me. “I’m not just a soul bound or a Fate Weaver. I’m the fucking Lady of the Dreaming and so long as I live you won’t lay a finger on my King.”
Storm swirled around Lyria’s hunched over body, twisting around her limbs and shocking the demon as it writhed and fought against it. I moved fast, grabbing hold of her shoulder and looking back at Dream, our eyes locking for the first time in days. “Finish it, Dream.” I looked at The Gathering Storm and bowed my head. “Thank you, my friend.”
Then Lyria and I were gone, landing in Destiny’s garden as he stood, waiting for us. The demon was weakened by the lightning and I had hoped that Lyria would be strong enough to fight it. If Destiny could get through to her, maybe the book could provide some information. Black blood spilled from her mouth as the gold of her eyes flared against the darkness. “Kill me.”
“No.” I said, grabbing the book from Destiny’s table and flipping through the pages. “We’re going to save you.”
“There isn’t time!” She cried out. “Kill me. Do it before I hurt him again.”
Destiny knelt down in front of her, cradling her face in his hands. “I will not lose you again.”
Her head slammed into his face, the blow from the demon strong enough to send him to the ground as it climbed on top of him, raising its claws with a shriek. Its hand froze in the air, trembling as the gold in her eyes raged. She was fighting, as hard as she could, I needed to be fast. The pages provided little information, but a dispelling spell finally met my eyes and I wasted no time in reading it. The demon's dark shadowed body pulled away from Lyrias, both of them screaming as I completed the spell and the demon was pulled back to its own shadow realm.
Lyria slumped forward into Destiny's chest as he sat up and quickly checked her for a pulse. “Des, is she okay?”
He pressed his head into her hair and breathed in deeply, quiet for a long moment. “She’s alive.”
I released a relieved breath, my shoulder stinging as I neared the two. Her eyes fluttered open, the black finally gone from them as she looked around us. “Is it truly over?”
“Yes, Lyria,” Destiny said softly. “You are home.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she turned weakly to him. “Destiny… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He stroked her cheeks. “No, this was my doing. I should have told you of Penelope… should have told you what I intended.”
The sting in my shoulder intensified until I found myself gasping for air. Looking over my shoulder at the shadows as they began to seep from my wound. Destiny looked at me, Lyria’s eyes followed. “He’s left his mark on you. He will use it to pull you to him.”
“You can still trap him.” Lyria mumbled weakly as Destiny held her close. Her golden eyes met mine. “His soul, whatever is left of it, is bound to the book. Find the page with my handprint and you’ll find the spell to rebind his physical form to the book as well.”
“Penelope-”
“Don’t worry Des, I’ll finish it. Just… Tell him I’m sorry,” I whispered, gripping the book tight in my blackening hands as my shoulder seethed in shadows. “And that I loved him more than anything.”
“Weaver!” Destiny yelled as I let myself be pulled into the darkness.
***
Dream rose to his feet, his eyes turning away from where his lady had vanished from to The Corinthian as he clapped slowly. “Quite the woman isn’t she? I’m starting to think I put my money on the wrong Weaver. So, back to square one it seems.” He pulled a knife from his jacket and shook his head. “But I won’t go willingly.”
“A knife against a dream?” he asked, stepping towards his creation slowly.
“You don’t think dreams can die?” The nightmare egged on. “Let’s find out.”
Dream held his hand out, drawing upon his power. “Enough.” The sand has only just begun to swirl around The Corinthian as he stabbed his knife into Dream’s hand. It was surprising to him when it actually hurt, so much so he dropped to his knee and examined the cut with tentative hands. “How?”
“I’ve got Rose Walker getting stronger every second while you get weaker,” The nightmare said with a wide, smug grin. “She’s taking your place at the center of The Dreaming. She’s bringing the walls down between the sleepers' minds and now they’re all dreaming the same dream. A dream that I inspired.”
“No.”
“It’s already happening. There’s nothing you can do. She’s asleep and dreaming.”
“Then she’s not beyond my reach.”
The Corinthian shrugged. “Oh, I think she is. Now that she knows you’re planning to kill her.”
Dream ignored the nightmares words and pushed himself into the dream just as she and her brother turned towards him. “You need to wake up!”
“Don’t listen to him, Rosebud. You’re the one with the power now, not him. This is your dream.”
He moved through the plastic lining the door with a sigh at the sight of so much death and violence before him. “It’s his dream, for your world.”
The Corinthian sneered at him for a split second before smiling at Rose. “Then let’s make it yours. Whatever you want, Rose. A blank canvas!”
The dreams of her brother and the other humans vanished and Rose’s eyes went wide with fear. “Where’s Jed?”
“Jed’s fine. He’s upstairs, asleep, he’s right next to you. This dream is yours now. The Dreaming is yours now!”
“The Dreaming is yours? Is that what he told you?” Dream demanded coldly as he watched his nightmare struggle to keep his composure.
Rose looked up at him, sorrow and confusion shining in her eyes. “He told me you were gonna kill me.”
Dream nodded a little. “Did he tell you why? When a vortex brings down the walls between dreams, she creates a single volatile dream that will collapse in upon itself, and take the waking world with it. Your world. Everything and everyone will die.”
The Corinthian bent down to Rose’s ear. “Don’t believe him, Rosie.”
“It’s happened before. I failed in my duty, an entire universe was lost.”
Steel singing in the air echoed around them as The Corinthian pointed a knife at him. “He can’t kill you if you kill him first.”
“Killing me may save your life, but it won’t save the lives of those you love.”
“I’m tryin to keep you alive here!” The nightmare growled, the playful mask he bore slipping at last.
“I’m trying to keep your world alive,” Dream argued.”
“Enough!” Her voice echoed in the vast space as Dreams' eyes looked up, there in the distant darkness he could see Penelope… A dream of her? No. A vision. 
She’d been thrown to the ground, her surroundings unknown to him as a clawed hand of darkness grabbed her head and held her down, squeezing enough to puncture her cheek. Dream took a half step forward when her eyes met his, wild and desperate… afraid. Penelope! Her eyes filled with tears, the fire in them raging as her hand found a dagger. She shoved up, stabbing deep into the arm of whatever creature lurked.
Rose’s power radiated through the room, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the sight of his lady as she was dragged back into the shadows and out of his sight. A scream and a wild shriek filling the air. “If I’m as powerful as you say I am, then I will find my own way. In the meantime the walls go back up. Because I am not dreaming anymore. Thanks to you two I’m wide awake.”
His heart thundered in his chest as he watched the walls further separate him from going to Penelope. And just like that the dream faded, The Corinthian filling his view as he lifted his hand and examined the healing wound. His nightmare took off the dark shades that shielded the rows of teeth from view. “If you think I’m going back to The Dreaming with you-”
“You’re not going back.” His voice was low, nearly hoarse with the emotion that raged in him. Penelope was somewhere fighting for her life and he could not save her and The Corinthian… his masterpiece needed to be unmade and he needed to be the one to do it. “I brought you into this world to serve humanity. Not to feed upon it.”
“Do you know why I do it? So I can taste what it’s like to be human.” The Corinthian scoffed at him. “You don’t care about humanity, none of them, not even her. You only care about yourself and your realm and your rules.”
“I contain the entire collective unconscious. Without my rules it would consume me. Humanity would be consumed.”
“Or you might actually feel something.” His nightmare smiled, sad and angry. “I am not the problem Dream.”
There it was. The answer to the question he’d been asking for so long. Why did his dreams and nightmares feel so distant from him? Why did they prefer Penelope, someone they’d only just barely been introduced to when he had been beside them for eons? It was far more simple than he’d thought possible. He pushed them away, shoved them into strict rules that shackled their growth and thus their ability to view him in any light other than a captor. “You are right. This was my fault, not yours. I had so much hope for you, but I created you poorly then. So I must uncreate you now.”
The sand swirled, glowing red as it ate away at his masterpiece. “I am only sorry I won’t be here to watch you lose everything… to see Rose Walker do the same to you.”
Dream knelt before the pile of sand and plucked the small skull up and a sad smile. “Next time I make you, you will not be so flawed and petty, little dream.”
He turned to the crowd of his creations flawed inspiration and shook his head. “And you… who call yourselves collectors, until now you have sustained fantasies in which you are the victims comforting daydreams in which you are always right. But no more. The dream is over. I have taken it away. For this is my judgment upon you, that you shall know from this moment on exactly how craven and selfish and monstrous you are. That you shall feel the pain of those you have slaughtered. And the grief of those that mourn them still, and you shall carry that pain and grief and guilt with you until the end of time.”
They all rose from their seats and walked, dazed out of the room. Dreams eyes settled onto the spot Penelope had once stood, his heart sinking lower and lower every second she did not reappear before him. My love… Where are you? Please… Tears filled his eyes as the minutes passed with no sign of her. Penelope.
***
Darkness surrounded me, the wound on my shoulder burning now in the rancid air as I stumbled into the altar and shakily set the book in place. I flipped through the pages, eyes scanning and desperate to find Lyria’s handprint. Come on. Come on!
A dark chuckle echoed around me, pain ripping through my shoulder and tearing a scream from my throat. “Why do you still fight against the dark, little Weaver?”
Before I could even move out of the way the demon had grabbed me and thrown me to the ground. My head cracked against the stone as I pushed myself back, hands fumbling in the dark for my lost daggers. The glowing red of the demon's eyes was all I could see in the darkness in front of me as it shifted and moved without a sound. Its long talons flashed for a second before its whole hand curled around my head and squeezed the sharp points into my skin. I groaned, still trying to move as my eyes lifted and a hazy vision of Dream and Rose and The Corinthian flashed in the distance. Dream... I thought softly, my hand shifting toward him and bumping into the sharp sting of Destruction sheathed in steel.
I wrapped my hand around it, taking one last look at Dream's eyes before forcing my body up and stabbing the blade deep into the demon's arm. It shrieked loudly, its hand tightening around my head as it flung me through the air and sent me crashing into the altar. This time my whole body burned with pain, every wound I sustained in my fight with The Bull and with the demon before, as the adrenaline began to fade and everything else started to settle in. I coughed up blood as I turned and reached for the book, weakly flipping the pages until my heart sank at the sight of a torn page. “No.”
“Did you really think I’d leave the one page that could rebind me?” Mephistopheles asked with a loud, smug laugh. “Don’t you see now? You cannot trap me.”
“If I can’t trap you then I’ll just have to kill you.” I wheezed as I took my blade in hand and stabbed the book as hard as I could, the steel piercing the thick leather. A soft, dark light began to seep out from the book. It wasn’t enough. I needed more. 
Mephistopheles growled in the darkness. “Your little blade isn’t strong enough to kill me. NOTHING IS STRONG ENOUGH TO KILL ME!” Claws sliced clean through my side, pulling me and the book back to the ground as the red eyes loomed over me and a twisted grin of darkness and thorns smiled down at me. “I’ll give the Endless your regards, Penelope.”
No. The world of threads offered little help, as all the threads save the gold were covered in darkness. My eyes fixed on the molten gold as it swirled brighter than ever, gold drops pulling towards me like fireflies in the dark. Forsake that which you fear. For the path through flames of molten gold is that which holds your freedom. The Fates voices echoed in my ears as Mephistopheles’ claws tore through my stomach. FUCK! My hand shot out and wrapped around the golden thread. Fire, bright golden swirls of fire wound around my arm and sunk into my skin, burning hotter than anything I’d ever felt. A scream tore through my throat as the gold curled up my shoulder as I lifted the dagger again and stabbed the blade the rest of the way into the book. Golden light illuminated Mephistopheles’ face and he tore away from me, attempting to shield himself from the light.
“NO! NO!” He roared as the light burnt away at the shadowed body. It lunged for me one last time, a mad move made by a dying demon. I ripped the dagger from the book just in time to lift it in front of me and watch it slice clean through its neck. The head of the demon fell to the stone and the book blazed in a puff of golden fire, blackening until the soul within it was consumed. The dagger clattered to the ground as I turned to look at the golden thread, unable to pull my hand from it. Power burning and bright and nothing like any power I’d felt before surged through me. I pulled against it harder, tears streaming down my cheeks as the power grew too great, too painful for me to stand any longer. The gold filled my vision as my body weakened to the point where I couldn’t move anymore. Blood oozed from my wounds, pooling beneath my back as a vision played in the glowing thread.
A tall figure clothed in black and stardust moved across a stone bridge. Dream. He walked through the town with his head held high as everyone he passed smiled and bid him a fond good afternoon. He looked happy. Dream followed the familiar path to Cain and Abel’s houses and shook his head with a chuckle as he crossed the bridge. “I thought I told you not to stray far, yet here you are wreaking havoc on Cain and Abel’s garden.”
A little girl was perched upside down half hanging from Pierre’s statue, her long raven hair blowing in the breeze as she flipped around and leapt into Dreams' waiting arms. Cain bowed his head to Morpheus. “It’s no trouble, my lord. She can be quite helpful when she wants to be.”
“Yes, when she’s not too occupied with vanishing!” He shook his head as the girl pressed a big kiss to his cheek. “You’re just like your mother.”
“Mommy’s good at disappearing!”  The child sang. “She can do it SO FAST!”
Dream laughed, a laugh so full of joy I’d never heard it before. “Yes, she is. Speaking of her, we should get back to the palace. She’s going to be back today.”
The girl looked up into his eyes, stars shining in hers. “Do you think Uncle Destiny and Aunt Lyria will give her a gift to bring me?!”
“Don’t they always?” He asked as she jumped from his arms and hugged Cain, then Abel and then the much larger Goldie.
She grabbed Dream's hand and tugged him along across the bridge. “Come on then Daddy!”
They moved back through the village, the sight of the mighty Dream Lord being dragged through the town by the smaller girl didn’t seem to surprise anyone. Just as they reached the bridge a woman stood on the opposite end, looking out at the setting sun. The little girl let go of Dreams hand and booked it toward her, only giving her enough time to turn before nearly tackling her to the ground. “Mommy!”
Laughter echoed as Dream moved closer, revealing my face buried in the girl's hair. “Ophelia!”
“Did you bring me a gift?” the little girl demanded, squeezing my cheeks.
“Of course,” I replied, laughing. “It’s in the library with Lucienne and Matthew.”
The child, Ophelia, leapt to the ground and ran inside as fast as her little legs could carry her. Dream pulled me into his arms and pressed a kiss to my lips. “How is my brother and his wife?”
