#okay technically not every one of these counts as flinching but

[anguishmacgyver]

Daniel Jackson + every time he flinches on Stargate SG-1 4x08 The First Ones

[itstheghostofmypast]

Loyalties

Kim HongJoong x (f) Detective Reader

Summary: He held her itty bitty heart in his bloody palm and she knew that, but did she love him enough to let him win his little game everytime? Did he love her enough to risk her safety?

Genre: Hurt/Comfort Fluff

Warnings: Joong's a perv (Idk okay), mention of gunshots, strong language.

Word Count: 2.5K

Read Time: 12 min

Rating: nc-17

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

She hated him, no she despised him, no she loathed that disgusting, horrid, weasel of a man. She despised his cheap ass fur coat, his unnecessary bling and those pants! Her blood would boil at the mere name of that demonic, immature moron, she despised every little detail about him; his angular face, his sharp eyes that would glimmer like the stars swirling with pure mischief, his light chuckle that would ring in her ears like the voice of an angel, oh and she really, really, abhorred the way he'd look at her, with the warmth of pure love - NO!

Mentally slapping herself she cleared her throat, rehearsing the first stanza of hatred that ran hot in her veins for the infamous leader of MATZ. Technically it was just two men, boys who were usually called in for petty crimes turned into men who were now challenging the system- a knock-off of any vigilante out there. Batman, Daredevil, even the Punisher, see these men had class and style- MATZ, well, they had style...but perhaps the fact that explaining how her once high school friends are now notorious criminals or wannabe Robinhood would be a bit difficult. Perhaps this little fact only added to her current presiding problem, one she had mentioned to her lover, explicitly mentioning her concerns; for the safety of his life and her professional career. Once again, that bastard let his deflated ego in the way, her words bouncing off it without ever reaching his useless, dysfunctional brain.

So, here she stood, in front of her captain, watching him go on and on about the need for order and justice, the need for law and police work, and more importantly the need for loyalty. Loyalty, a trait that was of importance, though her's was being questioned.

"Where do your loyalties lie detective?"

"With the force, Sir" With a salute she looked dead ahead, not at him, no, through him, trying to figure out the answer to this very question. Where did her loyalties lie?

"Then how is it, you've been leading the task force to capture MATZ for three years and each time you are close they miraculously slip away!" his large, meaty hands slammed on the table, her partner beside her flinching, though not a jerk left her bones. Instead, her eyes flickered to his face, instantly scanning his form, this man looked like anything but eh definition of justice, safety and security - if anything, he looked more like a criminal than that moron of hers.

"I assure you, Sergeant, my loyalties lie where my heart has ever since I was a little girl. My friendship with Joong- " pausing she cleared her throat, ignoring the way he raised a brow at he before glancing at her partner as if hinting at something "MATZ, both Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa ended as soon as they started this life of crime."

"I don't trust you an ounce detective, not one bit." slumping back in his seat he stared up at her, "But the Captain trusts ya for some reason, believes you a good egg- I just think you're a cracked egg, too far gone for anything else- so I'll tell you this, I'm on to ya, I'll be watching you, listening to you, from the moment you step into his precinct ill be watching your every move."

.

"Well, that was something." Jongho muttered, closing the door behind him, "Do you...want to grab a bite or something?"

"I'm good." giving him a small smile she sat back at her desk, sifting through the papers, not a word written processing in her already occupied mind. The traffic of thoughts only stopped when a hand rested on hers, "I may be younger than you, but we're partners, and my mentor has always told to me trust my partner. "

His soft words, followed by his cute smile had her sigh in defeat, sitting back down and nodding, "Some mentor you have, huh?"

"She's the best of the best." Puffing up his chest with pride he placed his hands on her desk, "Now, what can I do, to make my mentor feel better."

"Nothing, really Jong, I- " her words caught up as she noticed something. Her eyes caught the way her system was on, the screen lit up, the mouse icon moving on its own, she was being - shit. Instantly reaching for the cable, she pulled the plug on the CPU.

"Um...did you see what I just saw?"

"Jongho, get Yunho and tell him to track whatever the hell that was."

"Yes, Ma'am."

.

The door slammed shut, the darkness just adding to her anger, of course, he wouldn't turn on the lights, no lamp or bulb, choosing to sit on the small balcony - maybe she should just push him off, the idea extremely tempting at this point.

Placing her badge and gun on the table she made her way to the small balcony at the other end of the living room, making sure to turn on a lamp on the way out. Sliding the door open she sighed, the cool breeze prickling her warm skin, a shiver running down her spine as she stepped out completely, barely missing the small table as she made her way to the seat her boyfriend was currently sprawled on, limbs extending like the roots of the potted plants behind him. His head lay against the cushioned headrest, turning his head to face her, an easy smile making its way to his face, the warm glow of the fairy lights from the wall beside him only adding onto his beautiful face, making him appear oh so soft and lovable.

"Hey babe." his words barely above a whisper.

"Joong~" she sang, slowly getting on top of him, making herself comfortable until she was fully straddling him, his hands automatically finding their place on her back, holding onto her tight, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, "Did you miss me?"

"You bet your pretty ass, I did," he mumbled, eying the way she moved closer, her chest pressed against his, fingers playing with the hair at the base of his head.

"Aw~ baby" she pouted before gripping onto the ends of his hair and tugging hard, his head tilting back as a whimper escaped him, damn, his girl was in the mood- or so he thought.

"I didn't you f*cker." her grip tightened, tilting his head further back with another tug, his own fingers digging into her sides, trying to keep some form of control.

"Why~" whining with his eyes closed, he treasured the burning sensation, his princess knew how to play and he liked it so very much.

"Did you get Youngie to tap into my system? Do you want me to get fired? Or do you want me to shoot you in the d*ck?"

"Aw baby~ it's just work." his eyes finally snapped open, standing up without warning as a high-pitched squeak left her lips, arms instantly locking around his neck, much like her legs around his waist, staring up at him wide-eyed.

A chuckle echoed in the dark of the night as his hands finally gripped her close, "Don't worry doll, I'd never let ya fall." Walking them into the apartment he looked down at her frowning, "Did someone piss off my princess ?"

"Joong, " sighing she glanced away, letting him carry her around like she weighed nothing, like she was a mere muse he was addicted to, clinging onto him, onto his fur coat- wait God, he was wearing the orange one, she hated it.

"Yes, love?" slowly setting her down on the bed he shrugged off his jacket, going to the cupboard to hang it, his precious baby wasn't cheap!

"I can only protect you if you trust me, but if you hack into my system or pull shit like that and they fire me, who knows what- I- I just can't lose you" her words clogging up in her throat, the burning sensation all too evident behind her eyes, " what I mean is" sighing she paused to rephrase, his casual attitude just adding to the frustration as he walked towards her, swaying like a cat, stopping right in front of her sitting form, "Hongjoong, I'm serious, with me, it is just a game of cat and mouse but if I get replaced, if its someone else, it'll be serious and they might even-"

"Shhh..." placing a finger on her lips he hushed her, his hand caressing her cheek, admiring how she nuzzled into his palm, "You know love, " he whispered leaning closer till their noses touched, "I am a very dangerous man, I am more than just your lover."

"But-"

"I'll lay off your system," brushing his lips against hers, "Detective." Pulling back he smiled down at her, admiring how she looked up at him with teary eyes filled with nothing but love and worry, letting his intrusive thoughts win and squishing her cheeks with one hand, laughing at her whining in protest.

His other hand pulled out something from his back, showing her the shiny metal toy of his, "If it were someone else, other than you, that f*cker would already be dead, you're the only reason why I haven't torn this system down to shreds." with one last kiss to the forehead, her lovable idiot of a man once again promised to stay out of her way, at least for a while.

.

"This is team two, The ground floor is clear."

He did it again, he must've done it again, no way in hell did he not do it.

"Team three reporting from floor 1, all clear."

"Boss" Jongho mumbled beside her, turning off his comm, "Did you tell him?"

Sighing she adjusted her bulletproof west as the two walked into the basement, "Yes, I told that bastard, my system wasn't tapped, I double-checked." Of course, her junior knew about her little relationship, she did teach him that a mentor and mentee should have no secrets, even ones like these. It didn't take him long to accept it either, saying something along the lines of, "Is he really that bad if he's fighting against a system that has failed us?"

"Because Yunho just texted me saying your phone was tapped instead. "

"I hate him."

"Team two reporting, roof's all clear boss."

"This doesn't look good," he mumbled, trailing hot on her heels as the two entered the basement, a parking lot with two entrances. They were going to split up, "We can't go empty-handed, we need something at least."

"I know. Let's split up, and be on your guard."

With that the two parted ways, her footsteps echoing across the empty parking lot, the scraping of her boots muffling the jingle of her gun, one that was aimed and ready to shoot. A low chuckle caught her ear.

"STOP RIGHT THERE." She yelled, turning to aim at the fool, his smirk pissing her off even more, "Don't.Move."

"Hey doll." the deep voice from beside her alerting her senses, "You should go check up on your partner, baby bear's knocked out like Goldilocks." Seonghwa chuckled, making his way to stand next to Hongjoong who had his hands up for a show, the smug look never leaving his face.

"Aw, come on detective, just let us go and we can call it a night."

A loud bang, followed by a series of bangs, resonated across the entire parking lot.

"ALL UNITS TO THE BASEMENT, NOW!"

.

"You okay?" she asked, pressing the icepack against the bump on his head, "Told you to wear the helmet."

"Are YOU okay?" he asked, others around them looking at their head's bulletproof jacket, staring at the four shots right across it. Though that's not what he meant, he was definitely asking about something else.

"Yeah, great actually." Patting her head she turned around when someone called her name, eying the office who handed her a phone, "It's the sergeant, detective." rolling her eyes she pressed it against her ear, "Hello?"

"Detective. I heard about the encounter but didn't think you had it in ya to shoot him. Glad the bulletproof vest worked though, you're a good agent, we can't risk losing. I take it back, you have my trust and support. Get home safe."

.

Slamming the door shut she sighed in relief, kicking off her shoes she made her way into the living room, oh? The lights were on, what a pleasant surprise, wonder what happened?

"Hey honey how was work?" she smirked, leaning against the wall, arms crossed as she watched her shirtless boyfriend glare back at her, both ignoring the other man in the room who was tending to the gunshot wound.

Raising a brow, he scoffed, "Oh great love I got shot today by a bitch-"

"I'm still holding my gun Joong, don't test me"

Slamming his hand on his thigh he yelled "YOU SHOT ME- you SHOT ME IN THE SHOULDER!" hissing in pain as Seonghwa clicked his tongue, mumbling a stay still as he patched up the hole. This was all he could do before Yeosang could come over and have a proper look at it.

"YOU TAPPED MY PHONE"

"WELL YOUR SERGEANT WAS GETTING TOO COZY WITH YA- man's a perv, I know it" he spat back, shoving Seonghwa out of the way with his free hand, earning a curse in return.

"HONGJOONG, HE WAS DOUBTING MY LOYALTIES!" she explained and pointed at herself, "AND YOU SHOT ME TOO!"

A dramatic gasp echoed across the room followed by a hand placed on his chest - his heart, mind you-, causing Seonghwa to roll his eyes, here we go again, he should've never befriended these two in high school. Mumbling to himself about their idiocy he walked out to the balcony, deciding to smoke instead of listening to these idiots.

"First of all, YOU shot ME first and" he yelled and turned to point at the balcony, "That motherf*cker shot you, not me! I agree four times was a bit excessive but hey you were the one who kept going on and on about us being too soft on ya." Turning to her with raised brows, "And loyalties? Babe, come on, I mean, you and I- like we like- I've been in you multiple times, day or night and-"

"CAN YOU NOT!" she screamed, gesturing at the open door of the balcony.

'I don't care, pretend I'm not here, that's what I'm pretending too!' was all they could hear from the balcony, causing her face to resemble a tomato, though her shameless boyfriend was as nonchalant as ever, continuing his little speech, half naked in the living room.

"All I'm saying is, I don't question your loyalties because I know you've got the hots for me like I completely get it, I'd wanna sleep with me too, but your creep of a boss knows his soggy sausage aint worth your time and-"

"I should've aimed for your d*ck"

"Would you really though? Cause I know you loyal to my d-"

"And this conversation is over." with that she stomped away, speed walking when she heard the loud cackles of Seonghwa followed by the laughter of her own idiot of a man. No, boys, they were still the same shameless teenage boys, she accidentally had the unfortunate fate of meeting in school, when she was nothing but a victim of loneliness, turning her grey dull days into chaotic, colourful ones pulled out of the ass of the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland.

[somedaylazysomeday]

A Deal With a Demon - Part Four

You try to help Beetlejuice set up the store's information, but you both get a little distracted.

Beetlejuice x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit. Not suitable for minors.

Word Count: 4100

Warnings: References to demons and witchcraft, background references to a sex shop, oral sex (fem receiving), coming untouched.

Previous | Masterlist

---

You took a deep breath in through your nose, reveling in the rush of it: Halloween. Or, as witches knew it, All Hallows’ Eve. 

Witches with a strong connection to nature got a little more out of the solstices - dark and light at winter and spring, respectively - but All Hallows’ Eve was more egalitarian. 

It was a magical time for everyone, really. The changing leaves were just at their most vibrant and the skies stretched a pale blue overhead. The crisp chill of fall gave each breath a hint of spice and the ground felt solid as iron beneath your booted feet. Spices from baked treats and flavored drinks filled the air. The world seemed to be simultaneously holding its breath and flinging itself vicariously through every moment.

The magic was growing stronger. It felt like you were tapping into the power without any effort at all, and the energy danced over your skin like a series of tingling electric shocks. 

Your senses were heightened, too. Your sight (and Sight) was improved, and you could hear even the faintest sound with clarity. A thousand invisible textures danced under your fingertips, and you could smell anything in the neighborhood from your home.

Which was why you hardly needed Beetlejuice to voice his complaints aloud: “This is so boring.” 

“You’re the one who decided to start a small business,” you pointed out, watching the leaves flutter past the open window. It was far more relaxing than focusing on the pouting pleasure demon in your living room or the intimidating number of forms spread around your ancient laptop. 

When you sensed that Beetlejuice was getting ready to launch another complaint, you gave him a stern look. “And you’re the one who decided that hypnotizing someone to give you a business license was better than doing all of the paperwork.” 

“It is better,” he muttered mutinously. “So why are we doin’ all-a this?” 

“Because,” you explained again, “if someone goes to dig up information about the store - and they will - everything needs to be legitimate.”

Maybe the explanation was harsher than was strictly necessary, but this was the dozenth time you had delivered it. You had run out of patience several hours before and relied on magical means instead. When Beetlejuice’s expression went pouty yet again, you drained what was left of the calming potion at your elbow. Well, technically, second calming potion. You had chugged the first to keep from committing murder against a being who was already dead. 

Wait. Were demons technically alive even though they had never been born? And if they couldn’t be said to be alive, they could hardly be dead, either. Maybe demons existed somewhere outside of the alive/dead dichotomy. 

You shook off the philosophical musings as Beetlejuice started muttering to himself. 

That was certainly enough of that. You weren’t about to let a petulant demon ruin your day, especially not All Hallows’ Eve. “Beetlejuice.” 

The demon in question flinched violently at your use of his name. When he saw the sternness on your face, he seemed to settle in for work. “Okay, fine, let’s do paperwork. But I’m not gonna be excited about it.” 

“Noted,” you said dryly. “Luckily for you, I’ve done most of the hard work myself. I just need some information about dates and where the funding is supposedly from. And we need to pick a new name.” 

“Ooh, a new name,” Beetlejuice said, instantly distracted by that. “What were ya thinkin’? I know I said you could change it, but I kinda like the one we got now...”

