#man........................maybe i should revisit that au. just like a little bit

[wordsgood]

loreleaf ended up with a short king boyfriend but there is something about loreleaf that makes me want to drop him into a very tall and muscular man's arms and let him blush for hours about it. this has absolutely nothing to do with totk and my thinky thoughts about link and sidon and the height difference, i don't know why you'd even bring that up

[jeanie-g]

Oh yes, teacher AU please 😏

I mean how can I not 🤷🏼‍♀️

HAHA we were just talking about this so ofc! i started writing it months ago, but lately i've revisited it to flesh out the story a lil bit.

let me set the scene: jack is a 7th grade english teacher working on his first Big Project (either a novel or a play - i'm between the two rn, but i'm leaning towards play) that he's....kinda stuck on. he doesn't love being a teacher either, just sees it as a temporary job til he gets published (can u see the incoming character arc? lol)

so, he's a bit lost. he's got his best friend trevor (who teaches 8th grade science), and he's got his brother/roommate luke (who pays the majority of the rent w his swanky ahl contract), but that's it.

until he meets nico at the bar one night, who's new in town (and also hot and mysterious). and wow! jack finally has a life outside of school....a way to separate his work/home life and a chance at love!

until he shows up on monday and sees that nico is the newest gym teacher lol. cue hilarity and nico trying to seduce jack in the broom closet. jack has to reassess the way he separates his personal and work life and how they intersect - and fall in love in the process ofc.

it's very much a rom-com but i wanna explore jack's identity as a writer and teacher, and give him some room to figure himself out :) i just finished Writers & Lovers by Lily King (highly recommend!!!), which is major inspo for this new direction.

here's a (slightly ~spicy~) snippet:

***

Jack clicks his tongue. “I don’t wanna talk about work. It’s…exhausting sometimes.”

“Hence the bar?”

“Pretty much.” He regards Nico, just sitting there—the hottest man in this whole place—and plays with the straw in his glass. “But I’m feeling better now.” It’s cheesy, he knows, but Nico flushes anyway. Jack is really liking how easy this man is to read.

“And why is that?”

And Jack can’t help himself. He lowers his voice. “Well, I’m hoping the handsome European in front of me is going to ask me to go home with him.”

Jack expects Nico to be surprised at his forwardness, but he just grins like the cat who got the cream. “A little presumptuous, hm?” he asks, goading—devilish.

Jack smiles, darting his tongue out to lick the lime juice off his lips. “Am I out of line? I’d hate to assume…”

Nico takes a calculated sip. He leans in close. “Jack, I’ve wanted to ask you that as soon as I laid eyes on you.”

Jack shivers just the tiniest bit. It's the air conditioning, surely. “Yeah?”

Nico eyes him. His lips shine. “Yeah.”

They finish their drinks quickly after that.

“I should probably warn you,” Nico says in their Uber to his apartment just a few blocks up. They would’ve walked if they had any kind of patience. “My place isn’t very furnished.”

Jack’s hand is tracing patterns on Nico’s quad—this man has to work out. He wonders what he does for work. Construction, maybe? He never did mention, but then again, neither did Jack.

“Do you have a bed?” he asks. His hand crawls towards Nico’s inner thigh and he hears a sharp intake of breath.

“Yes.”

“Sounds suitably furnished to me.”

They’re on each other as soon as Nico’s front door closes, greedy hands finding purchase on any pull of fabric or strip of skin they can find. Nico’s mouth finds Jack’s in the dark, meeting him in a blazing kiss that makes Jack’s hairs stand on end and fireworks light behind his eyelids. Nico’s like a magnet—or a planet, pulling Jack in to orbit around him. Jack surrenders to it easily, and he doesn’t give himself time to even worry he’s being too needy about it.

It takes them a while to get through the small apartment, pushing each other up against walls or furniture to make out some more, Nico getting distracted by Jack’s wandering hands and Jack getting distracted by Nico mouthing marks that will definitely bruise along his jaw. Thank God it isn’t a school night; his students would have a field day with that one.

Blissful, adrenaline-fueled minutes elapse over Jack, and he doesn’t even register they’ve gotten to Nico’s bedroom until the backs of his knees bump against his bed and he goes tumbling backwards with a surprised yelp. Nico tumbles with him, shifting his weight so he doesn't crush him. He’s chuckling into Jack’s neck, and the sound vibrates through his head, swimming alongside the subtle buzz from the gimlets and Jack’s own desire, burning like an uncovered flame with an endless supply of oxygen.

Nico leans back, his hair thoroughly mussed from Jack’s fingers raking through it. A sliver of moonlight from the window illuminates his beautiful face.

“What do you want, Jack?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. He sounds like he’d do absolutely anything Jack would ask him to.

The moment feels tight with anticipation, a Schrödinger’s cat of possibility. Jack leans up and kisses Nico sweetly, and drops his head back on the pillow.

***

and that's where i have to stop before it gets actually nsfw lmaooo

i'm so pumped to keep writing this. thanks for the ask <3333

[hauntedjpegcollection]

enemies

wc: 1077 au: mercenary au ch: mouse + tino

“Please, don’t let them hurt me.”

She says it to him because he looks like the type to fall for it. The type to be too kind to be a soldier; like there's a hint of someone in those pretty brown eyes who hates all this violence. Maybe rebukes it--has nightmares about it later. Very cute. He won't find a reflection of that person in her; but she's escalating the terror in her eyes as much as she can. On her knees, hands tied up behind her back.

Captured. Go fucking figure.

It's not necessarily fake, either. Unfortunately. That shine in her eyes is partially real--someone had hit her in the face, pretty fucking hard. Had knocked loose a little blood. Just a dribble of it from her nose. A bead rolls over her lip, and she resists tasting it with her tongue. The blood will make her look properly pathetic.

And they won't kill her. Not yet, anyway. Valuable for the time being--that doesn't mean they won't hurt her. And she's not interested in torture. A whole been there, done that kind of vibe. No need to revisit (enough nightmares to last a lifetime, a few scars that will never fade). So she's staring at this SAS soldier, that salt and pepper look to him and thinking, oh this one for sure.

Mouse's eyes wander over him, standing as he is. He's thick in his tac gear. Built with strong arms, bear paws of hands. And her eyes linger on one of those hands too, because there's a hint of a tattoo. One she thinks she recognizes, enough to make the cogs start turning in her head. Handsome, older, soft eyed--rosary tattoo.

Just them, waiting in the room for transport.

She lets herself bow forward, head sinking.

“God, help me,” she chokes out, in what she thinks, is a very convincing sob. It’s soft and not dramatic. She’s not putting her full chest into it, making it a little whimper. As if she’d said it without meaning for him to hear—but he does. Shifts on his feet a bit, those heavy tactical boots crunching on the floor. Mouse blinks a few times. Then screws her eyes shut and shakes her head a little. Needs those tears and blood to look wet.

When she looks up, Mouse lets her knees part further. She sinks lower, real small and real sad. Look how weak I am, look how weak and sad and pathetic I am. Look at me. Look at me...And he does, and there's a roundness to his shoulders now. A softening up--like warm butter. Mouse wants to smile but that would probably ruin it.

“I—I’m just a specialist—I don’t—” She scoots forward and he raises a hand. She can see the rough callouses of his palm. She briefly thinks they must feel nice sliding over skin. He looks like the kind of man to enjoy missionary. Slow and gentle and romantic, cradling his lover close. He'd like a soft kiss to the brow, a gentle bite to his ear lobe, eye contact.

“Need you to stay quiet,” he says. It’s not a threat. Just an order. She nods her head, feels that blood slide harder from her nose and it makes her recoil from herself. She sniffs and then tears are able to spill from her eyes—fucking finally. They fall wet and fat, roll right off her chin.

“The rope hurts,” she whispers. “And the blood—feels funny,” Mouse laughs that out, not her usual note. It’s a soft aren’t I sad? “Can you get it for me?”

He stares at her, his face carefully constructed for a soldier. All hard planes, all serious. But she can see a small shift in his expression. A little hesitancy and a little give. Mouse holds her tongue, makes her eyes big, stares up from the floor. He’s tall like that. Attractive, in that way older men are. Missionary is boring, she’d tell him. You should try it rough.

The soldier lifts a hand—I bite, she thinks, laughing inside her own head, hard—and his thumb gently brushes underneath her nose. She sighs out, lets the warmth of that breath touch his palm as he brushes. Her eyelashes flutter, her face tilting toward his hand. That’s not necessarily staged. She’s always been one for a soft touch to the face. Always liked those big, rough, soldiers hands when they curl in a little gentle.

“That better?” His voice is still gentle, but there’s some roughness laced in with it—Mouse smiles, maybe with too much teeth because his eyes assess her immediately. So she leans her head forward, lets it sag into his thigh. He should back up, should get away from her, but she must be doing something to this poor soldier. Hell. He’s not doing nothing to her, either. Could be a worse man to try and manipulate.

“I’m scared,” she mumbles against the rough fabric of his tactical trousers. He smells like sweat and gunpowder. Unfortunately, her brains wired that to be a lot more arousing than it should. “Sir.” Maybe thats heavy handed—but all soldiers seem to want someone saying that one little word to them, breathy and hot. His hand moves, seems to tuck under her chin.

“Stop that,” he’s admonishing her and it makes her laugh—in her real laugh, which is a slip up because he holds her a little rougher. She tilts her head back to look at him, his hand holding her face and—well. She accidentally Mouse’s a bit too hard because she smiles her real smile. All sweet and pretty, and since his hand is so close—she brushes her tongue out, lathes it over that calloused hand, licks her blood right off his finger.

Mouse only gets to have her teeth skate over his finger for a moment before his hand jerks her back roughly by the shoulder. He spins her so she’s facing the wall—it’s a difficult scrabble across hard concrete for her and she’s hissing when he does. His hand rests on her head, gently tucking it toward the brick.

“Don’t turn around again, now. Alright? You hear?”

She huffs out a petulant little sound. Her tongue is salty from the blood.

“Don’t get mad at me if you liked that,” she snaps.

Fine, she’d find a different way out SAS capture.

[andiwriteordie]

OOOOOH WAIT THIS IS BUILDING OFF OF THE OTHER POSTS—Brenner encouraging the kids to connect to the spirits too young. It’s not an accident, it’s him pushing them like he pushed El to find Henry/the demogorgon, and the kids getting killed/spirits turning dark and angry bc of what Brenner’s doing/ people dying but Brenner covering it all up & barreling forward with his goals regardless (what are his goals)?

Quick refine of prev question in earlier ask: how specifically does will get into the spirit world, how does he get out, & will the spirit world be revisited/visited by anyone other than will in the party & in what context (as of your thoughts right now, obvi subject to change & all & au still growing).

Also… this is more in canon, but how DID the mindflayer possession affect will’s ability to regulate body temp? Bc i love the will being cold/not like cold thing, and i see it so often, but—will wasn’t cold when he was possessed. Or rather, he didn’t FEEL cold. He felt overheated, because his surroundings were so much warmer as compared to him. But like. Did the flayer alter Will’s perception of the temperature, lower Will’s body temp/damage will’s circulation, or a bit of both? Bc in theory… wouldn’t canon!will be OVERheated now? If the damage was permanent? (Unless we’re talking bad circulation)

But then i’m thinking about that as it relates to this au and like… it doesn’t matter, because i’m too attached to the will-regulating-temp-with-bending-but-stopping-bc-trauma, & the mike-noticing-&-warming-him-with-bending idea. & them learning to breathe together… UGH this au is so GOOD i cant

what are brenner's goals? million dollar question right there. i think brenner is a character who wants to be known. i mean, henry hit the nail on the head when he said that brenner is a mediocre man who seeks greatness in others. so, in this au, i suppose that means brenner maybe has a bit more of a connection/deeper interest in spirits (mostly to weaponize them because let's be real it's not bc he feels all happy let's commune with the spirits), and so, he seeks out the kids (starting with henry) and yes i love that! brenner is trying to search and learn more about the spirit world, and i think i've talked about this in some of my asks, but the idea that the world is changing—deciding that spirits should not be meddled with and that there is no need for connection to the spirit world? recipe for disaster as brenner wants to learn more. so, he's forced to find alternative ways.

ooh okay, let me think about this one a bit. will does end up physically in the spirit world, at least in my brain as i'm conceptualizing this. i suppose that means that hawkins needs to be at least relatively close to the republic city for the kidnapping to occur? OR—and again, i am literally making this up as i type this response out to you i apologize LOL—we pull from the stranger things canon a little bit more and have el opening temporary spirit portals. something something hawkins is a remote little town, and brenner's lab/headquarters/wherever he keeps el is a few miles from it. and the night of will's kidnapping, el enters the avatar state and accidentally breaks open a spirit portal in a rush of emotions. will, who already has a natural connection to spirits (spoiler alert he is. also one of those kids who just so happen to be born with a deeper spiritual connection. everyone was shocked. /j) is targeted by some dark spirits, who take him into the spirit world. the portal natural closes on its own, and will is physically stuck there.

i think then, following ST canon, we wouldn't see people go back into the spirit world in their physical forms as often, but we would see will struggle with this newly formed connection to the spirit world (i.e. maybe he's trying to meditate and get peace as he's suffering with his ptsd and anxiety, and he meditates into the spirit world) as well as el meditating into the spirit world but not being able to connect with her past lives yet). and eventually, it would be a sort of thing where then the spirit world begins to bleed into the real world as the spirits become more and more angered, and as henry manipulates things that are happening and we move into the equivalent of the ST S4 canon. i do think eventually having the party go to the spirit world together would be something i'd want, for the simple fact that i want mike to hold will's hand while they're there because he knows will doesn't want to be here but is forcing himself to keep going.

in st canon, that is a very good point! i'm not quite sure when thinking about the mechanics of the mind flayer possession and its long term effects on will's body. this is just me, but when i think about the cold part too, i also just think about how will was trapped in the upside down for a whole week and described it as incredibly cold and dark? so maybe that feeds into it too that it reminds him of that? good questions good questions there

yeah the mind flayer possession would obviously be different in this au, though the details are a biiiiit hazy right now as i think i'm still wrapping my brain around that too and the different ideas floating out there and how they relate to henry. so when i think about the idea that will struggling to regulate his body temp and such, it's more in the aftermath of his ordeal in the spirit world and how he ended up in the dark and cold parts of that world without any way to warm himself up kinda thing!

[in-ky]

An Old Scent [2] - Negan x Reader (A/B/O AU)

Summary: During summer break, you decide to come back home to visit your dad, Rick. Over the course of your stay, you realize that your dad's friend is pretty hot.

Warnings: Eventual smut, A/B/O dynamics, cheating, angst, age gap, Negan, a bit of gore if you squint

A/N: ok so everything is written i'm just gonna stagger posting a little bit :') 2.7k words

The first thing I woke up to in the morning was a dull ache in my lower abdomen. Great. My heat was starting up again. Growing up, Bee always asked why I never went on suppressants. I always got a bad vibe from them. Then, a few years ago, a large brand got recalled because it was shown to cause cancer in a lot of different patients. Now suppressants were harder to come by, more regulated, and needed a doctor's prescription. A lot of omegas took the hit hard, but out of it came an influx of at-home ways to take care of your heats by yourself. Super helpful for a single girl like me. When my heats started to get really bad around my junior year of high school, Bee took me out on a shopping spree and got me a bunch of toys to try and satisfy myself. It worked for a while, but they got worse as the years passed. By my age, a lot of omegas were already claimed and had an alpha to help them through their heats. I was still relying on the toys Bee had bought me. The box was tucked neatly under my bed, waiting for me. I rolled over with a small groan and sighed. The heat wouldn't be in full swing for another few days or so, so I could still go to the courthouse with my dad. Speaking of, I heard Rick shuffling down the hall and slid out of bed, gathering my bathroom stuff and walking out of my room into the small tiled room to start the day.

~~~

"So you weren't at the garage on the night of the eight?" Negan hummed, leaning against the railing in front of the tv. His eyes were glued to the face of the man sitting on the stand. The poor guy was drenched in a nervous sweat, tight blue shirt sucking at his chubby neck. He swallowed thickly and leaned forward to the microphone.

"That's correct," he croaked.

"Oh, Jeremy," Negan chuckled, shaking his head and looking at his feet. "Don't you know perjury is a criminal offense?"

"I-I'm not lying!"

"Is that so?" The alpha held up the remote to the TV "I have some footage here that directly contradicts your story, man. One last chance." He wiggled the remote teasingly and raised his eyebrows. Jeremy held his ground. "Alrighty then, let's see what we have here." He took a step back and furrowed his brow at the remote and pressed a button. The screen in front of him came to life. I had to lean forward in order to see the video, but in reality it wasn't the security tape I was watching. It was him. I couldn't look away. He had dominated the room for the past hour and a half. His deep voice was never raised, but it still carried a commanding tone that had every person sitting on the stand shaking in their boots. My eyes trailed down his body. His suit clung to him in every perfect way. His hair was slicked back in its iconic style and the way his glasses perched on his face made my insides burn. Part of me regretted seeing him like this so close to my heat, but another part couldn't imagine if I hadn't. Rick leaned over and tapped my elbow.

"We've got him now for sure." He whispered in my ear. A smile formed on my lips as I nodded to him. There was a child-like joy on his face. He really did appreciate my presence. I turned my attention back to the video screen. The footage was fuzzy, but there was a clear figure of a woman standing still hunched over what I presumed was her phone. She was texting away, fingers flying over her screen. Suddenly a large figure, who had the same height and build as Jeremy, slunk out from the shadows. He slowly approached the woman from behind and raised a crowbar high above his head. He swung it down with brutal force. There were small gasps of horror from the jury and the crowd as the crowbar connected solidly with the woman's head. She collapsed in a heap, but Jeremy didn't stop beating her until she was a pile of mush. Negan clicked the TV off.

"Well, shit, Jeremy," He boomed "I do in fact think you are lyin' to me." He tossed the remote down on his table top and gave a grim scoff. "Everyone just saw you turn poor Miss Parker's head into your personal punching bag. You still wanna claim you were no where near there?" All of the color had drained from Jeremy's round face. He swallowed again, tugging at his restricting collar. But soon, his face turned a deep shade of pink and he slammed his beefy palms on the flat surface of the box he was sitting in.

"That bitch deserved it!" He howled, gasping for air. "She had no business-" He stopped when Negan raised his hand silently.

"I really don't care," He sighed, turning around and grinning broadly when he saw the defense team resting their heads in their hands in defeat. "I'll let the jury do the rest, your honor."

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Smith." The judge said, voice prickling with annoyance. Negan returned to his bench and pulled out his seat. But before he sat down he gave Rick a small thumbs up. And I could have sworn that he flashed me a little smile as well.

~~~

"You were incredible in there!" I cheered, giving Negan a high five. The contact made my skin tingle, but I passed it off as the consequences of the impact. "You really made that guy tremble like a kid!"

"It's what I do," Negan chuckled deeply. He looked around me and furrowed his brow. "Where's your dad?"