I shrugged. “They’re doing well.”
“Did he answer your question?”
“He did.”
Dream looked down at me, an expression of anticipation and hopefulness filling his usually stoic face. “Do you intend to keep me in suspense my lady?”
My smile grew wider as I nodded. “He confirmed our suspicions.”
Now, Dream was beaming, bright as a star as he enveloped me in a tight hug, lifting me off the ground a bit. “This is wonderful news! Did he tell you which it would be?”
Once he set me back down I cupped his face with a wide smile. “A boy.”
“A boy,” he breathed, hands resting on my stomach. “I assume you already have a name in mind?”
I smiled, the eyes of my future self looking over his shoulder and into my own. “Omiros.”
“Omiros.” I could hear the smile in his voice as more tears streamed down my cheeks. “A strong name. Though I have to wonder where you, my love, came up with such a name.”
My eyes turned away from me and looked up at him with happy tears. “I heard it a long time ago.”
His head tilted to the side as he stroked my cheek. “From where?”
“A dream,” I answered.
“You said that last time,” he noted, suspicious.“Well maybe you should believe me then.”
“My son. Omiros,” Dream said again, softer, almost like a prayer as his thumb rubbed against my stomach.
The gold thread faded before my eyes, taking the vision with it, and my hand fell limp onto the stone floor. Every breath I took was painful and slow as I felt the life slowly drain from me. The darkness and decay of the realm remained as the creatures gathered around me, drawn to the starlight that had been glowing from my head. A green butterfly flew past my eyes and settled on the bloody skin above my heart. The light moved, flickering out for a moment before glowing even brighter beneath the butterfly. The creatures made a noise, soft and desperate. "You would be stripped of your light and left to darkness should you try." 
The light, the blessing, would set these people free. I didn’t know how I knew, but something inside me just did… It was the only way to set all this right. I lifted my hand, despite the pain the movement sent through me, and touched my heart. The butterfly settled over my palm as I pulled the light from my chest, holding its steady warm glow tightly. Every breath I took was painful and slow as I felt the life slowly drain from me.
"Goodbye, Morpheus," I whispered, letting the light slip from my fingers and up toward the sky. Silver spirits of the creatures trapped in the darkness followed the light up into the sky, tearing through the darkness and leaving me one last fading view of the night sky before darkness overtook me.
***
Destiny stared out into the night sky as he held Lyrias hand in his, absentmindedly stroking his thumb along her skin. He could feel her heart beating again, after all these long years, she was home. All of it was thanks to Penelope. She’d offered him help, even knowing that the likelihood of her demise was great. He looked down at the shimmering gold of Lyrias cheeks and smiled, pressing a kiss to them as he stood.
“Father,” he said out into the sky. “I have never asked for anything… You know I would never ask unless it was of great importance. Just this once, I ask for your favor.”
Beside him Time stood, hands clasped in front of him. “I cannot guarantee she will live. First she must pass her final test, and then her fate will be decided.”
Destiny nodded. “It is a chance, one I can only hope she will be strong enough to make good use of.”
“We shall soon see.”
***
The darkness that cocooned me was neither too hot nor too cold, neither wet nor dry, it simply was. I felt weightless as voices swirled around me, one soft but cold. A hand shook my shoulder, soft and warm and familiar. “Penelope, it’s time to wake up darling.”
“Mother?” I whispered as my eyes opened to her kindly face looking down at me with a soft smile. She pushed my hair out of my face. “Am I dead?”
Her face twisted as she gasped at the question. “Heavens no! Why would you think such a thing?”
“Because this…” I stopped myself, eyes roaming over the modest bedroom that had so very long ago been my own. “This isn’t real.”
Mother laughed softly. “You and that imagination of yours. Now, get up. We have a long day of lessons ahead of us.”
I sat on my bed, my eyes darting wildly around the room and my breaths heavy and sharp. What the fuck is going on? I thought as I pulled the covers off me and practically ran to the mirror. I looked like I had then, youthful. The wounds I’d gained while fighting The Bull and Lyria and the demon were gone. I turned my wrist over, running my fingers along the smooth unscarred skin. It was all gone… No, it just hadn’t happened yet. I sank to the floor, tucking my knees to my chest and letting out quiet, scared sobs. Was this real? And if it was… what was I meant to do?
A voice, warm and loud, echoed through the room. “You must choose what was or what could have been, Fate Weaver.”
“I don’t understand,” I whispered, but the voice didn’t come again. Okay, I told myself, wiping the tears from my eyes. This is just another test. I just needed to figure out where I was and what this choice was. After I got dressed for the weird day that was no doubt ahead of me I looked around my room, if there was anything here to tell me what was going on it would certainly make this easier. I pulled a box out from under my bed and opened it up to reveal a simple fine dress, one I recognized almost immediately.
This was the day I snuck out and attended the party at the Burgess house for Alex. The day I met Morpheus. The day that changed everything. Choose what was or what could have been? Whoever it was that set up this weird trip to the past wanted me to either make the same choices I had, the ones that led me to where I ended up or to choose differently? I practically scoffed. Why would I change what happened? I had already lived through it. Unless… whatever being was doing this expected me to live through it all over again.
The pained memories of the asylum filled my mind as I set my head in my hands. What would change if I tried to do things differently? Morpheus. I looked down at my arm where the mark had been and sadly ran a thumb over the smooth skin. If I change things… It would change our relationship, change what we meant to each other… what we still mean to each other. I kept going over it in my mind as the day dragged on. My father, the man I’d killed with my bare teeth, sat across from me at the table as we ate. I’d forgotten how miserable I was. Forgotten how absolutely horrible life had been living in the Barlow house.
Sure, I was fed and had plenty of time to myself, but it was lonely. There was no Matthew to swoop down and chatter in my ear. No Lucienne to offer up a book recommendation or talk to me for hours about the knowledge she held. No Mervyn calling me kid and offering to show me how to do various jobs. There was no Cain and Abel and Goldie with their garden and their bickering. No town full of loving nightmares and dreams. There was no Dreaming, no home… No Morpheus.
For a while I wandered the Barlow estate grounds, deep in thought, but no matter how long I thought about it my answer stayed the same. I would follow the events of the day as they had happened, even if it meant I would have to live the years that followed in the same torment that I had before. I looked at myself in the mirror as night finally came and smoothed a hand over the dress that would soon be ruined, before climbing out the window and making my way toward the Burgess house and the crowd that gathered there.
I walked as if I was in a daze, moving through the crowd until Alex's young and familiar face smiled down at me. "Penelope! It's about time you showed up! I thought you'd abandoned me to be eaten by these people!"
“Alex…” I hadn’t seen him in eighty years. Even after all the pain he’d caused me, I couldn’t help but feel happy when he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me inside. For a split second I’d forgotten that this wasn’t real, that this was all some kind of memory or, or, something.
I looked up at the house, residual fear and anxiety building in me as Alex led the way. Hand on my shoulder he looked over me with worried eyes. “Are you alright? You seem quiet.”
“I’m fine,” I answered. “It’s just been a long day.”
“Well, relax, Pen. Tonight is supposed to be fun.” His family butler scolded him quietly and he nudged my shoulder. “Go have fun for a bit, my father has me holding the door to keep the uninvited out. Something about responsibility.”
I took one last look at his face, one last look at him while he was still my friend. “You are rather irresponsible.”
“Says you,” he retorted with a laugh and a nudge to my shoulder.
“Don’t be too long… responsible Alex, or I’ll be the one that becomes the meal.” Goodbye, my friend. I thought as I watched him walk out the door. Hopefully once I got to Dream this whole thing would end, but if not… Alex wouldn’t be like this again.
I instinctually moved toward the least crowded part of the room, my eyes drawing to the door with the guards standing in front of it. Now that I knew what secrets it held the curiosity was gone, replaced by a cool and pulsing rage. He was down there. Alone. Naked. Locked away in some goddamn fish bowl for what? Roderick Burgess’ pride? I had to close my eyes and remind myself that this wasn’t real. Dream was free. He was safe. Just like before I watched the people dance, drink and come close to overdosing on every drug imaginable at the time. All just one large facade. The rich man fell to the ground, convulsing just as he had before and I turned toward the basement door. Everything and everyone froze as the voice from this morning echoed around me again. “Choose.”
For a moment I looked around at the party, studying the faces of the upper class crowd. They were miserable, all of them, I had known it then and I knew it now. I turned back to the door and descended the dark stairs, into the basement that would soon fill with beatings and blood, but the second my eyes met his in his glass cage my heart soared. Whoever organized this, whatever they wanted of me, had wasted their time. There was no world where I wouldn’t choose him. 
The basement was just as I remembered it, damp and dark, reeking and poorly lit. The glowing glass sphere hung in the center of the large space and my legs nearly buckled at the sight of it. Morpheus sat up, dark, star filled eyes watching me as I moved closer and closer to him. He watched me with a stoic expression, but his eyes betrayed what he felt, as they always did.
“Don’t worry. There's nothing they could do to make me choose differently.” I said as I stood face to face with him, tears running down my face as I pressed my hand to the glass without hesitation. “I’ll always choose you, Dream.”
He said nothing as he mirrored the gesture. Just like the first time pain exploded across my palm, but this time when the images and voices filled my head I knew them. The memories of Dream and I played in my head, every tiny gleam in his eyes, every stupid game I played with him, our goodbye and then our reunion, Matthew and Lucienne and Mervyn and Cain and Abel, home. They were here, all along from the beginning they were here. The glass shattered beneath our hands as Dream’s voice silenced all the others. “I thought you’d left.”
I smiled as the glass turned into sand. “I would never leave you, my Dream. You’re my home.”
The memory or illusion of Dream stepped out of the metal frame and stood in front of me, lifting his hand and blowing sand into my eyes. Everything faded away until I stood staring at an empty expanse of darkness. Two figures stood before me, neither looking my way but at each other. 
"It has been a long time since we have shared a plane,” the soft, cold feminane voice said.
The other replied, rough but warm. "Yes. I have missed you."
The soft voice belonged to a woman, tall and thin, beautiful beyond belief. She wore a gown of glowing light and her long hair was black with stairs swirling inside it. Night. I told myself. This was Dream and the other Endless’ mother. “I am here now.”
The loud voice belonged to a man, old with vibrant red hair and a long beard filled with gray strands and features that reminded me of De and Olethros. He shook his head. “Only because you felt drawn here. You did not come for me.”
“No, but I am here nonetheless.” Her eyes, two glowing stars, turned to me. “Your light is gone, little star. It was a mistake of you to give it away for even I cannot return it to you.
The old man changed before my eyes, into a small boy. “To give away such a blessing is quite the feat alone, especially for a mortal born. But, more interesting, perhaps, is your choice.”
“I just did what I thought was right.” I answered him.
“Right?” he questioned, now older but not old. “Was it out of obligation or love I wonder? Mortals seem to be quite fickle in their feelings.”
This must be their father, I told myself. Dream had spoken little of his parents and from what I could gather from Desire there was a good reason for it. As I watched them coldly argue with one another over what my fate was to be all I could think of was how unhappy and bitter they both sounded. Night was cold and emotionless as she spoke. “Does it matter why she chose this path?”
The man turned to her, the young boy once again. “It does to me, as it should to you.”
“She may have foolishly given away my blessing, but the fact remains she passed your test, Time. Do you not wish for our son to be happy?"
“My blessing is a rare and powerful thing. I will not give it to someone unworthy of it.”
They fought again for what seemed like hours. Listening to them certainly made their children's messy histories make more sense. For a while I considered trying to leave, find my own way, but there was literally nothing but abyss around us so I quickly decided against it. Then my thoughts shifted to whether or not I'd have to choose a side between them, should this argument turn into an actual fight.
As I looked between the two it was difficult to figure out who I found more intimidating. Time was loud and even in his old appearance he looked like he could hold his own in a fight. Night, while delicate in appearance, held a very cold and calculating look in her eyes that made me question just how soft she truly was. Truthfully I hated both options. Maybe I could take them both? I thought, touching my thighs. Right no daggers. They both looked at me curiously.
"Do you honestly think you could fight us both?" Night asked.
"Two Endless beings of greater power than you could ever know?" Time added.
I shrugged. "I don't know! It's not like I have a lot of options. And also it's quite rude to drag me here, test me, argue in front of me, then read my mind and judge me on trying to figure out how to fight you two if need be. Mind your own business, which it seems you two have plenty of!"
"Who would you choose of the two of us?" Time asked, sending Night a glare. "I am far more powerful."
Night merely rolled her eyes. "You always were so self important. The mortal would obviously pick me, for she has been given my blessing before."
"Another reason as to why she would choose me. For it is my blessing she needs now."
"ENOUGH! God I see why your kids are so fucked up! You two are, no offense, truly fucking terrible.” I looked at Night. “I thank you for giving me your blessing. I’m sorry I gave it away, but I’d do it over again if it meant saving those people.” I turned to Time, now an old man. “Give me your blessing or don’t. I don’t care. I’m going home with or without it.”
He tilted his head a little. “You think yourself capable of navigating the endless darkness?”
I shrugged again, frustrated and exhausted. “I don’t know, but I don’t care. I’m going home. If it takes me days or years I don’t care. If I fucking die here trying to find my way back… I. Don’t. Care. I have to try at least, I owe them all that much.”
“You are a curious human, Penelope Barlow.” Time said, stepping towards me and holding out his hand. “My son has asked me to save you.”
“Dream?”
“No, I’ve not spoken to Dream in eons. It was Destiny.” He changed again into a younger man. “He’s asked nothing of me since the creation of this world. Yet he asks for a favor now, for you… a mortal.”
I smiled at the thought. “He didn’t have to do that.”
Time nodded. “No, he did not, but he did. You hold much influence over my children and are regarded highly among them, for all would have asked this of me."
"You sound confused by that."
"I am. You are nothing but a mortal." Time insisted. "Your soul being bound to Dream means little in regards to my other children. And yet they would all come to me on your behalf."
"Maybe it would be easier to understand if you actually spent any time with them." I bit out. "Both of you."
Time didn't respond to the jab. "You passed the final test I had laid before you, The Fates were right in their assumptions. But, know that it is only for Destiny that I grant you my blessing.” I could see Night scoff as he held his hand out to me, old once again. Once my hand met his wrinkled skin, golden light filled the darkness. 