“No, it needs to be changed,” you reminded him. “If for no other reason than that it’s not very sexy.” 

Beetlejuice looked offended, baring greenish teeth at that. “Are you sayin’ my name’s not sexy, toots?” 

“It’s not,” you confirmed, but hurried to offer more of an explanation. “But only because the customers haven’t met you yet. You’re not sexy because of your name; the name is sexy because of you.”

“Oh.” He visibly relaxed. “That’s true. I am pretty irresistible.” 

You glanced at a spare piece of paper, hiding a smile. If Beetlejuice was always going to be this easily managed, maybe there was hope for this store. “I have a few ideas written down if you want to take a look. Let me know if there are any that stand out.” 

“Boring,” Beetlejuice announced, scorching a hole through the first name with his fingertip. He continued down the list even as the edges of the first hole continued to smoke and curl. “Overused. Stupid. Boring. Boring. Boring.” 

By your count, that was all of the names you had written. “Well, I guess I’m going to have to find a new copy of that particular form…”

“It needs to be something catchy,” Beetlejuice said, ignoring you and tossing the paper away in favor of framing an imaginary sign in the air. You did your best to listen as you scrambled to pick up the smoldering paper before it caught anything on fire. “It needs to snap, ya know? Grab your attention. But still be somethin’ we can work with. The name can’t overpower the store itself. Otherwise, it’s like… Ya know when you meet the worst, most boring person, but they’ve got a name like… like…”

“Beetlejuice?” you supplied dryly. 

He pointed a blackened fingernail at you. “Watch it, babes. That’s two digs at my name and two times you’ve used it. I’m gonna start taking it personally.” 

“Wish you’d take your business seriously,” you quipped, only partially joking. 

“That’s it,” he growled, eyes flashing in a way that felt more like an animal’s eyes at night than a person. Honestly, deer should have come to mind given your typical life experiences, but all you could think of was a crocodile. “I’m done listenin’ to this kind of abuse.” 

“Is there a different kind you’d prefer?” you asked, betting on the fact that Beetlejuice hadn’t seen enough old movies to be familiar with the joke. 

Sure enough, it took him a moment to work through that, but after he had finished absorbing it, his stained fingertips shot out in your direction. The grasp on your upper arm wasn’t tight, but it was… odd. Beetlejuice’s hands didn’t have the right amount of give in them, not like a normal person’s.

Before you could be swept away in another round of philosophical musings about demons, Beetlejuice used that grip to pull you toward himself. 

You watched, fascinated as his figure grew larger in your perspective, then he was gone. It wasn’t until your hands and knees hit the floor that you realized he had let you go mid-pull, flinging you past himself and onto the ground. 

“What the fuck?” you demanded. 

At the same time, Beetlejuice asked, “What the fuck?” 

While you were glaring at him, the demon was staring down at his own hands, studying them like he would see something moving beneath his pale, dirt-stained skin. 

You took a moment to collect yourself, making sure nothing was broken, sprained, or otherwise damaged. With that done, you tried to demand to know why Beetlejuice had tossed you across the room, but he was so busy talking to you that he didn’t answer any of your questions. And, to be fair, you weren’t answering any of his. And so, you decided to be the bigger person and stop talking. (It definitely wasn’t because you couldn’t concentrate if both of you were speaking at once and trying was going to give you a migraine. Not at all.)

“Fine!” you snapped, throwing your hands in the air and scrambling to your feet. “You talk first. Go!” 

“What the fuck was that? Why are you crawling with magic?” Beetlejuice demanded. Something in his tone told you it wasn’t the first time he had asked it. 

You gave him the stare that deserved. Maybe demons didn’t have as strong a connection to the day as witches, but there was no way he couldn’t feel the way magic hung thick in the air. You could feel it pulse, feel it breathe. You could have been locked in a windowless basement, wrapped in a tarp, and suffering from history’s worst head cold and you still would have known what day it was.

But you tried to be kind. It helped that you counted to ten, then twenty as you took your position on the couch once more. That brief break helped keep your tone even as you answered, “It’s All Hallows’ Eve.” 

Beetlejuice looked blank for a moment, then let out a cackle that belonged on every Halloween sound effect CD you’d grown up hearing. “That explains the power. The way it’s just spillin’ outta you.” 

The way he said it turned an already-odd statement into something dirty. When he licked his lips, tongue only serving to draw attention to his overly sharp teeth, you could tell it had been on purpose. “Don’t you dare. We still have work to do.” 

“C’mon, babes,” he purred, clearly not dissuaded by your sharp tone. “You know I feed on sex. It’ll make both of us feel better.” 

“And then I end up doing the rest of this by myself?” you demanded, gesturing broadly to the mass of papers across your coffee table. “I’ll pass, thanks. At least choose a name. Then we’ll have sex before you leave. Okay?” 

“I think better when my dick doesn’t have dibs on the blood supply,” Beetlejuice countered, unabashedly adjusting himself. “It just makes sense - I suck a little power from the person I fuck and ya have way too much power going on right now. I’m not gonna be able to focus until the two of us get down and dirty.”

“Well, we can cross sweet-talking off your list of skills,” you said dryly. 

Beetlejuice scoffed. “Toots, we both know dirty talk is the most important skill. Fuck sweet-talking. Besides, we both know how good I am with my tongue.” 

You rolled your eyes, though it wasn’t easy to look away from the dizzying display created by his waggling eyebrows. “Beej…” 

“Okay, I’ll make a deal with ya.” That got your attention. If there was one thing Beetlejuice took seriously, it was a deal. “Lemme remind ya how much ya like my tongue, then I’ll do as much boring paperwork as ya want.”

It seemed like a good deal. That in itself was suspicious. You narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t you disappear as soon as the terms of the deal are complete?” 

“What? No, that’s not true! Who told ya-?” Beetlejuice dropped his offended act when you didn’t seem even slightly convinced. “Okay, I usually do, but it’s not a requirement. It’s just a convenient out, ya know? But I don’t have to leave right away. Don’t’cha remember the first deal we made?”

“Yeah, I do remember,” you admitted. The demon nodded, but otherwise, kept watching you expectantly. You sighed despite yourself. You didn’t want to break your concentration streak, but Beetlejuice had already done that. And you couldn’t deny that part of you was eager to see how the extra power would impact sex. 

So you fixed Beetlejuice with a hard stare. “And you promise that you’ll actually help afterward?” 

“Absolutely, doll,” he said, nodding too many times. “Anything ya want, I’ll do it. I promise. I swear.” 

“And it’s not going to hurt when you siphon power from me?” you checked. 

He shrugged. “Ya haven’t complained any of the other times.” 

The suspicion you felt must have been clear on your face, since Beetlejuice rose up on his knees. With the broken springs and worn cushions of your couch, your faces were on the same level. “One way to check.” 

Well, surely there was nothing to lose by this point… You leaned forward, tasting the mossy rain scent of Beetlejuice on the air an instant before your lips met. Someone gasped and you weren’t entirely sure whether it was you or the demon. The power had gathered where you touched him, like static electricity in a globe. It focused on the places where your skin touched, making your lips and tongue tingle as you explored just how strong an effect the magic had on you.

When you parted, both you and Beetlejuice were panting. He watched you intently, pupils blown wide with desire. You couldn’t blame him - it had felt amazing, and if he was right, you were actually losing power. How incredible would it feel if you had been gaining it instead?

“Okay,” you relented. “I guess we can- ah!”

Without warning, Beetlejuice worked his magic and stripped every stitch of clothing from you. His shirt was gone, but he was still wearing his pants. One grubby sock clung to his foot. If pressed, you would have bet that he didn’t own a pair of socks, let alone wear them. 

Before you could begin processing that, he had muscled his way between your legs and grabbed behind your knees. After a hard yank, he buried his face between your legs as you gasped and clutched his head.

Your hands flew to his hair, burying in the thick, shockingly soft strands as you tried to catch your breath and moan at the same time. “Beetle-”

Sharp teeth sank into the tender skin of your inner thigh and you let out a soft cry. “None’a that. You know the rules,” Beetlejuice murmured against you, kissing your leg gently before he set to work sucking a mark into your flesh. Just as the pressure of his lips seemed to reach an apex, the magic felt like it took a deep breath, gathering where Beetlejuice was pressed. 

The resulting pulse of magic made you groan… and pulled a whimper out of Beetlejuice. 

Before you could fully soak that noise in, though it was echoing deliciously in your ears, Beetlejuice moved back toward more sensitive places. His tongue slid out of his mouth… and out… and out, until the tip of it was wriggling against you without him moving any closer to your core. It was disturbing, almost enough to shake you from your lustful stupor, but then it brushed over your clit and you stopped caring. 

 Beetlejuice reined himself in, bringing his tongue back to a normal length as he nosed up and down your slit, laving everything with attention. Well, almost everything. He seemed to be pointedly avoiding your clit then. Part of you was grumpy about that, but with the intensity of everything else, you had to wonder if you would survive him making direct contact with all of the nerves gathered there. 

But you hardly had a moment to note the lack of stimulation before your attention was drawn elsewhere. One thick, cool finger pierced the heart of you and thrust ever deeper until it was buried as far as he could reach. The intrusion felt sharp and intense, but right in a way that felt far too important considering that it was nothing more than a finger. 

You knew he was a powerful demon and you had a half a beat to wonder if he could shift forms, or alter his usual one. Gifting himself several extra mouths and tongues was the only way you could picture him being everywhere it felt like he was. 

Of course, all of those musings were there one instant and gone the next. That was approximately how long it took the sensations to hit you, and then the only thing you could do was desperately bury your hands in Beetlejuice’s hair and ride his tongue.

He gave you plenty to work with, too. He had proven several times that he had far too long a tongue for a typical human, and he seemed determined to coax every inch of it into the tight clasp of your core. As soon as you got used to the odd flexibility of the muscle inside of you, your body clenched so hard that you thought you would push him back out. At any rate, you were quickly getting addicted to the sensation. 

When Beetlejuice withdrew his tongue, it was to give his full attention to that wonderfully sensitive bud at the top of your slit. He didn’t ease into it - no, he wrapped his lips around it and sucked hard. 

You shrieked, thighs fighting to close and push him out, but the demon simply tossed your legs over his shoulders. With your calves and feet dangling helplessly down his back, your kicks were ineffective. You were utterly at his mercy as he feasted on you, and Beetlejuice had never struck you as the merciful type. Your hips danced in his steely grip and even you couldn’t tell whether you were trying to move closer to him or further away. 

Your climax hit you out of nowhere, fully blindsiding both you and Beetlejuice. Your throat hurt with the noises you were forcing from it, but you couldn’t hear any of them. The flood of pleasure rushing through your brain made it ignore silly things, like your sense of hearing. Your fingers were sank deep in Beetlejuice’s hair, wrapped so tightly that your fingers ached with it. You used that grip to hold him against you, hips bucking as you rode his face.

The orgasm was like a feedback loop - the sounds he made sent a wave of wetness between your thighs and a wave of magic absolutely everywhere on your body. When the magic tingled its way through you, it impacted Beetlejuice as well. He was moaning helplessly, fingers convulsing on your hips. The few times you were able to pry your eyes open, you found that he had his closed. 

The pleasure stretched on and on, lasting until your body was aching and your folds were too sensitive to be touched. Beetlejuice was still working you, trying to draw out sensations that had already concluded. You couldn’t fully blame him, though: you were still holding him in place and he didn’t have a choice. 

When you managed to release your grip on his hair, Beetlejuice flopped backward, the hard impact leaving him sprawled on the floor. 

“That was… incredible,” you panted out at last.

“You’re tellin’ me, babes,” Beetlejuice said, sitting up with a wince and a glance at his crotch. “If I don’t take care’a this soon, I’m gonna peel off some skin with these pants.”

“Did you..?” you started, trailing off awkwardly. Ridiculous as it was, it seemed indelicate to ask your demonic lover if he had come in his pants. Instead, you just gave a vague sort of wave. “You know…”

“Go off like a kid who just saw his first nudie mag?” Beetlejuice asked, waggling his eyebrows. “Yeah, sure fuckin’ did.” 

“‘Nudie mag’?” you echoed, grimacing. “Are you a Beastie Boy circa 1992? Never say that again.”

“That song was ‘86, but fine,” he agreed easily. “How about-?”

“Why didn’t you just magic your pants away when you did everything else?” you asked loudly, talking over the first of what promised to be a long list of euphemisms for porn. 

“Hey, it takes a lot of concentration to do what I do,” Beetlejuice informed you haughtily. “And I was a little occupied. It seemed more important to get ya naked than make sure I was, too. Just couldn’t wait to get my mouth on that cunt…” 

His gaze got a little intent at that. Your face warmed with embarrassment and your core gave a throb of either eagerness or dismay, you weren’t sure which. But since you weren’t ready to even think about going for another round, you put on your sternest look and tone. “Beetlejuice.”

“Okay, okay,” he agreed gracelessly. “I got my shirt off, but the pants… Well, it’s a delicate area. I actually went too far the other way. This isn’t even mine.” 

You watched Beetlejuice’s toes wriggling in the filthy sock - especially easy given the large hole over his big toe - and shook your head. “Anyway, I hope that was enough of a break for you. We still have work to do for your store.” 

Beetlejuice pursed his lips and made a loud farting sound. “I still think the name is fine.” 

“Yeah?” you asked challengingly. “Let me go ahead and try it out: Bee-”

A mossy-smelling hand clapped over your mouth before you could fully finish the first syllable. “Anyone ever told ya that you’re too mean for how pretty you are?” 

You would have accused him of sucking up if he didn’t sound so disgruntled. “No.” 

Beetlejuice didn’t seem to have any trouble deciphering the muffled word you’d said behind his hand. “Then you’re either meaner to me than you are to them or they’re idiots.”

“Enough sweet talk practice,” you declared. “What do you want to name your store?” 

“I dunno.” Beetlejuice folded one arm behind his head, and there was something about the angle of his elbow that looked either painful or inhuman. You started getting dizzy when you thought about it, so you focused on the wet spot on the crotch of his obnoxiously striped pants to distract yourself. It worked remarkably well. 

Beetlejuice was, of course, fully unaware of your inner distraction. He sighed, rolling his eyes so hard that you could only see the blankness of sclera between his eyelids. “Can’t we do somethin’ easy, like ‘Wicked’?” 

“I think there could be some confusion there,” you reminded him, half-chuckling. Your amusement faded when Beetlejuice gave you a nonplussed stare. “You know, the hit Broadway musical about a girl with green skin? Could be a relative, you know, though I don’t think hers was rot.”

“Mold,” he corrected. “I have mold, not rot. I wish I had rot. And I don’t really keep up on the Broadway musicals, toots. They’re always canceling the good ones and sending them out on a tour that’s probably just as good, but lacks the dependability of a permanent theater.” 

“What are you talking about?” you asked. “Just… not Wicked, okay?”

“Sure, fine,” Beetlejuice agreed, sticking his tongue out in concentration. “What about somethin’ that means the same thing?” 

“A synonym?” you mused. “Sure. Let’s see… Bad, wrong, evil, corrupt…”

“Nah, not the right vibe.” 

You nodded. “There are other meanings that lean more into the religious aspect of things, if that’s more along the lines of what you want. Immoral, ungodly, unholy…”

“Unholy has a nice ring to it,” Beetlejuice admitted. “But I don’t wanna give people the wrong idea. My store has plenty of holes in it.” 

