#i just realised that i didn't show you guys the cape i made over my break yet

[umilily]

[quitealotofsodapop]

Just thinking of Peaches canon hyperfixation of plans and medicine and just... going into a rant whne he visits DBK's place the first time over some rare plant Redaon had cultivated and DBK jsut... standing in the background with a soft smile on his face as he sees his xiandi happy to talk about medicine and plants again and reminiscing on the times he'd talk his ear off when they were kids about the medical properties of various ingredients in the teas they'd make

Oh gosh this idea was cute I had to write out some dialogue for it;

referencing this post I made about catnip/cat plants with lmk characters;

DBK: "I wonder why Brother Azure acted so oddly when i sat next to him at dinner. He didn't drink that much." Wukong, sniffing: "Oh easy! You use Mao Bo He to keep away the flies right?" DBK: "Yes? It's one of few herbs that works for me." Wukong: "Mao Bo He causes mild intoxication and feelings of elation in cats! Lions are just big cats after all." DBK, surprised/amused: "So Brother Azure was drunk off my insect repellent?" Wukong, getting excited: "Yes! In a way! There's some other plants that cause a similar effect but it's different for every individual- oh... sorry." DBK: "For what?" Wukong, nervous: "I've been told I... get too excited when discussing herbs and treatments like that," DBK, smiling: "I have no issue in hearing you describe them. You clearly hold much joy for the subject." Wukong: "You don't think I'm annoying?" DBK: "Not at all. If I had, I would have said so. My ancestor was a herbalist himself after all. Now, tell me xiandi, what can I use to keep the flies away that won't make our proud Brother Azure turn into a kitten at the mere scent of me?" Wukong: (*tail wags happily as he charges up the infodump*)

Later in the Peach Soup au as Peaches is receiving training from DBK.

Peaches: "Oh! Thats a Zhi Zi!" DBK: "Hmm?" Peaches, pointing to a flower in the courtyard: "Gardeniae jasminoides. Sometimes its called a gardenia or a cape jasmine. It shows up in some of my books." DBK, knowing smile: "Really? Red Son collected some plants during his time learning under Guanyin. I had always assumed it to be a regular jasmine plant." Peaches: "That's ok! They look really alike and smell nearly the same! One way to tell them apart is to check the leaves. Smooth leaves mean Jasmine, Toothed leaves mean Gardenia!" DBK: (*fond chuckle!*) Peaches: "Oh sorry! Was I rambling? I apologise if I got a little carried away." DBK: "Not at all! Where did you come across such knowledge by the way?" Peaches, little bashful: "My uncle Sandy introduced me to different tea blends when I was younger, and from there I wanted to know more about plants and herbs and how they help people. I was actually hoping to become a doctor or a pharmacist before all of this... monkey business happened." DBK: "It's never too late to return to your passion. You always wanted to heal people, xiandi. Even back then." Peaches: (*shy smile as he realises what DBK means*)

It leads to a rare moment where Peaches discovers something positive he shares with "old him". Who knew Sun Wukong was a nerd back then too?

DBK is elated to see this side of his little brother live on - Wukong had put aside many dreams due to the War, and herbalism was sadly one of them. Wukong did continue to pursue medicinal knowledge after the fact, but his duty as a king and near-god had kept him anchored.

Peaches has lived 18 years with no such anchor. DBK is excited and cautious to see what path he chooses.

I love these guys so much

[pinievsev]

Can you please make a xikers hunter x reader

Small Moments like these

Hunter X GN!reader

I have two requests for Hunter and none of them are specific so I tried my best with this! Hope you enjoy! As always! Requests are open and you can find my masterlist pinned on my blog! <3!

Pairing: idol!golden retriever!Hunter X Black cat-ish!sick!GN!reader

Warnings: reader has a cold? And might come out a little short. Overall just pure fluff

Summary: hunter comes to your house excited to show you his group's new song, but you're not exactly in great shape.

Taglist: @laskyy @cam-phoria-stay (if you want to be added interact here or shoot me an ask)

Your parents where out of town for business and you had the house to yourself for a week or so.

You were huddled up in a heavy blanket on your couch, a bunch of tissues all over your coffee table and a, now cold, cup of tea sat forgotten on the corner of said table as a random show you had stopped paying attention to a while ago played on your TV.

You were sick. You hated being sick. Scratchy throat, watery eyes and runny nose. It's all so annoying. You felt utterly exhausted every second that passed and in your mind, it made you vulnerable, which you hated being as much as you hated being sick.

You groaned at the sound of your doorbell ringing (pun intended) and got up, dragging your blanket with you like a cape. As you opened the door you were met by the overly excited voice of your boyfriend, Hunter, which you normally loved. He was always optimistic enough for the both of you.

But right now, loud sounds were the last thing you needed. "Pleaseeee be quiet" you said under your breath, your throat hurting with each syllable you dared to utter. He quickly did as you asked, walking Into your house when you stepped aside and closing the door gently behind him.

"what's wrong, jagi?" He sounded concerned, which made you feel all fuzzy inside. "I'm sick." You mumbled, coughing as you finished speaking. He looked around, taking in the current state of your living room. "And you didn't call me?" He asked, giving you puppy eyes.

You walked back to your couch and sat cross legged with him following suit and sitting down next to you. "I didn't want to disturb you. You've been busy with all the idol stuff lately so I thought I should let you rest on your time off?" You said with coughs and sneezes in between every couple of words.

He clicked his tongue and gently smacked the side of your head, which you barely felt. "And you think, there's any other way I'd like to spend my time off but with you? Hm?" He asked matter of factly. "Right, but I'm sick and I don't won't you catching a cold as well." You mumbled.

"jagiyaaa~" he whined sitting closer to you. "I could care less about a stupid cold. I want to make sure you're okay!" He placed an arm over your shoulder and brought you against him, you immediately relaxed in response and leaned your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes as you sniffled.

He kissed your forehead and layed down on his back shifting so you were laying on his chest and the blanket was now comfortably over both of you. "How about this, you get some sleep and when you're all charged up, well get some food" you groaned and looked up "can't sleep. Not tired" you said trying to speak as little as possible.

You both sat up again, you still clinging to him. "Then... Do you want to listen to my group's new song..? I'll keep the volume down" you perked up at that.

"you guys have.. a new song?" You had completely forgotten, oh my god how could you forget. "Yeah it just realised a couple of minutes ago. I ran here as soon as I saw it!" He said happily, pulling out his phone.

"oh right! Sorry, I forgot about that" he shook his head and placed a hand behind your own to pull you back to him. Your forehead resting on his shoulder while he looked for the song.

Just as he promised he played the song quietly and started humming along. You wrapped your arms tighter around him and did the same. You've never been one for hug and kisses and all that sappy stuff. But with Him, it was different. You didn't feel the need to fake being happy and you could always tell him if anything bothered you.

And he had promised to always do the same.

You leaned up and pecked his cheek making him smile. "You like it?" He asked you hopefully. You reached over and turned the volume slightly higher. "I love it."

You smiled at him then sneezed, shaking your head lightly. A small habit you have had since you were a child. He chuckled at you and ruffled your hair.

To you, it was small moments like these when you didn't have to act all happy, because you were. In the comfort of your boyfriend, your very sweet, gentle giant of a boyfriend you wouldn't trade for the world.

[sankta-starkova]

LETTERMAN

027; the transformation

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

summary: the one where ej and andy realise that there may be some romantic feelings between them that hadn't been there before, or had they? the new year test this revelation

wordcount: 1.4k

THEY ALL STOOD IN REHEARSALS, Andy talking to EJ and Gina before Miss Jenn called everyone's attention to her.