"He's pulling the car around," I said "I just figured I should let you know how good you did before I leave." He was so close. He smelled so good. The same combination of whiskey and campfire that could get me drunk in a few breaths. I was so focused on his intoxicating musk that I didn't notice the group of alphas that were headed our way. Negan did, though. I heard a rumbling from his chest and felt a hand clasp around my shoulder. Confusion clouded my mind and I looked up to him for some answers.

"The next case is starting soon," He said smoothly "Let's go wait for your dad outside." I agreed and he steered me out onto the steps of the courthouse. The short skirt and heels I was wearing weren't exactly comfortable for walking down stairs, so I held onto Negan's forearm as he guided me down to street level. There was a small breeze and I saw his jaw tense as a soft gust of wind swirled up from behind me and into his body. It no doubt carried my scent on it, and an alpha like Negan could probably tell what state I was in.

"So," I sighed, looking to engage him further "What's next?"

"Well," He tilted his head and ran a hand over his bear-covered chin. "Jeremy goes to jail. Your dad and the department get praise. And I get to go to the bar for a celebratory drink." He paused for a moment, looking me up and down quickly. "You want to join me?" I opened my mouth to say something. To be honest, I wasn't sure what I was going to say. I didn't really drink, but I was willing to do absolutely anything that Negan wanted. But it was then that Rick rounded the corner and gave the horn a little honk.

"I would love to," I settled on "But dad has a full day of father-daughter fun times planned, and I don't really want to keep him waiting." I gestured awkwardly to where Rick was sitting in the car, bopping his head gently to incoherent music.

"Totally understand, doll." He grinned.

"Maybe another time, though?"

"For sure."

"See you around, Negan."

"Bye, doll, have fun. And be safe"

~~~

Negan was pleasantly buzzed, as per usual. He got off his motorcycle and hung his helmet on the handlebar before lightly stumbling into the house from the dark garage. The sight he saw he did not expect. There sat his fiancé in the living room, arms crossed over her chest with a pissed expression on her face. And beside her was a woman he knew all too well.

"The hell is goin' on here?" He asked, slurring his words slightly.

"I could ask you the same thing, Negan."

"Lucille, what the fuck is she doing in our house?"

"Oh, so you know her?" Lucille growled. Negan just licked his lips and flicked his gaze between the two women sitting in front of him. "Of course you do. You have been fucking her after all." Negan groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"Baby, please-" He started, but Lucille cut him off.

"Don't you dare," She hissed, jumping to her feet and balling her hands into fists "You don't get to call me that after what you've done, Negan. You slept with another woman. Hell, maybe more than one. You ruined our relationship." Negan took a step forward but Lucille raised her hand and pointed to the kitchen table. "Don't take another step. Your stuff is in that box." Negan looked to see a cardboard box sitting alone in the dark kitchen, his belongings poking out of the top. "I never want to see you in my house again."

"Lucille, can't we just talk about this? You don't understand." He pleased, extending a hand to her. She batted it away.

"There's nothing to talk about." She spat "You cheated on me, Negan! What is there to understand? How can you expect me to forgive you for that?" A moment of silence passed between them. The other woman shifted uncomfortably on the couch. Negan glared at her before turning his eyes back to his now ex-fiancé.

"I have no where to stay." He whispered.

"That's not my problem." Lucille said boldly "Take your shit and leave. Don't come back. We're done."

~~~

I stirred the pot of spaghetti while humming a song I heard on a radio earlier. The father-daughter activities had consisted of driving around town and revisiting old spots we used to go to when I was younger. We got ice cream at the shop down the street and then watched the sun set at the park that we used to picnic at. It was nice. College did really fix our relationship. The TV in the next room hummed quietly and Rick was talking on the phone with someone. I heard him hang up and walk into the kitchen.

"Think there's enough in there for three?" He asks with a sigh, looking over my shoulder.

"Should be, why?" I return, meeting his gaze. He takes a deep breath and scratches his neck.

"Um, well, Negan's fiancé kicked him out of the house. Apparently she found out he was cheating on her. He doesn't have anywhere to stay." He mumbled "He's gonna be sleeping here for a bit." I stopped stirring. The water started to bubble too close to the top, but I blew a gust of air to push it down.

"Why here?" was all I could muster.

"He really helped me with your mom. It's the least I can do."

I just hummed in acknowledgement and returned to my cooking. So Negan was engaged. And he CHEATED on his fiancé? Maybe I didn't know Negan as well as I thought I did...

~~~

"I just can't believe she kicked me out!" Negan seethed, shoveling a spoonful of spaghetti into his mouth. He was still chewing when he continued. "She didn't even give me a chance to explain myself!"

"I hate to say it, but you did cheat on her, buddy," Rick said carefully, not wanting to poke the angry alpha in the wrong way "She's upset."

"I was in a rut." Negan growled.

"For four months?"

I was making a plate for myself, listening to the conversation from across the room. Rick's phone buzzed on the kitchen table and he picked it up.

"Sorry, I have to take this." He sighed, shaking his head and standing to his feet. He left the room and suddenly it was just me and Negan. I took my plate to the opposite head of the table, watching Negan wolf down his dinner.

"This shit is really good, sweetheart," He groaned. Normally, the noise would have sent me over the moon. But there were so many other emotions clouding my mind. "You ever consider changing your major to culinary arts?" I didn't say anything, just twirled my fork in my serving of pasta.

"Why'd you do it?" I said quietly, almost in a whisper. Negan paused instantly.

"What?"

"Why'd you cheat on her?" My eyes never left my plate but I could hear him shifting in his seat, rubbing his face while trying to answer my question.

"I don't know," He said. His voice was soft, sincere. Something I had never heard from him before. My eyes drifted up and met his. They were the same tawny color, but there was something else behind them. Something I couldn't distinguish. "I thought...Something was off in our relationship. I guess I thought that I could fix it by trying something different. I ran into Tanya at a bar a few months ago. She's a beta, just like Lucille. Wanted to be with an alpha. I gave in. Just for a quick fuck, didn't mean anything. I didn't like her. I told her that but...she...she wanted more, I guess. She fucking threatened me. Threatened to ruin my life unless I kept seeing her. I chose to do it. I don't know if that decision was the right one or not but it's the one I made. I texted her last night to tell her it was over. Never fucking thought she would come to my home." I was chewing the inside of my cheek the whole time he was speaking. I didn't know how much of his story was true, but he sounded like he was hurting.

"Why did you break it off?" I whispered.

"That's your damn question?" He scoffed, giving a short smile. He looked in my eyes. I knew the answer. Or at least I thought I did. He opened his mouth, but Rick reentered the room before he could say anything.

"Alright, sorry about that guys," He said, slipping back into his seat. "What did I miss?"

~~~

Negan was set up in the bedroom next door to mine. Our doors faced each other from across the hall. We would have to share a bathroom. Rick didn't seem to have a problem with it, but with my heat starting I wasn't too sure about the whole arrangement. I felt more cramps riddle my body. I was ready to bed, ready to curl up in a ball and go to sleep, but something called me across the hall. Curiosity got me and I turned slightly, walking up and leaning on the doorframe. There was Negan, clad in grey sweatpants and a black tank top, unpacking his things.

"Hey," I said quietly, not wanting to startle him. He turned around. He looked older like this, hair unkempt and his glasses on. When he saw me his lips curled in a smile. Any trace of vulnerability I had seen earlier was now gone.

"Hey to you."

"I just want to apologize for earlier," I said "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I'm also sorry that you have to be subjected to me and my dad for the foreseeable future." He let out a snicker and shook his head.

"Don't worry about it, doll. And you're not that bad. I appreciate Rick; he's a good man." He scratched his beard and looked over at the clock next to the bed. "It's late, you should get some rest." He took a deep breath and I nodded. I turned to leave but he called my name softly. "You know I meant what I said last night, you are looking good." I smiled but didn't say anything and crossed the hall, shutting my door and hopping into bed.

[gloriousmonsters]

Do you have any SuXue thoughts? Would they work even without murder trio?

Good question! I'd only dipped into SuXue a little bit in the past (attempted to write a sex pollen fic that ultimately didn't go anywhere, but someday i might revisit the concept) but recently I started working on and off on a couple fics--one of which is set during murder team jinlintai days, but one of which is a canon divergent Sunshot era au, where the two of them meet as teenagers and jgy isn't involved.

And imo this is one of the few places you could start from (when they're young enough that both of them are a little more flexible and less cemented in their roles, sms having just left the Lan and xy having not killed the Chang sect yet) that I could see it working without some mitigating force in there to keep them from killing each other long enough to bond, but the reason I'm still writing the fic at all is that I think it can work.

Imo the key to it is that past their initial impressions rubbing each other the wrong way, they have remarkably similar values (i've said suxue is wangxian to the extreme left 😂) they both think the cultivation gentry are hypocrites and there's something wrong with the world! they're both fans of intense, some would say disproportionate, personal revenge! they're both later involved with different ends of nonconventional cultivation, sms reviving the ancient and xy on the cutting edge of the new, so we know they both have that instinct to push past the norm.

While Xue Yang comes off as arrogant and rude, past that initial impression he's definitely not the kind of arrogance that sms specifies he hates--xy is the opposite of a man born into advantage throwing his weight around and looking down on people. (The rude thing he just has to get used to.) And while sms, especially in his youth, comes off as a whiny coward timid, thin-skinned, and hypocritical (oooh you don't like people who were born into privilege? mr had a roof over his head as a child? mr trained at one of the great sects?) I think xy realizing that he's really down with murder, inventive murder, and also hey maybe isn't as much of a coward as you initially assumed, would make him warm up.

so like, once they've gotten past really pissing each other off, you mainly just have personalities that conflict, and that's more like the spice that romance is made of than an actual obstacle, y'know? I don't have a lot of specific ideas past this except for ones that directly pertain to the fic I'm writing, which I don't wanna spoil 😂 but yeah, ultimately it'd require luck and the right timing but SuXue can, should and will work as a ship :P

[slothspaghettiwrites]

The Man In The Red Suit

The Man In The Red Suit - Cursed Together

Story Rating: Explicit, 18+ only

Warnings: canon typical violence (it’s deadpool), lots of suicide talk from both sides (again, it’s deadpool no one actually dies), blood, Google Translated Greek/Ancient Greek (i’m so sorry), lots of history talk, age difference (i guess), 

Relationships: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Reader/OFC

Word Count: 4052

Summary: Deadpool falls into your life, literally. 

A/N: Soulmate adjacent AU with Deadpool and Mysterious/Cursed reader. I’ve only written this much for it. I spent so much time researching things for this fic, and I’m still half tempted to just drop it. I deffo think it could use to some rewording and proper editing yet. Let me know what you think. 

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A man in a red suit fell onto my roof terrace, which was a surprise mostly because to do so he would have had to have fallen from the roof. All the homes above my own have only half windows that don’t open enough to allow for a full-grown man to fit through. I momentarily thought about just ignoring him, I could call the police tomorrow morning and pretend I didn’t hear his groans. I was surprised he was still alive mostly, that fall was maybe 100 ft, enough to kill most mortals. 

But my dwindling compassion left for those who can still die got the better of me. I crawled over my bed and pulled open the window that leads outside. The man was being very loud for someone who should be dead. At least his body was still in one piece. The winter wind whipped around my nightgown, the faded wool material providing little cover against the elements. I gritted my teeth and stepped around my fire pit. Thankfully he didn’t land in that. I would have hated to clean that out tomorrow. 

The dying man in the red suit had two swords strapped to his back. I could just end him quickly, so he didn’t suffer, but the blood. It would be a pain to cleanout. I had just moved back to my old home as well, and I was eager to revisit my old haunts and see what had changed in the past 50 years. I don’t want to spend the rest of the weekend cleaning. 

“Can you hear me?” I asked the man, crouching to be near his masked covered face.

“I’m not Hawkeye, of course, I can hear,” his ungrateful mortal tone rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe I should just drag his body to the edge and throw it over. 

“Do you want a painless death or not?” I frowned at him.

The man laughed like I’d just said the most hilarious thing this century. Throwing him off the building was sounding more and more pleasant. I’m sure no one will miss him that much.

“Look here you little-” when he called me little, he sealed his fate. Over the edge it was. 

“Anóito thnitóí,” I grabbed both of his arms and dragged him to the glass barrier. “Any last words?”

“Though she be but little, she is fierce,” he waved a gloved finger in my face and tapped my nose.

“Hermia I am not. Goodbye.” I toss him over the edge like I would any other piece of trash. 

I may have put a bit too much force behind it. He flew a good distance away from the building before he started to fall. I didn’t bother with watching his ending. I crawled back into my bed and tried to sleep, but found no rest. 

When I was mortal, I was a perfectly acceptable height. But now, with better nutrition, these mortals towered over me in most cases. I remember being called 4’11 and a tea leaf by a friend in a previous life when I lived in Nottingham. She enjoyed watching the Wimbledon and drinking too much tea for my taste. She was also short like I was, only a tad bit bigger. I hated having to leave her, but I had pretended that my ailing mother needed me to return home to take care of her. I had long ago grown weary of watching my attachments grow old. It was easier to just cut them out sooner.

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I spent Sunday morning scrubbing the deck of my roof terrace. The vinegar burned my nose, but thankfully the wood was treated with some kind of anti-rot treatment. It came off with only a little bit of elbow grease. I threw the rags I used into the fire and went about getting ready for the rest of the day. I bathed in rose and neroli scented water and scraped the dead skin from my body. My strigil would need replacing again soon, the once shiny metal tool now dull. Things just don’t last as long as they used to nowadays. I’m not even sure where I could purchase one of these anymore. 

Despite my dislike for loofahs and gently washing of my body, I do enjoy the modern shampoos and conditioners. The lovely scents, along with the added benefits of being capable of banishing my dry scalp, were a modern-day miracle for me. I dried off my body and went about the rest of my morning rituals. I applied moisturizers to my body, massaging the thick cream into my ageless body. 

Modern makeup trends were also a marvel to me. The Egyptians certainly had a look they enjoyed, as did the courts of Marie-Antoinette, but they were very ridged with their applications. Today’s mortals are freer and wilder with their cosmetics. I pat a small amount of this new jelly gold highlighter onto the apple of my cheeks and apply a tinted balm to my lips. That should be enough for today. I am only going to visit a very old friend… if she is still alive that was. 

I wandered into my closet. Another thing I enjoyed about this time was the clothing. Though I gathered that women were still expected to look a certain way, as I expected they always will be, there was still expression. We no longer all have to wear the same cut of cloth. I didn’t even have to wear a dress if I did not wish to. The plan to visit an old friend had put me in a nostalgic mood. I pulled out my grey tartan cigarette trousers, which when I first bought them were radical and controversial. They pair it with a black turtle neck that wasn’t from the same time but looked nice anyway. I add a thin belt that will match the gold fibula on my double breast travelers cape. 

My patent leather mary janes echoed against the marble walls of the lobby of my building. The Hermès Kelly bag I dug out my closet matched my leather gloves. In the back of my mind, I hoped my friend appreciated the efforts I’d gone to for this look. This was how we used to dress when she was young and we’d go out for lunches. 

The porter had already flagged down a taxi for me. He was a nice man with a generous smile. I tipped him well because rent in the city was disgustingly expensive considering how little employers were paying their people. I gave the driver the address, which he recognized immediately. He talked about a friend he had who he picked up often there. I politely smiled, pulled off my gloves, and reached for the thin journal in my bag. I thumbed through the faded pages, smiling at the memories I had with my friend. I hope she wasn’t too shocked to see me. 

The driver pulled up to a building I didn’t recognize. This wasn’t the boarding school I remembered. Now neon signs hang from the front of the building and there were bars on the window. Certainly, it hadn’t been the poshest school, but that seemed ridiculous. I put away my journal and stared at the driver through the plastic divider. He ran a hand through his greasy black curls and gave me a nervous laugh. 

“The door is down the alley and the first set of stairs on your left miss,” he sounded meek when he spoke to me.

“Hmm.” I pull out my wallet and hand the man a $50 bill. 

The alley to the school entrance was grim at best. There were several industrial dumpsters and men lingering around. But as I got the first set of stairs, I saw the bronze casted sign that was the same style as the sign I remembered from all those years ago. 

Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Children. 

Only that seemed to be the delivery entrance. Maybe they have restructured the building in the last 50 years. I would have to ask my friend when I found her. They should be back from Sunday mass now, so it shouldn’t be too difficult to steal a few moments of her time. It suddenly occurred to me that at nearly 70 she could be completely bedridden or so infirm she can’t speak to me. I prayed to the gods she isn’t. She was one of my only friends to know the true nature of my affliction. 

I wrenched open the door and was hit with a thick waft of smoke I hadn’t had to deal with for decades thanks to modern science. When will mortals give up their deadlier vices? The smell of sweat and spoiled alcohol hit my senses next. This wasn’t a school at all anymore. 

Well, that was unfortunate. Maybe the owner of this bar will know the details of what happened to the school so I don’t have to use a stupid computer to find out. I walked into the dimly lit bar and folded my gloves over my purse. It was surprisingly busy for a Sunday afternoon. Mortals never cease to disgust me with their attitudes towards life. 

My heels stuck to the gunky floor as I moved up the barkeep. 

“Excuse me, I’d like to speak to the owner of this establishment,” my voice rang out. I feel the eyes on me now. I am the only woman in the bar today it seemed.

“Uh, hey Mrs. Kennedy, are you sure you are in the right place?” A shaggy rodent-like man asked me.

“Well, this is Sister Margaret’s, or at least it was. I need the new address for the school. I am looking for a friend.” I explained, attempting to sound polite and not annoyed he has referred to me as the late Jack Kennedy. I looked nothing like that vapid woman. 

“Uh-huh, yeah… Are you even 21?”

This was one reason I disliked America so much. They’re obsessed with being 21 years old to drink. I have been drinking wine since I was old enough to wield a sword. I rolled my eyes at the man and pulled out my wallet to show him my new ID. It clearly stated that I wa 21 years old. Though I’ve now lost count of how old I actually was. 

The barkeep eyed it suspiciously, before speaking again. 

“If you want to know about the new address, you need to buy a drink.”

“Do you know how to make a Bee’s Knees?” I tried not to roll my eyes because I’d just rather get this exchange over with. I’m already annoyed by the ogling men. 

“What the fuck is a Bee’s Knees?” He stared down at me, which only annoyed me more. 

I stepped up to sit on a barstool so I was more in his eye line. My purse was securely placed on my lap and I unbuttoned my cape, giving the impression of a calm and composed woman. 

“It is gin, lemon juice, and honey syrup, shaken with ice and served in a coupe glass, do you think you can manage that?” I laced my voice with a pristine, practiced venom.

“That’ll be 20 bucks,” his eyes flicked to my bag. I passed him the bill and watched him mix my drink. 

“Thank you, Mr…” I stared at him expectantly, attempting to kill him with politeness rather than the dagger I have in my coat. 

“Weasel.”

“Thank you, Mr. Weasel, now if you will please give me the information I need I will drink my beverage in silence and then leave.” 

“Yeah… just gimme a second, it’s in the back,” he wandered off and I took a sip of my drink. 

It was acceptable. The gin was subpar, but it would do for the information I needed. A large bald man with a long beard saddled up next to me at the bar. He wore only a blank tank top and leather vest despite it being the middle of winter. 