Even when you made the noise that boast deserved, Beetlejuice was still grinning. You decided to push past it. “Hateful, rotten, villainous, impure, sinful…”

“That one,” Beetlejuice said decisively, sitting up and running a hand over the hair that you had mussed so thoroughly. “Sinful. It’s got everything I like. Sinning… and being… full. Yeah, Sinful. We’ll have to change the logo.” 

You nodded slowly, trying to commit his choice to memory. You really weren’t ready to stand up yet.

“And we’ll have to change the border.” When you glanced down, Beetlejuice was giving you a knowing look. “I know how much you don’t like the dick snake.” 

“I thought it was clever, having it designed as an ouroboros,” you objected. “Maybe we should add lips to where it’s eating the head. Then it’ll look more like a blow job and less like torture.” 

“Whatever floats their boat,” Beetlejuice told you with a shrug. “I don’t object to a little C&B torture.”

“Okay, I’m done with this conversation.” You stood from the couch, brushing random fuzz from your bare ass. There was a price to be paid for being naked and sweating on cushions that were falling apart. “Give me my clothes back. Now that you’ve picked a name, I can get started on all of the branding.” 

“Ooh, branding is fun.” 

You didn’t need to be psychic to know that he wasn’t talking about company branding… or to recognize that he was messing with you. Rather than reacting, you just threw a skeptical stare over your shoulder. “If you say so. Once we’ve figured out the logo, you can get it branded somewhere delicate. Now, are you giving me my clothes back or do I have to go find something to wear?” 

Beetlejuice pouted, but your clothes were back in a moment. In recognition of his lack of complaining, you decided not to mention that you were missing underwear. 

Again.

---

Author's Note - Thanks for reading and Happy Halloween! In case I offended anyone, I have not had the chance to watch Beetlejuice the Musical on tour. I'm sure it's just as good, but I couldn't resist a little fourth-wall breaking.

I don't offer a taglist for mature works, but you can find more on my masterlist.

[sparxwrites]

The Body Shots Incident

A prequel-ish to this nonsense, aka "the origin story of the Hermitcraft server party tequila ban". cw for lots of alcohol consumption and excessive innuendo [ao3]

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” asks Mumbo, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. He’s trying to delay the inevitable – primarily, being shirtless in front of a lot of people with Scar ‘Godlike Abs’ Goodtimes right next to him for comparison. It’s not working very well. “Just, I can think of, off the top of my head, oh, sixteen ways this could go wrong. At least three of them end with us respawning. At least.”

“Oh, no!” Scar, already reclining across a table in a distinctly louche manner, is nude from the waist up and looking distinctly self-satisfied about it. If anybody present knew who Jeff Goldblum was, multiple comparisons would have already been made. “It’s a terrible idea, and it’s going to go horribly wrong.”

Scar, unlike Mumbo, had taken his shirt off with precisely zero shame and absolutely maximum enthusiasm as soon as the whole concept had been suggested. It had taken three people – Bdubs included, remarkably – to stop him from removing his belt and pants as well.

Mumbo’s unclear whether the nearly-double-digits-worth of brightly coloured cocktails are to blame for Scar’s enthusiastic stripping, or whether this is just a Scar Thing. Probably just a Scar Thing, if he’s being honest. The man’s shredded. If Mumbo had pecs and abs like that, he’d take his shirt off all the time too.

“Okay, both of you, lie down,” says Pearl, officiously. Or as officious as one can be, after multiple bottles of Prosecco and a round of Jaeger bombs – which is frankly not very. She’s wielding a salt shaker in one hand, like it’s a hand grenade; two lime slices in the other, like– some other kind of weapon. Or something. Mumbo’s not exactly sober right now, either. Similes are a little beyond him at this point.

Scar, already draped elegantly across his own table, gestures to Mumbo with a raised eyebrow.

Mumbo, very reluctantly, sheds his shirt.

Grian, loitering next to Impulse, wolf-whistles in what Mumbo assumes is supposed to be a supportive sort of way. It doesn’t feel very supportive. Doesn’t do much to actually support him, either. Mostly, it just makes him go bright red – brighter red than he’d already gone, anyways, at having so much skin exposed in a room full of people.

Though admittedly not that many people, realistically. There’s him and Grian, as a team; Scar and Bdubs, as the opposing team; and Impulse, the judge of this ill-conceived competition. And Pearl, of course, as his self-proclaimed beautiful assistant. But pretty much every other Hermit is on the other side of the room, busy getting drunk and being noisy. Usual server party stuff.

It’s only them over here, with the two tables in the room not currently covered in alcohol and cups, because Grian and Bdubs had had a stupid argument, and decided that clearly the best way to solve it was a body shots competition, of all things. Which, yeah, sure, tracks as far as drunk Bdubs and Grian logic goes, but– Mumbo’s not even sure how you score a body shots competition.

That’s what they have Impulse for, though. Impulse knows how to judge a body shots competition. Probably.

So there’s not that many people watching, by the grace of any god paying attention. It’s just that, well. Mumbo has his shirt off. Right next to Scar Goodtimes, abs god extraordinaire. And Mumbo’s got no abs, and skin pale enough a vampire would flinch from it, and a soft little belly, and enough body hair it probably technically counts as thermal insulation.

And, to put the icing on the misery cake, pert little nipples. It’s not his fault it’s bloody cold with his shirt off but, for some reason, he doesn’t think that’s going to stop anyone from commenting on their pertness.

“Nice nips, Mumbo,” says Grian, as though he’d read Mumbo’s mind in the worst, most malicious way possible. He cackles when Mumbo turns self-consciously pink. “Hey! That was a compliment!”

Impulse clears his throat. “No– no commenting on competitors’ nipples without their explicit consent. Well-established rule of body shots competitions that I definitely didn’t just make up. I mean. Preferably no commenting on nipples at all but–”

“Don’t worry, Grian,” interjects Scar, cheerfully. “You can comment on my nipples all you like.”

“Thanks, Scar. That’s great. I appreciate the offer.” Grian does not, under any possible stretch of the imagination, sound like he appreciates the offer.

“Hey!” snaps Bdubs, immediately, outraged on a reflex. “No commenting on my competition partner’s nipples, okay?! Get your own!”

Grian, moderately drunk and visibly bewildered, flounders. “Get… my own nipples…?”

“Yeah! Get your own nipples, Mister!”

“Anyway,” says Impulse, loudly, clapping his hands together. Several Hermits look over. A few drift over for a closer look. Mumbo’s insides curl up like a dying spider. “If we could, uh, get things started…? Pearl–?”

Pearl crosses her arms.

“–sorry, my beautiful assistant, Pearl, could you do the salt, if our contestants want to lie down…?”

“On it!” says Pearl, with entirely too much glee. She approaches, menacing, salt shaker and lime slices in hand.

Both Scar and Mumbo, rather hurriedly, scramble to arrange themselves appropriately for their salting, and then endeavour to lie very, very still. They get a lime slice placed besides their head for their troubles.

Mumbo is chosen as the first victim for salting. He holds himself frozen on the table – deer-in-the-headlights frozen, even – as Pearl, tongue between her teeth in concentration, begins to tip salt in a line down his chest, right between his pecs. It’s a pretty wobbly line. Mumbo blames the Jaeger bombs.

“This is ridiculous,” mutters Grian, watching his half-naked best friend get salted like a slug by a drunk Australian. This, Mumbo feels, is a bit rich coming from the man who enthusiastically agreed to the idea when Bdubs proposed it.

Bdubs glowers at him by way of reply. Impulse just looks tired.

When Mumbo has had the appropriate salt applied, Pearl moves onto Scar. She wields the salt shaker like a loaded gun, and is doing a poor job of muffling her giggles. Those in her way move out of the way, very quickly, as she heads to Scar’s table.

“Do not get that on my nipples, by the way, Pearl,” says Scar, firmly, craning his head up as she approaches to watch the proceedings. “I don’t want any chafing!”

Pearl, already struggling to keep anything so much as approaching a straight face, barely manages to set the salt down before she doubles over in hysterics. “Im– Impulse–” she manages, wheezing, her grip on the edge of the table the only thing keeping her upright. “Gonna– tagging– tagging you in, mate, oh, oh my–”

Impulse, with an apologetic twist of the mouth in both Mumbo and Scar’s directions, takes up the salt.

His attempt at setting up a line of salt down Scar’s chest goes significantly better than Pearl’s did with Mumbo, primarily because he’s not a bottle and a half of prosecco down and sloppy drunk with it – just a few beers tipsy, instead. In short order, the pair of them are salted, with a lime slice ready to go in their mouths when the competition begins. Then he heads off to fill shot glasses of tequila, with the tongue-between-teeth concentration and unsteady hand of the moderately inebriated.

Bdubs and Grian take the opportunity to approach and examine their victims.

“Cute,” says Grian, and pokes Mumbo in the bellybutton.

Mumbo yelps, raising a hand to swat at him, before freezing when he remembers the salt. “Hey! No– no. I am sensitive. No poking.”

“Ooh,” interrupts Bdubs, peering nosily over at the competition. At Mumbo’s chest, specifically, and the thick fuzz of dark body hair growing across it. Much of the salt has ended up across it – or, rather, beneath it, within it, and amongst it. Mumbo’s not looking forward to tomorrow’s shower. “Look at that. Very nice. Lucky you!”

Grian raises an eyebrow. “Lucky?” he asks, disbelievingly. “I– look, no offence, Mumbo, I’ve got nothing against a good bit of chest hair, but… I’m just not convinced licking it is going to be the best sensation in the world.”

“Lucky,” repeats Bdubs, firmly.

“You want to swap…?” Grian is once more visibly bewildered. Though, admittedly, that’s not an uncommon expression to find people around Bdubs wearing. “Because that’s fine, I don’t mind–”

“I do not want you two to swap,” mutters Mumbo, nervously.

He’s concertedly ignored by everyone involved.

“Aha!” Bdubs grabs Grian by the front of his jumper with both hands. “So it is true. You are trying to steal Scar from me, and you do want to lick his– Scar! Stop laughing, you’ll ruin your salt.”

Scar manages to muffle himself down to stifled sniggers, with what looks like a Herculean effort of drunken willpower. “C’mon, Bdubs. Leave poor Grian alone. We can discuss him licking me when I don’t have salt, uh, perilously close to my delicate nipples.”

“How’re you managing pel– perir– pelirousy after nine cocktails?” demands Mumbo. “You can’t even bloody say that sober!”

He is, once again, ignored.

“I don’t want to discuss him licking you! I want him to not lick you! That’s not his job.” Bdubs sounds aggrieved. He does, however, obediently release the front of Grian’s jumper, stepping back to give the other man the stink eye. “He’s not Deputy Mayor, now, is he.”

Bdubs is, technically speaking, not Deputy Mayor either. It’s several months and an entire world since he was Deputy Mayor. But everyone present is aware that, for Bdubs at least, Deputy Mayor is less a job title and more an eternal-obsessive-crony-to-Mister-Scar-Goodtimes state of mind.

“Since when has licking the Mayor been part of the Deputy Mayor’s job?” asks Mumbo, of no one in particular, though he suspects the answer is since Bdubs got the job.

“I do not want to lick Scar,” says Grian, firmly. “I’d just, you know, prefer not to lick Mumbo’s chest hair. No offence, Mumbo.”

“Some taken, mate, I’m not gonna lie.”

Scar pouts. “You don’t want to lick my–?”

“Ladies, gentlemen, and uh, sentient mosses,” says Impulse, returning with the shot glasses. Pearl has given up on proceedings entirely, sinking down to sit against one of the table legs and looking distinctly out of it. Not out of it enough, however, to have surrendered the prosecco bottle she has in a death-grip. “If we could maybe get back on track with the competition…?”

“How’re we scoring this?” asks Grian, because of course he does. Grian plays to win, after all.

“Uhhh.” Impulse, preoccupied with setting the slightly precarious shot glasses down on Mumbo and Scar’s belly without spilling them, flounders. “I was thinking maybe, like, speed, and style, and… Spanish-ness…?”

“Tequila’s from Mexico, idiot,” interjects Bdubs, helpfully.

“Mexican-ness, then.”

“None of us are from Mexico, though,” Grian points out. “Or Spain. Or anywhere in South America or Europe, actually.”

“Fine! Fine, speed and style, fine, can we just– god, I need a drink. Can we get this over with so I can get a drink?” Impulse’s voice has picked up the whining desperation of a man powerfully regretting several recent life choices.

“Yes,” agrees Bdubs, emphatically. “I would really like to get started, oh yes.” He’s looking at Scar, laid out on the table, as though he’s a slab of particularly well-cooked steak. Scar – somewhat worryingly – preens beneath his hungry gaze.

Mumbo’s relieved when Grian, deciding for reasons known only to himself to be reasonable for once in his life, tosses Impulse a casual salute by way of agreement.

“Alright.” Impulse inhales, and exhales, as though to centre himself. Or perhaps brace himself. Either way, it adds an unexpected gravity to the situation which Mumbo could really do without. Bad enough he’s shirtless on a table covered in salt, without it feeling like some big deal. “Ready, everyone? Right. Lime slices in your mouths, Scar and Mumbo. Bdubs and Grian– On your marks. Get set. Go!”

Grian goes for speed. He’s done the shot, licked the salt, and bitten the lime out of Mumbo’s mouth before Mumbo even really knows what’s happened. He’s kind of grateful for it, honestly – like ripping a bandaid off.

Bdubs, of course, goes for style.

The noise Scar makes as Bdubs drags a tongue up his belly is positively pornographic. Bdubs is flushed red-cheeked from the shot, and Scar is flushed red from a tongue dragged across sensitive skin and taut muscle. By the time Bdubs cranes his head up to take the lime from Scar’s mouth, it’s more of a lewd, open-mouthed kiss than anything else. It’s like watching a train wreck. None of them can look away.

“…Well.” Impulse clears his throat, awkwardly. His nose looks a little pink. Even odds on whether it’s from the alcohol, or the display he’s just witnessed. “I, uh… I think I’m gonna have to call that one for Scar and Bdubs, guys? Um.”

Scar whoops, gleeful. “Yes! Bdubs, it’s official. We’re the best.”

“I,” announces Bdubs, with the smug delight of a man who’s just licked a line of salt off of Scar Goodtimes’s abs and gotten an award about it, “am going to find us some more tequila. To celebrate.”

He’s gone before any of them have the time – let alone the inclination or recovered cognitive faculties – to point out that that’s probably a bad idea.

There’s a long moment of silence, as they all slowly come to terms with what they’ve just done.

“Oh, god,” says Grian, miserably, breaking the quiet. He sticks two fingers in his mouth, and comes back with something dark and wiry clutched between them. “I’ve got bloody– Mumbo hair, in my mouth–”

Mumbo is not looking at Grian. Mumbo is busy staring at Scar, still laid out across the table and looking quite pleased with himself. “Yeah, well,” he says, “I think the rather more pressing issue is that Scar’s got–”

“Absolutely no need to comment on that,” says Scar, cheerfully, finally sitting up. There’s still a little salt clinging to his abs, shimmering and crystalline. It draws the eye to it, and then encourages the eye to move further down, to his happy trail, and then on to his– “Perfectly natural reaction to getting your stomach licked. You wouldn’t shame a man for his natural reactions, now, would you, Mumbo?”

Suddenly unable to make eye contact with Scar, Mumbo averts his gaze. As he does, he mutters something that sounds remarkably like, “Bloody well would.”

He is, once again, ignored.

Scar is saved from having to discuss the particulars of his natural reactions by a loud crash from the opposite side of the room. Grian, sensing trouble occurring that he’s not yet involved with, whips his head around with velociraptor-like enthusiasm and speed.