"Lets try the Beast transformation one last time," she suggested, "And remember, this is the triumph of the show, this has to work,"

"Ricky, try not to rush this time," she said and Ricky nodded, "Lets take it from 'you came back'"

They all set up the scene, everyone scuttling backstage as they watched the emotional scene.

As 'the beast' died, Ricky ripped off the mask with a struggle, throwing it at Natalie Bagley and knocking her over.

The issue wasn't just his inability to throw but it was also his issues with the emotions of it.

"Cut!" Miss Jenn yelled out and she started to freak out, "I will be in my office,"

Carlos walked up, "We're on a long five until Miss Jenn returns," he said before rushing off after her.

"That didn't go well," Andy said, EJ nodding his head as they watched the scene.

After school finished, the entire group stood in Slices after being called in by Carlos.

They all knew something was wrong and this was their way to fix it and save their play.

"Mother is freaking out, its about the Menkies," Carlos said, "We can't win,"

Everyone exclaimed in confusion, not understanding how they couldn't wind the Menkies.

"Theres math involved, if we don't win the technical achievement award we don't have a chance," he said, "We need to rally behind Miss Jenn,"

Kourtney walked over, knowing what was going on as she casually poured them drinks.

"I'm a designer, Big Red a tool guy, between the two of us we have the answer," Korutney explained.

"Quit school, get a job at the pizza shop?" Seb asked, a glum expression on his face.

"No, we should invent something amazing that we can run at tech rehearsal tomorrow," Kourtney said and everyone raued behind the idea.

"Ash, you have the biggest house, what if I invite myself and some of the girls after school to continue the collab?" Nini suggested.

"I mean square footage wise, my house is slightly larger-" EJ started but Andy elbowed him, making him retract his statement.

They made the decision of the guys going to Big Reds basement and the girls going down to Ashlyns house.

Afterwards, all the girls - plus Seb - met at Ashlyns house as they discussed ideas.

"Ooh, you know those sequined tops where if you rub them one way they're purple, the other way they're red, we could do that with the Beast cape," Kourtney suggested.

"And the boys could build something that spins the Beast around to disguise the transformation," Andy added, the girls agreeing with both ideas.

"That will take a while, but I guess I could sleep over tonight," Gina said, the girls laughing at her sarcasm.

"I don't know if my parents will be cool with a co-ed sleepover," Seb said, looking around at them.

He went and called his mother about it and she came back saying it was fine. Andy also text her mum and she was fine with it.

Ashlyn then text the boys about the idea and they agreed that they'd do it,  but Big Red had to sacrifice his skate boards.

"This is gonna be so good, Carlos could wear it," Kourtney said with a chuckle as she measured the fur on Seb.

"Does he just walk around in Armani sweatpants?" Ashlyn asked jokingly and Seb nodded his head unenthusiastically.

It all went silent, Andy and the rest of the girls had noticed the tension between the couple.

It had been like that since spring break and a little bit before that. They all thought the couple were happy so this was a shock.

"Seb, is something going on with you guys?" Nini asked, all the girls turning to focus on him as they wanted to make sure their friend was okay.

"I guess but he met a group of extremely photogenic guys during Spring Break and he seems pretty happy," Seb explained.

"You want to see him happy, and he's always happy with you," Ashlyn said, trying to comfort him.

"But I guess he has to be out of default, right," Seb said and they realised that this was because of the limited gay boys at the school.

"Have you told him how you feel? Its always good to put yourselves out there," Andy suggested.

"Like you and EJ, I swear I saw you two holding hands and giggling at the pizza place," Nini said and Andy blushed.

"Yes, you two are the cutest thing. You guys should have seen them all spring break all cuddled up and gross," Ashlyn said, Andy going an even deeper shade of red.

"Yeah, we all saw it coming," Kourtney added.

"Really, was it that obvious that we liked each other?" Andy questioned, not realising it.

"Kinda, you two have always been mushy but it was super cutesy lately, and then that Instagram post of you two holding hands was just insane," Kourtney said with a smile.

"I didn't realise you two were dating until I saw you making out at North High so not really, but I'm not good at signs," Gina said.

Ashlyn and Andy looked at each other, "The chocolates," they said at the same time, the girls all laughing about it.

"What are the chocolates?" Nini asked and everyone went silent as they realised she didn't know.

"Oh, uh, I thought Ricky sent me chocolates on valentines day, it was my mum," Gina explained.

Nina looked confused, "Why'd I never hear about this?" She questioned, all of them still silent.

There was an awkward tension in the room as Nini realised she wasn't as close to the girls as she thought.

"It wasn't a big deal," Gina said, the tension still there before they just tried to carry on with their work.

Over at Big Reds house, the boys worked on their rotating object whilst Carlos vented about not knowing why Seb was frustrated.

"Hes worried you're only dating him because hes the only other boy at school who watches Drag Race Canada," Big Red said, explaining he got a text from Ashlyn about it.

"Okay, wow, why wouldn't he just say something to me?" Carlos asked, sitting down as the boys had a heart to heart.

"People are complicated man, we don't have it together as much as we seem - except EJ here," Ricky explained.

"What, what are you talking about?" He questioned, not knowing what they meant.

"Well, you and Andy, you're like a perfect little couple," Ricky stated, EJ looking at him confused.

"It's not as perfect as it seems," EJ stated, he hadn't even told Andy this but he had his doubts.

It wasn't about her, it was about himself. He worried that he would ruin everything between them by being himself

"Really Pretty Boy, is it just because you're graduating this year?" Ricky asked.

"Its because of Nini actually," EJ said and everyone went silent, "I don't have feelings for her but the only time I was proud of my relationship was when I let her go,"

"But does that mean you're worried you're going to let the next girl go as well?" Carlos asked, knowing how perfect of a couple Andy and EJ were.

"I just don't want to let her go, like ever," EJ said, running a hand through her hair, "I just love Andy so much it hurts to imagine leaving her,"

The boys all froze, EJs eyes going wide as he realised he admitted that he loved Andy.

At that exact moment, they got a call from the girls and Seb telling them to meet at the school because they got the original Broadway plans from Howie.

When everyone got there, Andy smiled at EJ, looking at him confused as he gave her a half hearted smile back.

They all crowded around the plans, "Wait, so in the Broadway show, all they did was suspend the Beast in the air and then he takes his mask off?" Gina asked skeptically.

"But combine this from the wire from Get'cha Head in the Game and we're golden," Ashlyn said and they all set it up.

They re-enacted the scene with Ricky in the harness and as he died they lifted him up so he was suspended in the air.

Everyone applauded as they watched him up in the air before the rope snapped and Ricky fell.

Let's just say that he fell on Ashlyn and the two of them ended up with a nice trip to the emergency room.

Taglist:

@maggiecc @hesfasttandshesweird

[finniganmcginnigan]

Barber's chair

Horror Short Story CW: bodily liquids, disturbing imagery.