“What is a pretty thin’ like you doin’ place like this?”

“I do believe that everyone here has eavesdropped into my conversation with Mr. Weasel and knows why I am here. Please take your attention elsewhere, sir,” I swirled my drink. What was taking that man so long to find an address?

“Now, c’mon honey, you looking for some fun?” He places a hand on my wrist.

“Remove your hand, or I will,” I turned to stare at him.

The man didn’t remove his hand. I could just kill him, but there were quite a lot of people here. I moved my drink to my other hand, down its contents, and replaced it before I grabbed the large man’s hand. I squeezed until I felt his bones in his knuckles begin to rub together. He makes a squawking sound before calling me a fucking bitch. I simply rolled my eyes at him as he wandered back to his booth. I pulled out my journal again to reread my old entries. 

I wasn’t sure how long I’ve been at the bar, but no one else has bothered me. Conversation and cheap cigarette smoke swirl in the air around me. I was distracted from my reading by a loud crash and shouting between two men. Mr. Weasel tumbled out the back room he went in to find the address followed by a man in a red suit. 

THE MAN IN THE RED SUIT. 

Oh my gods, how is he alive? From the amount of blood I had to remove my roof terrace, he should be dead from that alone. 

“You stupid cock gobbler, give me back that bottle,” he shouted.

“Wade, for fuck sake, you’ve drunk like half the storeroom,” Mr. Weasel yanked his ankle free of the man, Wade.

My curiosity was piqued. These new-age superhero types have mostly bored me. Their unwillingness to kill their enemies only showed weakness to me. 

“Mr. Weasel, do you need assistance with this anóito thnitó?” I asked him. I’d like to try killing him again, to see what happens. 

There is a loud gasp, “You! You threw me off a roof!”

I ignored Wade. Mr. Weasel walked back over to me now, seemingly empty-handed.

“Wade this lady couldn’t have possibly thrown you off a roof.”

“She fucking did,” he jumped up. “That little-”

I hurled my dagger and it sheathed itself into Wade’s leather-wrapped forehead. Nobody said anything for a moment. The force of my throw made him stumble backward, but he was surprisingly still standing. 

“Please don’t do that,” Mr. Weasel sounded exasperated and went to remove my dagger. He brought the weapon back to me, still dripping with Wade’s blood. I wiped it on the rag he gave me before I tucked it back into my cape.

Wade shook his head furiously, his mask covered cheeks making a flapping sound. 

“Do you believe she threw me off a roof now?” He shouted at Mr. Weasel.

“Interesting,” I tilted my head to the side.

In a blink of an eye, I was shot in the face in retaliation. I feel the bullet enter my cheekbone and exit the back of my skull. The force of his shot didn’t throw me off the stool, but it knocked my neck back with enough force to disconnect the bones. There was the sound of vomiting, and then more vomiting when I reconnected the bones in my neck. Thankfully, I could still see and use my eyes so I gave Wade a feed up look while the muscles and skin on my face wove themself back together.

“Oh great there’s another one, just what we all need,” the barkeep groaned. He was splattered with my blood and brain matter. 

“You are paying for my dry cleaning bill Mr. Wade,” I turned to Mr. Weasel, “I’d like another drink please, top shelf this time.”

“YOU THREW ME OFF A ROOF,” he came to stand next to me. 

“I assumed you were dying, surprised you were alive at all if I’m honest. I don’t know many mortals who would have survived that. Also, I offered to end you quickly, but you were incredibly rude to me, so I just continued you on your previous trajectory assuming my roof terrace wasn’t present.” I watched my drink being made. I didn’t miss the extra serving of gin being added.

“Mr. Weasel, do you have the address?”

We were watched like two animals being thrown into a pit to fight. Mr. Weasel slid my refreshed drink across the bar with an extra napkin. I pulled out my compact from my purse and checked the mirror while I removed some of the blood from my face. I completely ignored Wade’s spluttering at me. Even if he did have the information I required, I wouldn’t be able to visit my old friend in this state. What a waste of my day. 

“Uh, um, no, sorry,” his hands shook. It would seem he no longer saw me as just a lost woman.

I sighed heavily, “Well then, I must be on my way. Here is the money I owe you for the drink. If you happen to find it, please give me a call here,” I handed over the card to my building. “Please leave a message with the clerk. They will relay it to me.”

I pulled my gloves on and refastened my cape before I glided off the stool and started walking towards the door. I was going to have to take another bath when I got home, which upset me. Also having to explain what these stains were to a reputable dry cleaner would be a hassle. 

The air outside was chilly and bit at my ears. I pulled the collar of my cape up and walked to the end of the alley. I made several attempts to hail a taxi, but it seemed once they saw my current state they thought better of offering me a ride. I heard Wade stomp up from the bar and towards me. 

“Why aren’t you dead?” He asked, his voice was light and filled with genuine curiosity.

“I could ask the same of you Mr. Wade,” I tried to wave down another cab, but they just pushed down on their horn and sped by.

“I’ll call my guy,” Wade pulled a mobile phone from somewhere in his suit and dialed a number. 

“Dopinder dearest, pick me up at Sister Maggies asap,” he cooed into the device then repocketed it.

“So is your partner going to pick us up?” I asked.

“Yes, my driver is on his way now, but that still leaves us plenty of time to catch up on you, Queen of the Undead,” he crossed his arms. I assumed he was staring at me, I couldn’t see through the mesh covering his eyes.

“I am no Queen,” I frowned.

“Then are you an alien?” I gave him a look that conveys my feelings on that ridiculous question.

“Well you can’t be an angel,” he reasoned.

“What makes you say that?”

“Well for starters you’re too mean, and second you don’t have wings.”

“I could be a fallen angel?” I suggested.

“Unlikely,” he mused. “You could be a demon.”

“I have been called that before,” I told him.

“A witch then? I know that there is Scarlett Witch and The Enchantress, and don’t get me started on all the sorcerers nonsense coming out of Marvel.” 

“I am not a witch,” I confirmed.

“What about a vampire?”

“I don’t have fangs,” I bared my teeth at him.

“What about an elf?” He tapped a gloved hand on his chin.

“No”

“What about a pixie or like a sprite?”

“If you make a joke about my height, I will try again to kill you.”

Wade took this as a challenge. He set his elbow on my head and leaned into me. One of his ankles crosses over the other. 

“I don’t think Asgardians can bounce back from a bullet. Are you from another realm?”

“I have only lived on this earth.” Did I look Norse to him?

“Are you a goddess?” 

“Absolutely not,” I scowled.

“Oh we are getting somewhere,” he said with a giddy inflection.

A taxi pulled up and the driver rolled down the window. It was the same man as before. I thought about those odds as I slid into the back seat. 

“Hey DP,” the driver - Dopinder - smiled at Wade and made eye contact with me. “Oh, hello again, I didn’t know you were a friend of DP’s as well.”

“We aren’t friends,” there was a hard edge to my voice. “Can you take me to the library please?”

“We aren’t friends yet, it takes people a bit warm up to me, but you will.” Wade turned in the passenger seat to make eyebrows at me, or at least I assumed eyebrows. The mask didn’t give much away. 

“I am really not looking for friend’s right now,” I sighed, exasperated by the waste of my day. 

“We shall see about that, but back to my line of questioning, you seem very upset about being a goddess, why is that?”

“I am not a goddess,” I said again.

“Eeeehhh debatable,” he made a gesture with his hand. “Speaks greek, an unusual but truly captivating beauty, seemingly unable to die, increased strength stat. Do you have any other powers? Oh! Are you a mutant?”

“I’m not a mutant, and I have a completely normal level of strength.” That was an outright lie, but what did I care? My ability to control my muscle mass was my own business. 

We drove into the city, skyscrapers and old architecture blending together. I peered out the window, trying to fully remember all the details of the streets the last time I lived here. A low sigh escapes my lips. 

“Are you sure you wanna go to the library covered in blood and guts?” Wade turned to look at me again.

“I am not being dropped off at my building so you can see where I live.” I crossed my arms.

“But I’ve already been in your backyard,” he whined.

“Pool that is too much information,” Dopinder shook his head and gripped the steering wheel tighter. 

“You fell onto my roof terrace, I haven’t let you sodomize me,” I glared at Wade.

“Ugh, why would the author let you use that word,” he made a disgusted sound.

“That was the term for it for a very long time, what would you call it now?” I asked.

“Anal or ya know anything that isn’t an old people word.” 

“How old are you Mr. Wade?” I leaned forward and opened the plastic partition.

“I am 36 years, 4 months, 18 days, and 52 seconds years old,” he pulled up the sleeve of his suit only enough to reveal a cartoon character watch.

“Well, you are young and dumb yet, you’ll get over your lingual hang-ups eventually,” I pulled open the door as the taxi slowed down outside the library. “You have morbidly piqued my interest. If I decide I want to test a new way to kill myself, I will come to you first to test it out.”

I slammed the door shut and waited for the taxi to drive off before I turned and began the short walk to my building. I gave a nod to the porter when he looked at my filthy attire. My shoes stuck slightly to the rug in front of the clerk’s desk and that annoyed me. I stared at the mural behind them, an old style of cartography that hasn’t been used in almost two centuries. How things have changed…

“Hello Miss Ramirez, did I have any messages while I was out?” I smiled at the clerk, thankful the large reception desk hid most of my clothing.

“Yes, just two messages today. One from a DP, requesting information regarding your availability on Tuesday night for tacos though he left no return number and a second, from Mr. Stryker, again requesting a meeting sometime in the next week to discuss an employment opportunity.” She flicked through her small notepad. 

“Decline both offers for me, I have no interest in employment or courting opportunities.”

[waiting4inspiration]

In the Dark XIX: Vampires and Werewolves

Summary: While invested in planning things for the upcoming full moon, you're unaware of things going on outside between the werewolves and vampire. Outside the compound, things seem to be getting a bit out of hand

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of fighting, mentions of blood, mentions of a war, slight mentions of death, werewolf/vampire au, strong language, soulmate au

Word Count: 2,325

In the Dark Masterlist II Marvel Masterlist

The week went by so quickly considering how much running around had to be done. From making sure that peace was being kept between the two species now living together to starting to make plans for full moon, that bench in the park where you and Bucky used to spend so many nights together is starting to look more and more like a dream to you. A dream that you so desperately would like to revisit.

There’s still tension in the compound but you can feel it getting lighter and lighter as the days go by. You understand that things aren’t perfect yet. You can’t blame that on anyone or anything. It will take time for them to get used to each other. Time that you and Bucky didn’t have, so it feels like.

While the progress you can see between the two species gives you hope, each day that goes by without Tony waking up makes it feel like that hope is slipping away. There have been so many times where you wish he could advise you on what to do, how to be an alpha. Sometimes, you just wish he would make you laugh. You’re starting to miss your father.

Not to mention that you don’t know what will happen on full moon for him. Will he still turn while in this coma?

Thinking about all this, you run your fingers through your hair and breathe out a heavy sigh as you drop your head between your shoulders. There’s so much to think about right now, it feels overwhelming. You almost wonder why everything has to be done in the days leading up to full moon instead of in the month. Or even the weeks. It’s all because of a stupid werewolf tradition. Because if things are done days before, there’s no need to check on them again before the time. Because if things are done the days before, no vampire can tamper the plans.

What happens now that there are vampires on the premises?

“Breath, doll,” Bucky whispers behind you as he places his hands gently on your shoulders.

You take in a deep breath as he softly starts to massage your shoulder, drop your hands away from your head, and bite on your lower lip. “I hate this. I hate being alpha,” you whisper, leaning back in your chair and resting your head against Bucky’s arm. “This constant...pressure I feel from everyone, everyone looking to me for answers I’m not sure I have. I don’t know how much I can carry on doing this.”

Bucky smiles to himself as he turns your chair around with you still in it and then pulling you out of it. “I think you’re doing an amazing job.”

“You’re just saying because you’re my soulmate.”

He laughs, pulling you forward as he starts to walk backward. “Maybe. But maybe I’m right.”

Realizing that he’s pulling you out of the office that used to be Tony’s, you frown at him as if to ask where he’s taking you. But he only smiles at you and turns around, keeping your hand in his. He doesn’t lead you far, just to the large window that overlooks the training grounds you remember spending a few days on before meeting Bucky.

When you look out, you definitely don’t expect to see what you see. “Oh, my God.”

Everyone, every werewolf, and vampire has gathered around, forming a circle around two other figures. One is a vampire and the other is a werewolf. In wolf form. You watch the wolf jump for the vampire and a cheer erupts from what you think to be the werewolves of the audience. You can’t believe that this is happening now of all times.

Bucky grabs your hand before you can rush away. “Just watch,” he whispers, pulling you closer to him as a way to stop you even more from leaving.

You look up at him in shock, wondering how he could be so calm about this happening. But still, you look back down and do as he says. You watch.

As your eyes glance over the scene, you notice Nat standing beside Clint; the vampire she had walked up to meet when they arrived. If anything, you thought that they would have been the ones to break this up before it got out of hand. But then you look around some more and notice something else.

There’s no division between the vampires and werewolves. They’re all mixed between the crowd. It’s not like a fight where one side is one species and the other side is the other species. It tells you that this isn’t a normal fight.

Bucky’s eyes glance down at you when he sees your head tilting slightly to the side. He smiles, loosens his grip on you because he knows that you’re slowly understanding what’s going on. “Nat and Clint started it. Apparently, they wanted to see how rusty each other is. You know, for old time sakes,” he explains. Your eyes don’t move. “Now, they’re training everyone. But everything is under control. Wanda will step in if things go south.”

You chuckle, shaking your head in amazement as you step a bit closer to the window and the fighting vampire manages to throw the werewolf off of them. It’s amazing watching Nat stepping forward and the fight ending immediately. It’s amazing seeing them training, but not wanting to kill each other. They’re learning each other’s strengths and weaknesses, how to properly defend themselves against each other. And yet, when Nat’s finished saying whatever she wanted, the two fighters bow their heads in respect to each other and turn to walk away.

“You might feel like you don’t have the answers everyone is looking for, but maybe someone else has them,” Bucky speaks, walking up behind you and placing his hands on your shoulders again. “Sometimes, you just gotta step back and let someone else take charge of something they might know how to fix. You don’t have to do everything.”

He whispers the last part in your ear, making you breathe out a long sigh and gently nod your head. It’s almost like a relief has washed over you hearing those words. You don’t want history to repeat itself when it comes to what happened with the first soulmates. “I just want everything to work out,” you whisper.

Bucky understands what you mean. He’s scared the same thing that happened to the first werewolf soulmate happens to you. “It will,” he whispers as he rests his head against yours after kissing the side of your face. “Just give it some time.”

As you’re about to say something about that, your mouth falling open to speak, you spot something in the distance, over the walls of the compound. Bucky spots it too, his head perking up as he steps next to you. “What is it?” you ask, knowing that his eyesight is better than yours. A vampire perk.

He stares for a second longer, narrowing his eyes as what seems to be a group of people coming closer and closer. “I’m not sure,” he mutters.

“FRIDAY?” you whisper after a few moments of silence, your hand slipping into Bucky’s.

“It seems to be a pack of werewolves, miss. Some of them are injured,” the female AI says.

Your head lifts to Bucky to see if he’s thinking what you’re thinking. They can’t be here to cause trouble if some of them are hurt, right?

“We should help them,” Bucky says, but you can hear a bit of hesitation in his voice.

Bucky’s not sure about this. He knows that there is only one thing that’s out to hurt werewolf packs. A coven of vampires. He only hopes that they haven’t led this coven here and jeopardized this...community you and he have created. But he can’t convince you to turn them away. What if you had been one of them and you needed his help?

You nod your head and start to walk away, expecting him to follow you. But he doesn’t. He keeps looking out the window, his hands curled in fists and his shoulders slightly tense. “Aren’t you coming with me?” you call out to him.

He looks over his shoulder at you, shocked that you would consider that option. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

“I think they should know that they’re walking into a place that’s got some vampires too.”

This could be the perfect opportunity to see how someone outside the packs and coven that are close to the two soulmates reacts to the situation. Both you and Bucky know this.

When you get to the front gate of the compound, you’re glad that for once there’s no crowd. The others didn’t notice the oncoming pack so they must still be training. It makes things a little bit calmer. And you’re sure that this pack would also prefer things to be a little more mellow than making a big fuss about everything.

Bucky stops for a moment as you two near the group. “Scott?” he calls out, making you frown up that he knows another werewolf outside of your pack.

You look out at the group to see who this werewolf your soulmate knows is. A man’s head snaps up and a relieved look washes over his face. “Oh, Bucky. Man, I’m so relieved it’s you,” Scott says, walking forward to greet Bucky. His eyes then go to you. “This is your soulmate?”

You smile at him as Bucky looks back at you. “Yeah. She is,” Bucky says, looking down at you with a glimmer in his eyes that you don’t see as you greet Scott. “What happened. Scott?” he questions as he looks out at the broken pack. They all look exhausted, some have torn clothes and some have traces of blood on their bodies. When he sees a girl creeping away behind a woman’s leg, he feels a small tug in his heart, hoping that she wasn’t hurt.

“We were attacked by vampires. Luckily, we all got out in one piece but we knew we could stay where we were,” Scott starts to explain, looking over his shoulder at his family. “You guys were the closest werewolf pack.”

He doesn’t have to say anything else for you to understand. Whenever a werewolf is hurt, they always go to the nearest pack for help and that pack has an obligation to help them, heal them, and make sure they’re okay before sending them back to their pack. If it’s a pack that has lost everything or needs help, the pack they’ve come to for help has to help them settle down somewhere else or even make plans to merge. The latter normally happens all because of the stupid idea that they can make a bigger, stronger force to take down the vampires that hurt the said pack.

“Who attacked you?” Bucky asks, his voice stern and strong.

Scott looks up at him, his jaw tensing. It’s obvious that he’s not sure if he should mention who it was. But he takes a deep breath and a step forward so he can whisper to Bucky. “From the scent, a group from your coven.”

You place a gentle hand on Bucky’s arm to calm him. You know he’s tried in the past to stop everyone in his coven from hurting any werewolf. Now that those that left no longer have to obey and listen to him, nothing is going to stop them from hunting down werewolf packs and killing them. Hell, what’s to say they won’t go into the human sector and turn a few humans into vampires? You know that thought is going through Bucky’s mind too.

“Well, we’ve got more than enough room for you guys,” you speak to break the moment of silence that has fallen. Stepping to the side, you let Scott lead his pack through the gates and into the compound. That means a few more heads to add to your list for full moon.

Feeling Bucky’s tenseness beside you, you glance up at him and find him staring out down the road leading away from the compound, his chest rising and falling with every heavy breath he takes. When you glance down, his metal hand is clenched in a tight fist, as you expected. “Bucky-”

“I’m going after them before anyone else gets hurt.”

You stop him from walking away by turning his face down to you. “Not alone you’re not.”

“I’m not taking you with me, (Y/n). I won’t be able to live with myself if you got hurt.”