“Bdubs, please, I just really think you don’t need any more–”

“I won!” Bdubs is yelling, holding the bottle of half-full tequila above his head as high as he can – which, given his height, is not very. Somehow, despite being far taller and significantly more sober, Xisuma’s attempts at grabbing it are going exceedingly poorly indeed. “I won, I licked Mayor Scar so, so good and I won, which means I get to celebrate, okay? With tequila.”

“No– no, Bdubs, you– come on, please, that’s very– you know what you get like when you drink too much of that, please, I really don’t–”

“Let him drink!” yells Keralis, from the sidelines, with both his characteristic lasciviousness and the motivated enthusiasm of a man who had an excellent time last time Bdubs drank too much tequila. “It’s a democracy, Shishwammy. Let Bubbles drink! Or at least let us vote on whether he can drink. I vote yes.”

If it goes to a vote, Mumbo knows, Xisuma will lose. Keralis is not the only person who had an excellent time last time Bdubs drank too much tequila. Far from it, in fact.

“Bdubs–” wails Xisuma, now weeping openly. Bdubs is stanced for combat, knees bent and arms wide like a sumo wrestler, the neck of the tequila bottle gripped in one fist. His moss hoodie and undershirt, somewhere in the proceedings, have vanished from his body. A circle of interested Hermits, sensing the evening’s entertainment, is beginning to gather around the scene.

Scar, Grian, and Mumbo watch from the other side of the room in companionable silence for a long moment – soaking up the general chaos, and attempting to process what’s just happened, respectively.

Then Scar swings his legs off the table, and stands up, with an admirable amount of grace and balance for a man nine cocktails down and counting. It’s an ongoing, server-wide mystery that Scar somehow becomes more coordinated and better with his words when drunk, and it’s always struck Mumbo as deeply unfair. “…Do you think we should go help?” he asks, mildly, watching Xisuma make yet another failed grab for the tequila.

“Absolutely not,” says Mumbo, immediately and very firmly.

As he watches, Bdubs downs two large mouthfuls of the tequila without flinching, and manages to duck Xisuma’s lunge with the poise of a ballet dancer. Xisuma, regrettably helmetless, lunges head-first into a table full of bottles instead. The resulting crash shakes the floorboards. “I do not want to get mixed up in that, thank you.”

“I think we should go and make it worse, actually,” says Grian, brightly. He is, Mumbo notices, holding a prosecco bottle – prised from Pearl’s now-empty hands where she’s slumped half-snoring beneath the table. He takes a sip, directly from the bottle, and hums appreciatively.

“Why,” says Mumbo, weakly.

“‘Cos it’ll be funny. Duh.” Grian offers the bottle to Mumbo, and wrinkles his nose when Mumbo doesn’t take it.

“Excellent point, Grian.” Scar swipes the bottle instead, tilting it up and taking a hearty chug – because that’s the part of the evening they’ve gotten to, apparently. Chugging prosecco from a bottle. “See! This is why you’re the brains of the operation. However, consider– you could also go make out in the bathroom.”

“With who?”

Scar strikes a pose, arms out, abs flexed. “With me, of course!”

“Eww. No,” says Grian, as though he hasn’t made out with Scar at nine out of the last ten server parties. Mumbo should know. He’s been keeping track. For the Boatem Pool, of course. It’s important to have those kinds of numbers to crunch, when you’re trying to work out how and when your best friend and your other best friend are going to have sex for the first time. Which is, of course, a perfectly normal thing to be trying to work out, thank you very much.

“I just want you both know,” Mumbo interrupts, “that I want no part in this.”

Grian turns to look at him, and Mumbo quails beneath the intensity of the mischief in his gaze. “What,” he says, “not even the bathroom makeouts?” as though he hadn’t been objecting to said makeouts mere moments ago.

Mumbo is just a heartbeat too slow in his denial.

“Mumbo. Mumbo!” says Scar, brightly. He’s grinning at him, a salesman’s smile, a snake’s smile, all teeth and smirk. “If you want the rewards of bathroom makeouts, you have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of doing crimes with us! You should know that by now.”

“What does that mean?!” Mumbo’s beginning to wish he’d taken the prosecco when it was offered.

“It means you should come with me and we can both take our pants off in front of Xisuma,” whispers Scar, secretively. “As a distraction. So Grian can do crimes, while everyone’s distracted by our ahmayzin’, uhhh– underwear.”

Scar’s natural reaction, Mumbo cannot help but notice, has not quite subsided yet. And, despite his trousers sitting low on his hips, there’s not so much as hint of underwear peeking out above the waistband.

“Underwear,” Mumbo repeats, slowly. “Right.”

“Absolutely not,” says Grian, but Scar is already gone, sprinting towards the Hermits ringing Xisuma and Bdubs’ ongoing tequila battle. “No! Scar–! Keep your damn pants on!” And then he’s gone, too, chasing after Scar. Or the promise of chaos.

Or, more realistically, both.

In their aftermath, Mumbo sinks – miserable, shirtless, belly hair still faintly damp from being licked – to the floor. Consumed by his own bewilderment, it takes him a moment to realise there’s a hand on his head. Pearl, apparently awake again, is petting his hair gently.

“There, there, mate,” she says, sympathetically. Her eyes are bleary, but her hands are remarkably steady as she pulls a fresh bottle of prosecco from god-knows-where and uncorks it with her teeth in a manoeuvre that leaves Mumbo staring, impressed. “Prosecco?”

“…Yeah, actually,” says Mumbo, as the noises of tequila-based disaster from the other side of the room increase, abruptly, in volume. “Yeah. You know what? Why not.”

They sit in silence for a moment, watching the chaos unfolding. Xisuma is on the floor, weeping. Bdubs is shirtless, teeth bared, wielding a now mostly-empty bottle of tequila. Scar is invisible through the throng of other hermits now watching, heckling, egging them on – but Grian is yelling, “Scar! Put your trousers back on!”, which gives them a pretty clear mental picture.

“They’re going to have sex in that bathroom, aren’t they?” says Mumbo, absently, after a while. The prosecco has settled, warm and fizzy, in bottom of his already thoroughly alcohol-lined stomach. A pair of trousers just flew out of the middle of the Hermit huddle, which is rapidly looking less like a circle and more like an active, good-natured brawl.

“Yeah. Probably.” Pearl pauses, thoughtfully, and makes grabby hands at the prosecco bottle. Mumbo obediently passes it over. “That is, if they don’t just give up and fuck right in the middle of the party.”

Mumbo ignores that last bit, because if he starts thinking about that then he’s a bit concerned he’s going to have a natural reaction of his own. Across the room, Bdubs has begun wailing in misery, in the way only Bdubs can. “I should probably be there,” he says. “If they are. For Boatem Pool purposes, you know?”

“Boatem Pool purposes,” repeats Pearl, solemnly. “Totally.”

She passes the prosecco back, and fist-bumps the bottle in solidarity when he takes it. And then they sit there, in silence, sharing the rest of the drink between them as the sounds of tequila-based disaster fill the rest of the room.

[yumekomari]

Freminet comforting a trans friend

I don’t know about anyone else but I fully headcanon Freminet to be trans-masc. I was just up past midnight thinking how comforting I think he would be and how he’d try to support someone close to him who is trans or identifies with the trans experience. 

(I’m nonbinary and though it technically falls under the trans umbrella I know a lot of people don’t think it counts. I also experience gender dysphoria though and wrote this purely as a self indulgent piece because I needed it today…)

I also… have not read Freminet’s profile story nor listened to a majority of his voice lines yet so apologies if any of this is inaccurate or out of character.

This fic does lean romantic as I wrote it with that in mind but it’s mostly Freminet being flustered which could also read as him being shy (for the most part) so interpret it as you wish. This is pure comfort with a little fluff sprinkled here and there.

There is no mention of any specified gender or agab for the reader, this fic is for everyone <3

Reader pronouns used: You/Your

Written 21st October 2023

Word count: 2432

The evening is quiet as the dark of night has fallen over fontaine. The sound of silence fills the street as people snore away in their own beds. Not everywhere is quiet though as the sound of held back sobs and sniffles comes from the outskirts of the city. As a silhouette sits by the ocean, soft waves hitting the land at your feet, you sit curled up with your knees tight to your chest. Your own feelings trapped inside a scream you hold in as well as you can, a slight whimper leaving your lips every now and again as you once again have to hold it back.

At this time, a figure leaves his house in the night. The sound of his siblings snores and unstoppable thoughts keeping him from sleep. He lets out a sigh as he once again makes his way out to his favorite spot. That just so happens to also be by the sea. He is startled as he notices his friend is already sitting by the docks, one of the few people he counts as a friend… is sitting in his favorite spot, crying your eyes out. A tight tug in his chest is felt at the sight and though he doesn't initiate interactions often. Though he avoids people like the plague… how many times has his friend been there for him in his time of need? How many times have you comforted him and made him feel safe?... How many times has he felt guilty that he can’t do anything for you in return? Gathering all the courage he can muster, he takes another step forward. Letting the soft moonlight fall over his blond hair, dark blue coat that he’d haphazardly thrown over his pajamas and gentle freckles covering his face. 

He approaches slowly, a bit worried he might scare you. What if you didn’t want his company? Would you mind if he sat next to you? Did you want to be alone right now? He shakes his head a little, trying to get the thoughts out of his head. He continues walking until he’s stood just a bit behind you. 

“Hey… are you alright?” He voices softly out into the wind, waiting to see your reaction. You flinch at the notice that someone is around. You hastily wipe your tears before taking a small breath, risking a glance behind you to see who it is. “I’m fine thank you, just- oh…” You seem to calm a bit at noticing it’s him and he can’t help but feel a little happy that you don’t keep your hastily built iron walls in his presence. You soon finish drying your tears. “Yeah-... yeah I’m okay. Thank you though, Fremmie.” You look up at him with a small tight smile before facing back out to the ocean. A few moments go by as he tries to assess what to do next. Clearly you are not okay… but what can he do about it? 

Sensing his hesitance you glance over your shoulder at him, patting the space beside you, motioning for him to sit down as well. He smiles a bit, the warmth in his chest growing, knowing that he is wanted here. He goes to sit down next to you, letting his legs rest over the edge of the docks, slightly swinging them back and first as you watch the ever moving ocean waves together. “Couldn’t sleep?” You gently ask out loud after a couple minutes have gone by in the comfortable silence. He nods, playing with his fingers as he tries to think of what to say, he wanted to comfort you after all but where should he even start?

“Yeah… I thought maybe the sound of the ocean could calm me down… But are you sure you’re okay? I… saw you crying…” You seem to freeze a bit as he finally acknowledges the earlier scene he came across.

“You don't have to tell me if you don’t want to but… Just… I want to be here for you too, as much as you are for me. So… if you wanted to talk, I’ll be here to listen…” He says, trailing off a bit at the end, you managed to hear all of it though and silence falls once again over you both for a bit longer as you think over his words. You’ve both known each other for quite a while now, you know how difficult it can be for Freminet to get the words he wants to say out, though you have noticed he’s gotten better at it and you’re very proud of him for that. A few minutes go by in the silence before a voice once again fills the air.

“It’s just… my body… doesn’t feel right.” Freminet looks up at you, thinking over your words. You still haven’t faced him, just looking down to the water below them. “Just… all the social rules don’t feel right… The way that people address me doesn’t feel right… seeing my own reflection feels like there’s a stranger staring back at me… The clothes that people expect me to wear, the things people expect me to be interested in, the way they expect me to act, it’s all!...It’s all just… wrong.” 

He sees your grip on your knees tighten as you continue to speak. Your eyebrows forming lines over your forehead and your eyes once again growing glassy and foggy from the growing tears. He knows that feeling… better than he would have liked to… he knows what you’re going through. Looking back out over the horizon as a few birds dance silently through the sky, he speaks.

“I used to feel that way too… The clothing I would wear before I got to the orphanage, the way people expected me to act… the words people would address me with… the body I was born in… I know that feeling all too well.” You slowly lift your head from being buried in your knees. Turning to look at him after a moment, and he sees you out of the corner of his eye as you put the pieces together. “You… you too? you were…” You sound a little breathless, as if you didn’t believe it was possible but he simply nods. 

“But- How- How did you…How did you…get to where you are now?...How… How do I get there too?” You still sound as if he’s given you the results of a solution to an unsolvable problem and he can't help but smile at your reaction. He remembers being in the same seat when the possibility was offered to him. You seem to flush a bit at his smile but don’t dare look away. 

“After the orphanage took me in, we were all allowed to present however we wanted… and ´Father´ made sure that everyone was respected in that regard… The house of the hearth may be made to grow weapons for the Fatui but… somehow this… was an important rule to her… so no one dared to question it.” The house of the hearth may not be his favorite place but he can certainly thank ´Father´ for making the slight hope he had into a real possibility. And now, though the social rules still confound him and socializing is not his favorite thing, he gets to be himself now. And that, he’s thankful for.

You seem to be lost in thought for a moment, your gaze locked on the open air between you both. He takes in the way he can practically hear you thinking as the tear tracks on your cheeks slightly shimmer in the moonlight as they slowly dry. Your hair being swept by the wind every now and then as the waves of the ocean are the only ones speaking.

“Do you think… Do you think I could too?” You hesitantly whisper. A few seconds go by before you whip your head up from staring down at the floor of the docks. Freminet flinches for a second at the sharp movement but continues to listen for you to continue.

“Do you think… I could be myself too?...” Your voice a little louder, but he can see you’re not confident in the idea. As if it’s an impossible dream that you haven’t been allowed to even imagine. “I think so… and I want to support you… whatever you want to do about it.” He says quietly, a smile growing on his face as he once again looks down to his own hands, the eye contact becoming too much. Silence follows for a few moments and he starts to wonder if you heard him in the first place. Before he hears you sniffle again. Looking up in confusion he sees that you’re still looking straight at him, but the tears are once again streaming down your cheeks as you’re biting your lip trying not to let any sounds out.

He panics for a moment. He didn’t say anything wrong did he?! What is he supposed to do?? You see his panic though and do your best to give him a smile through the tears. “Thank you, I’d like that” You say as you try to wipe the tears again and he feels really relieved that they’re not sad tears anymore. He watches you try to stop the tears for a while but notices that they don’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. He feels himself lift his hand, not really sure what to do but… he trusts you, you make him feel safe and comfortable… and loved… he wants you to feel that way around him too. Before he can realize what he’s doing he’s grabbed your hand that was just on its way up to wipe more tears. For a second he doesn’t know what to do now that he’s gotten this far but even as he feels his face heat up from… embarrassment? flustered at his own boldness? He doesn’t quite know but regardless-

“It’s okay… sometimes you just need to let it out. Water carries emotions too you know?... and your tears might carry some of the negative ones you hold onto… so let them out please, and then you can fill that space with positive emotions instead…I… I’d like to help with that actually…if you’d allow it…” He trails off once again, feeling like his face is burning but still holding onto your hand. Tightly enough that you can feel safe but loose enough that you can easily get out if you so wanted to. He feels a bit awkward being so honest but it wouldn’t be the first time you both talked heavy emotions before. He feels your hand tighten a bit around his.

“I’d like that.. a lot actually.” You let out a small giggle through your still falling tears at the end and he glances up from both your interwoven hands to see your face is also carrying a gentle red and he can only imagine what his own face looks like at the moment. But he smiles back, keeping his focus on your hands. You both sit there in the silence, you sniffle here and there but otherwise the sound of the waves and the occasional bird is all that’s heard. Both your focus seems to be on your interlocked hands and at some point you start to rub little circles on his knuckles. He freezes for a moment at first but then starts to do the same to your own hand. A few more moments go by and neither of you have any idea what time it is or how long has passed by this point.