Barber's chair

I’m always excited to get my hair cut. Something so strange and so small yet makes such a big impact on your confidence and appearance. I just sat into the slightly used leathery barber's chair feet resting on the foot stool that stays attached to the spinning chair. It’s so fun playing with them when your barber leaves for a moment, I remember as a kid I’d spin all the time till I felt dizzy. This time, not three moments after I sit down, a broad-shouldered mountain of a man walks behind me. Not necessarily tall. But sitting down beside him, he sure seems like he could crush anyone with his bare hands. He turns towards my seat, his aura sending vibrant chills of every colour and shade down my spine. He leans to open his small floating desk of tools, razors, beard balm, and styling spray. The glance at his back gives me a sense of calm. He has no tattoos or facial piercings but a lovely well-presented beard and slightly long hair that passes no further than his mouth, put up into a styled bun. From one glance, you see that he cares for his craft and shows it with himself. My hair is still damp from the wash another hairdresser gave me about seven minutes ago. I still have yet to see his face as a whole. The silence is thick, only broken by my forceful acknowledgement of the other people near me chatting about their day. Nothing I can make out. The words hit my ears as a mash of sentences and sounds. My lips start to open, feeling the chapped top lip clinging to the lower lip until the two sides let loose with more force. I begin a sentence hoping to break the tension, just a casual introduction and a "How are you doing." Before the air could leave my windpipe, he points to the mirror without saying a word. I glance over, seeing my own reflection. The reflection appeared normal. I noticed while attempting to peek at what was behind me, a note. One the size of a pinky. "Quiet zone", the message read to me. I decided to not say a word. I didn't understand why or how I never was told about this "Quiet zone," but I didn't care to intrude and disrupt. Probably sensitive to noise, I make myself believe. The barber picks up his tools, his left hand holding clippers and the right a comb. Luckily I was only coming for a trim as I wanted to grow my hair out after shaving my head last summer. He stands behind me. His presence takes up nearly the entire body-length mirror. Not literally. While he was a big guy. He certainly couldn't take up that much space. His presence there made it near impossible to focus on the surroundings. I forgot to mention the backward cape as my friend liked to refer to, it was already strung around me to allow the hair to slide right off. The barber gently taps me as if to warn me that he is starting. The buzzer turned on ever so quietly as he dug it into my hair. He was gentle. His muscled hands lay firmly around my hair. If I were asleep, I would have mistaken it for a cat's tail. A couple minutes in, I'm a little bored. The silence irritates a little, and it was clear my legs and fingers became restless. Finding anything entertaining to occupy me, I looked through the large reflection only to be greeted by the barber's face. Nothing odd. At first. His eyes were covered. Not by a hat or glasses or anything like it but by the way he is tilting his head down to cut my hair. His beard covered his mouth and most of his cheeks. It was a brilliant black beard. Ink black like the sky on a clear night. No stars, obviously just a clear dark sky. I'm curious as to what he looks like but refrain from moving my head so as to not disrupt his workflow. He looked invested, caring for every hair like a piece of modern art. On his way to get a spray bottle, he  nudged the chair slightly to the right, and it was only then did I realise the noise of the clients stopped. PART ONE OF TWO -Finn

[imerdwarf]

Sworn To Secrecy

Requested by @imagine-all-the-fandoms: Hey colleague ❤️ I really love your writing! So I also thought to send you an idea 😊 The reader is Bucky’s girlfriend but just a normal civilian and he keeps it a secret at the compound. One day she visits him but crosses the other Avengers and Sam is immediately flirting with you but Bucky just comes, swoops you in his arms and kisses you. The others are shocked and confused and later that day they finally tell them they’ve been together for a while now and they are all happy for you two? 😊

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Civilian!Reader (Modern AU)

Warnings: Absolutely none! Just a lot of fluff 🥰

Author's Notes: Thank you so much my dear friend for sending in this beautiful request, I hope you like it and please let me know if there's anything you want me to change! 💜

Your phone vibrated in the palm of your hand and your smile reached both corners of your eyes when you saw the name light up your screen.

Bucky: I can't wait to see you, how long until you get here?

Your fingers flew quickly over the touch sensitive keyboard to reply back, without any typos might I add.

Y/N: I'm five minutes away. Patience! ;)

The wind blew in your face as you tilted your head upwards and sighed. Your relationship with Bucky Barnes was absolutely not the easiest thing in the world. He had made you sworn to secrecy about it, to protect yourself and him from potential haters and enemies.

You were grateful that you were able to spend a lot of time together when he didn't have month-long missions to go on. The sunny afternoons were spent in your small apartment on the couch watching movies with a blanket draped over the two of you, often accompanied by a hot chocolate made from his secret recipe.

Everything about Bucky screamed safety; his big beefy frame, bulging biceps that he just knew you loved and deliberately bought small sizes to show them off, his thick thighs were a dream for you whenever you draped your legs over them to get comfortable. Nothing about him scared you, not even that matte black and gold Wakandan inspired arm of his. It did wonders when you were burning up with fevers.

You met Bucky by chance at a coffee shop in Brooklyn. It was a cliché moment when you accidentally turned around too quickly and spilled your hot drink over his white shirt. Endless apologies spilled from your lips while Bucky was too busy admiring your beautiful features that your words simply fell on deaf ears. To Bucky, it felt as though time had temporarily stopped ticking, and the only people in the coffee shop at that moment was you and him.

The two of you exchanged numbers with your promises of buying him a brand new shirt to replace the one you ruined. You texted each other every second of every day. The more you talked, the easier and the flirty-er the texts became.

A month after the coffee shop incident, you almost keeled over when he finally asked you to be his girlfriend. He regretted he couldn't take you on a date because of his status, and that never really bothered you.

You didn't date him because he was a popular avenger, with a staggering 100 million followers on his Instagram. For your protection, he couldn't follow you either, but that too didn't bother you. You dated him because you loved his personality and you loved him.

You zig-zagged past the oncoming pedestrians as the tower came into view. Outside of the gates there was already a crowd of people hoping to catch a glimpse of the avengers.

The security guard in the booth next to the gate was trying to reason with the crowd, sadly a building this well known attracted all kinds of attention and tourism. You were told that people from Australia would come to visit.

You approached the guard with a friendly smile. "Good afternoon sir," you greeted politely, pulling some I.D out from your purse.

"Good afternoon! Are you expected here today?" The guard smiled but looked over your shoulder to see the crowd was now taking pictures of the front of the tower. He shooed them away and brought his attention back to you.

"Yes, Sergeant James Barnes is expecting me." The way his name rolled off your tongue was like drops of honey. Smooth and sweet.

The guard checked the list of visitors expected today and hummed with a smile.

"So he is. So what you do is, go to the front desk with your visitor badge and they'll direct you to his floor."

With a quiet thanks and holding on tightly to the badge, you walk through the screeching iron gates. Your shoes crunch underneath the gravel and the wind howls through the trees that gives off extra privacy.

The lady at reception greets you warmly and you relax when you give her your name and show her your visitor badge as directed by the security guard.

"Take the elevator and go to floor 13. Sergeant Barnes is currently in a meeting but he won't be too long." Another thank you passes through your lips as you head off towards the glass and chrome elevator.

The ride up to the 13 floors was agonisingly slow. Classical music filled the emptiness of the elevator. The glass casing gave you a beautiful view overlooking the grounds of the compound. A rose garden of all different shades of roses up the far left of the green garden surrounded by cherry blossoms and hydrangeas. Benches scattered across the grounds that you hoped to one day have the pleasure of sitting on and watch the bumblebees.

This was another reason Bucky loved you so much, you were so passionate and kind against wildlife and nature.

Finally, after god knows how long you've been staring out into the garden daydreaming, the elevator doors ding open and you're greeted with a muscular blond God with a red Cape hung over his back and a creepy wide grin on his face. His scruffy hair made you think he hadn't washed it in a few days.

"I was expecting someone else, but hello!" His voice seemed to boom throughout the space of whatever room this actually was. Some kind of hallway, but you're pretty sure you would hear his voice from all the way from that beautiful garden.

"Uh hello!" You stuttered, taken by surprise that there would be other people here.

"I am Thor, the God of Thunder!" His arms went wide and so did his smile. Your mouth gaped open and closed when you recognised the name. Thor. God of thunder. Of course, you read about these gods and how he ruled Asgard. Or was set to.

"Thor! Of course," you chuckled nervously, stretching your hand out in front of you, "I'm Y/N."

"It's a pleasure to meet you! Please follow me and allow me to introduce you to my mortal friends," you chuckled at that line, and adjusted your sweater.

"Friends, mortals! We have a guest, this is Y/N, A human of Earth." Thor stepped aside and your eyes widened; you were only standing in the same room as the avengers, the same people Bucky spoke so highly of. Thor told you the names of the people in front of you, everyone was there and you wondered where the hell Bucky was.