“And what do you think I would do if you got hurt because I let you walk into something like this alone?” you fight back, your fingers caressing the side of his face as you step closer to him. “They’ll outnumber you and you being the Winter Soldier is not going to help you against them.”

He knows you’re right, but he can’t ask your werewolves to join him in this. Not with the full moon being around the corner. But he can ask his coven. The chances that this rogue group of vampires that came from his coven will go looking for weak werewolves during the full moon is very high. So, that would be the perfect time to stop them.

They might even help a few werewolves along the way, recruit a few...friends.

“I think I just thought of a way to get my vampires out of your hair for the full moon,” he whispers as he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours, a smile growing on his face as he cups your face in his hands.

“Well, it’s good to see that you’re helping,” you tease with a small laugh, making Bucky chuckle as well.

Now starts his planning for what will happen on full moon for him and his vampires.

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[tonystarktogo]

Could I pretty pretty please get some more on the time travel crack au? Maybe when it gets out that Steve, Bruce, andThor are technically from the future?

As much as I’d love to jump to that part, I think it’s funnier necessary to cover a few other tidbits first. For example:

Tony misses whatever discussion follows Thor’s -- hah, got it right in one, he hasn’t lost his touch completely yet -- arrival before the god carries his brother off towards a containment cell with the sort of cheer that causes Tony to carefully keep at least two people between himself and Thor, lest the asshole tries to hug him again.

Not that it can be that big a loss considering they all -- sans Loki -- end up back in the command center of the helicarrier, where Fury glares balefully at the most recent invader of his precious aircraft that clearly isn’t meant to stand in the way of gods.

A glare Thor aggressively doesn’t notice. Likely because he’s too busy partaking in the on-going discussion on what to do next.

And by ‘what to do next’ Tony doesn’t mean the expected we-were-invaded-by-a-mindcontrolled-alien-nutbag-and-there’s-probably-more-out-there-seems-like-the-kind-of-oh-shit-situation-we-should-plan-for. No. That would be reasonable and expected and Tony’s spent all of three hours in the company of the esteemed Captain America and already he can tell you that Rogers is none of that.

[Which, not cool, Capsicle. Dazzling and befuddling people with crazily brilliant ideas is his job.]

[continues under the cut]

So far, Tony’s been paying attention for ten minutes. In that time, Rogers and Thor have gotten into an argument over how to handle Loki -- which holy shit, that went from a calm, rational discussion to a battle to the death between two superhumans on a sugar high in zero point four seconds -- that Tony is so not gonna touch. [Nope. Let some other fool [i.e. Rogers] throw himself head-first into norse god family drama, Tony’s own feelings concerning his family are complicated enough.] That conversation devolved into a not-openly-fighting-while-totally-fighting stand-off between Rogers and Banner over a way too bitter comment from the latter [something about ‘you’d know all about choosing one brother over the other, wouldn’t you’ which what?], which in turn gets derailed by Banner needling Thor about the merits of beheading over stabbing.

Romanoff had the good sense to disappear -- probably to interrogate Loki while his apparently protective big brother is distracted, now that Tony thinks about it. 

Unfortunately that still leaves Tony stuck here, having to play the role of the mature adult because no one else fucking will. Tony hates being responsible. It’s like being back in high school and being left to do all the work on your own in group project.

[Tony failed that project. Got a straight up zero on purpose because spite is a wonderful motivator. Which, now that Tony thinks about it, doesn’t say anything promising about the current situation.]

Tony leans even further back in his seat, only balancing on the backlegs of the chair, to give Fury a very sharp, very judgemental look.

These are the people you’re betting Earth’s survival on, that look says.

Fury’s already pissed off expression darkens further, which brightens Tony mood substantially. That one of the suit’s sensors flashes green twice in quick succession less than a minute later really just makes for a delicious cherry on the top. Or more precisely a good excuse to ditch this trainwreck of a match-making attempt.

“Whoops,” Tony says, clearly audible but not too loud to draw real attention from the three [still arguing-while-pretending-not-to] stooges on the other end of the room. “Looks like I gotta take this call.”

He jiggles his fingers at Fury. The guy rolls his eyes -- probably jealous that he doesn’t have an excuse himself, that bitch face doesn’t fool Tony -- but no one tries to stop him.

“Alright, J, what do you have for me?”

*

Tony pretends not to notice the shuffling footsteps. Glances at the disturbingly normal clock on the wall that is so not up-to-date with the rest of the technology in the room, it must be an inside joke. Tony would love to meet the SHIELD agent behind it -- it can’t be easy, being the only person with a sense of humor in an entire agency.

30 minutes.

Well. That’s longer than Tony thought he’d get. JARVIS still hasn’t cracked the last layer on SHIELD’s really fucked up dirt -- and given what he’s already found, that says a lot -- but it’s only a matter of time now. Besides, Tony’s got a job to do.

“To- Stark.”

“Rogers.”

Tony doesn’t turn. Neither does he stop typing.

“What are you doing?”

Tony scoffs. He’s not in the mood to pander to inferior minds -- not when they’re so fucking frustrating, don’t make any sense and worst of all make him do all the work. 

“He’s tracking the Tesseract, using the scepter as a point of reference,” Banner says after taking one look at the screen over Tony’s shoulder.

Tony raises his eyebrows, impressed despite himself. Banner’s credentials clearly don’t do him justice -- and they were pretty damn good to begin with.

“Huh,” says Rogers.

Thanks for playing. Now buckle down and make yourself useful or fuck off, Tony wants to snipe but doesn’t get the chance to because the gods -- this god at least -- just aren’t on his side.

“Even without my brother’s help, a weapon of the tesseract’s might should not be underestimated,” Thor speaks up. “Should we not make haste and collect it?”

"Great idea.” Tony’s voice is dryer than the sand dune he crash-landed in back during his fun little trip to Afghanistan. “If only I’d thought of that instead of inventing fifteen new algorithms to try and get a read on SHIELD’s precious magic eight ball while you were busy defending your brother’s honor. Speaking of, I’m pretty sure Romanoff is a greater danger to his virtue than Captain Shockfreeze over there, so why are you still here?”

Okay, maybe poking the hornet nest that is godly family isn’t his smartest move [didn’t he just say he wasn’t gonna touch that?!] but damn if Tony isn’t curious. And also too annoyed to care about unimportant, subjective things like good manners and tact.

He sort of regrets his cavalier attitute a little when Thor sobers. At least there are no tears in sight. Tony is the last person on Earth who should be left unsupervised around crying people. It just never ends well.

“Ah.” Thor sighs heavily, stems his body against an unfortunate table that creaks dangerously. "I’m afraid I can’t afford to see my brother right now.”

It’s the way he says those words, the weight they carry more than anything that tells Tony he needs to drop this issue right now. Talk about one huge trigger button.

Must be inconvenient to have siblings. Tony totally can’t relate.

“Well, in that case, unless you have a magic trick with which you can pull the Tesseract’s position out of your sleeve, how about you sit as far away from these delicate instruments as possible and don’t touch anything while I work my magic, hm?”

Tony doesn’t let his gaze linger on the crushed edge of the table. Thor hasn’t even seemed to notice. He’s too busy lighting up at Tony’s snappish response. Which is surprising. Tony’s aware he’s a bit of an asshole right now. In his defence, he’s an asshole most of the time.

Rogers leaps across the room -- almost crashing into the previously mentioned delicate sensors as he does so -- to slap his palm over Thor’s mouth.

Tony stares. [How quickly can you develop a new habit again? Because this starts to feel like a new habit.]

“That sounds like a great plan!” Rogers beams at him, so wide and fake it must be physically painful for the epitome of all that is good and holy. At least Tony hopes it is. The supersoldier his father worshipped is still clinging to their resident god of thunder’s face.

It’s.

Tony resolutely turns his back on both of them because their madness doesn’t seem to come with a refund-ticket and if Tony doesn’t finish this program, no one will.

Not even Banner -- whom Tony had been kind of hoping for. Speaking of, the man’s been awfully quiet for a while now.

“You alright there, Brucie-Bear?” Tony turns around -- a little because it’s polite to face people when you talk with them and mostly to have an excuse not to watch the ongoing doomed wrestle-match between Blonde 1 and Blonde 2. His awesome nicknaming skill doesn’t get so much as a twitch.

To be fair, Banner is so busy staring straight ahead with the most epic rendition of the World’s Most Thoughtful Expression™ Tony has seen in a while that it doesn’t seem like the man heard him. At all.

Until he suddenly speaks up.

“I think we’ve forgotten something.” Behind Tony the impromptu wrestling comes to a sudden halt.

Probably something negligible like how to focus on a mission, the sarcastic voice in the back of Tony’s mind drawls. Though it should be noted that Tony’s consciousness only comes in sarcastic or not at all. Sorry, everyone, all the other flavors are out.

Banner’s frown deepens. “Something- Something important.”

Right on cue an explosion rocks the aircraft.

*

There’s a bit more tension in this part than the previous ones. On Tony’s side it’s because he’s smart enough to pick up on Something Is Seriously Wrong, both consciously and subconsciously and also because he feels the pressure what with everyone else apparently not taking this whole thing very seriously.

[Excluding Natasha who, believe me, takes Clint’s fate very serious indeed.]

On our time travellers’ side, they experience the frustration of being unable to talk openly, surrounded by people they don’t trust, trying to play along to the script of a movie they watched like 12 years ago and never revisited. Needless to say they’re failing horrenduously.

[onlydreamofmysoul]

The Prize (Ficmas #3)

The gymnastics au is here!!!! I’d love to revisit sometime and make it a multi-chaptered thing but for now... here we go!!!!!!

(This one is just wolfstar, it’s not set in the SW or C2C worlds :))

Remus looked up from where he was chalking up his grips to see Sirius just beginning a run up on the track. He let his eyes follow the other man for a moment as he took a couple of powerful strides before launching himself into a series of flips and somersaults, sticking his landing beautifully.

“Damn,” Lily whistled from his side. “He’s looking good this year.”

Isn’t he always, Remus thought, but he didn’t say that of course. Instead he just nodded. “Yeah, he’ll be tough competition, that’s for sure.”

“At least you’ll be competing as a team as well as individually.” Lily pointed out. “So hey, guess you can use him.”

Remus smirked and rolled out his shoulders before walking back to his bar, jumping to catch it before pulling his body up and around in a circle so he could support himself with his arms while his waist rested against the bar.

“You better get back to A-bar before McGonagall comes to find you again.”

Lily shuddered. “Yeah, damn she’s already salty that I forgot my chalk, she’ll murder me if I stay here too long.”

Remus chuckled as she walked off before taking a breath to refocus himself and setting back to work. 

He was trying to perfect his dismount - a triple back tuck, but no matter what he was trying, he kept seeming to land on his ass. He grit his teeth, annoyed that his coach was missing today. He had a stand in of course, but the new kid Peter had never coached anyone at Remus’ level and was really just there to put safety mats in place when Remus needed them mid routine. He was just setting up the iPad to record (if no one was teaching him, then damn he would try to do it himself), when Sirius wandered up to his side.

“Want me to take a look?”

Remus nodded. “Please,” He glanced over at Peter, lowering his voice, “He’s nice and all but…”

“He doesn’t know shit.” Sirius finished and they both laughed. “Yeah I know, he was working with me a few days ago.”

Remus got back on the bar and immediately set into his rotations, ignoring his routine and just circling the bar a couple of times before his dismount. When he let go he tucked in tight, pulling his knees into his body as his chin tucked into his chest, tumbling once, twice, three times before… falling back on his arse.

He flopped back on the mat, covering his face with his forearm for a moment. “Ugh I swear this is gonna kill me.”

He could hear Sirius’ smirk, but he peeked at the other man anyway because damn, if he didn’t like that smile. “You’re actually pretty close.”

“Yeah?” He asked, standing up again. 

“Yeah, c’mere I recorded it so you can see.”

They stood much closer than polite societal rules would usually expect, Remus getting to use the excuse of watching the iPad. Remus watched himself on the screen, it started okay, his swings were good, he had enough power between them and then-

“Oh.” He said. “I’m letting go too early.”

Sirius grinned up at him. “Yeah! I wasn’t sure if you’d see it, but yeah that’s your issue. You only need to hold on maybe half a second later.”

Remus bit his lip, trying to figure out how the hell he would work that out. Time measurements were never quite his thing. Sirius seemed to get that though and instead pointed up at the ceiling. 

“You’re letting go here.” He said, pointing at a 45 degree angle. You need to let go when your toes point up there.” Moving his hand so his arm made more of a 60 degree shape. 

Remus nodded and smiled. “Yeah that makes more sense.” He chalked up his hands again and got back on the bar. He always liked dismounts. They had never been his strongest feature, but they were often his favourite. The feeling was about as close to flying as humans could come. He really focused as he swung this time, envisioning the place he’d let go with every rotation. On the fourth swing, he let go, feeling himself fly higher into the air than he ever had today. He tucked in, already knowing it was going to work before his feet landed on the mat, without even a little stumble. 

“Oh my god!” He exclaimed, beaming at Sirius. “Thank you!”

Sirius smiled and made a gesture that looked like he was going to run his fingers through his hair before realising his hair was tied up. “No bother.”

He glanced back at the track. “I should uh, probably get back.”

Remus smiled at him ruefully. “Probably. Hey, thanks again.”

Sirius winked at him cheekily. “Anytime.”

A week later Remus was just finishing on vault when Sirius came up. 

“Hey, do you mind if I join?”

Remus looked up at the sound of the other man’s voice and smiled. “Yeah of course. I’m just finished anyways so it’s all yours.”

Remus wasn’t sure if it was just him or if Sirius actually looked a little disappointed at that. 

“Oh yeah, cool.” He looked down and pointed at the springboard. “Mind if I change that?”

Remus shook his head. “Work away.”

Sirius grinned and grabbed the equipment, pulling it several inches closer to the vault. 

“Is that close enough for you?” Remus teased. 

Sirius looked up at him, a strand of hair falling in front of his eyes as he made sure the board was at the right measurement. “Oh fuck off, it’s not my fault you’re freakishly tall.”

“Hey, six foot two is not ‘freakishly tall’! You’re just freakishly short.” He protested. 

Sirius stood up, a good head shorter than Remus. “And five foot ten isn’t freakishly short.” He opposed, his bottom lip pouting slightly before he grinned again. 

“I suppose we’-”

“Oi Lupin!”

Remus winced at Moody’s summons. “I’d better go.” He laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Sirius’ eyes widened. “Yeah you do not want to get on Moody’s bad side. I accidentally made him tea instead of coffee once and I don’t think he’s forgiven me yet.”

Remus snorted a laugh. “That sounds about right.” He shuffled a little, not really wanting to leave. “He’s not too bad though.”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah,” He looked across the gym and spotted his own coach, Arthur Weasly, making his way across to them. “I like my coach too.”

Remus followed his gaze and smiled. “Oh Weasly’s lovely, I’ve always liked him.”

“You do know I’m timing you, right Lupin?” Moody called and Remus’ eyes widened. 

“Fuck, see you later!” He half yelled as he ran off, Sirius laughing in the background.

Remus was stretching out his splits the next time Sirius found him. 

“Hey.” Sirius greeted as he slid into his right leg split next to Remus. 

Remus glanced over at him, eyeing the other man’s form. “Hi. You need to turn your back knee under more.”

Sirius did as instructed then winced. “Ouch, I can feel that stretch.”

Remus smirked. “Ha, sucks to be you.”

Sirius stuck out his tongue. “Oh fuck off, not all of us are naturally flexible.”

“Okay we both know you’re the power gymnast and I’m the flexible one.” Remus said as he twisted slightly to sit in his side splits. Sirius followed his motions so they were now face to face.

“You ready for regionals?” Sirius asked. 

Remus shrugged a shoulder. The regional competitions were two weeks away. “I suppose? As ready as I’ll ever be anyways. I’m not too sure about my pommel routine but I suppose there’s always something that’s not perfect.”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah, I hate the rings. I mean I like them, but they’re my least favourite.”

“It’ll be nice to compete again though.” Remus admitted. “I missed the last season with my injury.” He said, nodding to his taped knee. 

Sirius winced. “Yeah, how’s it doing?”

“Oh it’s fine now, I just like to keep it supported.” Sirius met Remus’ eyes. “Better safe than sorry, am I right?”

Sirius nodded seriously. “It was a dislocation right?” 

Remus nodded. “Yeah, but I damaged the ligament, that’s why it took so long to recover.”

“Fuck that’s a tough one.”

Remus nodded as they both twisted into their left leg splits. He reached back and patted his right knee fondly. 

“It’s okay now though.”

Sirius smiled softly. “It’s nice to have you back.”

A week before the regional competitions, Sirius found Remus in the locker room.

“Hey.” Sirius greeted, still in his shorts and a t-shirt while Remus was still shirtless after his shower, towel drying his hair. He peeked out at Sirius from under the white cloth before lowering his arms. 

“Hey.”

Sirius seemed to freeze for a moment, his eyes following Remus’ arms to where they rested by his side, his gaze snagging somewhere around Remus’ midsection. 

“Sirius?”

Sirius seemed to snap back into himself, shaking his head. “Shit sorry.” He mumbled, his cheeks flushing. “I uh, I zoned out for a second.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Did you need something?” He asked, amused as he shrugged on his shirt. 

Sirius blinked a few times before coming fully to his senses. “Oh yeah, right, yeah.” He blinked again and Remus had to bite back his laugh. “Are you staying overnight at regionals?”

Remus cocked his head. “They’re six hours away and we begin at six am. I’m staying the night before and the night of the competition.”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah.” He breathed. “Me too, that’s what I’m doing.”

Remus waited a beat, but Sirius didn’t seem to have anymore to say. Remus put on his denim jacket, checking his watch - he had twenty minutes before he needed to be in class. 

“Okay well, if that’s it I’d better go - I have class in a bit.” He said, smiling at Sirius and beginning to move towards the door. 

“Wanna share a room?” Sirius blurted out just as Remus was opening the door. 

Remus froze, then turned to look at Sirius, his hand still resting on the door handle. 

“It’s uh, cheaper.” Sirius continued, rambling a little. “And I figured it might be easier? I don’t know, I don’t like going myself, plus it’s nice to spend time with your team and-”

“Yes.” Remus laughed, cutting Sirius off. “That sounds really good.”

Sirius’ eyes lit up. “Yeah?”

Remus nodded, smiling. “Yeah.” He glanced towards the door then looked back at Sirius. “I’ve gotta go now because I have a class, but I’ll text you and we can work it out?”

“Yeah.” Sirius breathed. “Text me.”

Remus smiled and went out the door, falling back against the wood the minute it had closed. Had that just happened? Was he really going to share a room with Sirius Black? This was quite possibly the worst decision he had ever made. 

(And yet his heart seemed convinced it was the best).

He glanced at his phone again. Fifteen minutes to get to campus. Remus cursed under his breath and ran out the door, he could think about this later. 

“Hey Re, can I get a lift up to regionals?” Lily asked as they ran around the floor warming up the next day. 

“Sure. Sirius is coming too.”

Lily side eyed him. “You’re giving Sirius a lift?”

Remus could feel his face reddening, and it wasn’t from the exercise. “Um, we’re kind of going to share a room.”