“If it’s okay to ask… How would you prefer to be addressed?... I know you might not want everyone to know yet, but… if you want, I could call you that when it’s just us?” You look up at him, away from the small fish that are now swimming in the water just below your feet. You look surprised at first and then really happy.. and then a bit thoughtful and confused again… But he only smiles a bit and looks back out to the ocean.

“It’s okay too if you don’t know yet… but whenever you do figure it out… if you want to, I could do that. And… if there’s anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable… then I’d like to. I’ll… I’ll always be here for you… okay?” He seems to get more and more shy as the sentence goes on but he doesn’t stop, because he knows these are words he wants to say. Words that he thinks are important that you hear… that you know. That you’re aware he’ll always support you, that he cares about you and wants you to be happy… That there is someone who understands…

He manages to throw you a glance through the layer of shyness now at the forefront after his honest words and almost finds himself back in a blushing mess by the way you’re looking at him with such warmth in your eyes. You smile at him and nod, most of your tears having dried by this point and you look at him with such a gentle, caring look as you hold his hand a little tighter. He can hear his own heartbeat in his ears as he tries to understand what that look means but before he has a chance you’re looking back out at the ocean… But you seem to be feeling a bit better. Whatever that feeling is, it can wait, as long as you’re okay, for the moment, everything is okay. He got the words out, you know he cares and will be there for you, he feels happy too as his goal of comforting you seems to have succeeded.

Maybe it’s time you both get some sleep soon, it is still in the middle of the night after all. But for just this moment, you stay and enjoy the midnight ocean breeze with him. You hold his hand with warmth and care. You smile despite the drying tear tracks and he can’t help but smile a bit too. 

It’ll be okay. You’ll figure it out and whenever you’re ready, he’ll be there to support you with all he’s got and he knows that his siblings would accept you with open arms as well should you be comfortable with them knowing. There are people who care about you who would understand and do everything in their power to help. And he’s proud to be one of them.

-----{ ❤ }-----

Thank you for reading, I hope you have a good day/night ❤

[cherriah-writes]

@somerandomdudelmao I have a gift for you I guess you could think of it as a redraw? Technically? I just loved this scene and looking at Ward's expressions and wondering what he's thinking

Ward followed Sculptor down the hall, battling his sense of unease. It had been his constant companion for the entire time they were on that cursed ship, and his nerves were fried. He still hadn't gotten used to the feeling of being constantly watched. Still, he tried to keep from jumping at every sound. Sculptor had only been helpful so far, and none of the vague threats of being eaten had come to fruition, so he decided to trust the tall, green alien as much as he trusted anyone there. (Which, honestly wasn't much, but he figured it counted for something.)

Plus, he wasn't sure what the aliens considered to be the price of disobedience, and he didn't particularly want to find out.

"Where are we going?" Ward asked after a few moments of silence.

"To my workshop," Sculptor answered lightly. "I want to learn more about your species."

"Ah." That was probably why he'd asked which of the two humans was smarter - Ward guessed Oscar would probably just ramble about turtles or something. "Great? I think."

He came up to the workshop, which was incredibly dark. Something about it made his instincts scream louder - like they were shouting at him, Danger! Danger! Danger!

He swallowed. "Wow... It's... really dark in here..." Please turn on the lights, he thought. 

"My apologies. My crew doesn't need any light to see. We only use lamps in public places for health reasons."

Like that made any sense. "Okay..." he said slowly. "Cool place, not creepy at all." Danger! Danger! Danger!

"Thank you," Sculptor said, apparently oblivious to Ward's sarcasm. "Now, before I begin, I want to remind you that we're in the middle of open space."

The light coming in from the hallway only illuminated a strange black ring in the ceiling of the workshop. As Ward watched, a dozen spider-like, mechanical arms lowered themselves out of the circle, their hissing, shifting noise seeming to worm its way into his brain. 

Oh, no.

"If you decide to run away," Sculptor continued in the same passive lilt, "you'll have nowhere to go."

Ward's heart stopped in his chest. He stared up at Sculptor, whose face was still the same neutral expression, like he'd been discussing something normal instead of - whatever this was. 

When had his eye things started glowing?

All the sudden, from all sides, the mechanical arms were grabbing him. With a strange strength and fluidity, they wrapped around his limbs, torso, head--

He tried desperately to fight them, but they were all around him, and he couldn't even get them to budge. His heart was racing, adrenaline lending him useless strength. "Hey! What are you... wait! Can we talk about this? What are you-"

His words grew muffled as one of the arms wrapped around his head, holding his mouth shut. He tried to scream, to yell, to do anything, but nothing came out. The other arms slowly stifled his mobility, holding him perfectly still. He breathed heavily through his nose, heart beating so heavily against his chest he thought it might break out. Panic was setting in, and he was hopelessly, helplessly still.

"I'm going to cut you open and see what your insides have to offer," Sculptor said with a smile - the only time throughout this entire disaster that he'd shown any kind of emotion. Ward blanched. "Don't worry. You won't feel a thing."

Ward watched one mechanical arm with an alarmingly sharp tip get closer to his face, then flinched as he felt a stinging, sharp pain against his neck. He screamed, silent to everyone but himself. 

The wound on the side of his neck didn't hurt as much as it should have, he was pretty sure. Despite his racing thoughts, it was hard for him to think. Blood loss? No, it couldn't be, not yet-

He closed his eyes and curled in on himself as much as he could in a vain attempt to protect himself - which, frankly, wasn't much. He shied away as he felt the Sculptor reach up and drag his finger against the wound.

He felt dizzy, and his head was getting foggier and foggier. It felt like his brain was slowly getting smothered, and his heart rate slowed down. Then, it kept slowing down. It lost speed until he wasn't even aware of it anymore - not that he was aware of much, at that point.

"Delicious indeed," Sculptor said, sounding pleased with himself. Ward's head shot up again in inexpressible fear, and Sculptor's leering, glowing face seemed to be the only thing in the room.

The door to the hallway closed behind Sculptor's head, cutting off the outside light. The only thing that Ward could see was the eerie glow of the alien's not-eyes. He felt a single stab of hopelessness before, mercifully, his thoughts slowed to a stop and he dropped into unconsciousness.

[naviculariis]

Where is Your God?

Word Count: 3,074

Warnings: Gore, Torture, Cannibalism ( is it cannibalism if you aren’t technically human anymore? ), Dead Dove: Do Not Eat territory here, folks. 

Rating: M.

Author’s Note: Okay so, Malekai originally comes from an original series that I’m creating. His home verse has nothing to do with One Piece. The Umi Umi no Mi is known as the Sea-Sea Fruit, and whoever eats it essentially gets to play the role of Davy Jones: the sea answers to them, cloaks their ship’s presence, etc. I’ll eventually explain it better, I promise. 

Gulls cried overhead, creating a chorus that mingled with merchants calling out their prices for their fresh catches, for their wares that had arrived upon the cargo ships, of street urchins bartering and badgering. The market existed across from the port rather than in the heart of the city, which allowed for sunlight to warm the stone and cast away the fog that had lingered throughout the morning, turning the once dreary day lighter.  Civilians and Marines alike made their way through the port-side market, perusing stall after stall, blissfully unaware of what was happening mere feet from their docile, comfortable livelihoods. The cacophony of sounds hid the sharp screams for help that echoed periodically from a ship within the port. Bargains between customer and peddler; laughter drifting across the waters.

 The ship was grand, a Galleon that had obvious love and care put into her. Her wood seemed to be stained a vibrant, rich red; whatever lacquer had been used to stain and protect would have cost a pretty penny. Her masts rose high, with ivory sails that were tucked in for the time being. The crew of this magnificent ship mulled about on deck, seemingly taking the morning to rest while they await for their captain. The hull creaked gently as it was rocked by the waters of the Cobalt Port. 

The waves were a touch choppy; white caps further out from the port, signaling rougher seas to be seen. Storm season was quickly approaching, after all. 

 The Captain paced slowly, silently, across the floor of the lower deck of the Crimson Grace, as if the ship and water it floated upon answered his need for secrecy. The sound of footsteps were muffled, the leather of boots creaking gently as each step met darkly stained wood, the sins of the past having wept into the floorboards. A fat tabby cat lounged upon an empty barrel of ale, tail flicking left and right as its green gaze watched the man curiously, waiting for his next move. When he stepped close enough, the cat rolled over onto its back, baring his belly for scratches that were gladly given from a gloved hand, finely crafted leather with crimson stitching. A purr rumbled free from the sweet creature, its eyes slowly shutting as the hand drifted up to offer a scratch beneath its chin for a moment. The hand retreated, but the feline did not move aside from its tail, which continued to flick to and fro against the oaken barrel, eyes still shut in bliss. 

The unruly waves of the Cobalt Port broke against the hull of the ship, adding to the soft chorus of muffled whimpers; the beautiful music of pain and fear mingling. Each footfall brought forth another whimper, another gasp, another flinch backwards into the rickety chair whose legs were close to breaking and seemed to creak with every minuscule movement. The Marine, a tall man in his late twenties, feared that if he were to lean back any farther, it would simply give way, sending him sprawling back onto the wooden floor. His breath came forth in stuttering pants; he’d lost feeling in his left hand, and his right was quickly following. This meant that grasping his blade- if he even got the chance- wouldn’t work, not if his hands were numbed to the point of non functioning due to the harsh angle his shoulders were forced into resting. The coarse rope tied far too tightly around his wrists dug in painfully, chaffing the skin to the point of bleeding, rubbed raw; blood dripping down his hands to mingle with the blood that dripped from his fingers due to the missing fingernails. Blood dripped from the tips of his fingers slowly, dropping into the pool of crimson that had formed below.

The Captain turned on his heel suddenly, making the Marine jump in his chair. No hat to hide behind, no gun to draw- no, those had been stolen from him when he’d been jumped and drugged with an aromatic cloth in the early morning hours before the sun rose. “The Vice Admiral will be looking for me,” the Marine tried to speak around the gag in his mouth, having found his voice once more. It came out garbled, more akin to “Ha ich amiral ill e ooing or ee”. A laugh escaped the captain- his head tilting back, long, strawberry blonde hair swaying with the movement, mouth wide open to reveal sharpened incisors and canines- akin to what a wolf’s mouth would look like, the Marine realized belatedly. ‘Oh, Gods, please spare me from this wolf,’ he prayed silently, hoping that some deity above would answer his pleas for mercy. Like a lamb cornered in the pasture by a hungry wolf, bleating for its mother who would not come.

It seemed as if mercy did not exist within this hellscape of a pirate ship. 

“You’ve no rank that matters to me,” the Captain spoke softly- a tone that would have been calming had the threat not been present. A rank would make little difference now. “You won’t be missed. You’re just a grunt. You’ll be labeled a deserter.” Sighing, he shook his head, wavy tresses following the movement, causing the rings within the braids to jingle ever so softly. “And you’re lying to me!” His arms crossed over his chest, drawing attention to the ink that settled in the skin of his left forearm; tentacles, it seemed to be, winding around his arm and onto the back of his hand, before curling around to his palm, ending with the longest tentacle wound around his middle finger. Leaning down, eyes the same color of grave dirt studied the man with a sense of morbid curiosity, drawing his attention from the intricate tattoo to meet his gaze once more.

The Marine’s once neatly trimmed brown hair had been matted by a mixture of sea water and dried blood. His face had once been a lively shade of beige with rosy cheeks flushed from the spring sunlight, but was no longer pretty. Instead, it now resembled a macabre mask of bruises and cuts. His lip had been split open, blood and saliva mixing and spilling over his chin, dribbling down onto the torn, once-white shirt that had been soaked through with sweat, sea water, blood, and bile.

“I do not like it when people lie to me, Sir.”

The Marine shook his head quickly, voice abandoning him once more as his mouth worked around silent syllables. His gaze, a blue so vivid it appeared crystalline, was wide, pupils blown from the pain and fear mixing with adrenaline within his veins. His chest heaved as fresh pain arched through his body from the movement; broken ribs screamed at him to please stop moving, please, we’re tired. Fresh blood oozed from a trio of deep lacerations in his chest, the skin ripping apart once more, undoing the minor scabbing that had begun, staining the fabric of his uniform further. 

“You… are not lying to me?” Malekai asked, eyes widening as faux innocence colored his features. In that moment, he appeared to be naught older than twenty and five, despite being nearly double that age. But the Marine knew better; he’d become the Wolf of the Seas for a reason. “Oh, then I must apologize for this entire situation!” His fingers hooked in the rope that had been used as a gag, undoing the knot that kept it in place, giving the knight a moment of respite. A thankful gasp spilled free as he was allowed a single breath of fresh, unfiltered air- 

until Malekai roughly took hold of the ends of the rope and tugged the knight’s head back suddenly, rocking the chair back with the movement. A scream of anguish escaped the knight as the corners of his mouth ripped from the movement, fresh blood spilling down his cheeks, filling his mouth, gagging him, coloring the tan rope a deep scarlet. “Oh, I am so sorry! Does this hurt?” Malekai hissed as he roughly drug the rope back and forth quickly, creating friction for a rope burn across the knight’s face, dragging it deeper into the lacerations he’d created, ripping the flesh further and further. “You see, we must not be communicating properly,” his hands finally stilled, releasing the rope to reach up, cupping his bloody jaw, drawing the knight’s tear-filled gaze to meet his own brown. He leaned close- close enough to kiss if the situation had been different. His gaze swept across his face slowly, drinking in the tears and blood, the unmistakable scent of iron thick in the air that lingered between them. “Because I know you are lying to me. How, you may ask? Because I have eyes and ears all over this city, and I have witnesses that put Marine vessels in the North Blue, near the shoreline of More-Lesa. You think your little Vice Admiral runs this city but that is wrong, little Marine. I do. I run this city, and this city answers to me. I am your King, don’t you know?”

The Marine whimpered; he’d been caught, and now he was going to die, body tossed into the Cobalt Port and never to be seen again, weighed down by stones to forever rest at the bottom of the ocean. What about his wife? His child? What would happen to them? Oh, sweet Hera, please watch over them! When Malekai leaned in, he shuddered. Oh- oh, Gods above, that was his tongue dragging up his cheek, leaving a wet smear in its wake! A hum spilled free from the Captain at the taste of salt and iron mingling. The Marine tried to lean back, to put space between them, but Malekai leaned with him to tower over his slight form. Piss dribbled down his pant legs as his bladder lost control, mixing with the urine that had long since dried. 

“Yes, so you see,” Malekai murmured as his hands smoothed over mottled, torn flesh before he straddled his lap, full weight bearing down upon his thighs, arms resting around his shoulders. Chest to chest, no way to escape as his fingers wove through brown locks. It was jarring to be touched so gently after the hours of torture, to be caressed as if they were lovers. “You have one more chance to tell me the truth. You can try to scream, to cry, to beg- but no one will hear you. Do you know why? No, no, do not try to answer- Malekai is speaking, and I will tell you why you will not be heard by the people walking outside! It is high tide now, and a storm is coming in. Listen, can you hear the thunder?” He fell silent, watching as the Marine struggled to hear over the Lessan accent of Malekai. Distantly, he could hear it- the thunder rolling over the water. That explains why the waters were growing rougher by the minute, the shop rocking with the waves. “It is nearly eleven o’clock in the morning as well; the fish market will be busy, and the merchants are calling out their prices for their wares and catches of the day. No one is going to hear you down here, under my waters, beneath my deck, little Marine.” He cooed, lips drawing into a slow, small smile. 

“Please,” the knight sobbed softly, voice shaking from the effort of moving his torn mouth. “I don’t know. I was just told by the Vice Admiral to deliver the message, that’s all!”

“Oh, a message?” Malekai mused, eyes widening in curiosity. “What message would that be?”