Tony was the first one to step forward and looked you up and down by moving his tinted glasses to the bridge of his nose. You relaxed when he smiled, but only slightly. You realised they had not asked why some stranger was standing in their living room.

"You know who I am?" Tony asked smugly, his arms folded over his chest.

You nodded, your eyes flickered down his chest, his arc reactor lit up in a bright blue. You almost reached out to touch it but stopped yourself before you could.

"Uh yes. You're Tony I believe?" You blushed under their gazes. Bucky told you they were the best people, but to you they were very intimidating.

"Very good. What brings you to my tower?"

"I'm here to see—"

"Wow! Who is this?" A voice yelled out from behind you. A guy you recognised as Sam, or Falcon, or Birdbrain as Bucky liked to call him.

"Y/N!" Thor answered before you could, the rest of the avengers took a seat on the couch.

"Yeah, hi," a small laugh came out and it made your cheeks heat up when his eyes raked over your form.

"My, my. You are gorgeous!" He kept that grin on his lips as he stepped closer. His over-sprayed cologne was suffocating you. "Beautiful, just perfect, just—"

"Mine!" Bucky yelled from the doorway as he stormed past Sam to get to you. You bit your lip to hide the growing grin and failed, he swooped you up in his arms, your legs instantly wrapped around his waist as he spun the two of you around and kissed you.

Cat calls sounded from the couch and you smiled into the kiss. When you pulled away for air, the expressions on everyone's faces told you they needed and wanted an explanation.

You could only imagine the questions they wanted to ask; how did you know Bucky Barnes? How did a soldier and an assassin manage to keep a relationship so hidden under the eyes of a mind-reader and a super intelligent spy? How did Bucky not slip up to Steve about having a girlfriend? All valid questions of course.

Bucky lowered you back down on your feet and pressed his forehead against yours. Without giving the team an answer, he slipped his hand in yours and pulled you away, leaving the superheroes with confusion etched upon their faces.

Bucky gave you a thorough tour of the tower. He showed you the gym, the kitchen where he made you his favourite sandwich, he even showed you his room. It was painted in a light blue with white curtains and blinds, thick, soft cream carpet covered the floor and his bed was as soft as a cloud. It was a lot more comfortable than your bed, that's for sure.

Later that day, Tony ordered a takeout and invited everyone to the dining room to eat, including you. The way Bucky's hand was slung protectively around your shoulder didn't go amiss by anyone in the room. It was when he finally sat down did the questions start.

"Alright, what's the deal with you two? Is this a prank? Is he paying you darling?" Sam fired off first, pointing his fork at the two of you opposite him.

Bucky glared at him from calling you 'darling', from where you were sat you could hear the heavy breathing. Your hand slipped into your lap and into his, giving his thigh a firm squeeze to keep calm.

"Y/N is not being paid!" Bucky defended, outraged he could even think such a thing.

You cleared your throat and took a sip of water before speaking, "it's true and I understand it's a shock but Bucky is actually my boyfriend and has been for the past couple of months," you smiled, proud of the fact you were in a relationship with this man and it was no longer secret.

"How the hell did that happen?" Tony queried, waving his chopsticks in the air, flabbergasted by the whole situation.

"What, you think I'm not capable of meeting people?" Bucky challenged, not really enjoying the interrogation which was the whole reason he didn't want to say anything at the beginning.

"Well of course I wouldn't be surprised if it was Capsicle here but it's you," Tony snorted.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Bucky was yelling and turning red with anger when Nat sought the opportunity to take the heat off the two men.

"So, Y/N. Tell us about yourself."

Tags: @smokeybluebrooke-lyn @pinkdiamond1016

[philistiniphagottini]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write a small prompt of Vergil’s teenage daughter getting suspended from school?? Thanks!

Yo Anon. I had no idea if you wanted the reader to be Vergil’s daughter, but in the end, I just decided to go with that idea. I hope you like it. 

You stand out the front of your school, waiting for your Father to arrive and pick you up. You listen to music while you wait, the tunes blasting in your ears and drowning out every other noise as you tap your foot along to the beat. Usually, a student would have to wait in the front office until someone arrived to pick them up but, in your case, they made an exception.

No one wanted to deal with your Father. Not the Principal and certainly not the poor ladies who worked at the front desk. Every faculty member had had enough of your Father, especially after what happened at Career Day. The memories were still raw and fresh in everyone's mind and no one dared speak of that day ever again. You didn't mind waiting alone though. It meant that you wouldn't have to get another boring lecture from your teacher on "proper manners".

You smiled widely when you noticed your pick up had finally arrived. The DMC van skidded to a sudden and loud halt out the front of your school, Nico masterfully manoeuvring the vehicle between two parked cars with a single swerve. Smoke billowed out of the driver's side of the car and if you listened close enough, you could already hear Nero complaining that it stunk like ass. 

You took a single step towards the car and the side door suddenly slid open. Your Father stepped out, cape fluttering in the gentle breeze as he walked towards you. You approached with confidence, not a single ounce of hesitation as you walked towards him, the approaching storm known as Vergil.

You both stopped just a foot short of each other. Vergil's face was set in stone, not a single emotion crossing his visage. You took your earphones out, stuffing your hands back into your pockets as you flashed your Father a lazy smile.

"Yo Dad" you greeted.

You were awfully calm about the whole situation. You acted like you hadn't just got suspended from school. Vergil bowed his head in greeting.

"Daughter."

You went to slip by him, but he stopped you when he raised his arm. You halted, eyes flicking back up to his face. His face may not have been showing any emotions but his eyes were a different story. You could see the emotions swirling in the ice blue depths and for a split second, you forgot how to breathe when that icy stare was directed at you. 

"Care to explain the reason for your suspension?" 

A frown tugged at your lips. "I thought the Principal told you" you replied.

Vergil gave you a curt nod. "They did. But I'd like to hear it from you."

He wanted your side of the story and you realised he wasn't going to let you pass until you told him. So, you held your head high, steeling your resolve and looked your Father directly in the eye as you explained to him what happened.

"There was a guy sitting behind me that was playing with my hair. He pulled my hair and I told him that if he didn't stop, I'd punch him in the face. He laughed and kept pulling my hair. And now" you gestured around you, waving your hands in the air "here we are."

"Here we are" Vergil agreed. 

He opened his mouth to ask another question but you cut him off, already knowing what he was going to ask.

"No, I didn't use a Devil Arm and nor did I Trigger."

Even if you hadn't, having the blood of Sparda running through your veins meant you had a nasty punch. In fact, you were pretty sure you broke the kid's nose, a fact that the Principal no doubt mentioned over the phone while talking to your Father about the incident. 

You held your Father's unnerving stare. You knew he was trying to figure out if you were telling the whole truth. You were and Vergil was inclined to believe you. He always had one, ironclad rule. Never lie to him. If you were honest and told him the truth, he promised he would not get mad, as long as what you said was truthful. Since becoming a teenager, you highly respected that rule and never lied to him, even when you did some pretty reckless shit. But as promised, Vergil never got mad and he was always there to help you. In fact, he was taking this situation surprisingly well. You thought he'd have been just a little more pissed off that you physically assaulted someone, even if the attack was kind of provoked. 

"Did the boy apologise?" Vergil inquired.

"Nope" you chirped.

Vergil hummed in thought as he crossed his arms across his chest. His eyes flicked to the school building behind you. 

"Perhaps I should have another word with your Principal."

You rolled your eyes. "Come on Dad, not now. Can't it wait until my suspension is over?"

He grunted in response as you trotted up to him and started tugging on his arm. He reluctantly uncrossed his arms and let you drag him away from the school and towards the parked van where everyone else was waiting.