Lily stopped running and stared at him. Remus had to jog back a couple of paces to get back to her. 

“You’re sharing a room with Sirius?” She asked, her eyes wider than saucers. “What? How? When did this happen? How did I miss all this?”

“Maybe it was when you were off getting serenaded by that swimmer.” Remus teased, talking about James - Lily’s new boyfriend. “I’m just kidding. It wasn’t a big thing, we’re… friends now? Yeah I think we’re friends.”

“You’re sharing a room but you don’t know if you’re friends.” Lily deadpanned. “Remus Lupin you are a useless lump of a man.”

Remus burst out laughing as they began running again. “Hey, give me a break, I’m just glad I’ve been able to actually talk to him, believe me there were a few times where I barely even functioned.”

Lily gave him that knowing look again. “Oh I’m aware. It took you this fucking long to talk to him in the first place, and then he was the one to make the first move.”

“Okay you can't call it ‘the first move’, we’re not dating or anything.”

“Yet.” Lily snorted and Remus just rolled his eyes, smiling. “So, can James come up with us?”

“Ooh, your boyfriend’s coming to the competition huh?”

It was Lily’s turn to flush. “Hush.” She admonished. “Maybe I just want him to show the other ways my flexibility can come in handy.” She said, smirking. 

Remus wrinkled his nose. “Ew, imagery, Lily why would you do this to me.”

Lily jumped and kissed him on the cheek. At five foot one she was more than a foot shorter than him. “Cause I love ya.”

Remus smiled. “Love you too. And yeah, James can of course come too.”

“You’re the literal best, Remus Lupin.” Lily said seriously as they slowed down to stretch. “I’ll let him know. You know, I have this feeling he and Sirius are going to get along really well.”

Remus grinned at the image. He had only met James once or twice, but he knew what Lily meant. “I suppose we’ll have to wait and see.”

James and Sirius got on so well Remus was half worried they would ditch Lily and Remus altogether and just ride off into the sunset. They arrived in the hotel lobby and Lily tucked herself under Remus’ arm sleepily for a moment as Sirius and James got the room keys. 

“This is really nice.” Lily sighed, looking at the boys fondly.

Remus had been surprised at how well everyone had melded together. It felt like they had always been friends. Platonic puzzle pieces. They had left fairly late - everyone needed to finish classes and work and they had driven in the dark. It was possibly the best road trip Remus had ever been on.

“Yeah.” He agreed, kissing the top of her head as the other two returned and the group split up, having rooms in different parts of the hotel. “Yeah, it is.”

“Which bed do you want?” Remus asked as he opened the door, his bag slipping off his shoulder awkwardly. 

“I don’t care.” Sirius replied, following Remus in, laughing as Remus struggled to adjust his bag and just flung it on the closest bed in defeat. 

“Guess this is mine then.” Sirius said, throwing himself on the second twin bed in the room. His hair was down and it fanned around his face like a satanic halo. Remus couldn’t look away. This had to be the worst idea he’d ever had.

“I am so tired.” He mumbled as he zipped open his suitcase, ignoring his gear to grab his pyjamas. 

“Me too.” Sirius agreed, standing up and kicking off his shoes before padding to the bathroom. The room was filled with the hum that always accompanied hotel bathrooms when the light was flicked on. Remus could hear Sirius shuffling around, brushing his teeth as Remus slipped into his pyjamas, sighing at the comfort they brought. Sirius came out of the bathroom and Remus took his turn washing up before flicking off the bathroom light. 

“Can I turn this off?” Remus asked, pointing to the main overhead light, Sirius already under the covers.

“Yeah go ahead.” Sirius said, his voice slow and honeyed with sleep. Remus flipped the switch and made his way to his bed in the dark, sinking under the covers, only just remembering to set his alarm for the morning before he let sleep take hold of him. 

“G’night Sirius.” He mumbled. He was asleep before he even heard a reply.

Remus didn’t see much of Sirius the day of the competition, bar when they woke up in the morning. But they had both been quiet, readying themselves for the day. They both had their routines and they worked around each other in sync. Remus had never gotten on with someone so seamlessly aside from Lily. 

Sirius bit his lip before they left the hotel room, looking like he wanted to say something. 

“Remus?” 

Remus had paused where he was tying his shoes, his tracksuit immaculate. “Yeah?”

Sirius seemed to battle with something in his head for a moment before letting it drop. “Good luck today.”

Remus smiled at him. “Thanks.” He breathed. “You too.”

“See you on the podium?” Sirius teased. 

Remus raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be the one in the middle.”

Sirius had been right, they did see each other on the podium. Sirius was the one in the middle though, Remus at his side winning the silver medal. 

“Well if it isn’t the golden boy.” Remus muttered under his breath as they smiled for the cameras. Sirius burst out laughing next to him, much to the confusion of the bronze medallist. 

“Told you so.”

“I suppose you did. The winner of more than one thing today.”

“Do I get a prize?” Sirius asked and Remus’ heart stuttered. It almost seemed… Flirty. 

“What do you call that big heavy thing around your neck?” He retaliated, smiling one more time before they were allowed down from the podium. 

Sirius smirked at him. “Validation.”

They all went out for dinner that night, celebrating a series of medals - Lily looking dazzling with another gold medal. 

“Aw look at poor Remus.” She and Sirius teased. “What’s it like so far down?”

Remus looked down at her, still miles beneath him even in heels. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

James choked on his drink as he laughed and Sirius cracked up beside him. They didn’t stay out late - they were all exhausted so as soon as they had dinner they all retreated back to their rooms.

“Onto nationals next.” Remus commented as he and Sirius strolled down their corridor after exiting the elevator. “Think we’ll make the team?”

Sirius didn’t have to ask what team. There was only one Remus could possibly be talking about, they all only had one goal in mind at this level - the Olympics.

“I really fucking hope so.” Sirius admitted, then bumped his hip against Remus’. “It’s looking good so far.”

Remus smiled and unlocked their door. “I suppose it is.”

They filed into their room, taking a moment to move their stuff from where they had been flung on the beds in the chaos that had been them trying to get changed quickly for dinner. 

“I still don’t have a prize.” Sirius said, his voice a little shaky.

Remus glanced up, his bed now clear. “Well, you never said what you wanted.”

Sirius flopped back on his bed, covering his face with his forearm. Remus couldn’t help but think of the first time Sirius had helped him - Remus had been in the same position. 

“I was hoping I wouldn’t have to, but it would seem you don’t do well with subtlety.”

Remus huffed a laugh. “My sincerest apologies.” He said, a little sarcastically before throwing caution to the wind and lying down on Sirius’ bed next to him. 

“What is it you want?” He asked, his voice soft in a way he had never heard it before. 

Sirius moved his arm so Remus could see gorgeous grey, surrounded by those long, dark eyelashes. 

“I want you to kiss me.”

Remus froze. Sirius wanted Remus to kiss him. Remus. Remus Lupin. Kiss Sirius Black. He was fairly sure his brain had short circuited. 

Remus must have frozen for too long, because Sirius sat up, swallowing as he moved away. “Um, sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I thought-”

Remus caught his wrist gently, his long fingers circling it completely. 

“Please never try to be subtle again.” He said, as he pulled Sirius down to his level. Chest to chest, they stared at each other for a moment, both of them barely breathing. 

“Wait.” Sirius croaked. “You mean-”

Remus didn’t let him finish, kissing him instead. All he could think was that this was what had been missing from his life. Sirius’ soft lips against his, Remus caressing that ridiculously silky hair as Sirius melted into him. 

Sirius pulled away for a moment to readjust himself - his arm had begun trembling under his weight, so Remus rolled them over, hovering over Sirius so he could kiss him sweetly. 

“I hope you like your prize.” He muttered and Sirius laughed against his lips before wrapping his arms around Remus’ waist and pulling him closer. 

“God yes.”

[doodledrawsthings]

Her Aim Was Getting Better

(Ahit ““““““Coffee Shop AU”““““““ rp log)

This is part of an RP between @displacedentities and myself detailing the meet-up between Luka and Vanessa, when she spikes his coffee with the curse. We did this a while back to get a feel for the characters and how that scene would go down, and they nailed it with how they wrote Vanessa. So I asked them if I could post it. Some of the stuff here was written before we had other things established, so some things like Hatties’s age and how long ago they split might be inconsistent with other posts I’ve made, but Enjoy!

(also forgive me for the way i write my parts, I’m not as practiced at writing rip)

(MysticDoodles) Despite the warm paper cup in her hands, Vanessa couldn't deny the chill in her bones. It had yet to go away since that day in court, biting at her skin and hovering just at the base of her brain stem. It always seemed to grow colder whenever she thought about how she got here... the things she'd said. What she almost did to that poor briefcase jockey in the courthouse.

But it didn't matter, anymore. If anything, her mom was happy she lost that case. Losing her husband and... child had stripped away all excuses she had not to throw herself into her work, and her mother was happy. 

Vanessa was not happy. 

In fact, she was seething. 

Luka took everything from her, that day. Her love, her place in their home. His adorable smile, his laugh... they weren't hers anymore. He only gave them to that- little gremlin. The parasite that took his love away from her, her precious nickname given to their daughter. 

Nobody got to be Luka's princess except Vanessa herself. Never again.

She lost the custody battle and her efforts to take Luka's obsession away from him, but she was going to make sure he lost so much more.

Vanessa waited in the autumn breeze, her fingers clenching and unclenching around the coffee cup. Chestnut-infused Columbian. His favorite. A sister cup sat opposite the table, waiting for him. If he was brave enough to show his face. .

(DeusExMakena)  He could see her from his car as he pulled into the parking space, sitting at a table by the large window at the front of the coffee shop. How long had it been now? Around five years, right? Hattie was barely a year old when they split.

He used to get so excited about meeting her, being in her presence, making her smile... and now the very thought of just getting out of his car and making eye contact with her left a pit in his stomach. As much as he'd loved this woman in the past, the way she treated their newborn daughter.... he had to stop thinking about it. Starting this meeting out in an angry mood wouldn't be a good idea.

With a sigh he finally willed himself to leave the vehicle, and just as he looked up their eyes met. The pit in his stomach deepened as he walked up to the cafe doors.

(MysticDoodles) The ice crept up her neck again. Vanessa forced it down, and put up a smile. No reason to start this off as cold as the ice in her veins. 

 Luka can see from her attire that she's doing rather well- financially, anyway. A thick coat against the autumn chill- or maybe from her heart, so closed off- and a scarf stuffed into her bookbag. Her mother must have improved her stipend, now that they split. What a beastly woman. It's pointless to ponder what-ifs at this point, but maybe if Vanessa's mother had been someone else... no. No point.

 With one hand, she gestures to the chair opposite her. Empty and waiting. "Hello, Luka. I got your favorite. You're doing well?" 

 ...the tenor isn't as friendly as it sounds, and feels more plastic than her smile appears.

(DeusExMakena) He hesitates, looking around the venue at the other tennants before wordlessly taking the seat across from her, mostly staring at the coffee cup in front of him.

Why is he having such a hard time looking at her?

"I'm... fine," he manages to force out as he takes the cup in both hands. Come on, man just get this over with and you can go home. "So uh, what brings you here?"

He wishes he could kick himself in the face for how out of place he feels, right now. What do you even say to someone you haven't seen in years, when the last time you saw them had been after an intense battle over the custody rights of the child you fought so hard to protect?

At least the warmth of the cup in his hands provides him with some reassurance.

(MysticDoodles) Something in Vanessa's smile twitches, but it's gone before he can really tell what it was.

"Oh- I just wanted to chat, catch up on old times, you know? I'm guessing the bar exam went well?"

...

Awkward silence, as Vanessa turns her smile away. She lifts her own coffee cup to her lips and takes a long drink, looking at the pavement.When she sets it down, there's a brief moment where her fingertips looked blue. It soon fades back into perfectly trimmed nails.

"...you know why I called you here, Luka. Don't make me lie to you." Her voice grows quiet, though pensive or frustrated is difficult to parse. "You were always better at lying, anyway."

(DeusExMakena) He squints slightly at that last remark and has to do enrything in his power to hold his tongue.

"I dont, actually. With the way things ended the last time we saw eachother, I was almost sure that would be it." he says, probably with a bit more venom in his tone than he should have used, but he was here for less than 10 minutes, now, and he could already feel his patience waning.

"But if you're really just here to reconnect, you'll have to forgive me" he takes a moment to swirl the cup in front of him before lifting it towards his mouth "I'm not very good at small-talk."

Chestnut-infused Columbean bean. Cream and Sugar. So nice to know that she never forgot.

(MysticDoodles) Vanessa smiles as he takes a drink. It's gone by the time he removes the cup again.

"...sorry," she says. Her stony expression shifts into a frown. This wasn't how she expected this conversation to go- but really, she had been expecting nothing, so no pain or gain thus far. "I'm not being very polite, am I? I guess I just- missed you, Luka. It's very different, going back to my mother's apartment after-... well. Being with you."

...

Another quiet sip. Vanessa runs her finger on the plastic cap.

"...do you miss the nights after we studied, when we'd just sit on the couch together and watch garbage movies?"

Before Harriet came along, she didn't say aloud.

(DeusExMakena) Of course he did, he loved her. And as much as he'd love to revisit those moments, to relive the sense of elation he felt when he got her to laugh over awkward acting and nonsensical writing... He just couldn't forgive her for what she did.

He sighs, opting to indulge in her to see where she's going with this.

"Yeah," He takes another sip, looking back down at the table "Sometimes I still wonder why that had to stop."

(MysticDoodles) There's no way he misses the way her fingers tighten on the paper coffee cup. Especially since it's accompanied by an audible pop of paper crumpling in a half inch, and liquid sloshing within.

"They did stop, Luka."

How could he be so blind?

"They stopped when you stopped spending them with me. You spent all your time with our daughter, and not with the loving wife who gave her to you. Don't you see how unfair that is? I deserved your time, too."

Vanessa sighs, her words almost chastising. It reminded of the times she shifted into 'disappointed mother' mode around Harriet. Their one year old, at the time, who didn't understand consequences for things like dropping a toy in the sink. She even had the nerve to sound hurt as she speaks those words.

(DeusExMakena) He is absolutely apalled.

"I-" he doesnt know why he cant find the words to respond. His eyes wide and his eyebrows furrow as he glares directly at her. He shouldnt be surprised by this, really, he saw this coming. Five years, and some things will just never change.

Luka pinches the bridge of his nose, he MARRIED this woman.

"I'm sorry, are we- are we really doing this again?" He sets his coffee cup on the table with a little more force than he wanted to, "You do realize you're getting jealous over a literal one-year old that we both agreed that we wanted to have. I'm her father, I'm sorry, again, for doing my job and raising our child."

(MysticDoodles) Vanessa's long-suffering expression hardens back into stone, pouting out her lip as once more, Luka shows no signs of budging on his stance. How very lawyerlike of him. To the bitter end, he would fight for his side of the case against the opposition. She wished they didn't have to be on opposite sides, anymore, yet here she was for the second time.

"Is it so wrong that I wanted to spend more time with my husband? All toddlers need to learn to share, anyway." Vanessa shrugs, as if this were no big deal. "You never spent evenings with me, anymore, Luka. Every night that you came back from graduate classes and networking with firms, you would go right to her. The honeyed words for me didn't come until dinner, if they came at all. And don't talk to me like I wasn't a good mother- I kept her out of trouble during the day, whenever I was out of rotation."

...

"How is my little Harriet doing? It's been so long since you've squirreled her away."

(DeusExMakena) No. No, no, no, he's not doing this again

"You..." He tries to hold his tongue, but peck, he doesnt want to deal with this right now. He feels his hands ball into fists "No. I'm sorry, no, you don't get to ask how my daughter is doing. You had every opportunity to join us, no one was stopping you from being happy but yourself! You wanna talk about sharing? Then why are you throwing a fit over a over a child spending time with her father?"

 ...

"She wanted a relationship with you, you know. It's... really hard having to explain to a five-year-old that she doesnt get to see her mother because she was too immature to realize 'oh hey! I could hang out with both my daughter AND my husband at the same time!'" He says that last bit in a mocking tone as he picks up his coffee and goes in for another sip, glaring straight at his ex-wife with pure exasperation.

(MysticDoodles) There he goes again. His daughter.

This time, Vanessa doesn't look away as she returns the glare. The medical graduate holds unflinching eye contact as she lifts her own cup and downs half the contents. Trying to make a statement, maybe? She always did have issues with competition.

"...so where does that leave us, then? You drink the coffee I got you, and walk away? Are you really so set on burning this bridge, Luka? Things can go back to the way they were, if you really want it that way. My stipend will get us through the rest of exams, and then we can live a good life together - high paying jobs, a comfortable apartment, as many dates and trashy movie nights as we want. Doesn't that sound wonderful?"

...she didn't say a word about five-year-old Harriet.

(DeusExMakena) Luka takes a moment to stare at her, eyes half-lidded and tired.

He picks up the cup and downs the rest of his coffee, before placing it back on the table and standing up from his seat, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Allow me to light the match for you."

With that, he turns towards the door, ready to leave. Why would he feel bad about burning a bridge that leads nowhere?

(MysticDoodles) Luka can hear the squeal of the metal chair legs as Vanessa stands abruptly from her seat. There's no click of heels on riverstone, but he knows she's got her fists clenched at her sides, watching him. She always did that when she was angry. Maybe this time she'd have some ice on her wrists, now that her abilities were public. She'd put less effort into hiding it after the court case, anyway.

"YOU'RE MAKING A MISTAKE!" Vanessa yells after him as he continues, stride unbroken. "You'll regret this! You won that case, but you'll always be my prince, and I'll always be your princess!"

But legally, she couldn't touch him, now. Luka and Harriet were no longer family. He knew that, and she knew he did.

...

Oh well.

The door closes with a crnk-ling of the bell, and the background noise of the cafe starts to fade back into her awareness. Or lack thereof. Everyone nearby was staring, not that she cared.

Stiffening her upper lip, Vanessa grabs her bag and loops it back over one shoulder. She pats the side, removing the scarf off the copy of 'Ancient Botanicals & You' she'd found at the antique bookshop, and tying the garment back around her neck. With one hand she picks up Luka's cup, and looks inside.

Empty.

A smile traces her lips as she takes it along with her own, and tosses them both into the trash can.

Now all she had to do was wait and see.

[missmonsters2]

Between the Lines || III

PAIRING: Steve Rogers & Fem!Reader (Platonic) / Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader / Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader / Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Vampire AU. Life has changed drastically since the 1600s. Things are always on the move, and you’ve been very careful to not get on SHIELDs radar. Living on the down-low owning a café, you’re content to live out a quiet existence. That is until the Avengers enter your life.

[Set after the New York Invasion, in CAWS, and goes up to AoU. Canon divergent after.]

Warnings: This series will contain smut(**), poly-relationship, and dark themes.

Note: Things..are happening. Please let me know if you want to be on the taglist for this fic :)!