My eyes drifted shut as the bright light grew hotter and filled the dark abyss, and when I opened them again I was back at the hotel, laying in the center of the aisle, chairs on either side of me. Some of my wounds had healed, the ones that would have killed me, but the others were still fresh and bleeding. My hand was blackened from the flames and burnt marks curled up my arm, remnants from the golden thread and there, laying at my side was the head of Mephistopheles and the burnt book that once bound him.
***
"Did you find her?" Matthew asked as soon as he landed at Dreams feet.
Dreams' eyes scanned the crowd for a moment. "No, but she's still here, I can feel it. We'll check inside."
He turned just as she hobbled out of the hotel doors. She froze at the sight of him, her tear stained face looked pale and sickly. The blood and wounds that covered her all over didn't help ease his conscience, but it was her hand that he focused on. Penelope cradled the right one to her chest, holding a black book, the dark lines of burnt flesh in the shape of rope, no, threads. She'd had to touch the burning thread, had to twist it around her arm to free herself of whatever torment his callousness had doomed her to.
For a moment they both just stood there, looking at one another, not willing or able to move first. He took a half step forward, and her eyes filled with tears, lips quivering as she closed the distance between them, crushing herself into his chest. He felt lighter, like he could finally breathe again as he hesitantly hugged her to him. Through her sobs she pleaded, "Can we go home? Please?"
Home. The word was bittersweet. It meant that she still considered The Dreaming her home, but also meant that even with what he'd said to her and denied her, she still trusted him. "Yes."
Her body relaxed as the chilled air of The Dreaming wrapped around them, but neither of them moved. Dream was afraid of what would happen after he let go of her. She had to be angry with him and after searching for her for so long… After seeing Desire's hands on her… Dream knew they had much to discuss. Matthew cawed. "I hate to ruin the moment but… Is that a head?"
She pulled back, lifting her left hand and the severed head she gripped in it. "Right. I'm gonna have to take this shit to Destiny tomorrow."
"What the fuck have you been up to the past few days?!"
"It's a long story," she admitted with a wince as she waved her hand, easily creating a box and tossing the head and book inside. Whatever she had done to gain the upper hand over the demon had unlocked her connection to his power fully now.
Dreams' eyes slid down to her deep wounds as blood dripped to the floor. "You need attended to."
She nodded, dazed and stumbled to the side. "Yeah, uh, I'm about to pass out. The… The blood loss is really starting to, uh, kick in so if you could… Catch me or something, I'd appreciate it."
Just as she predicted her eyes rolled into the back of her skull and she began to drop to the ground. Dream caught her, holding her to him tightly. "Matthew, tell Lucienne that Penelope is back, and send her to my quarters."
"You got it boss," the raven said. Hearing his casual tone made Dream feel better. Perhaps now that she was back things could return to normal. He set her on the bed, carefully discarding her clothing and looking down at the deep wounds and still retreating black veins. No. Things would never go back to normal, at least not the normal he was accustomed to.
He worked tirelessly, sewing and wrapping her wounds with what magic and skill he had until he finished. He pulled fresh blankets over her and sat on the edge of the bed, holding her injured hand tentatively in his. Dream watched the black veins and discoloration fade from her skin. His hands helped cool the sweltering heat of her body and once the color had begun to return to her skin he let himself feel the relief of having her home.
It may not last. She could still wake up and decide to leave, but for now he was content. Penelope was home, here in their bed, and most importantly she was alive. Lucienne knocked at the door, entering quietly and clutching her hand to her chest at the sight of her friend. "My lord! What's happened to her?"
"I do not know," he admitted. "After she and the demon vanished I only saw a glimpse of whatever she faced. When she awakens, I'm certain she will fill you in on the details. The items she came with, where are they?"
"In the library, sir. I thought it best to keep a close eye on them, just to be certain they are truly dormant."
He nodded. "A wise course of action."
Lucienne stroked Penelope's hair and looked up at him. "Do you need anything, my lord?"
"I must finish this business with the vortex." His voice was soft and sad, unable to pretend any longer that the task at hand meant nothing to him. Rose Walker had proven herself to be brave and kind hearted and strong. She reminded him of Penelope when he'd first met her in the damp dark of the Burgess basement. And that only made his duty more difficult.
Lucienne nodded. "I'll stay with her."
"No," he said softly. "Return to the library and watch the artifacts she brought. Matthew can watch over her, that way I will be able to see her through him."
"Very well, my lord." She smiled down at Penelope and sighed softly, relieved. "I am glad she's home."
"As am I." He stroked her skin one last time before standing. Now he could only hope she wanted to stay.
***
When I opened my eyes I was back at Destiny's garden, everything had been repaired and put back just as it was supposed to be. Destiny stood beside the table, carefully setting it as the sun began to rise. "You are early. Or perhaps you are on time."
I smiled, laughing a little. "Were you expecting me?"
"No," he answered, turning around to face me. "But I was hoping you would come back."
"I have you to thank for that," I said, moving closer and wrapping him in a soft, weak hug. "Your parents are assholes, by the way, your dad especially."
His hand gently pressed against my back, his famous and comforting one armed hug. "I am simply glad you are here, Weaver."
"Me too." I mumbled. "How is Lyria?"
"She is resting," he said, turning to finish setting the table. "But she will recover quickly, thanks to you."
"Good." I sat down in my chair and sighed in relief as the pain subsided a little. "How are you?"
Destiny smiled. "I am better than I have been."
"Wow, a real answer?" I teased. "You sure she didn't hit your head too hard?"
He sat down across from me and shook his head fondly. "Did you retrieve the book?"
I nodded. "And the bastard's head."
"Both must be taken to Hell and returned to The Morningstar."
"You think Lucifer is involved in this?" I asked. 
Destiny didn’t respond for a moment. “No, but Mephistopheles was a Duke of Hell and what remains of him should be returned to his master.”
There was more, I could feel it. “What else?”
“While you’re there I would ask you to retrieve some things of Lyrias from Lightbringer.” He looked at me, but this time there was a thinly concealed rage in them that I’d never seen before. “The demon stole them and took them to Hell in order to keep them from me. His remains should be enough to trade for them.”
"Alright, how do you want me to facilitate such a trade?" I asked. "The devil and I don't exactly have the best relationship."
Destiny gestured to a small letter beneath my cup. "I've written out what to say. Hopefully it keeps you out of trouble."
I opened the letter and read through the  finely written, far too modest request.
Lucifer, Ruler of Hell, I come to you with a proposition from Destiny of the Endless. I will offer you the effects of the slain demon Mephistopheles in return for the previous Fate Weavers artifacts, as well as safe passage through Hell and an undelayed departure. Do this and Destiny promises there will be no need for war between Hell and the Endless.
“Sounds simple enough," I said, moving to stand. A bit too simple.
His hand reached across the table and settled over mine. "Weaver, I simply wish for you to get Lyria's artifacts back, though I know there are some questions of your own need answered. So, I hope you shall heed my advice when I ask you to remember the ruler of Hell can be rather pedantic. Tread this path cautiously."
"Aren't I always cautious?" I joked.
"You will be going as my emissary." He gestured to the broach on the table. It was shimmering gold with an intricately carved depiction of his garden. "My sigil will mark you as my Fate Weaver and grant you entrance into Hell. They will likely be expecting you."
"Expecting me?"
"Word of Mephistopheles death will have reached them by now, along with the nature of that death.
I sighed, wincing at the pain that motion caused. "So I'm gonna be walking into a bloodbath?"
"No, so long as you do not stray from the path or your purpose."
"I'll be safe, Des."
"Of this I have no doubt, Weaver."
***
Back in Dreams bedroom I forced myself to get dressed just as Matthew flew through the window with a relieved sigh. “You fucking asshole!”
“Whoa, chill out there Smokey,” I said looking down at him as he perched on the bed. “Why are you so mad at me?”
“You disappeared!” He yelled with a caw. “They told me to watch over you til you woke up and you just poof, gone! I was worried! I thought for sure you’d gotten trapped or some shit!”
I winced as I sat down beside him. “Sorry Matthew. I didn’t mean to… poof. Destiny and I just needed to have a quick chat.”
He ruffled his wings at me. “Well, warn a bird next time.”
“I will,” I said, smoothing over his feathers. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too, Penny. For a while last night we thought we lost you for good.”
Looking around at the room, cast in rainbow light I chuckled a little. “You might have, for a little bit at least.”
“So, what did Destiny want?”
“I gotta take that shit I brought last night to Hell.”
“You’re going back to Hell?!” He cawed again. “Like willingly?”
Looking down at him with a smile I shrugged. “Looks that way.”
“God, you’re weird.” He said. “Come on, Merv and Lucienne are freaking out looking for you.”
“Did you tell them before you told Dream?”
He flew onto my shoulder. “Of course! I sure as hell wasn’t gonna tell the boss I lost you again!”
We walked through the halls for a while before Merv came around a corner and nearly slammed into me. His pumpkin features relaxed slightly as he pulled me into a hug. “Thank fuck! I thought you left us, kid!”
I smiled into his thin shoulder, inhaling the smell of pumpkin and tools. “I’d never abandon you guys.”
He steadied me as we walked the rest of the way toward the library where Lucienne paced back and forth as a dream stood off to the side of her. “He’s not going to be happy when he comes back and finds her gone again. Are you certain you checked everywhere?”
“She is nowhere outside the palace. We would have noticed her.”
“I do tend to stand out,” I said, hobbling forward towards them. 
Lucienne let out a breath and ran to my side. “My lady!” Her arms wound around me, pulling me into her embrace. “You must stop scaring us like this.”
“I’m sorry, Lucienne.” I said. “Had a meeting to get to.”
She pulled away and helped Merv get me settled in a chair at the table. “Can I get you anything?”
“I’m alright,” I insisted.
“My lady, you are badly injured,” she said, examining the deep wound on my neck. “You need to return to bed and rest.”
“No can do, Lucienne. I’ve got a job to do. Speaking of, where's the things I brought back?”
“I’m assuming you’re referring to the book and the… head?” She said moving around the corner to bring the box of the artifacts out. “I’ve been keeping an eye on them.”
“Thanks,” I said, examining the box carefully as the feeling I’d tried to ignore since getting back began to bubble to the surface. “Where… Is Dream busy?”
Lucienne gave me a gentle look. “I just returned from helping him deal with the vortex.”
Shit. I tried to stand. “Is he okay? Did he…”
She set a hand on my shoulder, urging me to stay sitting. “He’s alright, my lady. As is Rose Walker.”
“How? I thought there was no other way.”
“Normally there isn’t,” she said. “But, this whole situation appears to have been manipulated by Lord Morpheus’ sibling.”
“Desire.”
“Yes,” she admitted. “Lord Morpheus is speaking with them currently.”
“Can’t say I’m too surprised.” The memories of them, their cruel game, filled my mind. “Is he… Did he seem angry?”
Lucienne looked confused for a moment. “He did. Desire’s game would have put the entire Dreaming at risk.”
I sighed. “And did he seem angry after I passed out?”
“No,” she said. “He was worried for you, my lady. All night he remained by your side, tending your wounds and ensuring that you were healing.”
“Thank you, Lucienne.” I said to her, standing to look over the artifacts in the box. “I need to get ready to go to Hell.”
Lucienne’s face immediately twisted into sharp concern. “My lady, that is most unwise! You are still injured!”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “But I still have to do this.”
“Surely it can wait,” she insisted.
“The longer I put it off the worse it’ll look to Lucifer. I killed one of their Dukes, they know that I did. Besides, I’d like to get this over with, and get a few answers.”
She seemed to understand as she looked down at my clothes. “Well, if you intend to travel to Hell, you may want to change into more appropriate attire.”
I laughed, nodding. “True.”
For the first time since the hotel I felt the surge of power that normally would have been Dream, but it was different. It wasn’t as strong as his, not by a long shot, but it was more than I’d felt before. I lifted my hands and ran them down the length of my body, watching as my clothes changed into light and breathable but strong material. The long sleeves were dark lines of multicolored thread glistened when I moved. The chest piece was golden armor with a half cloak of starlight pinned with Destiny's brooch. My daggers were secured to either side of my belt that snuggly accentuated my waist where the gown flared out and cascaded down my legs like a dark night sky.
Matthew let out a loud noise. “Damn Penny! That’s impressive!”
“You look amazing, my lady!”
“Kids got more talent with gowns than wood, that’s for sure,” Merv teased, bumping my shoulder.
“Hell appropriate?” I asked.
“Very much so.” She said as the doors to the library opened and the familiar light footsteps of Dream echoed through the library as he moved with haste.
Dream’s mouth opened, ready to call out to Lucienne no doubt, but he quickly shifted into a sigh as his eyes met mine and he swept towards us. Merv and the dream quietly excused themselves from the library, as Matthew and Lucienne moved to the corner. "There you are. You should be in bed."
"I have work to do," I answered, awkwardly fixing the fastenings of my newly made gown.
I could feel his eyes look me up and down, admiring either the gown or my figure beneath it. "And what work takes precedence over your health?"
Here we go. "I have to take these back to Hell."
I could feel that hum of his resistance roll through me. "No."
"Dream," I sighed. My side burned as I turned to look up at him. "You of all people can understand that this is important. It's my job, just as ruling over the collective unconscious of this world is yours. I have to do this and you have to let me."
"The Morningstar will be looking to ensnare you again." He warned. "Not only for your association to me, but because of your power and because you've killed one of their more powerful demons."
"I know." I touched the brooch. "Destiny has asked me to do this. As an emissary I should be free to come and go."
Dream still wasn't convinced. "Should be, but they will try to trick you or bend the rules."
"If worse comes to worse I'll just teleport out. They won't be able to hold me for long."
"I'm coming with you." He decided.
"No. If you set one foot in Hell they will either lock you up or kill you."
I was right and he knew it. "Take Matthew then."
With a sigh and a smile I shook my head. "Matthew hates Hell."
Dark and strong clouds took shape beside us as Storm bowed. "My lord, my lady. I wish to accompany you."
“I would gladly welcome your company, Storm,” I said, relieved that they were willing to join me. Having a friend at my back, especially one as intimidating as them would hopefully help calm my nerves and keep Lucifer from trying anything.
Dream acknowledged Storm with a polite nod and then looked at me one last time. It was obvious he didn't want me to go, but unlike all the times before he seemed softer as he agreed. "Be careful. You are still injured and they will see it as weakness."