“I don’t-”

Malekai clicked his tongue as his fingers wound themselves around long brunette locks, yanking hard enough that clumps snapped free from his scalp, drawing forth a new scream. “Did I not make myself clear, sweetling?” He hissed, rising from his temporary seat as he tilted the knight’s head back, “You will not be making it out of here alive, no matter what tricks you try to pull! It would be much easier if you simply told me the truth, yes?” He gave another harsh tug before dropping his hand away with a disgusted grunt, lips curled into a scowl. “Why must you be so difficult? I am being quite nice, I believe.” 

“All I was told was to tell him that Mihawk had made contact with Red Hair Shanks!” His voice was frantic as he watched Malekai move back. “And that plans were moving smoothly regarding something called a Pacifista!” Relief crossed his mottled features as he sagged in the chair. The bonds had gotten looser; his left hand was numb enough that- there! Breaking his own thumb, he was able to slip the bond off of his wrist and retrieve the short knife in his sleeve.

“Now, was that so difficult?” Malekai sighed as he rolled his shoulders, gaze drifting to a dark corner of the hull. “Now, you will tell me-” before he could finish his sentence, the sound of a fight beginning overhead caught his attention. Brows drawing inward, he sighed. “What are they doing? I told them-” his voice cut off at the feeling of pain flaring up in his side, a pained noise escaping him as he glanced down to meet the Marine’s frantic gaze. Brow raising, his gaze trailed further down to the knife embedded in his side. “Oh, you stupid, pitiful fool,” he cooed, turning to face him. 

There was a shift in the air, then, the Marine realized- as if the shadows of the hull had grown darker, denser, the fire in the oil lamp flickering with the breeze of an unfelt wind. The lamp spluttered, attempting to keep the flame alive. Quietly, he began to pray, “Through the valley of the shadow-” he couldn’t finish the prayer, for his words were stolen as the oil lamps were extinguished by invisible hands- one after the other. Whispers began to flood the hull, none of the words making any sense- too many languages jumbling together. Fear gripped him, giving him clarity. “Oh, sweet merciful Death, the rumors-”

“Were true.” Malekai finished for him. In the light that broke through the cracks of the floor above them, he looked more like a demon from the depths of the sea than a human. Teeth far too white, eyes far too bright, his body seeming to contort and shift in the shadows. The scent of the sea air grew thicker, strangling him; salt, brine, rotting fish. It felt as if the oxygen was being sucked out of the hull, as if he had suddenly plunged hundreds of feet below the surface of the sea with the pressure. He struggled to breath, gasping for air as his lungs struggled. “Tell me,” Malekai whispered; despite standing in front of him, he clearly heard the voice coming from behind him as breath tickled the back of his neck, as a hand slid along his shoulder blades before wrapping around his throat while Malekai leaned close, close, too close.

Close enough that he could see the tattoo moving across Malekai’s arm, extending down, coming to life with a sickening wet sound that had his heart freezing within his chest. He looked back up, meeting grave dirt eyes.

“Where are your so-called Gods now, Marine?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The fat tabby cat sat upon the barrel of ale, licking its paw of the blood that had gotten onto its fur. Malekai sighed, using the remnants of his shirt to wipe the gore from his mouth, his face, his hands. His left arm ached, but then again, it always did whenever he had to resort to using a more hands-on approach. His clothes were ruined, soiled by blood, urine, and a bit of vomit from the Marine. It was interesting to see how people would react in the face of death.

The heart was still warm, still dripping, as he clutched it in his palm, creating a little pool on the floor. Turning on his heel, he made his way to where an ornate little box of Wano make sat undisturbed upon a keg of black powder. Carefully, he placed the wedding ring taken from the Knight’s hand within the box- to join countless others that gleamed in the low lamplight. As footsteps began to clunk down down the stairs, he raised his bloodied hand to his mouth, licking a slow stripe through the viscous liquid with the broad, flat part of his tongue, until his lips met with the meat of the heart. Mouth opening, teeth settled within the flesh as blood spilled forth. A gag escaped his new guest at the sight as Malekai hummed, chewing slowly before swallowing. A rag was tossed his way; he caught it with a roll of his eyes. Tossing the heart into an empty bucket, he began to clean his hands of the blood. 

Darkened fingers of a right hand gave the cat a scratch behind the ears before the owner of the hand turned, meeting the gaze of their Captain. “What’d you do, decide to bathe in his blood like the old Janoshima Empress?” Kaith asked, not daring to step any further down than the eighth step of fifteen. “They’re gonna complain about having to clean up this mess.”

“Then let them complain,” Malekai replied with a flippant shrug. “I am going to bathe, and then we need to set sail for Mary Geoise. I need to meet on neutral ground to make my requirements be known.” Tugging his shirt over his head, he tossed it aside, ignoring the wet splat it made as it landed in a pool of blood. No body was left to discard of- only blood. 

Only ever blood. 

“Did you make him sing?” Kaith asked, gaze trailing across the mess that covered Malekai. Strawberry blonde waves dripping with blood, trousers soaked with Gods only know what, left hand shaking with a tremor that would leave within the hour. His face was still covered in the gore; he’d been messier than normal this time, no doubt due to the angered seas. Seas that answered to him. 

The owner of the legendary Logia fruit, the Umi Umi no Mi. 

A smile- cold, cruel, dangerous- split across the captain’s lips as he gazed up at his little Shadow, enveloped in the dying light of the day. “Oh, like the sirens of mythos.” 

[newsie-collective]

Tommy Boy

Hi I know that technically Specs and Tommy tied But I didn't want to make any of y'all to wait any longer I'm so sorry to that one specific person who always reblogs our polls with Specs hype

T/W for transphobia & Refuge talk below the break

Quickfire Favorites

Food: “Pepp’mints! Really like the sof’ ones.”

Color: “Yella. Like the sun. N sunflowers.”

Season: “I don’ have a pa’ticler favorite season.”

Weather: “Sunny. I like sunny days ‘cos then I get to walk ‘round an’ hawk wit’ me fellas.”

Hobby: “Jacobi le’me help in the kitchen once. That was real fun. Wish he woul’ le’me do it again.”

Animal: “Do Blink count? I’on think I knows ‘nough animals to have a favorite.”

Memory: “Movin’ to Manhattan. Ev’ryone was real nice. Finch was gon’ fight ev’ryone that ain’t get my gender right.”

Comfort Item: “I don’t really got one. Ain’t never really had nothin’ to keep.”

Buckle up folks, this one’s real fucked up

Tommy Boy pretends to hate his nickname but it makes him feel fluttery inside. He rolls his eyes and groans and shoves Finch every time he says Tommy Boy/my main man/my home boy/anything else with boy or man. But it makes him giddy and excited

Because he’s a boy

And he knows all the others would fight for him

And that makes him feel real nice

Only knows how to solve things with his fist (but he and Albert are learning together)

He’s also still learning how to take compassion from the newsies. And how to not flinch when the others go to high five or hug him

Because non pain inducing hands on him is weird

He puts his hands in his pockets because he’s scared of hurting his friends or scaring them

He tells everyone it’s so he doesn’t get pickpocketed

Surprisingly good at cooking

Honestly dumb as fuck

Like most of the newsies have either street or book smarts

Tommy has neither

Puts the sexy in dyslexia

Thinks he can do no wrong

Not in a pretentious way 

In a “I just learned I had dyslexia, something I’ve been angry about my whole life, but when someone explained what it was to me, it doesn’t bother me anymore. It’s just a part of me and that’s neat” like a psychopath

Just kinda very aware of the fact that no one is made perfectly, and has come to terms with that

Likes to pull pranks

No longer dumb enough to pull them on Elmer or Davey 

Because they always know

And they know where he hides

And that’s not fair

He’s an angry crier. And he hates it. He hates crying, it makes him feel weaker than he already does when his emotions get the better of him

When he’s only a little mad, he yells to try and feel bigger (it’s a defense mechanism), if it gets worse he starts crying (even though he tries and fights it), and if it keeps getting worse he starts hitting things (he usually turns his anger to trees or punching bags. Inanimate objects. He doesn’t like hurting people), but it’s when he goes silent that’s the scariest. Because no one can tell what he’s thinking or what’s gonna happen. And he just stews in it

Loves music. Prefers music without words, but hates classical music.

When he gets affectionate, he likes holding people (and by people I mean Mush and Specs and Blink and occasionally Finch) but when he gets real deep in his head he needs to be held and his hair played with and just told that everything’s gonna be okay. His head is a dark fucking place. And he sometimes needs help finding his way out.

Jojo used to attack him with cuddles and hugs when he’d get too wound up

That earned Jojo several black eyes when they were first happening

“I love you Tommy Boy”

“Fuck you”

Flirty comments come easy to him. Except when it comes to his partners. They make him so nervous

Was really wary of Les and Davey hanging around, because they felt like outsiders, but Les once roasted Morris so hard that Tommy laughed for at least half an hour. He stayed close to Les when the brothers would come around.

He didn't wanna miss anything else the kid said.

Originally from Brooklyn, but they were too rowdy and angry, he kept getting triggered into panic attacks (and also a few of them kept deadnaming and misgendering him) so he moved to Manhattan

Most of the newsies that don’t know him are intimidated. 

“That’s Tommy from Brooklyn… I hear they kicked him ‘cross the bridge because he was too wild for even Spot Conlon”

Doesn’t care about the rumors. He’s okay with intimidating the people he doesn’t know.

Real fucked up backstory shit:

His birth name was Tamsyn, and he had a twin brother named Thomas. 

His brother was the first person he’d told about feeling more like a boy than a girl. And Thomas was so supportive of him. 

And one day, Thomas disappeared. 

Tommy’s dad wouldn’t tell him what happened, just that Tommy didn’t have a brother anymore. 

And Tommy knew that he was in danger. And he ran away. He stole some clothes to blend in with the newsboys on the street, got sent to the Refuge for three months, where he was kept in the feminine section of the prison.

Tommy was originally sentenced to one month, but he fought against Snyder when he tried to take Bumlets away, once he realized what was happening.

He stood up for others in the Refuge who were getting bullied and abused by Snyder.

He ended up at the Brooklyn boarding house not long after his release. He’d gotten tougher and buff while in the Refuge, and he’d finally gotten some clothes to wear (and keep)

Not many of them were too kind about his transition. Spot had only just become a leader for the boys, and was still trying to get his regime under control. Hotshot was one of the kindest to him, and one of the few he told about leaving.

Spot, Hotshot, and Swipe were the only three he told.

He crossed the bridge to Manhattan, talking to Kloppman about everything that had happened, and moved in that same night. 

He adopted his brother’s name in honor of him, but the others thought Thomas was too hoity toity for a newsie, so they called him Tommy. 

And then he told them that he hadn’t always been a boy, and that’s why he got called Tamsyn and she a lot. 

And so Finch starts his crusade to get everyone to call him Tommy Boy.

I hope y'all loved reading that as much as I loved writing it

Please no one mention how it's been not even a week and we already messed up our timing again

👻

[princesskiii]

➸❥ A foggy stage

���𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 !

Agere, Regressor!Catherine Parr, Caregiver!Catherine of Aragon, Technically accidental regression but not really, Cathy goes non-verbal, 2110 words of me projecting my regression onto my blorbo, kinda baby space but no age is mentioned.

↳ Catherine Parr, Catherine of Aragon

𝐀𝐨𝟑

2.110 words

Cathy fidgeted with the microphone in their hand, bouncing slightly on their heels. 

There was an urge to bite their wrist at the back of their mind. One which they strategically ignored. 

Cathy counted the people on stage. They already knew, it wasn't that hard to know.

2 alternates, playing Kate and Jane. The other 3 were the actual women. 

They'd just finished don't lose your head. And Cathy was mentally preparing so they wouldn't miss a cue. They still had the feeling they would, though.

Anne's voice blasted inside their ears. Not really helping considering their sound sensitivity. It never quite bothered them as much as it did now normally.

"It's called wearing yellow to a funeral! Hit the lights!" Anne cheered.

Cathy quickly shook out of their thoughts, trying their very best to ignore the growing fog in their mind. 

"Catherine was a mASSIVE-"

The others quickly yelled to stop her. Cathy flinched at the noise. 

Anna walked up to Anne, Cathy hesitating before following along. "When did we decide you were the winner?"

Cathy lost their line in the fog for a moment, bringing the microphone to their mouth before faltering. 

"She wants another turn." The alternate for Kate quickly stepped in, shooting a concerned glance Cathy's way. 

"Over my dead body!"

No no, they'd come to this point they had to survive through the show. They took in a quick breath, trying to steady the panic in their chest which seemed to worsen the barrier forming in their mind.

"Anyway i do believe it's my turn next." Jane's alternate spoke, the queens turning to her.

"You? Queen, please!" 

They tried their very best mocking laugh and brought their microphone to their mouth. "I mean are you being for real?"

"Yeah weren't the one he truly loved?"

"Didn't you give him the son he so desperately wanted?"

"Yeah, like, i had a daughter and he literally chopped my head off." Anne grinned, though giving a small concerned side eye to Cathy when she noticed them fidgeting an unusual amount. 

"Yeah, okay i was lucky. Okay i was, really, lucky."

Cathy didn't bother intently listening to the rest of the monologue, they could recite it by heart anyway. They scanned the audience, how well they could see almost every face in the theater always surprised them. They always thought it'd be rather hard considering how dark it was.

Cathy turned to look at their godmother, who unlike them was intently listening to the monologue. The look on her face didn’t much help the survivor’s current state.

“..It’s because.. i.. loved him!”

The tune of heart of stone started playing, to which the queens immediately reacted in heading for the stairs. When Cathy was sure the others wouldn’t notice, they started biting at their wrists and fingers.

That wasn't a good idea, it seemed. The fog in their mind turned to something Cathy couldn't ignore but neither fight off much. 

Cathy turned to look at the other queens, who were either focused on the song or making quiet small talk.

The survivor whined, biting down harder on their skin while their free hand went to squeeze and hit their thighs. 

A hit came harder then they'd meant it to, making them flinch and apparantly also alerting Catalina. 

"Cathy?" Catalina took out one of her in ears, scooting a little closer to her goddaughter. She gently placed her hand on their shoulder, making them whine. 

She softly worked their in-ears too, taking them out by the strings and hoping to god that wouldn't damage anything. "Hey there Mija, can you look at me?"

The tone didn't help Cathy's state at all, actually it might have been what threw them over the edge. 

Nevertheless they did as they were told. The look in their eyes immediately betrayed their state to Catalina. 

"Oh, sweetheart." Okay yeah, Cathy had fully slipped by now. "Let's get you out of here alright?" 

Cathy couldn't bring themselves to argue, and neither did they fight it when Catalina alerted Anne before taking their hand and leading them off stage. 

Catalina led them to her dressing room, instead of the one they shared with Anna.

There, Catalina sat them down on the couch. As Cathy searched their extremely foggy mind for an age to describe how they were feeling, Catalina set out to find anything add some extra comfort to their situation. 

They were biting, right, a regressed Catherine Parr loves to bite things. Catalina knew that all too well after being used as a chewing toy one too many times. She'd bought a few chewing sensory toys, now if only she could find the one she kept in the theater. 

"Ah! Got it!" Catalina cheered, heading to Cathy and slipping a chewing bracelet onto their wrist. "There we go, so you don't hurt yourself, alright chiquitita?" 

Cathy nodded, starting to bite at it the moment they could. 

"Alright love, i'm just going to get two alternates to cover for us for the rest of the show okay?" Catalina said, kneeling in front of them and holding their free hand. 

Cathy whined, which Catalina chuckled at, but they nodded again eitherway. 

"I'll be back soon, Cariña." She reassured before leaving to find any alternates to take their place.