Nero had wound the window all the way down, waving his hand through the air to keep the smoke away from his face. His eyes flicked over to your approaching figure before he turned back to Nico.

"Hey, put that damn thing out before she gets in the van" he snapped.

Nico waved him off, blowing a lung full of smoke out the side of her window before stubbing the cigarette out in her ashtray. Nero turned his attention back to you as he stuck his head out the window, arm dangling as he rested his elbow on the door.

"Yo, squirt, I heard you got suspended" Nero teased with a smile on his face. 

You stopped just beside him as Vergil opened the side door. 

"What did you do?" Nero asked.

You grinned as you wriggled your eyebrows. "Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy."

Nero chuckled as he playfully rolled his eyes. "Haha, very funny meme lord" he stated dryly.

You squealed as he reached over and ruffled your hair fondly, your hands swatting his arm as you giggled. Nero flashed you a toothy smile.

"Hop in ya rascal."

Vergil stepped aside and allowed you to get into the van first. The smell of gunpowder and smoke was so strong in the back that you almost stumbled back. If it wasn’t for Vergil pushing you by the small of your back, you probably would have fallen back out of the van. Your mood brightened when you saw who was waiting in the van.

"Uncle Dante!"

The man in red smiled. "Hey trouble!"

You launched yourself at your Uncle, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. Dante grunted as he got the wind knocked out of him but he eagerly returned your affection as he wrapped you in a bear hug, squeezing your sides until they started to hurt. Vergil closed the door behind him as you peeled yourself off your Uncle, sliding into the seat beside him. 

"So, what did you do to get suspended?" Dante inquired.

"Punched a dude in the face" you replied as you strapped yourself in.

Nico whistled in the front seat.

"Nice going little chickadee" she commented.

Vergil shot her a cold glare.

"Don't encourage her" he hissed.

Nico shrugged the harsh glare off as she put the car in gear, ready to drive off. Nero reminded you to buckle up, commenting about Nico’s crazy driving and earning a swat to his arm by the offended party. Dante chuckled as he bumped his shoulder against yours.

"Hey, how about a strawberry sundae on me?"

You gasped. "Yes."

"No."

You pouted as you shot your Dad a glare. You still couldn't muster up anything cold enough to faze Vergil but it didn't stop you from trying.

"She's been suspended" Vergil reminded his twin. "It's not something to be celebrated."

Dante rolled his eyes. "Come on Verg, admit it. You're as proud as a kicked cat that your little girl won't take shit from nobody."

You shot your Dad a quizzical look but he refused to look in your direction as he held his brother's stare. You were jostled in your seat as Nico suddenly put her foot down on the accelerator and you sped off down the street like a bullet. Dante shot you a lazy smile. 

"Hey, now that you have some free time on your hands, I can finally teach you how to use a gun."

You smiled widely and jumped in your seat. You opened your mouth to respond but you were cut off by your Dad's icy cold words.

"Absolutely not."

Both you and Dante shot Vergil the same, sad look and it only caused him to sigh loudly. Just because he was okay with handling your suspension, didn't mean you could spend your free time learning how to use a gun. Perhaps if you were a normal family, things would be different. But you were far from normal.

"If you're going to learn, you'll learn the way of the sword."

You gasped and clapped your hands together, causing the corners of Vergil’s lips to tilt into a smirk.

"Best. Suspension. Ever."

[blushing-starker]

You've already made so many boards for me (or tagged me in ones I didn't explicitly ask for but then I realised I needed them.) But here're some - disconnected - thoughts/prompts/ideas to take or leave: Mafia Boss Peter; Winterironspider; canon-compliant Peter missing Tony after Endgame; Spiderstrange trying to keep their relationship a secret from Tony; and honestly sometimes I'm just down for a classic, any Spideychelle in your brilliant head?

Look at you, hitting me with drama, whump, romance and the funnies! Listen, I will continue making moodboards for you, Katie and one very non trashy @trashystarker . Apart from Raf, Laney, Bee and Mabel, you guys are the ones that interact the most no matter what the hell I post. (I appreciate all of you of course, but some people are there even when i hastily throw together some pics and textures into a melting pot.)

No, but truly, thanks dear. Mafia Peter is so good! But how do I make it angsty? Well, how about mafia boss Peter missing Tony after endgame and counting on Bucky, one half of his heart, to pull him through? They suffer as lovers and then Stephen comes along, tentatively because Tony had only sacrificed himself, had only worked out this plan after the doctor told him it was the singular strategy capable of pulling them through this. The spider and soldier don't blame him, can't even consider the possibility since its not his fault. Tony wouldn't have done what he did if the overall threat hadn't existed. His death lies with Thanos, not Stephen.

(Cue them falling in love, but anywayyyyyy)

Lets get to some happy aspects! Tony survives. So does Peter. Thanks to Strange. If the man's cloak hadn't yanked him away from Thanos' grip, Mr Stark would have mourned for him all over again. And yeah, technically the cape can't be controlled but uh, he needs an excuse to follow the sorcerer around for a few weeks, ok?

It's not Peter's fault the guy is witty and clever and cunning and a brilliant strategist and oh my god he can help him figure out why his wrists hurt and tell whether it's a fever or a cold and he's flying! Without the webs thanks to the cape! Look, Mr Strange! And can the universe stop dumping him into awkward situations with men so handsome? He has a hard time catching the drool from his mouth. Their intelligence is already a turn on, he can't handle all of this.

Strange finds it endearing, lips inching upwards into something resembling a smile. And the second he does that, the cape whirls around, nearly drops Peter into an experiment and begins clapping excitedly like Stark's daughter when he showed her some magic tricks. He needs to get rid of that cape.

(Mr Strange? Are you alright, you look a bit pale? Or it could be the light? Oh hey! Now you're red! That's good, right? Maybe you touched something weird. I don't see anything on your face, but it's the only area that could be affected since you wore the gloves for the experiment. Hold on, let me take a closer look. It's really dim in this closet. Why did the cape bring us here? Is it taking us to the antidote? Mr Strange, you're getting really red now.

Peter, I highly doubt you need to be this close, I'm fine. I'll be fine once we get out of this infernal-

Was that the door closing? On a room labelled, magic properties weakened inside?

... Yes, that was the door.

Guess we're gonna have to be close now, huh?

Remind me to A) never help Stark with a project again, no matter whether the world hangs in the balance and to B) rip that cloak apart.

You can't do that! Doctor Weird is nice!

I'm sorry, Doctor what?)

Spideychelle, spideychelle.

She calls him her itsy bitsy spider constantly. Like, that's his contact name.

Ned is grumpy because I was here first. But then he sees how cute they are and admits that fine. She can have Wednesday and Thursday. Mr Stark has Saturdays and Tuesdays. He has Monday and Friday. Peter has Sunday off. Sometimes.

Peter crafts gifts using his webs, intricate flowers and careful handwriting on her window so the light hits just right and she can read the messages on the floor thanks to the shadows. If her favorite jacket, the one in ffh, continues ripping on the side, a web immediately flies to hold it together. It's the new rage in the school.

For the first few weeks, it's a bit hesitant. And then she says fuck it, gently pushes him to the floor, climbs on top and naps away. May finds them snoring, legs entangled and limbs askew. Peter holds her as gently as possible like that, careful with the superstrength and she makes sure to never put too much pressure on his chest so it doesn't remind him of the vulture or the weight of a building caving in his ribcage.

They go to Halloween as a trio. Ned may be jealous every once in a while but he's a good bro so instead of going as a pair with Peter, he finds costumes that go well with one more person.

They kiss and it's not electric. Not fireworks. It's the fizzle stars they light up in front of Mj's house, warmth shared in a puppy pile, soft sweaters and even softer curls. It's nice, makes him content and never overwhelmed. It's perfect, really. Romance doesn't have to be an uncontrollable inferno. It can be this too, a slow but steady fire keeping him alive 365 days a year.