"Thank you," I said, my hand brushing against his.
"I have one condition."
"Dream…"
He lifted his hands, a brilliant and gleaming circlet crown with a vibrant blue gem in the center of two butterflies sitting against his palms. "Wear this. That it may remind any that sees it of your status in our realm."
Without a word he set it on my head, wearing my hair around it and gently holding my face in his hands. "Thank you, Morpheus."
"Do not thank me for giving you what's rightfully yours." He pressed a kiss to my hand and squeezed it. "You will return once you've finished, won't you?"
"Of course I will." I answered. It was awkward between us, the things left unsaid and unacknowledged festing between us as we interacted with one another. "We have a lot to talk about."
Guilt and sorrow flared in his chest as he nodded. "We do, but later."
I smiled a bit and nodded. "Later."
"Yes," he replied fondly.
Lifting myself up on the tips of my toes I pressed a kiss to his cheek, hoping the simple act could convey my sincerity, and turned to Storm. "Ready?"
They bowed again. “I am beside you, my lady.”
I secured the head onto my belt and grabbed the book, sparing one last look at Dream as black sand swirled around Storm and I, engulfing us in it and then fading away to reveal the charred bodies that lined the gates of Hell.
“There’s one at the door,” a heavy breathy voice followed. “At the gate of damnation. Is thief, thug or whore?” At the end of the burnt hallway of mangled bodies behind the twisted gate I could make out the tall and burly figure of the demon as he stood, waiting. “There’s one at the door. And there’s room for one more till the end of creation.”
The gates of Hell were less grand than I’d imagined and clearly geared toward terrifying anyone stupid enough to find themselves here. I walked forward with my head held high, I would not meet the Devil as a scared sniveling girl again. “Hello, Demon. I’ve come to speak with the Morningstar.”
The demon chuckled. “And who are you?”
“I am the Fate Weaver and Lady of The Dreaming.” 
“Do all queens have such small crowns? Or is it just you?” 
Thunder clapped behind me, a cold wind swirling in the air. “You can either open the gate or I can tear it open. The choice is yours, but either way I’ll be seeing your master.”
A smaller figure, gleaming in silver, stepped to the side of the demon guarding the gate. “Move, Squaterbloat. They’re expecting this one.”
“Mazikeen,” I said softly, nodding at her as the gates opened. “Thank you.”
She bowed her head to me. “Apologies, my lady, for the rudeness of our gatekeeper.”
I gave the demon a side glance as I walked through, looking at the dimly lit sky raining with fire ash. “It’s fine, one doesn’t expect courtesy in Hell.”
The path ahead was lined with demons, each holding a blazing brazier, the smell of their burnt flesh wafting towards me as Mazikeen gestured forward. “Our ruler awaits you in the palace and has prepared all of Hell to entertain you during your stay.”
“I have no need for entertainment,” I answered, holding the book tightly in my hand. 
“Our master insisted. They said you will be staying for quite some time.”
“I’ve come to return something of your sovergines, as well as receive answers.” As we passed each demon, thunder echoed behind me and dark clouds plumed at my back. I smiled at the theatrics of my companion. It appeared I would be entering Hell with wings of my own. "I won't be staying long."
Mazikeen led me the whole way to the palace, across the steep winding bridge and through the large stone gates back into the familiar dark stone of the devil's palace. She bowed to Lucifer, moving into the shadows of the room as I stepped up the stairs. Their great wings tucked into their back as they turned to me with a smile. Their eyes looked at the wings Storm had given me with a chuckle. “Quite the entrance you make, Lady of The Dreaming.”
“I figured Hell would be the appropriate place for such theatrics,” I said, bowing my head. “I assume you know why I’m here.”
“You’ve come to return something of mine, I hope.” They looked at the book and then the head that hung around my belt.
I set the book on the table between us, then I unbound the head and set it beside it. The words Destiny had prepared for me rolled off my tongue. “Lucifer, honorable Ruler of Hell, I come to you with a proposition from Destiny of the Endless. I offer you the effects of the slain demon Mephistopheles in return for the previous Fate Weavers artifacts.” Their eyes lit up as I spoke, delighted to hear such a formal message. “As well as safe passage through Hell and an undelayed departure. Do this and Destiny promises there will be no need for war between Hell and the Endless.”
They waved their hand, a box being brought out by another demon and set on the table. “We were prepared for such a trade. You do surprise me though, dear one. Not so long ago you were shaking and fearful in this very room. And now, you stand before me again, tall and steady.”
“I’ve been through a lot in the past few months,” I said. “A meeting with the devil isn’t exactly surprising anymore.”
“There’s something else you want,” they said confidently. “Ask it, and perhaps I will grant it to you.”
I took a deep breath. The questions I had weren’t ones Lucifer could answer. Only one person could answer them. “I want to speak with Nada.”
Their smile grew wider as they moved around the table to stand in front of me, eyes piercing my soul. “Nada? Now why would the Lady of The Dreaming wish to speak with one their king has condemned to Hell?”
“She can answer some of the questions I have.” I said plainly.
Lucifer tilted their head to the side and thought for a moment. “Why should I let you speak to her?”
“Me asking is a courtesy,” I answered. “We both know I could just teleport to her if I wanted to. But, I wish to respect your authority in your realm, so please, allow me to speak with her and then I will leave.”
They chuckled. “Another question, why should I let you go? You are Dreams beloved and he would surely come to save you, should you be trapped. It would be quite a brilliant lure.”
“It would. But, it would also bring Destiny to retrieve me, and with him Death and Delirium.” Fire burned in their eyes. “I am a Fate Weaver and the Endless have made it known that they respect my position enough to defend me if need be. Is war what you seek?”
“It would make God quite angry with me.” They smiled, but their fire in their eyes faltered.
“It wouldn’t last long enough for him to notice. The Endless united would destroy you.” My words swam in their eyes as they regarded me with a look I’d almost consider admiration.
Lucifer stood up straight and gestured toward  the windows of their palace. “You are free to seek out Nada, Lady of The Dreaming, I’ll allow you a short amount of time and then you will leave. Should you refuse to go, you will remain here.”
I bowed my head again, retrieving the box from the table. “Thank you, your majesty.”
With Storm at my back one of the demons had escorted me to the tall winding tower and up the steps to the thorned gates of the cell that housed the woman Dream had once loved. She was beautiful, even in the distressed state that Hell had driven her to. Her skin glistened in the dull firelight as she turned, shimmering brown eyes wide and hopeful. “Kai'ckul?”
Our eyes locked and a wave of confusion washed over her before understanding sparked. “Hello, Nada. Forgive me, if my presence has brought you more distress. I just wanted to speak with you.”
“He spoke true then?” She said quietly. “He has found another… His queen.”
I shook my head. “I’m not a queen. I’m just… Just me.”
Nada stood, moving to meet me at the gate, her hands curling around the thorns. “Yet a crown he's given you, small but more significant than you could ever realize. What is it you seek?”
“I…” Maybe this was a mistake. What would my questions accomplish? “I just wanted to know what he was like, when you knew him.”
“He was magnificent,” she said, eyes drifting off into the distance, some part of her finding a moment of release in the memories. “Beautiful and powerful… Being loved by him was consuming. Kai'ckul loves deeply and holds onto that which he loves with a grip like chains. We were never meant to be eternal, but I knew it was what he wished of me, and perhaps before the destruction of my home… perhaps things could have been different.”
She was kind, such a beautiful soul. “I am sorry about what happened to your people, and to you.” I looked around at the small space that was her prison. “You don’t deserve to be here.”
Nadas' eyes returned to mine. “You cannot free me.”
“No,” I answered solemnly. “But I will try to convince him to return for your freedom.”
“Kai'ckul will not listen to you,” she said. “He listens to none but himself, for he is a proud king above all. I could feel how deeply he loves you when I saw him last, and I can see how deeply you love him. But he is Endless, his pride will never bend to anyone. One day he will cast you aside for duty and if you gain his ire he will cast you from his side… perhaps even to a prison like my own.” 
Had I not already done that? Had I not questioned him and insulted him and gained his anger more than once? I shook my head. “That is not the man I know. He is stubborn and can be unmovable at times, quick to anger and prideful yes, but he’s never once threatened to cast me aside and when I have gone he has always come looking for me.”
Nada took in my words and smiled softly. “You think he has changed?”
“I know he has,” I said. “I’ve seen it.”
The demon that escorted me shifted, my time was running out. Nada took my hand in hers and pressed a kiss to it. “Lady of The Dreaming, I wish you luck in your endeavors. And… And I humbly ask that you not forget me. If anyone can convince him to free me, it is you.”
“I won’t forget.” I promised. “And the next time you see me, you’ll be free. I know it.”
The demon moved forward but Storm and I were gone, back in the library. I set the box down on the table and asked Lucienne to watch over it and went to find Dream. I expected him to be in the throne room, but he wasn’t. As I opened the door to the bedroom I didn’t see him at first, but when I turned to leave he emerged from the balcony. “You’ve returned.”
I could see the worry in his face melt away as he stood on the opposite side of the room. “Of course I did. We need to talk.”
“Indeed.” He sighed. “I thought you were trapped… You were gone longer than I expected.”
“I was safe,” I assured him, picking at my fingers. “I… I spoke with Nada.”
Dreams face fell again, dark and sad as he took on the weight of my words. “I see.”
“Does that upset you?”
“Only because I know what she will have said about me.” He admitted. “And I fear that it will change how you see me.”
“Nothing could change how I see you,” I said, just as he had to me all those months ago. “What you did to Nada was wrong, but you’ve already admitted that you know that.”
He studied my face closely. “Then why did you go to her?”
I shrugged. “I needed to know if the person I spent the last few months feuding with at every turn was the person your other lovers knew.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve seen the change in you. You are not that man anymore. After… After Roderick and the years we spent apart, you’ve changed Morpheus. I know that you don’t like to think you have, but you have.”
For a moment I thought he would insist he hadn’t changed, like all the times we’d spoken about it before, but instead he nodded. “I know.”
“What?”
“I know that I have changed,” he breathed out. “It was… unexpected and difficult to come to terms with, but… I am glad that I did. It puts many things into a different perspective.”
I took a step forward. “Like what?”
His starry eyes met mine as he moved closer to me. “I have treated you poorly… Have wronged you and denied you that which is your right and I have done it all to satisfy my own pride. Asking you to halt your duties as Lady of The Dreaming was my first mistake, one I regret more than words can express. Growing angry with you for doing that which is merely your nature to, was my second. You have helped this realm far more than anyone since you came here. You have brought hope and laughter back to The Dreaming in a way I never could have accomplished. But what I regret most deeply, is how I spoke to you the night you left. You were right. Gault did not deserve the punishment I gave her, nor did Nada. You were right to question my judgment and I… I am sorry that my words, my actions forced you to leave and placed you at the hands of my sibling.”
I stiffened at the mention of Desire, tears filling my eyes as I looked away from him. “That night… I kissed them. But I didn’t…” God I was so stupid. “I thought they were you. They looked like you and then I saw you in the mirror…”
“I know,” he said, reaching out to press a gentle hand to my arm. “I know what they did to you and I am sorry I did not get there sooner. I looked… I spent all night looking for you, I even asked Hob Gadling for help.”
I smiled a little. “I knew you were looking for me.”
“How?”
“I spoke to your sister. Despair first,” I admitted. “I kind of fell into her realm. But when I came back De… Delirium saved me from falling off a roof.” I smiled, only now remembering the way her eyes were the same color, blue just like Dreams. “She and I have known each other for a while though… From the asylum. She tried to get me to wait for you, but… I was scared.”
Dream stiffened, and even through the barrier still between us I could feel the hurt in him. “You were afraid I would hurt you?”
“No!” I said quickly, my eyes meeting his again as I grabbed his hand to keep him from retreating. “No, Dream… I wasn’t scared of you. I was scared you’d see me and it would just confirm that I was nothing more than a mortal. That I wasn’t worthy of being your equal. So, I left and then things started to get… worse. I’d only felt that out of control when I was back at the asylum and it.... I went to a bridge and, uh, almost jumped.” I could see the fear in his eyes grow. “Death brought Pierre to me and they stayed with me until Johanna picked me up.”
“I am so sorry that my sibling drove you to such a dark place,” he said. “You did not deserve that, none of it.” His eyes sparkled. “I am not worthy to have you as an equal… You are far more wise and loving and strong than I could ever hope to be, my love. You deserve my power.”
I shook my head, laughing softly. “You’re an idiot. I never wanted your power Dream. I just wanted you.”
He smiled, his hand stroking my cheek. “I see that now. I know that the trust that was broken between us will take time to heal. Words are not enough to make up for all the months I’ve mistreated you, but I wish to show you now… in our room, what you mean to me, if you’ll allow me.”
I lifted my lips to his, just a breath away from touching. “Pierre asked me to make you work for my forgiveness.”
Dream smirked. “Did he?”
“Oh yes, I believe the exact word he used was grovel.”
“I will,” he said seriously. “If it’s what you wish I, Morpheus, King of Dreams will grovel before my lady.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want you to grovel, but I am going to make you work for it. You can start by kissing me.”
He needed no further instruction, hands wrapping around my waist and pulling me into him, his head ducking down to press his cold, silken lips to mine. Chills ran all over me as the barrier between us fell apart and both of us were overcome with everything we'd been holding back. For a minute all we could do was breathe against one another as everything settled between us. It would take time to sift through everything, but we had it.
Dream closed his eyes, holding me tightly. "It's good to feel you again. I've missed your heart bearing beside mine."
"As have I," I replied. "No more barriers."
"No more." He agreed, pulling me into another kiss.
It had only been a few days, but so much had happened it felt like a lifetime had passed since we last touched each other like this. He waved away our clothes, both of us moaning at the feel of each other's skin, as he moved us to the bed. His mouth was on my neck the second my back hit the silk sheets, biting and sucking and kissing down my body. He lavished each breast before moving lower, pulling my legs over his shoulders and burying his face between them.
My hands fisted in his hair, pulling at the roots as his tongue lapped at my core, twirling around my clit and plunging as deep inside me as he could make it. My moans and mewls filled the room as the stained glass glowed brighter, casting Dream in a heavenly glow as he looked up at me from between my thighs. "God you're pretty."