PART I || PART II

PART III of XX

Count: 3311

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The following week was routine once more. Natasha didn't revisit the café, which you couldn't tell if you felt relief or not. David did lecture that you had to be more careful because it was most likely that Black Widow was looking into your background. He wasn't worried she'd find anything, but one can never be too careful.

Steve stopped by the café less too, as they now hung out outside the café more regularly. You had finally given in and hired two more people to the café and promoted Sarah to the manager position, so you didn't have to spend too much time there yourself. You essentially only came in when you knew Steve was going to be in...or maybe on the off chance Natasha would come in again.

Allison's mother was finally discharged from the hospital, but with all the missed time from work, you still found yourself looking after the young girl while her mother picked up extra shifts—not that you minded.

It was currently the weekend, and you had planned to take Allison to the park for a picnic and some games. You had asked Steve to tag along if he wasn't busy, but it turns out that he did have work that day. He seemed really crushed that he wasn't going to be able to go, but you had assured him it would be fine, and they could get together another time.

It was strange. They weren't dating or anything, definitely just friends. But the last time they had gone out together with Allison, the number of strangers who commented they looked like a beautiful family made you panic a bit, especially with the wistful look on Steve's face. It seemed like he was thinking about other things as people made those comments, though, not necessarily wistful to have a family with you.

And you knew—about this lost love, about Peggy Carter.   

The poor man seemed unable to move on while wanting to, but then feeling guilty about it. Since you were supposed to pretend not to know anything, it wasn't like you could talk to him about it. So, they were stuck in this weird limbo.

"Lainey, can we please get peaches?"   

You immediately brought your attention back to Allison, who you had in your shopping cart with multiple things strewn in for their picnic date.    

You grinned at the kid, "Alright, put the puppy face away, you're killing me here. We can definitely get some peaches."   

As the two of you stood in front of the peaches, you meticulously picked out peaches as Allison animatedly recalled a story.   

"Really? How interesting," you hummed to Allison.   

"Quite a cute one you've got there."   

The gruff voice brought your attention away from the peach. You looked up to see a man in his late 30s standing next to your cart with a basket.    

"Thanks," you said politely but curt.   

"My name's Glenn. I just wanted to say hi," He gave you a flirty grin and held out his hand.    

"Hi," you shook his hand politely as he stared at your gloved hands.   

"Cold?" He asked.   

"Something like that," you said with a wry grin.   

"Anyways," you said with an eyebrow raised at the stranger, "We've got to head off now, nice to meet you."   

Just as you were turning away with the cart, the man grabbed you by the arm to stop you.   

"Wait!"    

You clenched her jaw, turning back to him, eyes darkening, and just as you were about to speak a command, someone grabbed his arm and gripped it tightly enough to make the man let go. You blinked, your eyes clearing as you looked over to see Natasha standing there, her jaw set in a tight line and eyes entirely calm.   

"I think you should leave now," her voice was low, and she gripped the man's arms tightly enough for him to wince before she let go with a fling.    

The man looked like he wanted to say something, but there must've been warning bells in his head when he looked at Natasha, so he grumbled and turned to leave.   

Natasha turned her attention back over to you, eyeing the kid from the side. Steve definitely did not mention that you had a kid.   

"Natalie! What a surprise. Thanks for that, really," you said sincerely, a happy grin on your face.   

"No worries," Natasha shook her head with a wave of her hand.   

"You're not working today?" You asked curiously. It was only about one in the afternoon.   

Natasha grinned. "Got off early today," she said simply.   

"Lainey...peach..." Allison whined slightly, her lips jutting out in a pout. You turned over with a slight chuckle and roll of your eyes.   

"Alright, alright, I've got the treasure in tow, we can go." You turned back to Natasha, biting your lip slightly. It was a long shot, but why not. Sometimes it was better to keep people like Natasha close to ward off suspicion.   

"Listen, I don't know if you're busy today. We're about to head to Central Park for a picnic. Steve couldn't make it, but would you...would you like to join us?"   

It was a lot to ask someone who you've spoken to just once, even though it was a lengthy time. Natasha considered it for a moment with a tilt her head.    

"I'd love to," she said after a moment. If the opportunity to get to know the mysterious girl presented itself, why not?   

You smiled, "Great! We'll meet you there. Bring anything you'd like, but I do have a lot of food and drinks."   

With that, you went separate ways before shortly meeting up at the park again. You made small talk as you put out a picnic blanket and set everything down. Natasha helped carry some things, and as they sat down, Allison already pulling the kite that you packed.   

"Oh, hold on, I'm just going to get her set up," you said, walking off with the bouncing child.   

Natasha watched from a distance, arms crossed as she sat with her legs pressed together and on her side.   

She thought about calling Steve to see what the deal was with the kid but decided against it since she didn't want to end up answering the hundreds of questions the guy would have about seeing you. Allison didn't quite look like she was yours as the two of you shared different hair and eye colors.  

Maybe a niece?   

Before she knew it, you were back and taking a seat with a small huff.    

"Tired?" Natasha asked with a grin.   

You gave her a wry grin back, "Think I'd be used to that bundle of energy now, but she definitely keeps me on my toes."   

"Is she yours?" Natasha asked with a tilt of her head.   

You shook your head, feeling like a broken record with how much you had to repeat things.

"Oh, no. She's my neighbor's kid. She's a single mom and just got out of the hospital. They don't have any other family in the city, so I offered to watch her. Now, her mom is picking up some extra shifts to make up for what she's missed, so I watch her when needed."   

Natasha gave a small gentle smile. "You have a lot of free time?"   

You shrugged, "Well, I did end up hiring more people and promoted my one employee to be a manager. So, yeah, I guess I do have more free time now."   

Natasha hummed. "I guess your side book rentals does make a good profit after a certain point."   

You laughed, "Sure does! I'm like a blockbuster."   

"You do know they went out of business, right?" Natasha said with a raise of her eyebrow and a smirk.   

"I'll become Netflix then," you replied right back without missing a beat. It caused Natasha to chuckle. With that, you pulled out a thermos and some paper cups.   

"Coffee?" You asked, and Natasha nodded. You handed the redhead a cup, and the aroma already made Natasha feel warm.    

"Mmm," Natasha purred at the taste. "Seriously, there's got to be a secret ingredient in this coffee. I refuse to believe you can just make it this good."   

You jokingly looked affronted. "Well, suck on it. I do just make it that good."   

You pulled out the peaches that you bought, wiping them clean with a wet paper towel, and began to cut it with a knife. Natasha watched, again, with the black gloves but also that it was clear that you were experienced with holding a knife as you cut it with ease and quickly. You took out the pit and shaved off peach skin into a plastic bag and put the sliced peaches in a container.   

"Allison!" You called out. The little girl looked over and beamed with pure happiness as she trotted over for the fruit.   

"Thanks, Lainey!" Allison made a move to grab a slice, but you grabbed the girl's hand gently.   

"Hold it there, my little criminal. The last thing we need is sticky fingers. Here, use a fork."   

Allison grinned as she grabbed the utensil with the fruit already on it and took a bite. She eyed Natasha, and the redhead smiled at her.   

"Are you friends with Steve?" Allison asked, remembering that you told Natasha that Steve couldn't make it.   

Natasha looked taken aback slightly before smiling at the kid. "Yeah, we're friends."   

Allison simply nodded but didn't ask any more questions, which Natasha found a little strange.   

"Okay," she said simply. Maybe the kid was assessing her?   

"Do you like peaches?" Allison asked, and Natasha blinked. She should be more used to this, with Clint having kids and all.   

"Yeah," Natasha replied with ease. "They're delicious."   

Allison grinned, and Natasha felt like she passed some sort of test.    

"Great!" Allison exclaimed, passing over her container with some peaches left. "You can have some of my peaches. I'm going to go play now. If you play with me later, I'll tell you some funny stories about Lainey."   

You looked in disbelief as you looked at the child, "Don't you dare, Allie."    

Allison stood up, grabbing the frisbee, spotting some other children in the field. She laughed, looking at Natasha once more and winked as she ran off.   

Natasha had to put her hand over her mouth as she tried to control her laughter. You glared playfully at the redhead.   

"I can't believe I was just used as leverage for your participation," you muttered.   

"Why? You got some really embarrassing stories?" Natasha smirked.    

You merely pursed your lips together and pretended to zip your lips, and Natasha found herself relaxing a little more. She really should use this opportunity to find out more about you, but she found that it was just natural to be the moment with you.   

But as you handed her a cut sandwich that had a fried cutlet in it with a mystery sauce, Natasha found it was the time to ask about the gloves.   

"Are you a germaphobe? Or perpetually cold?" Natasha found that the weather itself was warm, no need for gloves. She knew some people with arthritis would wear gloves, but the type that you wore didn't seem like it was for warmth.   

"Kind of a germaphobe," You answered, without missing a beat. You took a bite of the sandwich, leaning a little back.   

"Nothing extreme, but working at the café and touching money has gotten me sick a couple times. I don't like touching things directly if I can help it."    

Natasha nodded, enjoying the sandwich. She didn't question it too much when there were people like Tony Stark out there with weird quirks himself.   

"So, I guess since you know I own the café, what do you do?"   

"I'm a personal assistant for Stark Industries," Natasha answered, eyeing your reaction. You didn't seem to react much.   

"Oh, cool. Must keep you busy if you work for Tony."   

"You know Tony Stark?" Natasha asked with an eyebrow raised, and you gave her a look.   

"Who doesn't know Tony Stark? Even I, a hermit, would know."   

Natasha smiled, but she felt it. There was something off about you. Knowing Tony Stark meant knowing about him being an Avenger. So, you had to know about other members who were publicly known. Steve had been doing so many interviews.   

But Steve wouldn't appreciate her asking outright.   

Even if she wanted to, Allison had come back from playing frisbee. You gave the girl a hand wipe and handed her a sandwich and juice that was in a bottle to avoid spilling.   

"Alright, kid. We got enough time for one more game, and we're gonna head out. Your mom said she's going to be home for dinner. Choose wisely."    

Allison pursed her lips, gripping her bottle before she seemed to come to a decision.   

"Jenga! I'm going to win this time."    

You smirked, "alright."   

Allison immediately moved over to Natasha. "Can we team up? Lainey never loses in this game!"   

Natasha blinked, looking over to you, who nodded. The redhead looked back to the kid and smiled. "Alright, we'll secure victory this time."   

"In your dreams! Allie will spill my dirty secrets, so there will be no mercy."   

With the game set up, they began. You were pretty good, but Natasha was just as good. The redhead noticed that you had incredibly steady hands. As you took pieces out, your hand was impossibly still.    

Eventually, they had gotten to where the stack was pretty unsteady, and a lot of the levels had only the middle pieces, including the bottom. It was coming down to that even trying to take any side pieces would result in the stack collapsing. As it was Natasha's turn, she eyed the stack, calculating her best bet. It would have to be the bottom piece. She steadied her hand as she latched onto the piece, and with precision and quickness, she yanked out the piece, the stack moving down perfectly without even swaying.    

Allison cheered, and Natasha smirked at you. You didn't even look phased. You eyed the stack, and just like Natasha, it would be foolish to try to grab a side piece. 

This was it.    

Natasha watched in disbelief as she saw you eyeing a middle piece that was literally in the middle level of the stack with no side pieces.   

No, you wouldn't.   

Would you?  

There was no way you could grab that without having the stack fall over.   

You lifted your gloved hand and put your fingers in a flicking motion, and with just the right amount of force and speed, you flicked the piece out, and it flew right into Natasha. The stack lowered another level and barely swayed as it settled.   

You looked at Natasha smugly.   

"ты серьезно," Natasha muttered are you serious in Russian and she swore, the slight twitch in your lip made Natasha believe that you knew what she said, but as quick as she saw it, it was gone.   

"Ugh," Allison groaned, taking out a piece, making the entire stack collapse. "I'll never beat you, Lainey."   

You laughed as you collected the pieces to put away. "Practice, sweetpea. You can challenge me in the next lifetime."   

You cackled as Allison playfully threw a piece at you in retaliation.    

"Don't worry, we'll get her next time," Natasha said to comfort the young girl who leaned against her and sighed.   

"There's a next time?" You asked playfully, and Natasha tilted her head.   

"Should there be?" The redhead asked back cryptically.   

You licked your bottom lip slightly, the action drawing Natasha's attention to it.   

"Yeah," You said finally. "We're friends, right?"   

Natasha nodded. "Yeah, friends."   

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It was a few days again before you saw Natasha at the café. She seemed to stop by more often now to pick up coffee but didn't have the time like Steve did to sit around and chat with you.   

It was fine by you, it seemed like Natasha did find you odd, but not to the point where she was investigating you.   

It was becoming a problem, though. You liked Natasha and Steve, liked spending time with them. But the more you did, the more you were putting yourself at risk, putting David at risk.    

You figured you would have to leave soon. Maybe tell them you had a family member in another country that was ill, and you needed to take care of them. Then, you would die in a fiery car crash with nothing to identify you but your dental records and disappear and start over with a new identity.   

It was another month that passed that neither Steve or Natasha showed up, and it worried you.   

Steve used to stop by 3-4 times a week and Natasha at least 3 times when she was free. You were aware that sometimes they would have missions, but they were always back within days, the latest a week.    

That night, you called David.   

"What's up? Great timing, I have some more news about The Winter Soldier and the descendants." You got an immediate reply.    

"Great, brief me on that later. I need you to look up something else. Something's wrong. I haven't seen Steve or Natasha in over a month. Can you find anything?"   

You could hear something like "good riddance" being mumbled, but you chose to ignore it.   

"Oh shit," David finally said.   

"What? What's wrong?"   

"Steve has been listed as a fugitive. It looks like SHIELD is compromised by HYDRA. Black Widow is most likely helping him, and Nick Fury is dead." 

It was quiet on the other line for a bit, you could hear him clicking on his keyboard.   

You were shocked, and worry overcame you. Steve was a fugitive?    

"Ah shit, this was what I wanted to tell you. The Winter Soldier is in America, caught him on a couple street cameras. He killed Nick Fury."   

"Is the man actually dead?" Based on your past experience, there was no way the man would die that easily.   

"I'll have to look more into that and get back to you. I don't know. There's a lot of shady shit going on within SHIELD. It doesn't look good right now for them."   

"Where are they? Can you find them?"   

"Hold on, let me find any live feed from street cameras." 

The minutes passed by agonizingly as you heard typing on the keyboard and the mouse clicking.

"Okay, I've got visuals. I'll send the details to your phone. What are you going to do?" 

You were already changing and packing anything you might need.

"Well, I know The Winter Soldier doesn't play around. I can't just let them deal with whatever's happening. I need you to send more intel to my cell, okay?"

David was silent. "You know this means you're exposing yourself, don't you?"   

You sighed. "Yes, but...I don't know...I care about them enough."

David let out a huge frustrated sigh. "Fuck sake's, fine. I'll send you some details. You better hope our asses don't get imprisoned."

"Well, if Fury is really dead, we might not have to worry about that too much. Worst case scenario, we can work for Stark."   

"Oh, so we just really exposing our asses to everyone now."

"Well, I highly doubt we'll be able to keep our existence a secret to just two Avengers."   

"I hate you."   

You let out a chuckle as David hung up. You sent a text to Allison's mother that you would be out of town indefinitely handling some personal business, but you left some money and a babysitter's number in Allison's drawer when you were over the other day in case of emergencies.   

Grabbing your car keys, you left.   

Somehow, you knew you were going to change everything by doing this, but maybe that wouldn't be the end of the world.  

PART IV

[ruewrites]

Hi, i hope you are doing good. So i had a request, i really like angst and i was reading We're Blooming Togheter (its very good btw) And i was wondering if maybe you could write like an one-shot about Asmo and more about his last partners? Or maybe more about Lucifer taking care of the brothers at such a young age after being abandoned...i just really like angst.

Revisiting Past Ghosts

AO3

WBT

Ship: Solomon/Asmo, Lucifer/Diavolo (more near the end?)

Word Count: 3113

Warnings: Some violence (skip the third snippit)

A/N: Hi Anon! I’m happy that you enjoyed WBT! I really loved writing it! I’m also always willing to write more about it (I want to write more about it too). This ask actually inspired two one-shots? I’m not going to post the second one yet (I want to finish some other requests first) but I hope you like this first one. I was actually playing with some ideas about writing some more for the au and your comment pushed me to do it, so thank you! I hope you enjoy this!

Asmo remembered his first girlfriend finding out about him. Part of him had always known about his own affections,  but it still made him nervous to tell her. She’d seemed so accepting, so supportive. But Asmo quickly regretted the decision. She’d already had a jealous streak. He knew this, and this just seemed to make her lash out at anyone that even dared to look at Asmo in the halls, including his best friend.  It started out as little things that could be excused as accidents, but then Solomon’s number had been blocked on his phone.  

The only reason that they’d started dating in the first place was because they were in similar social circles. She was cute, Asmo was cute, it made sense. He’d been interested at first, but the more he learned about her personality, the less interested he became. Despite how perfect they may have looked to their peers, they clashed on more subjects than they agreed on. 

Their breakup had been ugly, Asmo wouldn’t deny that.They’d gone back and forth fighting about little things that didn’t matter in the long run. 

He’d thought it was over, until he’d seen Solomon’s vandalized locker.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, a sickness stirring in his stomach. The two of them stayed after school to try to fix whatever damage they could.  There had been horrible notes, drinks thrown onto his text books, lipstick smeared over his notes. Asmo would have thought he would’ve been the target of her anger, but unfortunately this didn’t surprise him. 

“You aren’t responsible for her actions.”

“But she’s obviously still hostile because of me.”

“Stop blaming yourself, you didn’t ruin my locker.” Solomon let out a huff and pushed more sludge into a trash can, “You can’t fix her attitude.”

True but Asmo still felt bad. Things were quiet for a moment as Asmo tried to escape his guilt as he slipped paper towels in between the pages of Solomon’s notes. She’d been flooding his comments, but he didn’t think she’d ever do something like this once they broke up…

He felt Solomon nudge him with his foot, bringing his attention back up. “If you still really feel bad, you could invite me for dinner. You said Lucifer was cooking right?” he smiled. 

Was it simple? Yes. Did it make Asmo feel a little better and maybe even steal a laugh from him? Also yes.

His ex had gotten a new boyfriend eventually. Not that Asmo cared.

Every now and again they would still hiss at each other in the hallway. They’d gotten into a few more fights, mainly over Solomon, and each time Solomon had been the one to pull Asmo away. He hadn’t handled it the best he could have, but it was in the past now. It happened. He didn’t really remember when it all stopped. Eventually they had just sizzled out, going from a raging fire to nothing but smoke and ash.

********

Solomon had just gone home from dropping his assignments off. He promised he’d come back tomorrow, but only if Asmo wanted him too. Asmo had nodded, eyes still red and pillow stained with tears. He genuinely didn’t know what he’d do without Solomon. 

As soon as he was gone, Asmo was left alone with his thoughts again. He knew Solomon had to go home, but he wished he didn’t have to. He didn’t want to be alone. He should go back to school, he really should, but he wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to see his ex. He sobbed into his pillow, gripping it tightly, feeling the fabric become cold beneath his cheeks. It didn’t make sense. He didn’t understand. There wasn’t a reason. 