[chairismaticchair]

You Are Mine

TW: Murder, Yandere actions, suicide thoughts, suicide aftermath

"What... What did you do Logan? What did you do to them?" There was a quiver in Patton's voice as he stumbled back from the man in front of him. He had already suspected something odd was happening, but the proof in front of him was undeniable. 

"It's simple. " Came the nonchalant reply, "I killed them. "

---

Logan held the picture in front of him, staring intently at it, as if it held the secrets of the universe. To him, it was far more important than that. It was a picture of four friends.

On the right side of the frame was the tallest man out of the four. He was lanky and his red highlights complimented his gingerbread brown hair. Giving bunny ears to the person beside him, the smug expression on his face vaguely resembled royalty. That, his name being Roman Princeton and his love of Disney movies earned him the nickname "Princey".

The man he was bunny-earing was pushing Roman's hand away, a playful glare on his face. His hair was a dark shade of purple, successfully covering his eyes. Clad in a black and purple patched hoodie, he was one of the shorter members of the group. His name was Virgil, and his dark exterior reflected his "inner turmoil and evil" as he would often declare in a grouchy manner.

The shortest of the group was Patton,  the man standing next to Virgil. He wore a light blue polo shirt and a grey cardigan was tied around his shoulders like a superhero cape. Along with his khaki pants and dad jokes, he was the father figure of the group. His blond hair was messy and he wore black framed spectacles. The source of sunshine and optimism, he was always there to lend a helping hand. He had an arm around Vigil and another around the man beside him. 

Beside the positive man was Logan. His posture upright, he was the most serious of the bunch. His dark blue tie was on top of his black polo shirt. Black hair was brushed neatly to the side, and a pair of black framed spectacles framed his mocha eyes. None of his friends knew why, but he had bought the same frames as Patton shortly after he had purchased his own. Whenever they did ask him,  their only answer was a shrug. The first time Patton spotted the matching spectacles, he did not ask any questions. Instead, he beamed, gestured towards both spectacles and exclaimed, "Glasses buddies! " That made Logan smile, a rare thing. 

Now, just the thought of Patton's arm around him caused a pink tinge to show up on his usually pale cheeks and tingles at the places where Patton had wrapped his arm around. It felt nice. He had never felt like this before but he liked it. He wanted more. He needed more. 

Just then, there was a knock on his door and it opened. " Hey Lo, do you have-" Purple hair was brushed aside as Virgil walked closer towards Logan. " Oh, that's a nice photo. From that trip to Disneyland, right? Roman was such an idiot. " He rolled his eyes fondly at the thought. 

Logan wasn't focusing on that, however. He was focusing on how Patton had his arm around Virgil as well. Clenching his fists, he gritted his teeth. How dare he! That despicable cretin, attempting to steal his precious Patton. Patton was his. With his hugs, warmth and cuteness, he deserves everything. He wastes his love on Virgil. 

Noticing Logan stiffen up, Virgil tilted his head curiously. "You okay? " Before he finished his question,  Logan had made up his mind. It was simply the most logical way to approach a problem. You destroy the threats and the problem disappears. Simple as that. His eyes scanning around the room, he found the perfect tool to assist in his procedure. A tie. It was an old one, slightly tattered around the seams, but it would work. 

Grabbing the accessory, he pushed Virgil against the wall and wrapped the tie around his neck before pulling tightly. Gasping for breath, Virgil hysterically pulled at the fabric in an attempt to loosen its tight grip. However, with the combination of his smaller stature and shock, he was unsuccessful. "Wh-why? " He managed to choke out.

Logan pulled tighter, his grip still even. His face was void of emotion as he answered Virgil's question. "Patton deserves better than to have to love someone like you. I'm merely helping him. " 

In a few seconds, the man's body slumped to the ground, unconscious. However,  he held the tie tight for a couple minutes longer to ensure death. Admiring his handiwork, the corners of Logan's mouth lifted to form a satisfied smile. Deciding the next phase of his plan, he opened his room door slightly and peered out, making sure that no interfering roommates were going to pass by. 

Safe. He hoisted Virgil bridesmaid style and crossed the hallway towards the emo's room. The light was still on, and the oak desk that was at the side of the room was a mess, as if he was searching for something. Placing down the body on the floor, Logan flung open the closet door and, as messily as he could, searched for a belt. Spotting a long black one, he climbed onto a stool and found a hook on the ceiling. It used to have a large black swing that hung from it, but the wear and tear it received sealed its fate to the trash. Perfect. Knotting a noose in the expert way that any outsider watching would be worried by,  he looped it over the hook. 

The next part of the plan. Bending down to grab the corpse, he placed the head through the noose before letting gravity take over. Success. The smile appeared on his face once more. Patton would be so proud! He had always told Logan to help others, and now Logan was helping him. Stepping off the stool, he kicked it to the side. 

Finally. Logan knew that Virgil had considered suicide before,  which was what made his plan so perfect. Eyes scanning the desktop, he spotted a black journey and flipped through it, till he reached the page he had suspected was there. Hey guys, it wrote in scratchy handwriting, I just wanted to tell all of you how much you mean to me. I'm sorry. I need to do this. I can't take it anymore. The voices, the constant throbbing in my head,  the pit of dread in my stomach. The pain is too much to bear. I don't know what else to do. I'm trapped. I just want you guys to know I love all of you. The single letter 'V' was signed at the bottom. 

Perfection. He tore out the page and left it on the table, before walking back towards his room. 

Logan went back to business. Taking out the picture that had been carelessly thrown aside, he tore the spot between Patton and Virgil,  before pinning the side with him and his beloved on the wall. That picture gave him another surge of adrenaline, right before he heard a shrill scream and the clatter of an object onto the ground. 

Patton. Logan knew exactly what to do. Bursting into Virgil's room,  he feigned a gasp before turning towards the blonde beside him. A plate of chocolate chip cookies lay on the floor along with a plastic plate. Trembling, Patton feverishly looked around the room for something,  anything that could explain the body in front of him. He grabbed the paper on the desk and scanned it, more and more tears dripping down his face. Logan placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, careful not to scare him.

"It… it can't be. " He mumbled, "He said he was getting better, he said he was alright. " The volume of his voice raised as he choked out every word through tears. "He said he was fine! " He was screaming now, on his knees. 

Realisation dawned upon his face and his puffy eyes widened. "And I believed him. " He whispered hoarsely,  "How could I have been so stupid? Why am I so stupid? Why? Why? " The questions started to torment him, each one a stab at his heart. He ducked his head, not wanting to face the limp body dangling in front of him. Gasp after gasp could be heard as Patton struggle to breath, pain surging through him in each attempt. 

Seizing his moment,  Logan knelt down and placed a hand on Patton's back,  moving it up and down rhythmically to guide his breathing. "Everything will be okay." He comforted, "Everything will be okay." Patton still trembled, waves of emotion threatening to drown him once more. There was a panicked look in his eyes as he nodded hesitantly.

Roman had been standing at the doorway, silent. He had came running when he heard the screaming and when he saw Virgil, he stopped in his tracks. Unlike Patton's frantic reaction, Roman merely stared at the limp corpse dangling from the ceiling, like a warped Halloween decoration that he could not take his eyes off of. 

Why did he… He shook his head, snapping himself out of his stupor. He couldn't afford to ponder for a reason. He would fall into a destructive cycle, and he couldn't do that. He had to make sure Patton will be okay. Roman knew that Logan was not the most empathetic, and he needed to help support Patton. And with that decision, he walked over to Virgil.

Standing on tip-toes, Roman gingerly removed the noose. Silent, he lay the body on the floor, a single tear rolling down his cheek. He wiped it off. He had to stay strong, for his friends. They needed him! 