He hummed against me, nearly bringing me to climax. He pulled his mouth away for a moment, chills breath fanning across my wet skin. "You are divine, in every way. Your body, your voice, your scent… The way you taste. I could spend hours feasting on you."
I moaned, tossing my head back with a breath. "I don't doubt it."
With a gentle chuckle he returned his mouth to me, moving in the way he knew drove me mad. I came, breathlessly against his tongue. He would have kept going, but I had other plans. I tugged at his hair until he rose from the floor, kissing up my chest until he reached my lips. Pulling him to me I kissed him desperately until his body relaxed on top of me. I flipped us over, hovering over him with a smile. "My turn, Dream Lord."
Unlike the few times before Dream relaxed into the bed, spreading his arms out, relinquishing full control to me. "I am yours, my love."
I returned the favor, sucking marks into his neck, kissing each one and moving down the length of his body until I reached his hard cock. Stroking it slowly in my hand I listened to every soft sigh and strained moan that spilled from his lips. Morpheus was never very loud in bed, but god the noises he did make were heavenly, or sinful perhaps.
I kissed his hips before moving my lips to pepper his cock with the feather light kisses and licks. His hands fisted in the sheets. "Penelope," he gasped. "Don't play games with me."
"I would never, my king," I answered, licking slowly up the length of him and swirling my tongue over the tip. My lips wrapped around him, slowly moving until the majority of him was in my mouth, my hand pumping what remained as I settled into a steady rhythm.
One of his hands fisted into my hair, not pushing me further down or pulling me away, just grounding himself as worked. I didn't know how long it took for him to take hold of my head and lift his hips eagerly into my mouth, his moans growing louder and louder until he pulled me off him and dragged me up to straddle his waist. I'd expected him to flip us over and retake control, but he didn't. 
Morpheus looked into my eyes as he guided me down onto him, just like at the lake but this time his hands were soft against my skin. He let me move, set the pace and simply ran his hands along my skin, closing his eyes to savor the feel of us both moving against each other. He finally surrendered control and that fact drove me to move faster, to kiss him harder, to pour every ounce of love and admiration I held for him into this moment. Forgiveness, full and complete forgiveness, would take us both time, but in this moment there was no doubt in my mind that he was the man I knew him to be.
I came and he followed, but he continued to fuck me all through the afternoon, by the end of it both of us were spent and breathing against one another as we lay tangled in the sheets. "Was that satisfactory work for you, my love?"
With a smile I kissed him again. "It was a very satisfying start."
"Cruel thing," he teased, his hand resting on his chest where his ruby would have sat, reminding me of my own gem sitting in my drawer.
"Would a cruel thing have a present for you?" I asked moving to my desk and taking the necklace out, hiding it in my palm.
I returned to my place by his side. "A gift?"
"The project you were so curious about. It was this," I opened my palm and dangled the necklace in front of him. "It just seemed like you missed having one, so I made this."
Dream sat up and ran his fingers along the jewel with a soft smile. "It is magnificent."
I watched him slide it over his head and admired it against his bare chest. He lifted my head and kissed me deeply. "I shall have to make you a gift."
"You don't have to do anything," I assured him. "Just lay with me."
"Always."
As we lay together we caught each other up on all the details of the last few days. Both of us were content for the first time in a long time.
“Matthew said The Dreaming wasn’t doing so well after I left. I’m sorry if I caused any problems,” I said tracing shapes into his chest. “I didn’t think it would be that bad.”
“You didn’t cause most of the damage,” Dream admitted. “It was Rose Walker and her friend, Lyta Hall.”
“What did they do?”
Dream sighed. “Rose weakened the barrier between dreams and reality, giving her friend an opportunity to live out a life with her dead husband, who had been using dreams to avoid his fate. I had to step in. Her husband is now at the place appointed for him and Lyta Hall and her baby are within my sight.”
“Baby?” I sat up a bit. “She had a baby in The Dreaming?”
“The child was conceived in The Dreaming,” he clarified. “When he grows I will have to make certain he’s safe.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Did you tell her that? Should we be checking in on them?”
He chuckled a little, shaking his head. “Oh I doubt she would be happy to see me again.”
“I mean you took her husband from her, but that wasn’t really up to you. You just did what you had to.” I answered, examining the look on his face. “What else did you do?”
“I may have… rushed through the process and… perhaps… insinuated I would take her child.”
My mouth fell open as I glared down at him. “Tell me exactly what you said.”
He sighed. “I informed her that the child was conceived in The Dreaming and told her I would come for it.”
“Dream!” I slapped his arm. “You cannot just tell people you’re going to steal their kids!”
“I’ve no intention of stealing the child!” He argued. “He has power, and such can be used against us should another being learn of his existence. He will need to be watched over and taught how to harness his abilities eventually.”
“I understand that,” I said sternly. “Lyta Hall does not! She’s just a human that thinks some god is coming after her kid.”
I stood up and started getting dressed. “What are you doing?”
“WE are going to apologize to Lyta Hall and assure her that her kid isn’t getting stolen.” I waved my hand to him. “Get up, baby stealer, let's go.”
Dream complied with a heavy sigh. “I forgot how demanding you can be.”
With a smirk I pulled myself into his chest. “I can be very convincing too.”
“I am aware,” he said, kissing my lips gently. “You’ll be showing me after we return from this endeavor.”
“Will I?” “I too can be very convincing, my lady.”
***
We stood awkwardly in their living room, everyone staring us down but none more than Lyta. She blocked the path between us and Daniel with a glare that spoke the words she did not. I turned and glanced back at Dream, who met her glare with one of his own. “Could you just try to not look so… you?”
He practically rolled his eyes as he looked over at me. “This was your idea.”
“You need to apologize,” I said quietly as I elbowed him. “You promised!”
Dream sighed heavily, stepping forward a bit and addressing Lyta. "I am sorry for insinuating that I would steal your baby."
"The gift too."
A quiet groan. "Here is a gift, to show our good will."
He held the onesie out to Rose, who took one look at it and chuckled. “My little Dreamer?” She asked looking up at Morpheus who looked back at me with a glare when my giggling grew too loud.
“If I recall, you are the one that chose this gift,” he practically growled.
“I did! It was just too funny.” Rose laughed with me as Dream and Lyta continued their glaring. Rose turned to her friend, showing her the soft fabric and though her anger and near hatred remained prominent I could see a glimmer of something in her eyes. I stepped around Dream and held the basket out to her. “There’s also these.”
Lyta looked at the basket and then up at me. “Why are you doing this?”
I smiled. “Because I can only imagine how terrible it must have been for you to lose your husband again and then have to fear losing your baby too. Dream is….” I shook my head and shrugged. “He’s an idiot. But, I can assure you he has no intention of stealing your baby.”
“How can we know that?” She demanded. “He’s some kind of god, isn’t he? What’s to stop him from just doing what he wants?”
“Me.” I answered without hesitation. “If he tried to take your child I would stop him.”
Dream's hand on my back was comforting as he replied, “It will not come to such. I give you my word that I will never seek to part you from your son, Lyta.”
She didn’t look convinced, but when Rose grabbed her hand and nodded she softened a bit. “Alright, well what do you want?”
“To offer my protection, to both of you,” Dream said. “He was born of a dream and as such he was born with power. One day I fear there will be those that seek to use him for their own gain.”
Seeing the renewed fear in her eyes I stepped forward and smiled. “Don’t worry, between the two of us he’ll be safer than the pope.”
She laughed a little and took hold of my hand. “Why does it feel like I can trust you?”
“Because you can,” I answered. “You might not know me, but I’d never let anyone hurt a child. Nor would I attempt to steal one from its mother.” I sent Dream a glare over my shoulder. “I’m sorry about the misunderstanding and no doubt fear it’s placed into your life unnecessarily.”
Rose lifted the basket up. “I mean if the amount of gifts they brought means anything I’d say they’re telling the truth.”
I took the soft raven plushie off the top of the pile and showed it to Rose. “Matthew’s contribution. May I?”
Lyta stiffened for a second, fear and anxiety plaguing her as she shifted to the side, letting me move toward Daniel. “Yeah.”
He was laying in his crib, oblivious to anything other than the small winding mobile hanging over him. When I bent over the side his eyes slid up to mine and a wide smile spread on his chubby cheeks as I held the raven out to him. His tiny hands took hold of it, “Jessamy.”
I smiled, tears swelling in my eyes as I studied the plushie. “It does look more like her, doesn’t it?”
Lyta and Rose came rushing to him, praising him for the word, quite possibly his first, as I looked back at Dream who smiled at the sight. It was awkward and full of tension, but it was a start. Dream rarely came with me when I visited Rose and Daniel and Lyta, but that was more to ease Lytas mind. He sent gifts with me, clothes and toys, books from Lucienne dedicated to recording Daniels first within The Dreaming. She had gushed over it for hours, pointing out how magnificent of a dreamer Daniel was.
The last time I visited them everything was the same as it always was, but this time when Daniel fell asleep with his plush raven I noticed a tiny name tag around its neck that read Jessamy. I smiled to myself at the thoughtfulness of it. Dream may not have visited often, but when he did he made sure he always left something behind for the growing boy.
***
The months that followed were hard, but unlike before it felt like Dream and I were a team. We solved problems together, he came to me for my council and considered my opinion before making any decisions. He even started delegating some of his work to me, teaching me how to do things around The Dreaming and trusting me to do what I felt was best. He even let me help him in designing new dreams and nightmares.
The residents of The Dreaming were glad to have me around and it seemed like they valued my contributions to their world. It took a while before they began to see the change in Dream, but once they did the change was almost instant. They were always happy to see him as he walked through the town, it was no longer simply respect that they showed him but also the love he had longed for from them. Dream would spend some time among them every day, creating things, conversing, listening to their complaints or criticisms and taking it into account. If there were changes that he could make, he would.
It was good to finally see him receiving the adoration he deserved. He still had moments of forgetfulness, but The Dreaming and its residents were far more understanding of it now that they understood. He was trying his best, and everyone saw it. Accepting that he had changed was difficult for him, but now that he was here he seemed far more willing to not only accept it but embrace it. Things between us only grew stronger as the days passed, and if possible I’d fallen even more in love with him.
I walked along the beach, toward the distant figure of Lucienne and Dream. This was where he liked to work, far from the noise of The Dreaming and somewhere open enough for him to create freely. The closer I got the more visible the new dream became and a smile pulled at my lips. “You look gorgeous, Gault.”
She laughed, the cosmic color of her dark skin lighting up and her wings flaring out proudly as she examined herself. “Thank you, Lucienne.” She smiled up at Dream. “May I ask what made you change your mind about me, sir?”
“I have no right returning here after over a century expecting everything to be just as I left it. Lucienne tried to tell me that, so did you. But now I’m listening, or trying to.” He sent Lucienne a smile. “New dreams. New nightmares. A new age.”
“Thank you, sir.”
I moved closer with a bright smile. “Stealing my ideas now, Dream Lord?”
He chuckled. “You hardly invented butterfly wings, my lady.”
“They suit you, Gault.” I said to her, “You make a beautiful dream.”
“Thank you, my lady.” She bowed her head to me and then turned to Dream and bowed. “Thank you, my lord.”
She flew up into the sky, the blues and purples of her wings glittering in the sunlight. “I may be here a while. Would you mind taking care of things while I work?” He asked Lucienne.
“With pleasure, sir.” She answered happily as she bowed to us both and turned back towards The Dreaming.
Dream watched Gault fly into the clouds a moment before looking at me. “I believe there was another nightmare you wished to change.”
I nearly cried as I nodded. “Are you alright with that?”
“I am.” He said, and I could feel how deeply he meant it. “They have served you well in the past months, and they deserve to be what they wish.”
Holding the vial of storms in my hands I summoned the dark clouds and lightning. Storm looked around, confused for a moment before bowing. “My lord, my lady. Do you have need of me?”
“You once told me you wished to be a dream,” I started. “Do you still?”
They looked at Dream but nodded. “Yes.”
I placed the vial in their forming hands and held them tightly in my own, feeling the darkness and the cold winds between my palms. I focused on white clouds and calm seas, the sky as the sun rose and filled it with light and warmth. The vial shattered and wind swirled around us for a moment before light spread up Storms form, dark clouds shifting and changing color until they stood in front of me, calm puffy white clouds with hues of orange and purple, warm and filled with joy. “Then a dream you are, my friend.”
They looked at themselves, bright sunny eyes looking up at me with joy. “Thank you, my lady.”
“No, thank you. If not for you… your loyalty and friendship, well I wouldn’t be here.”
Dream stood beside me, a hand on my back. “I thank you, dream, for being there for my lady when I could not.”
They bowed. “It was my honor. But… Now I will not be able to serve you, my lady.”
“You don’t need to,” I answered. “Go, be a dream my friend. Feel the sun.”
“I need a new name,” they said. “Would you give me one, my lady?”
“What about Cloud Shaper?” I asked.
The clouds puffed up happily and the light hues shined brighter. “Cloud Shaper. You honor me, my lady.”
I watched them spread out over the sky, filling it with various shapes and hues of color, leaning into Dreams' side. “Thank you.” “I did nothing,” he insisted. “Now, I must return to my work, but I will join you later, my love.”
I pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’ve got to get back to work too. I’ll find you when I’m done?”
Dream pressed his head to mine for a moment. “I would like that.”
After I finished my duties I went to the library to spend some time with Lucienne while I waited for Dream to finish his work, but to my surprise he was already there. He and Lucienne spoke softly to one another. What was he planning? I asked myself as I walked closer, nearly tripping when three loud caws echoed in the room. Matthew was perched on the shelves between me and them, standing guard. They turned to me and smiled, ceasing their conversation as I moved closer. “What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” Dream asked. Was he nervous?
I tilted my head. “You’re up to something.”
“Perhaps. But it’s nothing you need to worry yourself with.”
Lucienne smiled wider. “You’re not going to tell me either?”
She laughed. “No, my lady, I fear I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”
“What about you Smokey?” I asked Matthew.
“Not a chance Penny.”
Dream held his hand out toward me with a smile. “Will you join me for a walk?”
I tapped my foot, pretending to think it through, before smiling up at him and taking his hand. “I suppose I could make time for you.”
“Busy are you?”
“Very!” I insisted. “I am Lady of the Dreaming, you know. It’s a very demanding position.”
“Oh I’m certain it is.”