He did everything he could. He made himself pretty, he got him  the sweetest gifts he could think of, listened to him, cleared his schedule for him… Maybe it still hadn’t been enough. Maybe he could have done more, tried harder. He could have made himself prettier in the mornings or been a little more adoring. Now that it was over, Asmo was making a list of things he could have done better, but it was too late.

He could still remember the last conversation they had and how the bile rose in his throat.

“We need to break up.”

The words had caught Asmo off guard. Everything had seemed to be going fine. They’d never talked about any problems. As far as Asmo had known, they’d been a perfectly happy couple. They did everything happy couples were supposed to do. Asmo did everything a perfect boyfriend was supposed to do.

“But why?” he’d asked, voice already catching in his throat.

“Just ‘cuz Asmo.”

“But-”

“Just. ‘Cuz. Don’t make me spell it out for you.”

Asmo had been snapped at. Asmo hated being yelled at. It made his throat tighten and his body freeze. This wasn’t how this was supposed to be.

“You’re not dumb. You know why.”

But Asmo didn’t know why!

“Wait-”

“I need to go.”

Asmo could feel the mascara running down his face and taste it on his tongue, “Please don’t.”

“Lose my number Asmo.

Then Asmo had been alone. No reason. No explanation. He was just alone sobbing on the sidewalk, looking for an answer he would never get.

He’d been humiliated and broken and he wasn’t sure how to feel. Honestly, he probably would have stayed crying on the sidewalk if Solomon hadn’t found him.

He didn’t want to be alone. He wished Solomon didn’t have to head home.

His door cracked open ever so slightly, and footsteps crossed his room.

“There was ice cream left over in the freezer,” Lucifer seemed a bit awkward, as if he wasn’t sure what to say. He knew Asmo had been broken up with, but he wasn’t exactly sure what to say. It seemed like calling his ex some… choice words had been the wrong decision as Asmo had only cried even harder, defended his ex, and started to blubber about it being all his fault. From there Solomon had taken over and ushered Asmo upstairs.

He’d caught bits and pieces.

I wasn’t good enough. 

I wasn’t pretty enough.

I didn’t love enough.

I wasn’t perfect enough.

Lucifer heard a few other things, but all of these little untruths did nothing but make him angry. He knew his brother, and he knew none of those things were true. He’d seen Asmo interact with his partners, and he did nothing but love them. Perhaps he was a little biased, but he didn’t care.

Asmo sniffled and lifted his head. Ice cream didn’t sound too bad… He wasn’t sure how much of it he could eat, but it was a good breakup food. He sat up a bit and moved closer to his brother. The container was partially full and had brownie chunks mixed in. He leaned against Lucifer’s shoulder and sniffled.  

They sat there in silence,  Asmo wondering why he wasn’t good enough and Lucifer knowing he deserved better.

********

Lucifer was already tense. He could hear the rising voices from the living room. The couple clearly thought they were home alone. Voices rising in the heat of the moment, growing until they reached their inevitable crescendo.

Lucifer saw the slap before he heard it.

A hand brought down onto Asmo’s face. Eyes wide and full of hurt, shock, and embarrassment as tears welled and slowly overflowed onto the floor. He didn’t see Lucifer. It didn’t matter if Lucifer had met the man in his house before this moment. Now he was a stranger, and intruder. He was violating their space, and would be treated as such. 

Before he could disgrace Asmo furthur, Lucifer’s hands were dug into his collar and slamming him harshly against the wall. His vision was clouded with red, lips pulled back in a snarl. Bloodlust clouded his mind.

“How dare you lay a hand on him,” he snarled, grip tightening around his collar, “You have no right to hurt him in any way.”

“Wh-” 

“None.” 

Lucifer vaguely felt the tugging on the back of his clothes, Asmo’s voice no more than a bug flying in his ear. He dropped the man, making sure he stayed between him and his brother.  The fear that Lucifer saw would have been satisfying if not for the situation.

“Leave. If I ever catch you in my home again I will be the last thing you see.”

The man bolted out of the house, Cerberus barking as the door slammed behind him. Lucifer couldn’t relax even with his brother’s soon to be ex gone. His blood was boiling, and Asmo was squirming under his gaze. 

Asmo didn’t think Lucifer was home, he hadn’t thought anyone was home. It was the only reason his boyfriend had wanted to come over in the first place, he wasn’t a big fan of Lucifer or any of Asmo’s brothers really. It was a red flag, one Asmo had seen in the distance. He thought that would resolve over time. Apparently he was wrong.

“He’s not welcome in this family,” Lucifer growled, “No one is to treat you like that.”

Understood?

Lucifer’s tone made Asmo’s skin crawl. He was still trying to process what had happened. His cheek stung, and his eyes were watering. What had they been fighting over? He couldn’t remember. Were they even fighting or had they just started yelling?

Asmo couldn’t help but shrink into himself.

 “Yes.”

His words were soft and barely audible. His mind couldn’t even think about texting Solomon. Where would he even begin?

Lucifer paced around the living room for a moment, muttering to himself. He sounded almost animalistic, so unlike Lucifer. It scared him, the entire situation sent Asmo into a spiral and he wasn’t sure where to go from here. He flinched when Lucifer touched him, and seeing that seemed to make his anger flare again.

Lucifer stared at the mark that started to mar Asmo’s skin before shaking his head and heading off into the kitchen. He returned shortly after and pressed a cold ice pack to Asmo’s face. Hours of silence ticked by. 

Lucifer wanted to press charges.

Lucifer wanted to go after him himself.

Lucifer wanted to bury him deep in the ground with the rest of the spineless worms. 

Asmo told him not to. 

They’d fought about it for a few days, and the relationship had continued for a little longer after that. But eventually, both the argument and the relationship ended.

*********

Lucifer had been looking over one of his cases when Barbatos paged him down. Something about someone wanting to talk with him. While he’d never admit it, his mind hadn’t been focused on his work lately. Something was going on with his brothers, specifically Asmodeus. He’d seemed unusually twitchy and eager up until recently. Now he wouldn’t come out of his room, and he could hear him sniffling. 

 Diavolo’s booming laugh bounced off the walls and was the first thing Lucifer heard before he saw anyone.  Perhaps Diavolo wanted to take the three of them out to lunch again, where Lucifer would then continuously have to check the time and remind Diavolo about PDA as well as Barbatos’ presence.

However, when Lucifer came to Barbato’s desk, he saw a third person that he wasn’t expecting. 

Solomon looked a little frazzled underneath his normally cool composure. He stood stiffly next to Barbatos as Diavolo chattered away. Luciferer spied something pink clasped between fidgeting fingers. 

Barbatos was the first to notice Lucifer’s presence. He made his way over to his side and glanced over towards Solomon and Diavolo. 

“He seems nervous.”

“I noticed.”

“What do you think it’s about?”

 Lucifer hesitated, thinking over his options. Well, he had one idea. If he was correct, it would certainly make everything else fall into place much easier.

“I guess we’ll have to find out won’t we?”

Solomon smiled as he saw Lucifer approaching, causing Diavolo to turn around with a wide grin on his face. 

“Lucifer!” Diavolo chirped, moving closer. He went in for a kiss, but Lucifer stopped him. 

“Later. We have company,” he smiled, patting his boyfriend’s pouting cheek before turning to Solomon. “It’s good to see you Solomon, it’s been a while since we’ve had you at our dinner table.”

“Ah, well, Asmodeus and I have both been busy. We’ve been spending a lot of study time over at my apartment,” he said. Then a small silence stretched on. Solomon looked down at the pink envelope in his hands for a moment and sucked in his breath, “I was actually wondering if you could give something to him.”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. He could feel Diavolo and Barbatos behind him, their intrigue was palpable. Lucifer would be lying if he said he also wasn’t curious about what Solomon had to say. “And why can’t you just give it to him yourself?” he asked.

Solomon stopped for a moment, eyes glancing down at the envelope before smiling.

“Well, I’ve been hiding them in secret and leaving them anonymous, so what fun would it be to just give it to him?”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow and Solomon’s face fell. 

“He also hasn’t been answering my texts,” he admitted, “I just need him to meet me in the park tonight. I-”

Diavolo’s eyes lit up, “Oh Lucifer! I didn’t realize your brother had a boyfriend, and one with such romantic ideas at that.”

Solomon’s face lit up red and his eyes shifted to the side. So, there was something going on between his brother and his brother’s childhood best friend. His memories flashed to Asmo’s exes, the things they’d put him through, the pain they’d caused him. He didn’t want Asmo to live through any of that again, he didn’t want things to go wrong and he certainly didn’t want his brother to go through more heartbreak.

“What if I just told him? You’ve been sending him letters for a while, why not just get it over with?” Lucifer asked. 

Diavolo cut in before Solomon could even give his argument. “Lucifer, why don’t you indulge him?” he asked, “You mentioned that Asmodeus loved romantic things like this. Plus it’s adorable. He’s made this elaborate little plan just for Asmodeus.”

Lucifer hesitated for a moment, thinking his decision over, eyes glued to the envelope. It did seem very… Asmodeus, but could he trust this little romance to not leave Asmodeus crushed? It was a gamble with his brother’s happiness, and the stakes were high.

“It does seem like something Asmodeus would enjoy,” Barbatos cut in, nodding towards the letter, “Plus, you can trust him with his own heart.”

But could he really?

A few more minutes ticked by, Lucifer played with his thoughts. Perhaps he had still been soured by his brother’s last boyfriend. The man hadn’t really left a good impression, and Lucifer didn’t want to see Asmo in that situation again. Asmodeus deserved to thrive and to be loved and cherished. He just wanted what was best for him.

“Alright, I’ll give it to him,” he decided. Solomon’s grin returned as he handed the envelope over. “But,” Lucifer continued, “You’d better treat him well, regardless of what happens. I won’t tolerate anyone disrespecting him.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Solomon smiled, “I promise I’ll take care of him.”

***********

It was late, but Lucifer couldn’t fall back asleep. He  picked up his phone to look at the time.

Three am. 

How was Asmodeus doing? Surely he and Solomon had gotten to their suite a while ago. Maybe he should give him a call. 

Turning onto his side, Lucifer propped himself up and stared at his husband for a moment. Diavolo was curled up on his side, softly snoring away. He wasn’t the most graceful sleeper, but it was still endearing in a way. It was still wonderfully Diavolo.

Kissing Diavolo’s cheek, Lucifer grabbed his phone before heading downstairs. It rang once. Then twice. He wondered for a moment if his brother would even pick up when a tired voice answered.

“Lucifer?”

“Hello Asmodeus,” Lucifer smiled, “Did you arrive alright?”

“Mmm, give me a second, we just… got to sleep.”

There was shifting on the other side of the line, followed by a second voice. It was slightly muddled, but Lucifer knew who it was.

“I’ll be right back Darling… It’s my brother… No no, not Mammon…. Yes Lucifer.... Go back to sleep, I’ll be back soon.”

There were a few other noises. Kisses perhaps? Then more shuffling and a door shutting.

“Sorry brother dearest, Solomon’s rather clingy when it comes to curling up,  I’m lucky I was able to escape to the porch.”

He sounded happy. It made Lucifer’s body relax and a soft smile spread across his face. Asmodeus was in good hands, he was safe, he was going to be cared for. He still remembered how happy Asmo had been showing off his ring, and how much happier he looked at his wedding. It made him feel at peace, knowing he was loved. 

“I assume you’re having a good time then?”

“Oh yes, all the unpacking is done, and we’re planning  on going out and exploring tomorrow,” he chirped.

“You mean you haven’t explored yet?”

“We were unpacking!”

“Unpacking doesn’t take that long Asmodeus.”

“Buuuuuuusssssyyyyyy,” Asmo sang, “Anyways, I’ll make sure to take lots of pictures tomorrow!”

“Good.”

I’m happy you found him.

Silence stretched between them for a moment. Lucifer could hear the ocean in the background.

“I should be getting back to bed, I have a wonderful husband waiting for me and a long day tomorrow.”

“Mmh, now that you mention it, I suppose I should be getting back to someone as well.”

I’m happy he makes you happy.

“Goodnight Lucifer, I love you!”

“Goodnight Asmodeus.”

Lucifer stared at the phone for a few moments more before going back to his bedroom where a warm bed and an adoring husband awaited him. Kissing Diavolo’s cheek once more, Lucifer settled back into bed, feeling his partner shift behind him.

Asmo looked up at the stars and took in the night air before wandering back inside. He barely had time to plug in his phone before Solomon was sucking him back into the bed and covering his skin with kisses. Honestly sometimes Asmo wasn’t sure what to do with all the love Solomon gave him, he doubted that he even deserved it at times. But as they laid together, Asmo knew that this was where he truly belonged. He’d finally found the one. Asmo had had good and bad partners come and go, but Solomon was the one who stayed.

[hopeassassin]

Rally’s Scribbles in the Work

So after that lovely anon blew my mind away with their kind words and wonderful support, and because I keep telling you guys about my writing plans without actually giving you even a teensy little detail, I have decided to stop being coy and actually likely get your hopes up a bit by dilvulging small details and bits of plots of what is currently going on in my G-Drive. 

This will be a brief recount of what I have currently baking in the AoMomo oven, so let’s dive right into it! Please note that the numbers are in no particular order - I just keep revisiting each of these stories and writing a bit more to them whenever I feel like it. So there’s no ranking and no importance, just a number to keep proper count.

1. “Knight of Renown” Dragons and Knighthood AU, based on that one AoMomo pic with Momo ithe Knight and Dragon Aomine that I reblogged a while back and I actually let me imagination go a bit too much in the tags. I ended up actually rather enjoying the premise I set up in the tags so I actually started writing that one out!  Completion rate at about: 5%? I’d say? Less? :D 

2. AoMomo Music AU - a dearly beloved project that I am pouring a lot of love and attentioin to. That’s why it’s coming along super slow. It’s been in the making since November and I chewed it and mulled through it so thoroughly that I’ve grinded to a halt with it. Intending for there to be 2 chapters, and I am at about 25-30% of chapter 1 currently ready currently. At the pace I’m going, it might be another full year before you actually get to see this bad boy up, but when you do, I’m sure you’ll see all the care and effort that went into making it perfect. Honestly, no joke here, I am intending for this to be one of my rare masterpieces in this tag. So I’m not gonna rush it!

3. AoMomo Car Accident AU where Daiki barely manages to save Satsuki from being run over by a hit-and-run and ends up being the one run over instead. This was my first piece of writing after coming back to AoMomo last summer and yet completion rate is a sad thing. I want it to be flawless, a perfectly agonizing, thrilling type of torturous read that gives you a great sense of relief by the end of it. Needless to say, the clusterfuck of negative feelings is a bit difficult to hold onto for a prolonged period of time and the work is coming along slowly. Planned at about 5 chapters, I have 2 complete ones and the 3rd one is at about ... 30%? Hopefully before this year’s whumptober, we’ll have a finished piece!

4. AoMomo bond character study, which went in a direction I did NOT expect nor intend. It was suppsoed to be an idea that you will see also listed below. But I started this one from their early childhood and somehow, instead of focusing on the kids and their bond and their weird interactions with each other and their first moments of realizing they are of opposite genders, it turned into something much too fun to let go of and the ideas for scenes just kept piling. It’s going to be a long one, very explorative and very in-depth character study on the bond between these two and how it changed over the years, and their first encounters with their sexuality inbetween (because that was really the main idea that I started with... xDDD;;;) Currently at 1 chapter complete, chapter 2 somewhere around 50-60% completion, and at least 6-7 chapters to come after that, soooo.... :’DDDD YEAH. THIS ONE AIN’T SEEING THE LIGHT OF DAY ANYTIME SOON.

5. AoMomo deciding to practice stuff on each other, because I am a sucker for this trope.THIS will be what the idea under previous number 4 was SUPPOSED to be like, but it instead spun out of control. So this one, under number 5, is going to be the smutty, idiots bumbling through physicality to discover that they actually have serious feelings for each other kind of piece. Chapters are planned at about at least 6-7 or so, but not my usual monstrocities! :D First we start with practice kissing, and we move our way up from there! 

6. “The Evil of Humanity” AU - a dystopian futuristic kinda mecha AU, sort of an amalgamation of some of my favourite anime in the genre - a bit of NGE, a bit of Gurren-Lagann, a lot of Darling in the Franxx rewrite and improvement, in distinctly AoMomo colors. I poured a lot of thought and love into initial outline of main moments for this one, and I really hope to make it an epic, thrilling action/adventure with a big dash of romance kind of read! Chapters currently not even planned properly, because I need to sit down and consider this seriously. It will definitely be more than 10-15 though, and they will be my usual chapter lengths so.... likely no time soon. :D 

7. Aomine Fanclub - I got a plot bunny some time ago and I shared it here and my friends were spurring me on with it, so I started trying it out a little more. I’ve written out like... maybe 30% of this one as well, but need to re-read and reconceptualize to get it back on track. The issue with this one is that I’m not really sure where I want to take it, thus it’s on the back burner at the moment.

8. KagaKuro AoMomo double-date kind of story, where Aomine is asking some curious questions of Taiga about going to America and pondering if any of his immediate friends know what Satsuki wants to do with her life. I’m really invested in this one but haven’t started properly writing it out yet beyond just sketching out the idea so I don’t forget it. (I’d say 1% complete here.) Really looking forward to using the idea of Kagami being super impressed with AoMomo perfect sync when playing as a team in arcade games!

9.Laws of Attraction Chapter 2 - You might be surprised at this, but I’m actually super invested in this one. Likely the reason why I am delaying so much working on it - I feel like all my great scene ideas are just too chaotic and I have a hard time starting the chapter flowing properly. I had like 4-5 false starts already and I’m feeling a bit skittish with picking it up. But I have such AMAZING concepts on where to take it after it revvs up the engine, so... Maybe sometime this year! Completion rate: 0% written, but at least about 30% ideas built up for the installment!

10. AoMomo college rooming together story - sort of an expansion on my fill for one of the prompts way back those years ago in AoMomo week. I really dig the concept and the trope of sharing spaces with someone you consider nothing more than a friend and then gradually learning to appreciate each other for something so much more. I am definitely doing this one some day, but not anytime soon, likely.

11. A random idea bit me the other day (read: a month ago) and I actually wrote out like... maybe 25% of it already as well. A random comment from Wakamatsu miffs Satsuki but then she realizes why he’s asking dumb questions and she comes to realize that something is wrong with the equation: either Dai-chan likes someone really close to them and she hasn’t realized, which is unlikely, or Dai-chan likes HER and is super blase about it in a way that betrays his feelings not at all, which is even more unlikely. Being a curious  individual, she sets out to find which it is! Some hilarity should ensue but mostly just some mess-with-Dai-chan fun!

12. Touou summer training camp at the sea - progress is practically 0, I wanted to write a summery piece and set my mind on this, but nothing beyond has come to me, so I’m not forcing it.