However, Roman allowed himself a moment of weakness. Leaning over Virgil, he kissed his forehead softly. "Sleep well, my love."

---

It had been a month after Virgil's death. Patton would still break down whenever he spotted something that reminded him of the man, like a purple hoodie or the cat figurine that he had made for Patton for his birthday. 

He had looked around the room for anything that could show that Virgil didn't kill himself, but he found nothing. There was a stool that was kicked aside, presumably how he hung himself. The wardrobe was messy, as if he was panicking when he looked for the belt. Everything pointed towards a suicide. But Patton refused to believe it. He had said he was getting better, and Patton had been able to see it, so there was no reason why he would have done it. 

Maybe he was pretending. A voice taunted in his head. Maybe he didn't trust you enough to tell you the truth. Patton shut his eyes tight, trying to drown out the voice in his head by muttering three words to himself over and over. " He didn't lie. He didn't lie. He didn't-"

The door opened and Roman stepped inside, two cups of hot chocolate in his hands. "Er... Padre, I don't think being in this room is healthy for you. Come outside, I made you a drink." 

"No. No. I have to find out what happened. " Patton paused. "Maybe Logan could help me, he's smart!" Charged by the new idea, he dashed off to the opposite room. 

Roman stared at the closed black door, before sighing. After looking around the room wistfully, he followed the energetic man. 

Hearing knocks on his room door,  Logan opened it to reveal Patton. His  eyes were bloodshot and he had dark circles around them. How cute. Logan mused. Even after crying and staying up late, Patton was still the most precious person he had ever seen. His most precious person. 

Stepping out, he shut the door behind him and smiled. "How may I help you, Preci- Patton? " 

"I'm trying to find out about how Virgil-" He hesitated. "Passed away. I really don't think it was a suicide,  and you're really smart, so I thought you could help. " 

As Logan opened his mouth to respond, Roman stepped out of the room. "C'mon Pat, take the drink. I'll...I'll help you with the investigation." 

As he passed Patton the hot chocolate, Roman never noticed the glare that had been shot at him by Logan. Instead, he was giving Patton an encouraging smile. Perhaps they could move on together. It'd be hard but it would be easier with a friend. 

Logan narrowed his eyes even more. He knew exactly what Roman was planning. It was so obvious, with that fake smile and lies. He was trying to steal Patton away from him! Another plan formed in his mind. 

Beaming towards Roman, Patton's eyes briefly shone with happiness. "Thank you so much, Ro! You're the best! "

That's what triggered him. Clenching his fists, Logan gritted his teeth. "Roman, could I… speak to you in private? "

The princely man tilted his head curiously, before shrugging and following Logan inside, leaving Patton by himself. 

"I don't like how close you are with my Patton. " Logan stated simply after Roman closed the door behind him. 

He was returned with a confused expression. "Wha- your Patton?"

The bespectacled man stepped forward, fists clenched. "Yes. He is mine, and I don't like it when people try to take away my things." By now,  Roman was backed into a wall and he had his hands up in surrender. 

"I… I just want to help him get over Virgil's suicide. " He protested. Logan chuckled darkly, before picking up a penknife from his desk top. 

" What suicide? " He asked,  finger delicately tracing the tip of the knife. Roman's eyes widened. 

"You… you… .you killed him! " He gasped, before pushing Logan backwards. Logan stumbled, then leaped forward and pushed Roman back against the wall. 

His knife traced Roman's lips. "What pretty lips. Would be a shame if I cut them out. " He paused. 

"Though I would like to torture you slowly, my love is waiting outside the door. " 

The only thing Roman did was scream. " He killed V! He-" A slash of the throat interrupted his yelling. 

Patton burst into the room. "Wha- who killed V?" Stopping in his tracks,  his eyes surveyed the scene in front of him, from Logan holding a knife to Roman's slumped body on the floor. 

He stared at Logan in horror. "What... What did you do Logan? What did you do to them?" There was a quiver in Patton's voice as he stumbled back from the man in front of him. He had already suspected something odd was happening, but the proof in front of him was undeniable. 

"It's simple. " Came the nonchalant reply, "I killed them. "

Patton trembled in his spot as he attempted a confident facade. "What are you… you going to do now? Kill me?"

Logan walked towards him, before caressing his cheek gently. "Kill you? I would never hurt you,  Precious. Don't you see? I got rid of all the threats that stood between us. That emo and that silly prince. Now,  we can be together. You can finally be mine. " 

Patton pushed Logan away,  shaking his head. "I'm not yours Logan.  This isn't right. "

Logan chuckled darkly once again. "Oh precious, you don't have a choice. You are mine. "

[maneaterwithtail]

A lot of people were acquainted with him through his prolific participation in News & Politics, but to me Aaron was always an author, one half of the team behind Hybrid Theory. That fic was a bastion of creativity, drama, and wry humor; a ludicrous and ambitious premise, played gloriously straight. It provided me with much-needed hope and entertainment in years past. His death comes as a punch in the gut, and takes the wind of optimism out of my sails.

I never knew him well, and now I never will. Rest in peace, Aaron. The world is lessened by your absence from it.

-orm Ember

I didn't want to write this. 

Not just for the obvious reasons, that nobody likes to say goodbye to a friend like this. I didn't want to make this about me, because it isn't about me. I wanted to say something about him, to tell his story, to express the tiniest part of the loss I feel in a way others could understand. 

But I came to realise that it wasn't for me to tell his story. I can't. That story was for him to tell, and unfortunately, he cannot. The only story I have to tell is the story of us. So that's what I'll do. 

I met Aaron Peori when we were both new in high school, about twenty-five years ago. Glace Bay High was the tenth of the eleven schools that I attended in my eleven years of schooling, and so by then I was almost as well-practiced in "meet new friends" as I was in "meet the new local pack of bullies". Walking home, I noticed one guy about my age that always walked alone, reading a book. In other words, a fellow nerd, a weirdo, an outcast. Like me. After a couple of days of spotting this lone reading fellow, he happened to be reading a book by Christopher Pike, an author I also had books by. That was, as the saying goes, an opening.

"Hey, isn't that a Christopher Pike book?" I asked this stranger, casually, as if I hadn't already known.

He looked up at me, not even showing any surprise that some weirdo had walked up and asked about the book his nose was in. "Yes," he said, peering at me owlishly from behind his glasses, then after a moment added, "He's a good author."

By the time we reached home that day, we were already good friends. From that point on, in fact, we were virtually inseparable, aided by the fact that he lived almost literally in my backyard.

From the very beginning, we were creative collaborators. At first, we were using GI Joes and a few other toys in elaborate setpiece dioramas that spanned his house's enclosed front porch, and sometimes spilled out to occupy part of the year as well. Factions, sacrifices, betrayals, and no doubt embarassing-in-retrospect dialogue were all a part of those first afternoons and weekends.

I think he first got a copy of the Marvel Super Heroes RPG from his cousin. Before I'd met him, Aaron and his cousin had both been drawing their own comics about a space-based superhero team called Sonis. Now, with a tool that you could use tell stories about superheroes, and rules to arbitrate - our new great dioramas were ones made of words, not toys. I quickly made my own "expanded universe", about a group of mercenary superheroes called Heroes For Hire. 

At that point, what turned out to be a very long-lasting pattern was set. Aaron was the GM, and I was the player. Aaron created the worlds, and I lived the characters in them. He did want me to be the GM sometimes (it's more fun being the player!), but I was always uncomfortably aware how much better at it he was than me, and so I felt intimidated to pit my own lesser stories against the epics he created.