He offered me his arm and I took it without question. We made our way through The Dreaming, greeting everyone we passed and the whole walk all I could feel was Dreams joy. He was happier than I’d ever seen him and in turn it made me feel even more joyful. At last, he was finding the balance between his duty and his people and I was proud of him. He’d come a long way. We walked down a new path, filled with tall trees and wildflowers swarmed with butterflies, it felt familiar the longer we walked. “What is this place?”
“Fiddlers Green,” he answered.
“The last of your missing Arcana?”
“Yes,” he said. “And somewhere you have wished to see for a long while.”
The path opened up to a field of wildflowers, in the distance a waterfall of crystal clear water roared to life, pouring into a lake that sparkled in the rising moonlight. It looked just like I imagined it would, no, how I pictured it could never do it justice. "It's beautiful."
"The sandman never forgets a dreamer," he said beside me.
With teary eyes I smiled up at him. "Thank you."
"After all you endured because of me," he paused, cold fingers gliding over the scars on my collarbone. "I owed you this at the very least."
"You're Dream of the Endless, you owe nothing to anyone, least of all me."
"I owe you everything, Penelope." It wasn't said out of obligation, but instead he said it like it was a simple fact. Nervousness tingled up my spine as he breathed out a breath. "None of this would have been possible without you."
"You would have done alright on your own," I assured him.
He swallowed thickly. "Perhaps, but it would not have been the same. You have reminded me of so much that I once thought lost, so much that I'd never thought I would want again. My subjects love, one to share my burdens with… A family." Turning toward me he smiled. "Penelope, I would give you anything you wished for and I promised you once that I would make you a queen if you wished it." 
"Morpheus," I whispered. "You are all I want, whether or not the title comes with it I don't care as long as I have you."
"Would you wish to become my Queen and bind yourself to me?" He suddenly asked, eyes shining.
I smirked. "Pretty sure we're already bound together. But yes, I would."
He lifted his hand, opening his palm to reveal a new moonstone ring, more beautiful and extravagant than the last. Two butterflies held up the gleaming stone set in a silver band of starlight. "Will you marry me, Penelope Barlow, Fate Weaver?"
Happy tears filled my eyes as I nodded. "Yes. I will marry you, Morpheus, Dream of the Endless." Once he slid the ring on my finger I grabbed his gem necklace and pulled his lips to mine. The Sandman never forgets a dreamer indeed. I thought, making him smile against my lips.
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nintendont2502 · 6 months
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thinking about davesprite. i blame you /lh but anyways. any hcs about him that you have Not been able to post because they just. weren't ever topical.
so many. so so so fucking many. i try to keep sdd relatively close to canon characterisation wise but,,,,, fuck i have ideas
this ones just a straight up headcanon thats barely tied to canon but gender apathetic/agender any pronouns davesprite,, big fan of this one in combination with t4t pepsisprite (dsprite is junes birdfriend)
this could be a whole rant to itself but i have. so many thoughts on davesprites relationship with bro and how fucked up it is. to make what could be a whole ass essay short and to just focus on one tiny fucked up aspect of it,,, davesprite associating pain and injury with his brother but in a 'positive' way, because him being hurt has always been associated with 'positive' memories of bro for him (bro training him 'because he cares', bro helping him stitch himself up after a particularly bad strife when he was too young to do it himself, getting his literal wing torn off while bro died protecting him,,, man).
semi related to above but he does exhibit some bird behaviours even if he refuses to admit it - the big one is pulling out his feathers when hes stressed (again, vaguely related to above - davesprite getting stressed about bro and pulling out too many feathers, and that pain simultaneously making things worse *and* calming him down)
my headcanons for a post game dsprite where he somehow makes it to the creation of the universe are either 'he makes it through and gets given a real body and the ability to age :))' or. well. hes a game construct right. hes just. hes an npc. hes meant to be part of the game. ...what if it doesnt let him leave. what if going through the door completely wipes his data and hes just. gone. what if hes forced to choose between being stuck in the session alone forever or disappearing from existence permanently. (this was actually the basis of a fic idea lmao)
as much as i love davesprite dream bubble content.... i dont think hed make it into the bubbles. hes not a person, right. fuck if the *guardians* dont make it then what chance does he have
i dont think he sleeps much.
[slaps davesprite] this sad boy can fit so many identity crises into him
how does he know hes himself. like. how does he know hes not just code programmed to think hes dave and act like dave. sure hes clinging to that old identity that he isnt allowed to have anymore, but what if that was never him? who is he, then?
jesus christ these got depressing
bird mating rituals,, he gives john cool rocks and shiny things and gets really flustered about it because 'holy shit im being so obvious' and johns just like 'haha cool! :B'
he gives davesprite like. a shiny bit of plastic one day as a joke and davesprite gets way too happy about it.
dave and davesprite brothers is so fucking real. to me.
less a headcanon, more a thought i cant get out of my head. davesprite literally keeping his sword in his chest is. fuck man. thats something. the only way he can use it is by taking it out which has gotta fucking hurt,,,, violence and fighting hurting himself just as much as it hurts everyone else
i like drawing post battleship dsprite with the missing wing and stomach hole still because im gonna be so real i dont think sburb would heal that. who cares right. it isnt threatening him at all - sure it hurts a lil but he could get used to it, and it isnt impacting his role, and like. hes just a sprite. who cares
^^ and if it *can* be healed, i still dont think it would by then. look man im just a sucker for emotional and mental healing being represented physically,,, the only time they heal is when he finally gives himself a break and lets himself rest and lower his guard and heal emotionally
again this isnt really a headcanon it just haunts me. davesprite is/was a knight of time right. both serving (and sacrificing for) time and using time as a weapon. thinking about how weapons can both protect and injure, or even kill. thinking about how davesprite probably feels responsible for all those deaths in the doomed timeline. thinking about how he essentially killed himself by travelling back. thinking about how he did it to protect.
...davesprite thinking about what would happen if dave died permanently. hed never do anything. hed never let that happen. but... the timeline needs a dave, right. and davesprite would still be there. hed never do anything to make it happen. but what if that was his chance.
i love the idea that dsprite acts more like dirk and hal acts more like dave (mirroring their text colours). i just think its fun
yall ever think about how the shades john gave dave were so important that when he was literally recreated, the universe still gave them to him? he wasnt wearing then when he was prototyped. because i do. i think about it all the time.
new pesterchum handle. turnedtechGodhead is the only one ive thought of atm but im gonna make more i stg (vaguely related: hals pesterchum is turingTested. that is all)
i swear to god theres more rattling around in there but i cant reach it and this is logn enough so :thumbsup:
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lappel-du-vide83 · 7 months
Text
Trash of the count's family has been living rent free in my head for the past month so here have me LOSING MY MIND OVER HIM <3
Warning this is quite long and has swears and only starts at around chapter 300
See if you can guess what was happening ;)
Tcf rants
Chap 355 ERUHABEN PROTECTING CALE AND RAON I AM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH
352 why do I have no money? JSOWPWHEJEN PEPEFUCK YOUFUCKYOUFYUCKYOUm
And omg eruhaben picked him up LIKE A WET CAT WJWIOWQP
Like some point of record introduction is where the video call unbutton happens way before 350 why did I have to find calberu so late
OMG krs life is so sad " you were meant to die" 394
424 He and I are happy as well gahhhhhh cale crying stop QnQ
When you try to pay attention to the villains monologue but the voices in your head won't shut up 446
464  piggyback super funny bro gets carried like a haystack
485 self doubt is a bitch
BUT CALE RESOLVES IT THE VERY NEXT CHAPTER OMFG THAT WAS SO UGHHHHH <33333
THE BAIT IN THE NEXT CHAPTER AHHHH THERE'S NO SERVICE HERE
BRO that one chapter pls just LET HIM Cook
OMG "Please. Hyung-nim. I trust my smart hyung-nim.’
What in the goofy fuck is this arc (naru von ellejan)
543 was kinda cute dkwhy
582 The FEELS OMG LSH AND CALE HUG WJSIWPWPQLLQ
595 cale? Sparring? Training his physical body?? Impossible
601 BDAY CHAPTER YAYAAYy ALSO CALE HON NO STOP HURTING
602 ."God. You must have seen me die today." Holy fucking shit my dudes
"Cale had started at some point to caress Alberu’s mane whenever he had the time." kuxiydsljxkysiysitzjgzkyxou pls and thank you
Ws needs to STOP
605 ‘Even though he tells us to live, why?! Why?! Why does he push himself overboard each and every time?!’ WHY IS HE SO TRAGIC also choi han almost screaming cale instead of roksoo
"Choi Jung Soo looked as if he was about to cry as he responded to the weak voice." ubc am shakibg
Taerang is so funny omg
609 RAON IS JUST LIKE HIS DAD
612 ALBERU GOT A GUN
Let me see what you have
A gun
NO
613 "brightly as young Cale used to smile." awwwww
622 HIM SMILING BRIGHTLY OMGOMGOMG
623 "The Henituse household’s number one priority during that battle was-
‘To make sure that Cale survives.’" :OOOOOOOOO
The misunderstandings lmfaooo
626 ON AND HONG PART OF THE MOLAN HOUSEHOLD
LMFAO FREDO CALLING CALE SON AND THEN BASEN LILY AND VIOLAN LOSING IT
628 did not know duke deruth was chill like that
Poor guy cale bruh new member to caleism
644 Excuse me noble sacrifice???? Bitch you better not
646 INSTANTTTT
HE BETTER BE FINE "called the beginning and the end of everything." ISTG CALE IF YOU DIE
"Raon swore in the exact same manner as Cale before heading toward the terrace." RAON IS SO CUTE
652 RECONNECTION???? YOOOOO
655 THEY MEET AAGIN
656 STOP THIS HURTS ME BUT OMG OG CALE NOW KRS IS SO SJWOPWW
OMG why are they so wholesome to each other???
His mom bro omfg I am tearing
669 damn he's cold. But ig it's war bruh you gotta cold through the mess
670 just stab yourself they said. It'll be easy they said. BRO WHAKANDA REQUIREMENT IS THAT
671 AHH ANCIENT POWERS CALLING CALE " our kid"
The absolute disregard “Man, you talk to me so disrespectfully.”
680 THAT IS INSANE NO FUCKING WAY BRO
681 BRO DID HE JUST BITCHSLAP WS HE IS SO COOL THAT WAS EPIC
684 'cales in danger'? YOU FOOLS HE IS THE DANGER
And alberu spinning the gun??? How did he get so cool with it
685 MF JUST SOLOED THE WS THROUGH SHEER BLUFF HE IS SO OP
686 THIS PLACE ABOUTA BLOWW
687?? '“I finally think that my life is a bit precious.” CALE NO
He had an extremely useful worker BAHAHAHA
689 rasheel is so real
683 UPGRDAES PEOPLE UPGRADES
694 ALBERU IS TRULY A SIBLING OF CALE
697 HE DOESN'T EVEN REALISE HOW HYPOCRITICAL HE IS
BRO got a taste of his own medicine sit yo ass down and rest mf
699 OMGOMGOMGOMG
700 wait stop this is kinda sad
702 cale in his insane era
703 yo what is happening
705 foolishly thought there'll be angst but look at that potential
Alberu the og glib tongue
715 the sealed god better fucking stop before I beat yo ass
717 that gave me chills for some reason
720 shit not even cale is safe from the abusive childhood tragedy
BRO imma beat the ws up his stupid curse affecting krs
Also the plot thickens
723 clopeh is crazy in the best way
736 this entire arc bro cale is causing so much chaos
WTF why is krs life so sad bro
737 THE PLOT THICKENS
I love this arc wait they're supporting each other so much its so adorable
740 MF CLOPEH IS SPEEDRUNNING THIS THING LET'S GOOO
752 HE HIT HIM WITH A ROCK STOP
756 WHAT IS GOING ON????
759 AND HE STABS THIS MADLAD
760 CALE IS GONNA LIVE LOONG
And omg reactions!!
766 CALE FINALLY GETS IT
Karma bro
Sidestory 2-1 OG CALE FULL OF CLASS????
2-2 istg ogcale and krs ARE THE EXACT SAME PEOPLE "FLIP EVERYTHING OVER"????
2-3 HAHAHA I GONNA QUIT BEING THE MOST USED THREAT IS HILARIOUS
2.3 raon: can I be nice
Cale : no
WHY he so ruthless
BRO I just realised that this man has not sat down wtf he just finished fighting the sealed god let him REST
2. 4 "No matter what happened, the Crown Prince’s biggest ally was the Duke’s House of Henituse which had his sworn brother and his sword art instructor." GUYS
Ahh he was so sweet to the kid
2. 5 LET'S GOO MEET UP
2.14 wow that's insanely convenient that you need exactly 3 more assistants
2. 15 LET'S GOO MARY
RAON MADE HENI FROM HENITUSE STFU
2. 23 Mary tryna copy cale and alberu is so cute
2.23 WHY IS HE HURT????
2. 40 "The rejuvenated ancient Dragon smiled a lot more these days." AWWW GOLDIE GRAMPS
Also omfg cale stronk
2.41 so wait fire of destruction did become a god? How else does he know about super rock
2.49 AHAHAHA CHOI HAN GETTING CALE THE FUCKING PILLAR
2.55 damn our cale is strong
2.58 cale proving that once again, he is the scammer
2.59 nah bro this shit too goofy they're just waiting for him to faint
2.64 can we appreciate how fast choi han and sui khan protected cale like omg
2.65 GoD is so real bro is funny af
2.68 caleism ftw
2.70 LMFAO what does alberu want??
2.71 "I’ll give you the title of Minister of Finance. Will you do it?”" BRO IS ON HIS LAST STARW
2.72 BRO THE DYNAMIC HERE IS MWUAH AND EXCUSE ME?? ALBERU IS STILL HURT?? I WILL FIGHT SOMEONE
ALSO CALE NOT RESTING AND IMMEDIATELY GETTING AN INVITE IS RIDICULOUS
2.76 cale is too nice omg
2.79" H, human! I figured it out now! Clopeh has gone so crazy that he’s gone full circle and looks calm!" I FUCKING LOVE CLOPEH THIS CRAZY BASTARD
The foreshadowing here is nuts my dude
2.81 HELP ALBERU
ALSO THE FORESHADOWING IF HE GETS HURT ISTG
ALSO WHY IS ONLY MY MAN SEALED??