Cathy continued to chew as they waited, leaving the growing icky feeling in their stomach to identify and deal with when they got out of their headspace.

It didn't take long for Catalina to return, at which point Cathy realized they couldn't hear the muffled music from their in-ears anymore. 

The moment the older woman was in reach Cathy whined and reached out to her, putting on the best puppy face they could to get the snuggles they desired.

Catalina obeyed with a laugh, picking Cathy up and getting a comfortable position on the couch before allowing the younger to adjust themselves into her embrace.

"Hi there." She grinned, gently rubbing Cathy's cheek with her thumb which they gladly leaned into.

Cathy waved in response, a bright smile on their own face.

Catalina raised a brow. "No talking today?" She hummed giggling slightly when Cathy stuck out their tongue in an attempt to gather an answer.

"Too.. tiny." They responded, almost hesitantly. Catalina's grin widened at the realization, giggling slightly. 

"I see. Too much fog in the mind to remember how words work?" Cathy nodded enthusiastically, incredibly happy that they were understood. "Alright querida, that's okay." 

Catalina set to work softly undoing the hairstyle they wore for the show, imagining it not being the most comfortable thing, Cathy shot her a small confused look, tilting their head. 

The first queen did so successfully, setting aside their spiky crown and ruffling their hair before gently working it into a normal enough state. She made a mental note to brush their hair when they were satisfied with the cuddles.

Cathy puffed out their cheeks in a response as Catalina messed with their hair. Catalina barked out a laugh, poking their cheek in return. 

"I think i still have a few of those cookies Jane made. How about that baby? Hm?" Catalina asked, gently untangling a few more strands of Cathy's hair.

Cathy let out a small gasp, before nodding happily. They quickly jumped off the couch and waited with open arms.

Catalina shook her head fondly, getting up and doing as requested. The universe was so merciful for making Cathy easy to carry.

Catalina hoisted them up on her hip. Cathy immediately cuddled into her, resting their head on her shoulder. 

She hummed, smiling as she started her very short journey to the lunch room where she'd stored the left-over sweets. "You're really deep, aren't you?" 

Cathy looked up and tilted their head in confusion at the question.

"Oh yup, that's all the answers i need." 

Now admittedly, opening the doors was a challenge but nothing Catalina hasn't faced before. 

Catalina set the little onto the counter, searching the cabinets for the container she'd left the sweets in.

Cathy whined at the lost contact, immediately searching to get it back by reaching for one of Catalina's hands. 

The older humored them with a smile, swinging their intertwined hands back and forth as she searched. 

"Oh, here they are." Catalina got out the container with a little more effort then it would have been if she had both hands. 

"Should i break them into little pieces? I know cookies and those kinds of snacks can be a bit hard for you when you're so young like this." 

Cathy pouted, reaching for cookies and completely ignoring the question. 

Catalina raised a brow, grinning slightly in amusement. "Mi tesoro, you gotta answer." She chuckled when Cathy whined again.

"Come on, Princesa. You don't need to say anything, just shake your head yes or no." Catalina said softly, rather amused at the ever growing pout on Cathy's face. 

Cathy whined again but nodded even though they didn't stop trying to reach for the treat.   

"Alright love, but i gotta use both my hands alright? You can hold onto me though." The older let go of Cathy's hand, to which they immediately reacted to by wrapping their arms around her waist.

Catalina started breaking the treats into smaller pieces, handing them to Cathy when she'd finished a piece. Cathy happily munched down, cooing in content. 

"Be careful, Nena. Don't eat that fast. I'm not taking these safety measures only for you to choke because you're eating it all so fast." Catalina chuckled, gently holding Cathy back from downing another piece. 

Cathy whined and pouted, trying to chew faster. 

"Oh lord, Amor, wouldn't you rather enjoy your treat instead of going so quick that it's all gone so soon?"

Cathy gasped, quickly shaking their head. Catalina chuckled. "Then you gotta slow down." 

Cathy considered it, ultimately deciding it would be a good idea to not hurt themselves by eating cookies. 

"Good choice, Mija." Catalina giggled, allowing Cathy to continue eating her snacks.

"If Anne asks, tell her I gave you a few slices of an apple." Catalina added, breaking apart the last cookie and handing the small pieces to her goddaughter. 

Cathy tilted their head but nodded, munching on the last piece as Catalina cleaned up the evidence. 

"Was that tasty, Amor?" Catalina asked, smiling softly. Cathy nodded enthusiastically, a bright smile on their face. 

Catalina giggled. "How about we head back, we can play a bit or watch one of your cartoons yeah? And we can go watch the girls do the megasix later if you're up for it."

Cathy nodded, clapping happily as Catalina picked them up and set them on her hip again.

"What would you wanna do?" Catalina asked, adjusting Cathy so they were securely on her hip before setting out for her dressing room once again. 

Cathy opened their mouth to respond. But hesitated and retreated back while biting on their index finger.

Catalina hummed, gently showing them their chewing bracelet to remind them to bite that instead. "It's okay Princesa, you can choose when we get there." 

When they arrived Catalina set Cathy down and got our her emergency Cathy toy box, but also grabbed her laptop for if the regressed girl wanted to cuddle and watch a cartoon instead.

Cathy made a show of reaching for the laptop from their spot on the floor.

They pointed at it when Catalina came close enough to pick them up again, looking ul at her with the most innocent eyes Catalina had ever seen.

"So a show? Alright, Tesoro, get comfy on the couch."

 Cathy nodded, getting up to waddle over to the couch. Where they, once again, made a show of whining and reaching for Catalina's hand.

Catalina barked out a laugh. "I'm coming, i'm coming." She grabbed the laptop and sat on the couch. She readjusted the both of them so they could comfortably cuddle while watching their show.

Catalina gave Cathy a few to choose from, some thing's not too hard to follow in consideration of how young they seemed.

After Cathy made their choice the two cuddled closer to each other, the younger staring in wonder at the screen.

They looked up. "Ca.. Catty." They mumbled, their face contorted in concentration as they tried to find the right words. "Love you." 

Catalina cooed, her heart positively melting as Cathy reached to press a small sloppy kiss against her cheek. 

"I love you too."

@autisticscotty @woofberry-regrets-everything

Hi hi! You two seemed pretty interested in this fic so i thought i'd tag you so you wouldn't somehow miss it <3 sorry if you didn't want to be!

[nancythebisexualslutwheeler]

She hadn’t wanted to end things with Lucas, of course, she hadn’t, but he was too caring, which turned into too nosy, and she was bad at keeping secrets. 

Secrets that appeared as her Mom drinking too much and losing her job, cocaine straight scars on her hip bone, and her fingers down her throat after every meal. 

Secrets that appeared as nightmares and her waking up every night screaming, sweating, wanting to tear her skin off, feeling like a murderer. 

The rest of the party had given up a while ago. But Lucas never did. She knows that he can’t know about what she does to herself or how many Tylenol she pops a day or how her grades are or how miserable her life is, but she’s nervous around him as if he’ll crack her open with a look. 

She’s not entirely shocked when he approaches her after the pep rally, but she is surprised when he hands her a green ticket,

“It’s the championship game. You should come.”

“Why?” She scoffs, “to be surrounded by these morons even longer? No thanks,” she turns to walk away and he grabs her arm. She doesn’t flinch. She never flinches away from him, she’d never flinch away from him. 

“I want you to come. And, it could be good for you to get out of the house.”

Her eyes narrow,

“What the hell do you know about me being in my house stalker?” 

Lucas sighs, 

“Every time I ride by “

She shoves him, 

“You ride by my fucking house?!”

“Max listen, I know you’re depressed I know you’re-“

“You don’t know shit!” 

“Please. Come to the game. I want you there.” 

“I’m not your girlfriend anymore Lucas. I don’t just go where you want me to anymore,” she says, turning and walking away. 

She’s barely turned around when the tears start running down her face and she runs out to the quad. 

Max doesn’t know why she’s there. She’s not fully inside the gym so she doesn’t know if that technically counts as there. But she does see Lucas get off the bench. And she does see Lucas make the rebound shot. 

She doesn’t hear herself scream out a cheer, nor does she hear herself call out his name. His head snaps up and he looks towards her, getting down from where he’s being held up by the crowd. 

He follows her into the much quieter hallway,

“You came,” he says softly.

“You won.”

He shrugs, 

“You know I got a little something-something,” he says brushing his shoulders off with an awkward laugh. 

“Lucas, I’m not good for you anymore,” she says abruptly. 

“What do you mean?” 

“My life is too, crazy and a mess and I’m not who I was before the mind flayed and everyone seems content to just move on and I can’t. I fucking can’t.” 

Lucas rubs her arm, 

“Your life is crazier than the supernatural monsters we’ve been fighting for years? Crazier than Nancy’s love life? Crazier than Dustin and Steve’s friendship? I doubt that.”

She laughs, 

“Okay, maybe not that crazy but that doesn’t mean, Lucas I’m not the same.”

“I don’t think any of us are the same,” he says looking into her eyes curiously. 

She sighs and looks up at the ceiling, willing herself not to cry, trying to tell herself it’s not that big of a deal. But she tells herself that all the time. Just like she tells herself she can stop whenever she wants. 

“I’m not physically the same.”

“What does that mean?” 

Max slams her hand on her forehead,

“Fuck Lucas I cut myself. I cut myself okay. And not some petty little white girl cut myself, I hope I can still say that even though we’re not together, I’m talking deep, ugly, don’t wear a swimsuit in public cut yourself.” 

She’s leaned against a locker and his head drops to press his forehead against hers, 

“Fuck, Max,” 

She can barely breathe. This is the closest that she’s been to another human in six months and he still smells the same and this is Lucas. This is Lucas. This is Lucas. It takes her a moment to realize he’s crying, 

“I should have tried harder, I should have-“ 

She shakes her head against his, 

“No. I’m the one who did it. I wouldn’t let you help okay?” 

Lucas pulls back and wipes at his eyes, taking a step back, realizing he’d literally been caging her in,

“I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.”

She shakes her head quickly,

“It didn’t.”

Lucas looks down at her and her eyes are so blue and her hair is so red and he wants nothing more than to take her pain and destroy it like the fucking Demogorgon. 

“Do you want to do something?” He asks quietly. 

“With them?” She gestures to the team coming out of the gym.

He twines his fingers with hers,

“No. With me.” 

“I think I could be free for that. As long as it’s not depressing the whole time. Like a 20/80 situation.”

“How about 30/70?”

“25/75?” Max offers with a small smile. 

Lucas beams,

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen one of those.” 

“One of what?” She asks, face turning red. 

“A Shy Babe Max Mayfield Smile,” he says, walking her out of the building. 

“Has a shy babe not washed her hair in four days?”

He pokes a simple,

“I dunno. I still see a Shy Babe, that happens to be named Max Mayfield.” 

“Did you know you’re popular now and your flirting still sucks?” 

It’s silent for a few moments and the air is cold. 

“It wasn’t you,” she says, “I do love you.”

“Then why can’t we-“ 

“My own mom doesn’t even want to be around me. I can’t expect you to want to be.” 

Lucas stops and grabs her arm to pull her to a stop standing in front of her, 

“I want to be there. For everything. It doesn’t take a genius to see you’re not eating or sleeping. You told me about the, the cutting, I am here Max. Put it on me. Put it on me.”

She feels tears sting in her eyes and she looks down. This is not what she intended to happen. She did not need to get him tangled up in her web. 

“Max, look at me,” he says softly.

She blinks up at him and because she’s now a crybaby, tears fall down her cheeks, 

“You can put it on me. You can put it down. You can let it go. It’s not your fault.” 

She bursts out into sobs and falls forward into his arms and he catches her as she buries her head in his chest,

“I got you. I got you baby. Put it down. You’re not alone. I got you. I got you.” 

It takes her a few minutes to cry it out and eventually she wipes her face on the arm of her sweater which is the best she can do, and since she’s not trying to win Lucas back, she honestly couldn’t care less, when he leans in and kiss her cheek softly like he doesn’t know if he can kiss her lips,

“I love you, Maxine Mayfield. And I always fucking got you. But I have to warn you, that I sleep on the left side of the bed.”

She laughs, 

“Loser. Hey, um, I don’t think I’m ready to talk to the rest of the party yet.” 

He nods, 

“I’ll keep you all to myself.” 

“Your parents won’t mind?” 

Lucas hesitates, 

“Shit. I will figure something out. All I know is that I am not letting you go?” 

“What about going to the bathroom?” 

“Fine.” 

“To go to class?” 

“I could get my schedule changed.”

“Go to the store?” 

“Why can’t I come?” 

They go back and forth the whole way home as Max counts Lucas’s pulse she can feel as their wrists brush together while they hold hands. 

The air is cool and the one day Max doesn’t tie her hair up it’s windy. It’s dark and barely any street lamps work. Lucas is warm and his hand is solid, his body a warm presence next to hers. She tries to sneak secret glances at him. She hasn’t gotten to stare at him in months and his new haircut and his sharp jawline, he’s changed so fucking much. 

But clearly, she’s bad at sneaking it, and every time he catches her, he smiles back with the most genuine smile and it lights her heart on fire from the inside out and whatever the hell that she’d been living in, this is the opposite, Lucas is the opposite. She leans up and kisses him, hands grabbing his cheeks. 

Lucas nearly falls back before he picks her up and twirls her around and around until he’s as dizzy and dreamlike in real life as this feels because this is his girl and he has her back and he’s kissing Max fucking Mayfield in the middle of his fucking street and he doesn’t ever want to stop.

[acefaun]

Yandere Karno

Synopsis: Karno’s powers can amplify anything. It was proven that he could amplify the amount of love in the Fountain of Love, so technically he could manipulate the way MC feels about something, particularly how they feel about him and the other gods.

✨Masterlist✨

🩸Yandere Masterlist🩸

Gender-neutral goldfish! Warnings: violence, manipulation, mentions of death

A/N: For the record, I feel like Karno is an emotionally soft god and wouldn’t really want to hurt you even as a yandere. ✨ On another note... I should finish some of my other requests while I'm on break.

–Word Count: 8,210–

I liked imagining the gods and I got along. Well, that's what I thought until the Dark King showed up, and I chose Karno to guard me. After that, it was like they stopped liking me. Sure, Scorpio wasn't the friendliest person, but he was never mean enough to make me cry. After removing their marks of sin, I thought we were closer—it wasn’t like I was obligated to help them. They all liked me in their unique way.

I thought at least Ichthys liked me. He was always so nice and funny. I had a genuine crush on him if I was honest with myself. But after he took a few pranks too far, I knew he didn't feel the same.

Sniffling, I buried myself under the blankets of Karno's bed. What if they really didn't like me? What was the point of protecting me? Why not just hand me over to the Dark King? At least he'd be happy to have me around. I wished I could go home and forget all about the gods.

The door suddenly opened, and I flinched before remembering I was stuck in Karno's room. I couldn't very well lock him out of his own room. "You're crying. What happened?"

I drew circles in the blankets with my fingers, not bothering to pick my head up from the pillow. “I don't belong here. Karno, I want to go home.” I paused before asking the bigger question that haunted me: “Do the other gods hate me?"

His eyes widened with the abruptness of my question. "What makes you ask that?"

I looked down again, unable to express the way I felt. So, instead, I told him what I observed from the other gods, "It's just that... I got rid of their sins, and they were happy, and we had a party. But then the Dark King showed up, and now it's like I'm a nuisance. Last time, they inconvenienced me by always needing me to help them. Is it different when a God has to help a goldfish? Am I being the inconvenience?"