As time went on, another pattern that would be long-lasting emerged: Aaron and I's stories became vastly greater in scope. He rewrote the resolution system of the game to account for much higher power levels than the original design used (Ochre feats!), and eventually we dispensed with the rules altogether, playing completely free-form with no set rules and only the occasional dice roll. I learned to handle multiple characters at once, and bored at the success easily reached by my insanely overpowered characters, learned to find more fun in getting them in trouble instead. Aaron learned to handle the narrative challenges faced by trying to craft stories about protagonists who had literal "I win" powers, and weren't very likeable to boot.

Very little of Heroes For Hire would be something I wouldn't be embarassed to show off today, but my former internet nom de guerre "Blade" comes from the most central and overpowered character of those days.

About a year before I left Cape Breton, Aaron and I discovered two things of lasting consequence: anime, via his having a comic adaptation of the movie "Project A-ko" in his huge box of comics that I would regularly raid, and fanfiction, which I had been introduced to via USENET by another friend of mine, Mark MacIsaac. After I left, Aaron had more free time, and thus he started writing a story that combined two of his favourite things: the then-popular anime Ranma 1/2, and Star Wars. 

Aaron wrote prolifically, longhand on sheaths of paper, in his inscrutable and typo-laden scrawl. My role in those first stories, for all they were credited under both our names, was just to type these up and edit them - but that wasn't a small task, to be fair. I can type 60wpm despite still pecking with two fingers instead of touch-typing, a skill that dates to those early manuscripts. 

That level of collaboration, though, wasn't enough. Soon we took to role-playing games again, and I took on various Ranma characters in lengthy phone conversations where he was once again the DM. Those games formed several of the plots for Ranma: Curse of Darkness, and the entirety of the plot of Kyoto Chronicles (sadly never actually finished), along with other stories both Ranma and non that never made it to the internet. Again, he would write the scripts and I would type them up, now with more creative control and editing. 

The time came when we once again lived in the same city, able to really collaborate with both of us writing scenes. All of this finally culminated in Hybrid Theory, our longer-than-Lord-of-the-Rings magnum opus, and something we were both pretty proud of despite the various flaws and that we totally botched poor Rei's character arc.

After writing something like that, we were sure, it would be easy to write something for professional publication. But unfortunately, it never came to be. Circumstances separated us again, several promising projects got stalled after a few chapters, and then the grinding workload he faced at his job hurt his ability to write consistently.

But Aaron never stopped writing fanfiction. His mind never stopped working. Most of what he wrote was "junk" in his words, and he wouldn't even show it to me, but he was still thinking up stories and worlds and his favourite thing of all: elaborate fight scenes. He once told me he could write in any series, no matter how crappy or derivative, "as long as the main characters can run up walls".

It frustrates me that I cannot prove to anyone here how brilliant Aaron was, because that brilliance was hidden behind the various flaws in his prose style. His prospensity for typos never did much improve, though he could at least spellcheck stuff he wrote on a computer rather than longhand. He never got hung up like me searching for the exact right word, and so he often just used the same words over and over. For those that read his last work, I can only explain that I took out a ton of "snaps" - "snapped her head back", "snapped his wrist forward", "the snake snapped out" and yet there are STILL that many in there. I was going to do a much more thorough editing pass when it was finished. 

But that is all surface-level. Where Aaron excelled was in his vision for a setting and story. He could take the ridiculous and make it somehow sublime - indeed, he often challenged himself with making ridiculous or cliche concepts work. He could keep track of a million dancing pieces and know precisely which should enter the stage, and from where. It's not that I didn't contribute meaningfully to our collaborative efforts, but I often felt like a child with crayons colouring in the lines of a sketch by Da Vinci. Even if my colouring was good, it wasn't the masterpiece.

His players knew, though. Another habit Aaron kept for the rest of his life was GMing (though he enjoyed playing, when the opportunity was afforded to him), even if he couldn't do it as much in recent years. Aaron was a masterful GM, able to coax out strong story arcs and dramatic moments from players of any skill level, able to make NPCs that the players hated or loved or both, able to coax rambunctious player parties into dramatic clashes and events that never felt railroaded. But perhaps even more than that, he was a master of making game rules work for him instead of against him. Aaron loved role playing game rules: one of his primary hobbies and uses of his spare cash was to buy new gamebooks, even if he never planned to use them for a game. He'd devour them, expertly analyse their strengths and flaws, modify and house-rule them to his liking, and even a notoriously tricky game to GM like Exalted flowed smoothly in his hands.

His set of replacement Dragonblooded charms are still the best and most flavourful charmset ever made for them. And he always maintained that the best game system to run Star Wars with was the pulp action game Adventure! - which was the very last game I'd play with him. He was, as always on these matters, completely correct.

In another world, even with the problems we had, I'm sure Aaron could have been a published author. The problem, if problem it was, was that Aaron's prolificness stemmed from his own joy in writing and creating. Ultimately, if he was more interested in writing about a magical self-insert Sakura than he was in something "professional", then that's what he did. He took note of criticism and changed things if he got it, but ultimately the only critic whose opinion he internalised was himself. He wrote because he enjoyed writing. If somebody else enjoyed what he did, great. If nobody did, he'd write anyway.

Aaron and I were so close that my father asked me if we were gay once. We weren't - I'm straight, and he was (unknowingly at the time) asexual. But we loved each other anyway. We had the kind of easy camraderie and understanding where we could nostalge and talk for hours upon hours, week upon week, and never get bored even when we didn't have really anything to talk about. We were never bored of each other's company. From that very first day we met, we understood each other in ways that nobody else ever did, or ever would. I never pictured my life without Aaron in it. I was going to be a writer, I knew at 15 years old, with Aaron. I was going to move back to Canada someday - and live near Aaron. 

There is a hole, and it cannot be filled. It hurts, and it will always hurt. And yet I am greater for having it. It is unthinkable to wish that I didn't have it. My life without Aaron is unthinkable. I'll have to think of it, maybe another day, but not yet.

Aaron's last few years were difficult in some ways. He stuck in a predatory, horrible job that left him perpetually sick and exhausted, the only thing in the 25 years I knew him that actually forced him to stop writing and GMing for any length of time. He was too proud to take help, too tired to look for an alternative. He nearly died of a perforated ulcer a few years ago, and that added "chronic pain" to his ailments, and being him, he would only take painkillers when it became unbearable. It was unsustainable, we knew it, but he was always reaching for that promotion that would finally bring the shorter hours he had been asking for. In the meantime, he'd always say "Don't worry about me, I'm fine." I wish he had been right.

And yet.

In those same years, Aaron discovered himself. He discovered that he wasn't the strange not-wanting-sex freak he had grown up thinking he was, that there were many people like him out there. He got in touch with the emotions he had suppressed within himself due to a traumatic childhood experience, and while he sometimes had difficulty handling his newfound sadness (he was striken by grief like I'd never seen over the death of his grandfather) or anger (political topics were verboten in our conversations over the last few years), I believe that for all the pain and overwork and lack of creative output he was still in some ways never happier than he was these last few years.

He told me once that he wanted to find a partner of either gender, who didn't need or didn't want sex, but could be with him and hold him close when he needed it. I cried, and told him I knew he could find someone once he was out of that job. He deserved it. He deserved that happiness too.

This forum (although not solely) had a lot to do with him discovering himself, and that is why I felt I had to post about him here. You meant more to him than you know, and to some of you, though I don't know your names, I owe a debt I can never repay. Whoever you are, thank you so much. You helped him in a way I couldn't. The joy and hope of his last years came from the help you gave him.

And that's the end of the story of us. Aaron was exhausted, pushing himself beyond what he ever should have - now, at least, he can rest. Aaron was in pain, but now the pain is gone. There was nothing good or right or kind or acceptable about it, but it can't be changed, it can't be helped. 

Goodbye, Aaron. I love you. Thank you for writing stories with me.

-Chris Mcneil addressing sufficient velocity forums