2.85 GAE-IL LMAFAOOOO
2.93 TOONKA REALLY WAS ABOUT TO THROW A CHAIR
2.96" up.? Who is above me" OMFG HELL YEAH
2.101 aww choi han and raon supporting him
2.104 AT THIS RATE HE WILL FAINT STOP IT
2.106 LMFAO THE CHOIS ARE SO AWKWARD
2.107 Jakqpqpq Ron using sneak attack to make cale rest
2.110 lmfao choi han is the best at knocking people unconscious
2.113  cale is coughing too much blood bro I know it doesn't hurt but godamn
2.116 I love dominating aura so much
2.119 I DIDNT KNOW I NEEDED CHOI HAN AND BEACROX SO MUCH
2.120 omg toonka found his bff
Tbc
In conclusion I love this story and everyone in it pls and thank you
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initiallytasteless · 1 year
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John ‘ Soap ‘ Mactavish x Reader
Just some cute fluff and bonding time with Soap.
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The car ride to base was quiet, hot, and hellish. The summer months had rolled in a couples weeks ago and the heat wasn’t making anyone’s mood better, mines especially.
Training was so much worse than it was before, I constantly felt like passing out even after drinking water thrice or more. What’s worse was that the car’s air conditioner was busted up and needed to be fixed. There’s was no tools for me to fix and our only option was rolling the windows down which rolled more hot dusty air.
I felt like melting into the borrowed jeep’s leather seats. Leather fucking seats, who decided it was a good idea to place them in cars. The beads of sweat rolled down from my forehead.
“ Are we almost there Soap? “ I whined squinting my eyes from the heats blinding rays.
“ Yeah, yeah where almost there… just a couple more miles “ He replied eyes facing the road.
A couple more miles? Yeah, fuck that.
I can’t handle anymore more miles as there was no cold wind and we are wearing heavy gear. I tiredly looked over to Soap even though it was hot, he looked normal as if the heat hadn’t affected him.
I’m not sure why, but that angered me. Now, I’m angrier because I’m angry at something that I can’t have.
Soap must’ve noticed because he was now focused on me and not the road: his eyes would glance back and forth til he settled on me.
“ Are you- “.
“ Shut up “ I hissed.
He looked taken aback at my sudden attitude ( which shouldn’t be surprising ). I decided to unstick myself from the seats to readjust into something more comfortable.
“ Look I’m just worried about you “ Soap explained as he glanced over at him.
“ Instead of talking drive faster so we can get out of this shitty ass heat “ I complained trying to take off the gear. “ Jesus christ it feels like the devils ass in this shit ass car “.
I spewed endless vulgar complains till we arrived to base. I hopped out of the car and slammed it and stomped off to my room ignoring everyone on the way.
I threw every heavy useless shit that stuck to me like glue almost gave me a heat stroke.
“ Stupid military gear. Stupid, stupid with your stupid- “ I grumbled flopping onto my bed and kicked off the sheets.
I couldn’t even shower as it was too hot to even walk 10 feet away from my bed. The beads of sweat continuously rolled down my body and onto my poor mattress.
There was a faint knock on the door, “ Hey (Y/n), it’s me “.
I was too hot and tired to even respond and though I didn’t reply Soap knew he was allowed open the door. His eyes scanned around the messy quarters: blankets and pillows scattered along with tactical gear and small weaponry.
“ Jesus lass, you gotta clean your room it looks like a tornado blew through “ Soap observed as he moved the items aside.
He took a seat near the girl on her bed as she stomach side down star fished possession. He touched her soaked back from all of the sweat it collected. He recoiled his hand back and sighed shaking his head.
The bed shook slightly as he got up and stretched, “ I prepared a nice cool path for you to take, come on then doesn’t it sound nice? “.
There was no response even a muffled one from the ( probably and possibly dead ) girl. He looked down at her worriedly.
Was she dead or sleep from the heat?
He nudged her gently which resulted to her reignited burning anger.
“ What do you want? Your annoying me just by standing there and waking me up from this horrid hellish heat the satan decided to rip out “ The (h/c) caterwauled as she slowly flipped over angrily looking at the ceiling though it was meant for her captain.
He laughed at her which resulted to her pouting. Soap has found it cute unbeknownst to the sleepy girl.
“ I’m not to sure if you heard me (Y/n), but I prepared a cool bath for you since I am currently seeing intense amount of sweat you are producing “ Soap laughed at his own joke.
I replied with a grunt and slowly lifted my arms out towards him indicating I wanted to be carried. Soap oblige happily picking me up and taking me to the cold bath’s location.
We walked down a couple of halls and turned into his room where it was much cleaner than mines— a couple clothes here and there, but nonetheless cleaner than mines. I lazily get off of him as I stripped my sticky clothes away not caring if he stared as I felt the coolness of the tub calling out to me. I threw the clothes in the corner and hopped in.
My burning skin was now relieved from the heat and I felt myself sinking further down. Soap let out a small amused chuckle, it felt like heaven to my ears.
“ I feel so much better now thanks to you Cap “ I praised. Just before Soap could leave I called out to him.
“ Why don’t you join me “ I suggested looking at him. “ I’m pretty sure you’re hot in that gear that you’ve never taken off and that long sleeves you’ve decided to wear “.
John raises an amused brow, “ You sure you just don’t want to see me naked? “.
“ Why don’t you come and find out? “ I teased the corner of lips curled my eyes squinting slightly.
I looked away for a second to give John a chance to change— to which he does— and sat behind me groaning happily.
I leaned back as my back touched his chest. I looked over my shoulder smiling slyly, “ Doesn’t that feel good cap? “.
“ Feels better now you’re here with me pretty girl “ He smirks his arms snaked around my wisst.
I felt butterflies fluttering in my stomach, he just knew what to say to get my flustered and riled up.
He places a gently kiss onto my temple letting out a hummer melody.
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rhondafromhr · 4 months
Text
Chapter 3 of the nerds corruption au
Update: this is still consuming my life and I’m not even mad about it. I’m just straight up having a good time.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
“We’re Gonna Become the Bullies” - Chapter 3: Hold Me Closer Than Before
Peter can’t believe he’s actually doing this. He’s going to go confront Brad Callahan. Not only that, he has Max goddamn Jägerman psyching him up to do it. The same Max Jägerman that was beating him up for trying to talk to Steph not even a week ago. If Max still objected to it now, he probably would’ve said something about them holding hands, so it looks like they have his blessing. Pete’s really glad Steph joined them. It’s both endearing and kind of hot how fired up she is to defend him.
They finally track Brad down in the hallway and corner him. Max takes the lead, shoving him up against a locker and snarling, “Did I not make myself clear that Spankoffski is off-limits now? Who the fuck do you think you are that you get to talk to him like that? The order of things here at Hatchetfield High has changed and there’s nothing your weak ass can do about it, so you’re going to show him some goddamn respect from now on.”
“Oh, what, just because I called him one little name? He’s suddenly too cool for ‘Micro-Peter’ just ‘cause you said so?” Brad fires back.
“What are you, new here? Yes he fucking is, that’s how it works! Don’t forget, I’m your god,” Max says, staring him down with unbridled fury in his eyes “And now, so are these two. So we’re going to make sure the message gets through your thick skull this time. Steph, I believe you mentioned something you’ve always dreamed of doing.” Max restrains him while Stephanie raises her arm and backhands him hard, her other one still gripping Pete’s. How’s that for learning to multitask, Miss Tessburger? she thinks smugly. God, that was fucking cathartic.
Max turns his attention to Peter, Brad still in his grip. “Okay, Pete, you’re up! Throw a punch, show me what you’ve got!”
Peter reluctantly lets go of Stephanie’s hand and begins winding up his fist. He has no idea what he’s doing. The closest he’s ever gotten to a fight was that one time he tried to stand up to Max and that didn’t exactly work out in his favor. Or maybe it did? It was the catalyst for the Waylon place incident, which is the whole reason he’s in Max’s good graces. But, he realizes, if he wants to stay there, it would do him some good to impress Max and not throw a weak, half-assed punch right now. To motivate himself, he thinks back to the pantsing incident, growing angrier and angrier as he remembers how small and humiliated and helpless Brad made him feel. Suddenly, punching Brad square in the face as hard as he can stops being an obligation to hesitantly fulfill and becomes a long-overdue opportunity he absolutely relishes. As Pete’s fist slams into his face, Brad tries to play it off like it doesn’t hurt, but the pained groan he lets out is unmistakable. Holy cow, Pete realizes, he gave him a black eye!
“Good job! That was actually really good for a first try. I could feel the righteous fury just radiating off of you. Chills. I’ve got chills right now,” Max says encouragingly.
“Oh, um, thanks. That’s what I was going for,” Pete replies, a little dazed.
“You, too, Steph. The form on that slap? Absolutely impeccable. You might even be able to teach me a few things.”
“Well, I have been training for this. At this point I’ve probably done like ten thousand practice runs of this scenario in my head,” Stephanie deadpans.
“Well, team, this has been fun, but we’ve gotta get to class now, so this trash’ll just have to deposit itself into the nearest receptacle!” Max releases Brad, who books it to get away from them. Looks like their message sunk in.
Later that day, Peter sits in Calc and as hard as he tries to focus, his mind keeps wandering back to the incident with Brad. Even if he didn’t do it alone, he can’t believe he actually beat somebody up. He feels like he should feel at least a little bit guilty, but he doesn’t, and he feels a little guilty for that. Then again, why should he? When has Brad been anything but a complete asshole to him? Still, it kind of concerns him how good it felt to be the one in control for once. Before he can dwell on it too much, a stern, clear voice over the intercom interrupts his internal debate.
“Would Stephanie Lauter, Peter Spankoffski and Max Jägerman please report to the principal’s office immediately? I repeat, Stephanie Lauter, Peter Spankoffski and Max Jägerman to the principal’s office.” Well, there’s a sentence he never thought he’d hear. Even just “Peter Spankoffski to the principal’s office” would be unusual. He really should’ve been prepared for this, but the possibility didn’t even cross his mind. Somehow, it felt like being with Max would give him some sort of immunity. He packs his things and stands up to leave, hyper-aware of his classmates’ curious gazes burning into him.
When he arrives outside of Principal Blim’s office, Steph and Max are already there waiting for him. Stephanie slouches in the cheap, blue plastic chair and seems more bored than anything. Much to her father’s dismay, this is a pretty familiar scene for her. Max just looks confused and possibly a little nervous. Peter supposes that makes sense; there’s a good chance he’s never been here, either. Max has been doing stuff like this for years and hasn’t gotten in trouble once. The school cares way more about keeping their star quarterback on the field and beating Clivesdale than they do about bullying. Principal Blim cracks open the door and pokes his head out.
“Oh, good, you’re all here. Take a minute to collect yourselves if you need and come on in. Let’s start a dialogue,” he says.
Stephanie notices how tense the boys both look. She can’t help but crack a smile. It goes without saying that Pete is adorable, but the sight of literal monster Max Jägerman dropping his tough-guy persona and acting like a scared little kid about getting a scolding from their (honestly pretty chill and understanding) principal is pretty entertaining, too. She squeezes Pete’s hand and gives Max a little pat on his shoulder.
“It’ll be alright,” she whispers as they all head in. It seems to relax them a little bit.
Principal Blim’s office is surprisingly cramped. Or maybe it just feels that way due to almost every inch of wall being covered in cheesy motivational posters, many of which feature adorable cats in ridiculous situations. Peter thinks maybe it’s supposed to brighten up the room and make it feel less intimidating, but to be honest it’s having the opposite effect on him right now. What is it that Max always says about intent versus impact?
“Well, I assume you all know why I called you here today,” he says gently. Stephanie shakes her head and gives him the most puzzled look she can manage. Max and Pete follow her lead.
“You know, owning up to our mistakes is the first step towards doing better. But you don’t seem quite ready to do that, so I’ll spell it out for you. You’re here because the three of you attacked Brad Callahan this afternoon. Quite frankly, this is, as the kids say, ‘out of pocket’ for all three of you, but especially you, Mr. Spankoffski.” How is this in any way out of pocket for Max? Peter always assumed the school administration chose to look the other way on his behavior, but maybe they really are oblivious to it. “Now, I can’t let this slide without issuing some sort of punishment, but I’m willing to hear you out before I make any decisions. You’re all good kids, why did you lash out at Brad like that?”
“He was, um, he was picking on Hannah Foster again!” Stephanie exclaims “We all saw! He’s always making fun of her for stuff she can’t even help and he won’t stop no matter what we say to him! We had to do something, but we just felt so powerless. Believe me, we didn’t want to resort to violence but we just didn’t know what else to do.” Man, being able to cry on command would be awesome right now. Maybe Ruth knows some theater kids that can teach her.
“Yeah,” Peter adds “we couldn’t just stand by and let him pick on a defenseless freshman! Being a bystander is just as bad as bullying. You said so yourself at the anti-bullying assembly!”
“I did say that,” Principal Blim admits “And this isn't the first I’ve heard about Brad giving Hannah trouble. I can see where you’re coming from. Standing up to bullying is always admirable, although your execution was less than ideal. I’ll let you kids off with a warning for today, but if you see Brad bothering Hannah again please just come to me with your concerns instead of escalating things to the point of physical violence.”
“We will! Thanks, Principal Blim! Go Nighthawks!” says Max cheerfully.
“Mm-hmm. Go Nighthawks, fuck Clivesdale. Stay out of trouble, you three.” On that note, he ushers them out of his office.
Once they’re safely back in the hallway and out of earshot, Max holds one hand out to each of them for a fist bump, which they awkwardly return.
“Good thinking back there,” he tells them “you guys are so smart!”
“We learned it from watching you,” Pete points out “using anti-bullying rhetoric to perpetuate bullying is kind of your signature move. I hate to admit it, but it’s pretty clever. And it clearly works.”
“Yeah, it really came in clutch today. If my dad got a call from the school about this, he’d hold my phone hostage even longer. You’re kind of genius for coming up with it,” Stephanie adds.
Max sniffles. “Thanks. That’s, like, the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“Wow,” says Stephanie, feeling a sense of déjà vu “that’s really sad.”
“I guess it is.” Max chuckles. “It’s just, I don’t feel smart most of the time. I have horrible grades in most of my classes, even remedial algebra. My dad’s always on my ass about it, too. Says I’m lucky I can throw a football because I don’t even have two brain cells to rub together.”