13. AoMomo cultural festival fic in second year of high school (meaning something approx end of Oct -> beginning of Nov.) with Daiki being in a distinctly Haruhu Suzumiya role at that festival (has anyone even seen this anime? I adored that episode to freaking bits, man, it’s engraved upon my soul) and singing Billy Idol’s “Rebel Yell” and one more song just like Haruhi did. And Satsuki just beholding the phenomenon he becomes in no time flat while he lays bare his passion for life for all the student body to see. Shippiness will happen in private afterwards!

14. You Can Leave Your Hat On Chapter 2 - Probably like 2-3 years ago while I was still in the damn woodwork and wrestling with real life and adulting being crap, I remembered this AU premise and I got super hyped on the idea of Club Owner Dai-chan being a flirt with innocent Satsuki who got dragged to his joined and fell in love at first sight with his shenanigans. I’ve already played around for like 7k words with the second chapter of this but I’m still not where I want to be at, so it will take a while longer to flesh it out.

15. Idol Worship - a story that I promised my mate aricana some 6 years ago the premise for which I am super hyped for but not quite engaging with it yet. The idea was that Momoi finally starts gettiing the dates she has been pesting Kuroko for for years, and Daiki feeling terrible about beholding that, whilst Kise is being pestered by Horikita Mai for a date and instead ditches her with Daiki because he knows his former Teikou classmate is a huge fan of her. Mai-chan isn’t particularly happy but somehow ends up enjoying her time with Daiki and starts considering actually pursuing him instead of Kise when she sees what an interesting soul he is, with the torch that he’s carrying for some girl in his life he doesn’t really talk about but is evident from the little things he drops off as hits. AoMomo shenanigans will start to ensue properly when Satsuki realizes that Daiki is actually having a close female friend who is not her but is Horikita Mai instead, Dai-chan’s perfect woman, practically. She doesn’t take well to the news and has to grapple with why that is! And what to do with these newfound frustrating emotions!

16. Obstruction of Justice Chapter 3 - MAYBE SOME DAY, I WILL GET TO WRITING THIS. Last summer I inteded to do just that but instead, Wild Side of Justice was born. And it became a spin off of sorts on its own. ORZ. I WILL FINISH THIS SOME DAY, I do have some plans for it and I do have the desire to pursue them. I just need to be in the right headspace for it ahsjkfhkjaf

17. A PWP story of Kagami arriving early for a practice match at Touou and somehow walking in on AoMomo getting busy with each other in very unexpected and explicit ways that Kagami did not see headed his way. Because, we need more PWP in this fandom, honestly.

18. And since we DO need more PWP, recently when checking the 30 lemons community on LJ (shut up, I’m not ancient, YOU’RE ANCIENT) I was wondering how exactly a smut plot around the “Taken by the Faceless Stranger” could work for Aomomo and I came up with this Masquerade ball that they end up both attending because of their friends and meeting each other and hitting off fantastically just chatting the night and then banging in a niche in the long castle-like premise of the ball. :’DDDD Cuz it’s me and if I don’t have something like that in the works, you know i’m likely sick.

ALL OF THESE I am planning on eventually finishing one day. ONE DAY!

For now they are in various states of completion and in various stages of being cared for and improved on with more ideas added and fleshed out.

I am not joking when I say I am very invested in this fandom. I just have difficulty getting to writing out these ideas when I spend like 60% of my free time playing my mobile games. :D 

So there you have it. I didn’t want to say anything about these because 1) I don’t want to get your hopes up. You Can Leave Your Hat On 2, for one, has been in the making for 3 years, very on-again-off-again kind of way, and I just... can’t do that to you guys. I have decided against posting any incomplete fics so I don’t torture you guys and my muse doesn’t abandom me forever for them. So when something is complete, it gets posted promptly for your viewing pleasure!

And 2) If I divulge too much of the story, I feel like my hype of it may disappear completely. Ehh, my muse is a willful creature, what can I tell you... 

So let’s hope at least SOME of these get to see the light of day soon!

[tribus-mantodea]

[ Lingering attachments. ]

Right! I’m sure there’s an AU about this somewhere already that I haven’t found but you know what, I’ll have my take on it regardless.

This post is just some considerations on the AU where the Traitor Lord lives once more through lifeblood shenanigans. (Awkwardly dubbed as “Lastlifeborn AU” because... it’s the Lastborn’s last life. Yeah, I know.)

I also have no idea how to interpret lifeblood so I’ll put that matter aside.

It would be a bit fun to entertain the idea of the dream-ghosts of Cloth and Traitor “speaking” after their due battle just before she finished savoring the moment. While he does hold some implacable resentment (embrace the infection to become stronger and yet for what? being unable to better protect his kin like he had intended? what was it that put these silly-meaningless thoughts in his head, his heart?), he does hold respect for Cloth and the Ghost first and foremost for beating him in an impromptu duel.

“I’m glad to have fought a mighty warrior like you.” “...” (But he wasn’t one. Unlike the other Lords, he had cheated and lost his way.) “For one outside of my tribe, you battled well.” There’s a lot of awkward pauses and general recollection, the Traitor trying to sort out what had just occurred and what had happened before all this.

Maybe the Ghost comes back in time to not both of them, but at least the Traitor staring at both his victor’s and his own’s bodies. It would seem to remember something—pulling out the Mark of Pride charm and showing it to him. See conflict cross his features, how he nodded as if he then understood something it didn’t.

And the Ghost is quite the mender of a bug itself. It’s compelled to try and resolve something that seems rather unresolvable; it breaks cocoons and cradles all these wiggling lifeseeds in arms and forcibly attempts to get the Traitor’s husk moving again. Said dream-ghost Traitor at first regarding the situation dismissively before growing into a strained panic and worry of “Cease your actions! What compels you to desecrate my corpse—?...” “Just how many did you manage to bring with your small stature...?” (It would’ve been more deserved if his body were to be broken into segments much like the others. His mind feels hazier as if overcome with fatigued the longer it tries, and...)

What. Why is this little bug back in his view and why does he feel so. Tired. Oh. The Traitor... does not deserve this, no, unless this was his punishment to burden the weight of his own sins, but it’s ultimately uncomfortable—he died twice already in removing his title and in true battle. (His body felt wrong before for different reasons, but it felt even worse now that he’s reminded of the air and his other senses.)

And the Ghost does its best to try and point him in a direction it wants him to go. Incessantly tries. But he shook his head, clicked, said aloud that he’d resolved to return to the village and accept the sentence that should have been given when he was deposed. (Imprisonment. Death.) It’s only then does the Ghost no longer tries to point him in a direction (and how strange; was this the same way it pointed its nail?) and accompanies him the... the entire way...

It’s not that long of a trek, no, though his mind is clouded with all sorts of thoughts and regrets. He’d seen his Daughter’s grave for the last time. (The little warrior seemed to insist on giving him a flower, but even when he did finally accept if only to appease it, he’d merely set it back by the grave.) He’d seen his reflection in the pools of acid, the glow of an unnatural cerulean he does not remember seeing unlike the festerous cloud of orange. And... the occasional husks of what had been the split of his tribe.

The village is far quieter than his memories. It is a complicated feeling to see the mantids that watch with both confusion and hissing resentment, those that knew of him formerly and those that did not. Perhaps it must look like a show? To observe how the honored outsider escorts the depose Lord, a beast thought mindless returning in its newly sickening form with not the sweet-sickly orange, but a dim blue glow of what they vaguely remember other bugs considering as taboo (how funny of them to worship and pray to begin with). His thoughts grew louder; he wondered if he could ever make amends. He figures it all in vain. That’s fine, really.

...One thing led to another. The summary is that he does not die, and is “punished” to live with his decisions after it is thoroughly seen he is remorseful (to an extent). It does take a long while for this family to sort out their issues properly though.

Bonus side-note is that the Ghost can be treated as part of said family (but not really, but also hey look its horns are notched twice just like the Traitor’s and—)

Bonus reactions to said return:

The First just wants to know why it happened, so she can reflect and see where the both of them (mostly herself) had went wrong. Her own regrets she’d shouldered still smolder long after all the initial anger and confusion. Considering there’s only so many of them left, she just wants to hear him out (and oh, how strange-wrong it is to hear the difference in his voice now, to see him taller but with the lack of pride from before). In the end, she’s... relieved, almost, to see him the way he is now considering how she longed to revisit old things. Not that they could still return to them. But, well, new interactions to unfold, lots of baggage to pack.

The Second’s the one who’s most expressively upset. Frustrated that she cannot take her pains out on him as when she’d forced his claws to a duel, it was more than clear that his heart wasn’t in it (how disrespectful; how dare he seem so inclined to let the end of her nail-lance sink deep and through). She’d always known him to be a great fighter, so the reasoning behind him embracing the infection was more than just insulting as a betrayal. She despises the more passive behavior (this wasn’t the brother she remembered, what had happened to the hint of deserving arrogance he once bore?) and most of all, resents herself for not having done something more given the more responsibility their eldest took on.

The Third is uncharacteristically quiet, unsure and sorting out her emotions just like before (but managing to unintentionally, somehow, be the coldest towards him). She’s always been aware that while he did seek counsel, most often asking the eldest, he also disliked relying on anyone else and she never minded that, no. She felt as if she knew why he’d left. But in knowing what happened to her niece and the other, closer followers that had looked up to him, it was difficult for her to figure out how to respond to him in knowing the losses sustained. It’s... she eventually decides, though, to accept with resignation. He’s dealt with their other sisters and the disdain of the village and would continue to do so (probably). She’s just happy to have him back even despite the changes. She can at least... try, to not make the transition jarring by having even herself different in behavior. Sort of.

-

Redacted consideration was that he’d lose most if not all of the memories during his time of being infected because while it’d be fun for him to think that nothing more than him waking up in a random location happened and then seeing the husks of his tribe(?) along with “Whose grave is this?” and returning to the village almost as if nothing happened, the sisters would have a Horrendous Time alongside the Traitor if he by chance was then told of what happened.

anyways my AUs are to be self-indulgent, not to combust spontaneously :D I probably amplified the inferiority issue a bit too much here but Welp

alright bonus-bonusnonsense below:

little ghost does crimes. shoves lifeseeds into husk (in which some lifeseeds happily run away into said husk to get away from the chance of dying by tiny bug)

bug tries to slap mark of pride charm onto the former traitor lord

aand this:

It watches as he idles a moment longer, bowing his head towards the marked grave of his late Child. Quietly it comes closer, hesitantly, and reaches out—rests its hand onto his side and gently curls its fingers into his cloak. He does not move. So the vessel tilts its head, sits. Decides to wait for him—and rest. (aka it’d be quite nice, you know, to imagine the trek back where the Ghost doesn’t forcibly try to understand the dude, but is a sort of comfort... or maybe... just... a reaper, escorting him to his death. but then jokes on you big man it’s a friend!!)

[ad1thi]

frequent (emergency room) flyer | AU-gust Day 6: Hospital AU

AU-gust masterlist

i wrote this a while back, and a couple of people seemed interested in more, so here is another piece in that AU. tagging @m-e-i-c-h-a-n, @severelytinyeagle and @warmachinesocks (who was the original prompter) and im sorry if you asked for a continuation and didn’t get tagged. note: this can be read a stand-alone fic (but reading the original ficlet will help)

I’m begging you, please help me out here and get me something edible, I’m so tired of hospital food (from this prompt list) 

//

After his first visit, Bucky isn't expecting to see Tony again. Despite how garish the burns had looked on his arms, the actual injury itself had thankfully not been that bad - and Tony only needed to come in one more time for a check in, just to make sure everything was healing well. It was a short visit, nothing to write home about and Bucky privately wished that the injuries had been a bit more severe.

Not too severe, because he didn't want Tony hurting himself, but severe enough that it warranted a couple more visits. Of course he kept that particular inclination to himself, because it wasn't normal to want your crush to be hurt and it was unbecoming for a doctor to want an injured patient, but it was there - in the back of his mind.

When Steve pages him a month later and tells him that he's got a repeat customer, and he ducks into A&E to see a familiar mop of hair; he's secretly pleased.

"What are we looking at?" he asks Steve, holding his hand out for the chart. Steve passes it over with a grim face, "His roommate brought him in. He was unconscious. Apparently he's been locked up in his lab for the past week, and when his roommate went to check on it - he was slumped against his desk. We managed to get him conscious again, and it looks like a case of a lack of food and drink."

Instantly, Bucky regrets the way he felt when he first found out that Tony was back in A&E. He nods sharply at Steve, and pulls back the curtain to see a pale Tony on the bed, and a black kid who can't be more than a few years older than Tony standing near the side of the bed.

"Bucky!" he croaks when he looks up, lips stretching out into a wide smile. He pulls at the black kid's sweater, "Rhodey look - it’s Bucky!"

"I can see that Tones," Rhodey says in a wry tone, and holds his hand out for Bucky to shake. "James Rhodes, but this punk likes to call me Rhodey."

"Doctor James Barnes," he says back, "also cursed with a bestfriend who gives out terrible nicknames. You must be James the original."

Tony gives him an indecipherable look, "You remembered."

Bucky can't tell him that he's played the weekend that Tony was in the hospital in his mind on repeat, revisiting the memories like they’re treasure, so instead he clears his throat and asks, "So what brings you to my neck of the woods this time?"

Tony opens his mouth to reply, but Rhodey beats him, "He doesn't know how to eat. Don't even start with me Tones you know it's true. Doctor," he turns to Bucky with pleading eyes, "maybe you can knock some sense into him. Explain to him that human beings need sustenance three times a day and they can't survive on coffee and ramen."

Bucky frowns, "You've only been having ramen and coffee? Tony you need vitamins, you need protein. While it's possible that you just fainted because of hunger, I'm going to keep you around for a couple of days. Run some tests to make sure you haven't given yourself scurvy."

His lips twist into a pout, and Bucky has to tamp down the urge to lean down and kiss it off his face. "This is all your fault," he glares at Rhodey mulishly, "I'm stuck in a hospital instead of at my lab like I should be. All you had to do was splash some water on me and this whole thing could've been avoided."

"I did, you didn't wake up" Rhodey says, obviously not rising to Tony's bait. He oddly reminds Bucky of himself, back when Steve wasn't a hunkering man made of muscles and Bucky had to wrestle his four foot ass in bed because he couldn't go five steps without dissolving into a coughing fit. "Besides, what're you complaining about? Now you've got all this free time to ogle at the doctor you've been talking my ear off about for a month."

Tony's cheeks pink, and Bucky excuses himself before he does something he's going to regret.

(Like find out exactly what Tony's been saying about him to his bestfriend)

/

Thankfully, Tony doesn't seem to have any serious illnesses apart from a mild case of dehydration and malnutrition; but Bucky keeps him under observation to be sure just in case. He's heard horror stories of students cracking under the pressure at MIT and almost starving themselves to death, and he's got a special interest in making sure that Tony doesn't become one of those horror stories.

Besides, he's fairly certain that Tony can afford the medical bills.

The downside of Tony not being at high risk of death is that Bucky can't justify visiting him often. So he does the next best thing, he assigns Steve to Tony. It's standard hospital procedure to have a nurse dedicated to their VIP patients, and it soothes something inside Bucky to know that Stevie is looking out for him.

What he fails to take into account, is the fact that Steve and Tony are remarkably similar people, and are therefore bound to clash.

"I can't take it anymore!" Steve bursts into his office, interrupting what was promising to be an extremely rewarding fifteen minutes of sleep at his desk, "He's so - UGH!"

Steve tugs at his hair, and Bucky gestures at the couch in his office, wincing when Steve slumps against it face-first.

"Use your big boy words Stevie," he says in what he hopes is a calming tone, "Who's got you so worked out?"

"Your ickle Tony," Steve props his head up and says in a scathing voice, "Is the most infuriating person I have ever had the misfortune of meeting. It's like he wants to die. I don't know what you see in him Buck, honest to god, he drives me crazy."

"What did he do?"

"He refuses to eat!" Steve moans, but when he notices the expression on Bucky's face he backtracks a little, "He eats, but like ridiculously small amounts. His tray is never empty, and one time - I even caught him shovelling food under his plate to make it look like he'd eaten it. The kid is going to kill himself if he goes on like this."

Bucky wants to go over there right now, but he's got patients that can't wait. "I'll visit him after my rounds today," he promises, "find out what's going on."

When he enters the suite that they've put Tony in, he's in the middle of a very heated conversation on his phone. His skin is no longer pale, flushed full with colour, but he's still too skinny for Bucky's comfort.

"No Pep I -" he looks over when the door slides open, and his face transforms into a smile, "Bucky! Pep, let me call you right back."

Whoever it is on the other line is clearly not happy about Tony cutting the line on them because he hears the beginning of what sounds like yelling - but Tony ends the call before they can get anywhere. He cocks his head and bats his eyes at Bucky, "What can I do for my favourite doctor?'

"I'm your only doctor Tony," Bucky says with a chuckle, "Nobody else is willing to treat you." It isn't a lie, but it isn't the complete truth either. Bucky is Tony's only doctor, but only because he put dibs on any future Tony related visits. So it wasn't that nobody else was willing to treat Tony, it was more that Bucky wasn't willing to let anyone else treat Tony.

"So, what's this I hear about you not eating food? Keeping you under observation for malnutrition is counter-productive if you're not eating Tony." Tony frowns at that, his face twisting like he's had something sour.

He hears out and clasps Bucky's hands, looking up at him with wide eyes, "You have to help me. You gotta get me out of here. They keep trying to make me eat hospital food," he says 'hospital food' in a hushed tone, like he's worried Stevie is going to jump out with a tray and shove it down his throat.

(Knowing Stevie, it was completely possible)

"Tony," he says gently, "You have to eat. It's for your own good. You're dangerously low on vitamins and protein, and if we don't get that stuff in your system you could be running the risk of serious illness. Then you'll be shackled to a hospital room for the rest of your life, with no choice but to eat hospital food."

Tony contemplates that for a second, brows furrowing in concentration. "Okay, how about a compromise? I'll eat hospital food, two times out of the day, if you smuggle me in a cheeseburger for lunch."

"How about this? You eat hospital food all times of the day, and I'll buy you a cheeseburger when we discharge you?"

"You mean like a date?" Bucky suddenly becomes intimately aware that Tony is still holding his hand, "You asking me out on a date Doc?"

Bucky wants to say no, he knows that he's supposed to say no, but what comes out is, "Not yet."

Tony's face twists at that, before smoothening out in comprehension, "It's because I'm your patient isn't it. There's rules about this stuff, ethics or whatever."

"I could lose my license over it," Bucky admits, "not to mention that you're still in college."

"I'm a master's student," Tony says breezily, "I'm older than I look. I turn 22 this May. So how long?" Bucky makes a quizzical noise at him and he explains, "How long until it's okay for you to date a patient?"

"6 months," Bucky rubs the back of his neck with his free hand, "There's a bit of debate on it, but six months is pretty standard."

Tony nods, "I can do six months. I can wait six months."

"You have to stay out of the hospital for six months," Bucky says weakly, "No malnourishment, no lab accidents, you can't even get a scrape on your elbow, otherwise I could get written up."

"I can do that," Tony says confidently, and Bucky knows that he should talk him out of it, but he smiles toothily at Bucky, and he's gone, "I can wait six months for you. Can you?"

"Six months," Bucky says back, and it feels like a promise.

Fin