“Well, what the fuck does he know, anyway?” Stephanie spits, suddenly furious at this man she’s never met. This hits way too close to home for her. “Grades aren’t everything. Look at me, my grades are abysmal, but read my takes on Twitter sometime. Some say I’m the voice of a generation.” She hopes her encouragement makes him feel a little better, at least, but she knows all too well that it’s not enough to heal years of having a shitty dad who loathes your existence and devalues you at every opportunity. She thinks of the striking parallel to her own father’s favorite jab: “I want to have an intelligent conversation with you. In other words, shut up.”
“I concur,” says Pete “Ruth and Richie both have really good grades and they’re absolute disasters sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, I love ‘em both, but it’s true. Even they’d probably agree with me. Ruth’s an anomaly, I’ll never understand how somebody who regularly blows off homework to write erotic Star Wars fanfiction keeps her GPA so- You know what, I’m getting a little off-topic, but the point is you’re smarter than you think you are, Max.”
A lump forms in Max’s throat and his eyes water. “Thanks, guys. That, uh, that means a lot.” He pulls them into a group hug more gently than either of them would have thought possible for him. They hug him back tightly and after a solid thirty seconds they reluctantly let go. Honestly, all three of them could stand to be hugged more.
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thepineconelord · 4 months
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I need you to know that I'm spending so much time on my list and now I'm UNO REVERSING IT!!! What if you told me all about your top ten favorite cats characters 🥺🥺🥺
ok bestie i took a hot minute with this one but, uh, there's no reason why
ANYWAY
1.Mistoffelees
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this should surprise no one. hes my magical little guy. so charming and fun and he gets a cool song and dance. he's never been played by a straight person he's winning
2.Munkustrap
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someday if im lucky ill be just like him. hes such a solid and comforting presence on stage and he gets all the best character interactions.
3.Demeter
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she's just,, like,, idk she grows on you. she's so important but so unseen, she's yellow! i really don't know what it is, but I couldn't put anyone else in the top 3 ok. I love her choreography and the way she's so contrary and captivating.
4. Skimbleshanks
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he was my og fav when I watched for the first time and I'm always happy to see him :))). i love his song and his little vest and the way he moves, as it's a little different compared to the rest of the cats. also i love trains
5. Macavity
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tbh this one really just comes down to the musical-esq silliness of him. like hes so glittery and everyone yells his name when he shows up, and he does little ballet twirls, but also he's so so evil. also obsessed with productions where he beats munkustrap's ass lmao
6. John Partrid--- I mean uh The Rum Tum Tugger (or rocky tam tam if ur french)
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look, just, that's a man. an attractive man in tight black clothing who just moves his hips like crazy. but also hes like a pillar of the community and hes so goofy and fhueujfhsjkdafhajks. Never have I known a character that could steal Hua Cheng's line about sincerity and have it fit so well. tbh I could probably put him higher on my list, just due to the sheer amount of thoughts I have about him, but I'm not a basic bitch.
7. Tantomile
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love the idea that a cat is psychic, love her makeup and choreography. I always watch how she interacts with other characters, and her presence on stage is always so good
8. Coricopat
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they can't be separated. anyway i like him for many of the same reasons I like Tantomile, but he's lower on the list bcuz idk vibes ig? I just love the both of them as an element to the tribe ya know?
9. Bombalurina !
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obsessed with her complex portrayal of female sexuality, she's always got such a good voice, her relationships with other characters is fucking fantastic. the only reason she's not higher on this list is bcuz i don't personally relate to her that much, but she's just such a good character ;-;
10. Jemima
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i just love her ok. I love the way she fits into the community and how her few moments in the spotlight hold such significance. i love the moments she gets with victoria, and i just think shes neat. a very good manifestation of the expression "from the mouths of babes"
bonus: 11. victoria (im not explaining or putting a picture you just gotta know ok)
also this list probably changes daily, i love the whole cast of characters so much
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stitchwraith-stingers · 2 months
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long ass rant about AI under cut that i made in like half an hour because i am so fucking pissed
i hate AI so fucking much i cant handle it i hate how my sister introduced it to mom and dad and now they use chatgpt and dont even consider how it might be wrong at all, they write it in my notebook that i use to give to the teacher and i hate it so much 'oh but you never look at it' and i never wanna hear anything about it ever again, no more of it, i dont care it should only be used as a TOOL to give you guidence, my sister was about to ask chatgpt for what to do for PYTHON when she could have asked "sorry buddy i cant understand python code"
ai does more damange and im so mad, i dont care if you use it for memes you are adding more fuel to the fire, the text can replace any writer for news outlets, reporters and the such, people generating art dont understand the struggles someone might have faced through the years to get where they are right now and only see it was a way to generate content
when i say 'ai will never be good as real people' im not saying how it will never be unidentifiable, there will be a time where you cannot tell if something is real or fake, when i say it i mean it that you wont ever replicate the way the person stood there, the photographer that managed to get as close as they could to the animal to snap a clip of it, the actors who have spent years practicing to get where they art, the young artist who started off small and is now handling how to draw their fave characters, the expirienced artist trying to get through work by being paid nothing from animators to manga artists, the writer who managed to finally write their own autobiograpthy from their own expirience, the fanfic writer who finally managed to get the story they wanted onto ao3 after months of writing, the painter who stood there for hours sitting in one place in nature just so they can repilcate it, the camara man who had to shoot a 1 minute clip for a film that probably took days to find the right shots, the person who writes articles trying to get the most information they could, the person who sat in a discord call with their friends to mimic some characters in a funny situation, the voice actor who trained their vocal cords to try to give the most emtion they could in a character, the 3d moddler who spent a very long time getting a hold of blender, the animator who spent 6 months on a 1 minute clip, etc
its all just soulless, yeah its pretty cool but you gotta stop and think "how will this effect the information we will get?" my mom has already fallen for a AI picture of a kid with alot of cats and sent me it, pinterest is full of them, my sister ONLY uses it and never does research on her own collage work and shes 1 year away from fully graduating, not once have i seen her put it down for a second to look up something to copy and paste all they do is scrape the work off others, they dont tell us where they got that data off, every ai image youve seen has been ripped off from an actual picture taken, from a drawing someone took to draw, someones selfie
not to mention, considering yesterday as of writing this it has been announced, what is the purpose of being able to generate an animation? i can see nothing good of it "but i can use it to get a good stockphoto" it doesnt matter, go find something thats the closest, the problem with these AI videos is that in one year it has changed so drastically, where do they get the data off this? how did they train it so fast in one year? were living in a distopian age, the age of the internet where it was the place where you can get allll your information quickly is becoming the past, ive seen countless articles who are obviously AI generated, ive heard people say that theyve seen ai generated images in scientific books, those are very important to get an understanding of how the thing theyre talking about works, why would you ever want to cut corners on something as important as that
"but i cant draw / do photography / find a good stockvideo" then LEARN!
1. drawing is for everyone and even after drawing since kindergarden i still consider myself a beginner artist, i dont know alot about anatomy, i dont know how to draw scenery, but thats ok because i can learn! i can get inspired by other artists to try and get better, ive had some rocky relationships with my art even now but thats also the beauty of it, even when you feel like you cant do it in afew years you can finally learn to!, ive seen many disabled people post about how they learnt to draw using a tecique they made themselves, you can go and think 'how do i make this more enjoyable for myself, how do i make this easier for myself?", same should go for writing
2. YOU CAN HIRE SOMEONE!!!! it may take awhile because of it taking time but it would make the persons day, and the way the economy is going its not working well
remember saga-afta? the whole thing where actors striked because of how little they were being payed for? and in the end the actor studio said "oh ok i guess BUT we will scan your body to use you even after you quit xD sorryyyy", alot of jobs are going to dissapear only because of the greed companies have, its the reason i fear having a job, not even artists like im mostly talking about, writers (script, normal writers, journalists, etc), photograpthers, and other jobs are going to dissapear not to mention not only misinformation the mentioned AI videos are just a bad idea all around what if someone fabricates evidence against you and uses it in court? well its certainly you theres no way it could be faked, what about propaganda? ive seen them make fake gameplay footage so ads are going to be unbearable
JUST TO BE CLEAR: im not against AI being used as a tool (ive seen a really good malwere horror video based off someones dream using photos from a game, getting an idea of how a paper should start and using it as an guide of where to go, etc) or actually being used to stop some other jobs people shouldnt have, but creativity is going down the drain, AI bros who use it for art and photos think about how pretty it should be, AI writers only use it because they couldnt be bothered, and probably other excamples i cant think of
i know AI will never truely dissapear, its not going anywhere and thats the reality, its not like nfts where they lot their value and everyone stopped caring, what should be reality is that there should be regulations, its going to be long enough untill someone uses it for more malicious stuff, yeah right now its people just spreading misinformation and ai generated articles but there is 100% going to be a time where someone is going to use it for revenge porn or to harrass someone with fake clips of them
pro ai as in ai that can detect cancer cells, anti ai as in videos, writing, etc
artists will never dissapear, photograpthers will never dissapear, writers will never dissapear, actors will never dissapear, voice acors will never dissapear it will only die if we dont give our voices, and theres more good then bad in AI
it needs to be regulated heavily
ill be sad that kids my age wont try to frankenstien a project using 5 different scorces and copy and pasting, theyll just grab the full text and wont care if its right or wrong, i will be sad for the kids who cant find a roleplay buddy and will just use chat ai to roleplay (which scrapes off others writing), etc
ai in the way im speaking about it is going to be terrible for alot of people with passions who cant get jobs because theyll be seen as replacable, the way people are going to exploit it for misinformation which goes from propaganda, revenge porn, other
"but it hasnt happened yet to people who generated text to video! it should be harmless" dont underestemate it, its going to happen eventually
i am just so tired of hearing about ai, i dont want any of it, i dont care, the way it is nowadays i am very against it, i am aware the hype is going to die down in afew years but right ow its so unbreable to me and i dread the day i get a job and they stop me and go "sorry buddy, you cant, we got computers to replace you", is there anything else i can say after this? fuck AI fuck the guy who made it more popular, i dont care how much you wanna make a meme or something you are feeding into it, stop using it untill there are proper regulations to stop it from spreading like wildfire, sooner or later someones going to use it for much worse
(sorry if its written weridly i didnt spell check i just needed to get this out)
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hiiiiiiiiiii :) do u have any soft lalo HCs? like do u think he ever says i love you? does he even believe in romantic love?? would he cry in front of u or let you help him with wounds or when he's too fucked up to function?? this man is so hard but like ugh baby boy...
(ps i've said this before but god i can't get enough of ur work ur massive brain kills me)
HIIIII im so glad you like my stuff!!!! i got some lalito thoughts for u but they're kinda sad 🥺 hope u like it
the elusive sfw post on SSM 😳 limited release imma sell this as an NFT
warning: homophobia, violence/blood, intoxication
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does he say "i love you"?: yes
does he believe in romantic love?: absolutely
would he ever cry in front of you?: no! :) not a chance in hell. you would have to be mortally wounded for him to let a single teardrop out and even then he wouldn't want you to see it.
^ the reason for that is what we call trauma 😌 tío hector fucked his brain up immensely.
lalo is gay. im not even remotely sorry but look at him. he has no interest in women and he never did. that was probably a real blow to hector's ego. he was raising lalo (and the other cousins later on) to take over the business, to be strong, to be a man. and in his eyes, lalo's sexuality was a weakness, a weakness that had to be beaten.
and in the spirit of helping him beat his weakness, lalo probably got the shit beat out of him throughout his childhood anytime he did something fruity. it was to show him what strength is, what he was supposed to be.
obviously, his sexual orientation wasn't changing. you cannot beat the gay out of someone. but he changed in other ways.
if his sexuality was a flaw, a weakness, then he would have to compensate for it. he could not show weakness in any other aspect of his life. ever. he could not let anything hurt him. he trained himself not to cry. if someone called him a faggot, he'd say "damn right!" and laugh it off. anytime he felt fear or sadness, he'd mold it into anger instead.
i'd imagine that he spent most of his adolescence/young adulthood trying to prove he could be strong in spite of his orientation. and in the salamanca family, strong means ruthless, brutal. there was probably some incident where he proved himself to be just as vicious as anyone else, and that earned him his uncle's respect. he still wasn't thrilled that his nephew was gay, but he didn't resent him for it anymore. he accepted that was just how he was.
as lalo grew up, he grew more comfortable being soft in certain aspects. he would still never cry, but he let himself enjoy moments of vulnerability.
i think his love language would be acts of service. cooking for you, giving you gifts, little things he can do to show you how much he cares. he tends to be more of a giver, but he likes to get spoiled on occasion :3 he may be a brat about it first tho
him getting too fucked up to function? anon your MIND. mans hits the tequila too hard at a party and you have to be the one to take him home. he swears up and down that he's fine, but he can't even walk straight. lalo gimme your keys i'm driving you back.
he blows a raspberry at you and whines "whaaaaat?! nooo, you don't... you don't gotta do that for me. i can drive just fine." he fishes his keys out of his pocket and immediately drops them on the ground.
alright that's it get in the damn passenger seat you dummy. he's too sauced to buckle himself in so you have to do it for him. when you lean over him he pulls you in for a kiss and giggles to himself.
tending to his wounds. anon your big juicy throbbing pulsating MIND. definitely a case where he's forced to show some weakness. lil homie gay ass comes home with a gunshot wound in his arm and he's like "oh this? yeah, work today got a little heated. i'm okay, though. :)"
lalo there is a hole in your arm. you are not fine.
"no really, i am! see?" mans holds up the BULLET HE FISHED OUT OF HIS ARM AND SHOWS IT TO YOU 💀💀💀 "i got it out! :D"
okay, cool. there is still a hole in your arm. please let me stitch it up.
you take him into the bathroom and have him sit on the edge of the bathtub while you stitch him up. you weren't an expert, but the fifth or sixth time he tried to sleep off a stab wound had given you some decent practice.
he winces and sharply inhales when the needle goes in, but he's quick to cover his tracks with a joke. "carajo (damn), do you have to pull so hard? just shoot me again, why don't you!"
yes lalo i do there is a gaping fucking hole in your body let me fix it you freak
"okay, okay, do what you gotta. you're so good to me, baby. gonna fix me up and make me look nice and pretty, eh?"
in conclusion! this man needs so much therapy 🖤
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