He sat beside me on the bed, rubbing my shoulder. "They're probably just stressed. Their jobs are a lot harder, after all. Protecting you is the easy part. They have to find the Dark King and his minions. I'm sure they don't mean any harm."

My eyebrows furrowed in uncertainty, but if Karno thought the other gods were just going through hard times, then I would trust him. His explanation was sound enough. I nodded my head, giving him a small smile. "Thank you, Karno." 

I trusted Karno; however, even after the chaos with the Dark King was over, it felt like even the new gods I met were becoming just as intolerant of me. Karno was the only one that seemed to like me being around anymore. He didn't lecture me or shrug me off with rude comments; he did just the opposite. He told the others to knock it off when he saw they were making me sad, and he made me smile every chance he got. The gods didn't need to guard me anymore, but Karno made it his personal mission to stay with me and ensure I was emotionally okay. At least he understood how I felt about everything.

Despite how hurt I was that Ichthys didn't like me anymore, I wasn't entirely as alone as I thought I would be. With Karno, I could still visit the mansion every day, so I didn't have to stop seeing him. Not to mention Karno always made the best cookies—I was sure I'd gained a few pounds thanks to him. 

Today was going to be a good day. I would meet Karno after he finished work, and we would go on a friendly date to the Heavens. Except as I was walking into the mansion, three gods from Punishments were walking out and I did my best not to get in their way. Though, my efforts didn’t spare me from Scorpio’s harsh words, "Tch. Stupid goldfish. You know you don't have to show up every day. You're not in danger anymore."

I glanced at him before quickly looking away with a saddened gaze. "I- I know. Karno invited me."

“(Na”e) (Last Name)," I hesitantly looked up at Zyglavis, who addressed me in his usual “ecturing tone, "Refrain from being a distraction to Karno today. If you continue this behavior, the Department of Wishes will not be in good shape. I hope you understand that if your presence causes any disorder, you will no longin be permitted to the mansion."

My heart almost shattered at the harshness of his threat. Karno wasn't there to save me this time. I steeled myself to prevent myself from crying, but my voice was no less shaky. "I understand..."

"Huh? Are you crying?" Scorpio sounded incredulous. "I don't believe this. Goldfish are so much weaker than I thought." He paused, a sigh escaping his lips. "Hey, stop crying already!"

I flinched back as his hand came to rest on my shoulder. I didn't want him touching me. He had the power to read people's minds, which was certainly not what I wanted him to do. I didn't want him to see my pain, frustration, and anger. But I didn't want to see any of them. I stormed past them, making my way down the halls. If I went crying to Karno, that would just give them an excuse to kick me out of the mansion. So, instead, I paused in the middle of the hall, tears of anguish running down my cheeks. Who else was there to go to when Karno was the only one who was nice to me? Karno was the only one who cared, and they threatened me to stay away from him. 

“(Name)? What are you doing crying in the middle of the hall? Those big bad gods would take advantage of that, you know. You shouldn't be here.”

I sniffled harshly, glancing up at who was addressing me so rudely. But I broke down even more after seeing that it was Ichthys telling me I shouldn't be in the mansion. I wiped my eyes furiously and sobbed accusingly, "How could you all be so mean? All I did was erase your sins! I didn't do anything to anyone else!" 

"Don't be stupid! We're not- Well, Scorpio and Zyglavis can be mean in their own way, but we're not mean..." He had a sad pout on his face, but realization seized him, and he panicked for a moment. "Wait... do you think... my pranks are mean?" His eyes were wide as he stared at me in apprehension. What difference did it make? It's not like he would stop his pranks. 

"But you are mean..." I mumbled, looking up at him with more tears filling my eyes. "Your pranks are mean, and everyone laughs at how stupid I look."

"Huh? No, they don't." His denial was so weak that I labeled it a lie. I didn't need him to verify what I told him; I just needed him to know how cruel they were all being.

"You never stay around long enough for anyone to get mad at you!" I accused, my lip quivering in frustration.

"You're mad at me?"

“(Name)?" I turned to the voice. Karno was watching us in surprise. 

I squeaked, "Karno?" In his voice, I noted his slight anger at... something. Was it me? Oh, I angered the only person who cared about me. He would push me away, and I'd be left alone again. The gods who promised to take care of me would abandon me without a second thought.

But I felt arms wrap around me, and I only recognized it was Karno as soon as he had my face pressed gently against his chest, and he held me securely. "Think twice about what you say. They're upset." He hissed at Ichthys.

I looked up at him. He was openly glaring at Ichthys, who quietly apologized and fled, scared off by Karno's intimidating, uncharacteristic attitude. Was he okay? "Karno..."

I was going to speak to him, but he hushed me, looking down and meeting my gaze. "Don't worry. I've got you." His smile was enough to make me melt. He was so kind; every God should be as kind as Karno. He was how a real god would act. "Come on, let's go to my room. I can make you some tea and cookies."

He went to take my hand, but I instinctively pulled away, hiding my guilty expression as he looked at me with a troubled expression. But something was still bothering me with Karno. After that display in the hall, he'd probably want to spend the rest of the day with me, but Zyglavis specifically told me not to interfere with the Department of Wishes or I'd be banned. I tapped my fingers together timidly, my voice tightening up again from the emotion I was trying to hold back, "I- I can't... Zyglavis said that I- that I keep distracting you from your work. And-" *SNIFFLE* "If I keep doing it, I won't be allowed back at the mansion!" 

“Hey,” his voice was severe and gruff again, almost as if the simple thought threatened him. His hands were heavy upon my shoulders. "Don't you dare let that worry you. No matter what happens, I will not let them keep you from me. Okay? You'll always be with me." 

At his firm yet gentle reassurance, I turned back to him and threw my arms around him like he was some sort of lifeline. It initially surprised him, but I could tell he was relieved to receive the reaction. "K- Karno... Please, don't hate me, don't leave me."

“Never,” he whispered into my ear, his breath tickling my neck. Anyone watching could have seen the wicked glint in Karno's eyes, but all I could feel from him was how much he cared about me. He could never hate me.

***

I never got another comment from Zyglavis since then. Karno was convincing enough to get them off my back about not seeing him. The other gods seemed silently resigned to my constant presence, leaving me to wonder what Karno must have said. Regardless, I was sitting quietly on the sofa, reading a book. With all that happened, I was confident they would leave me in peace while waiting for Karno to return from the Heavens.

"Hello, (Name). I haven't seen you outside Karno's room in a while." I looked up, slightly startled that another God was talking to me. Not only that... but it was Huedhaut, and he had said nothing rude yet, which was a slight relief to how they usually treated me. He noted my wary eyes trailing him and tried to change the room’s mood. "How's your book?"

Asking another question was his way of trying to start a conversation with me. I stared blankly at him for a hot second before looking down and responding quietly, "It's nice. Thanks." I couldn't get my hopes up. The minute I let my guard down, they would be there to shove me back into a corner.

He gave me an encouraging smile at finally getting me to talk. "Here, let me get you a drink. You can tell me about it."

I couldn't help it as he continued to treat me well; I smiled with him. It was the first time in weeks I'd had a pleasant talk with someone other than Karno. It made me feel better because Huedhaut was one of my first god friends, along with the other five who had marks of sin. I was still skeptical about his sudden change in attitude toward me, but on the inside, I was begging for this to be real. He was the most clever god in the Heavens. What if he was planning something?

I spoke, albeit timidly at first, watching him fix us drinks, "The main antagonist is a little... sketchy. He's completely obsessed with his crush–a little creepy, but it's interesting." I sipped from the prepared drink and felt my tense nerves settle down. I knew he wasn't serving me alcohol, but it made me open up to see how kind he was. "It's been a great book so far. It doesn't say much about it... but I have a hunch that he's been stalking her and her friends too. He knows too much for it to be normal. He's pretty scary because he's pretty much controlling her life, and she has no clue."

"Hm..." He sat across from me, thinking on it with the corners of his lips creeping up. "I didn't take you for a reader of cheap thrills. Would you mind if I borrowed it when you’re finished?"

I nodded eagerly, enjoying our conversation a bit more. I sipped from my glass before joking quietly, "I didn't take you for a God to enjoy cheap thrills, Mr. Smart-Guy."

"It's making you smile. I thought it might be worth a read." His grin was contagious, and I found myself laughing with him. 

"Hue..." I started slowly, putting my book down beside my drink as I curled onto the comfortable sofa, "The truth is, you're the one making me pretty happy right now, not the book. I miss talking to you guys."

He pursed his lips together in worry. "Karno told us you were upset because of us. I thought I might see what's wrong."

"He did?" I played with the sleeves of my jacket. "I mean, I was. But that was because everyone was so mean to me. But then you came in here today, and you're being very nice to me, and I'm thrilled that you're being so nice." He looked away for a minute, and I had a feeling. I once joked about it being some weird sixth Goddess-Sense, like a spider tingle or something, but I knew Huedhaut had something important to tell me. There was something important I was missing. "What's been going on? Why has everyone been hurting me?"

His deep blue eyes glinted back at me. "We weren't. Don't jump to conclusions—we still haven't spoken to Karno about this—but we feel Karno has been manipulating you with his powers."

"What?" My eyes widened. Karno, the man who had been taking care of me all this time and was trying so hard to make me happy, was behind this? Was he simultaneously the reason for both my pain and my joy? How? Why would he go that far? "What proof do you have?"

He gestured to my drink, and I felt a strange sense of unease wash over me. What did he do to it? "I made it so Karno's influence would leave upon drinking it. It seems it worked just fine. You were less tense around me after drinking it."

"But..." I let out an exasperated huff. I still wasn't understanding the root of the problem. "That doesn't make any sense! Why would I have been under his influence at all?”

"You said we've been acting harshly to you. It's been upsetting you. We believe it's Karno's power. He's been making himself seem nicer to you while making the rest of us seem like demons." With my slight pause, he spoke, "We haven't spoken to him yet, so we still don't have answers as to why. I promise we're going to help you with this."

I shut my eyes and took a deep breath to steady myself. His words rang true to me. His tea was evidence that Karno’s power plagued me. It was like Huedhaut suddenly turned into the sweetest God after drinking from that cup. We still needed answers, but for the moment, everything was okay. I nodded my head slowly. "Alright. Thank you." I looked back at my friend with a small smile. "Part of me is relieved to know that you guys don't hate me."

"Part of you?"

I nodded. "It was pretty scary. I mean, some of them are already pretty harsh, but... it was worse. But, it's better. I'm really happy now. So I know that even if they seem angry, they're not doing it to be mean."

"Oh, (Name)'s here!" 

I turned my head, Teorus and Ichthys were standing in the doorway, and Teorus was the first to bundle over to me and wrap his arms around me. "Goldie!"

My face warmed. "Guys!" The thought occurred to me... it was all fake. So, Ichthys wasn't ever out to get me. So what did that mean for how I felt about him now? "Hue helped me out. I feel a lot better now." I had to get my life back on track.

The news seemed to relieve both of them, and they immediately smothered me in hugs. 

"Oh-ho. So it worked." Leon didn't look pleased as he took a moment to borrow Huedhaut from the room, and they left me with my two best friends. I was partially concerned by Leon's reaction, but Teorus and Ichthys were quick to distract me from that. 

My arms tightened around them. "I missed you guys sooooo much! I really thought you hated me!" Teorus and Ichthys were two of the easiest gods to talk to with how friendly they were. It threw me off when they were suddenly so cruel.

"Poor Goldie," Teorus nuzzled my head affectionately, and I melted in their arms as they squished me between them. I loved having them back. But now, not only did I have both of them around... But I had to deal with my feelings for Ichthys. 

Ichthys argued, "We could never hate you!" 

"Yeah, Ichthys loves you too much!" My eyes widened at Teorus's words, but I couldn't tell if he was being serious or if he was just joking.

On the other hand, Ichthys’ expression told me that Teorus wasn't joking. "Hey-"

They both stranded me on the sofa, getting deep into their argument. Teorus continued excitedly despite Ichthys' attempts at stopping him. "He never stopped talking about you and moping about how you didn't like him-"

"Teo!" Ichthys tried and failed at shutting the blond’s mouth.

"And the other day, he was crying because-"

"Hold on," I stopped them right there, immediately grasping their attention. Teorus was watching me with an excited, expectant face. I thought Ichthys had a red face, but the sudden news heated my cheeks. Did I embarrass him?! That's not what I was trying to do! "I'm sorry, I just…" Ichthys looked dejected at my apology, expecting me to reject him then and there. Of course, it was my fault he felt that way. If I hadn't treated him so harshly lately, he wouldn't have a reason to feel that way. But... on the other hand, it also wasn’t my fault, but I couldn't feel anything but guilty for it. So, instead of letting the awkward silence continue, I looked at Ichthys with my best and brightest smile. "Please, don't be sad. It makes me sad to see you unhappy."

"It makes you sad?" He tilted his head, his eyes glimmering in hope. Did I like him as much as he liked me?

I nodded slowly, wrapping my arms around his neck with a tight hug. "I love seeing you happy." He made me happy. His smile made me happy, and he smiled wider with every word. Maybe we felt the same…

"Huh? You do?" I looked up at him, partially pleased with how surprised he looked. He certainly didn’t look sad anymore. In fact, he looked happier by the minute.

However, he wasn’t saying anything, making me feel embarrassed as I shyly looked away. Hesitantly, I asked for the truth, “You… really love me?” 

Ichthys looked away, just as shy as I felt. Ichthys was the youngest god, and we truly felt like two love-struck children at that moment. He nodded, quietly answering, "I do. I love you, (Name)."

My cheeks flushed again. But I was happy. I couldn't stop smiling. "I love you too. I love you, Ichthys."

For a minute, he didn't quite know what to do other than hug me tightly like it was our last moments together. I never wanted to endure something as painful as having Ichthys hate me again. Almost the same height, he pressed my face into his shoulder as he nuzzled my neck. All we wanted to do was bask in each other's arms, sure that this was really happening.

Teorus pouted at the sappy frozen scene and yelled at us, "What are you doing?! You just admitted your feelings to each other, and you're not going to kiss?!"

Huedhaut shushed Teorus with a smack to the head upon re-entering the room, making Teorus flinch at his sudden presence. "They're just getting comfortable around us. Do you think they want to do something like that in front of-" He fell silent, and his eyes widened as he heard a squeak from me and found Ichthys pressing his lips against mine. He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Such childish gods..." But he couldn't help but smile. The gods were happy, and most importantly, I was happy. That was all Huedhaut hoped to achieve, and it seemed they'd accomplished that. At the very least, Ichthys accomplished that. But there was something else that needed his and Leon's attention. "Teorus," His tone was severe, yet quiet enough only to get the attention of the blond wishes god. 

Teorus gazed at him with worried eyes. "Is everything okay?"

Huedhaut glanced back at me and Ichthys, who were too happy to let go of each other. "Leo's worried about Karno. He’ll be coming down to Earth to see (Name), so I want you to keep an eye on them in case we can't intercept him."

Teorus nodded his head dutifully. "Ichthys and I will watch over (Name)! Just... take care of Karno. If Leo's worried about him, then this must be bad."

***

After Huedhaut's drink, I didn't encounter any other problems with the other gods. His explanation cleared up much for me. Gods were kind beings–that included the punishments gods. Still, there was nothing clear about what was going on. What was up with Karno and his powers? Why would he purposefully want to make the other gods seem like demons to me? The only thing for certain was that there was nothing that could hurt Ichthys or me. Karno's powers were made to intensify any existing thing. We had no doubts about our feelings, so that was a small reassurance in my mind.

But he wouldn't do it on purpose, right? It had to be some kind of mistake. Karno was my best friend, and he never did anything to hurt me before. Maybe being on Earth was just messing with his powers—that had to be it.

I tried to stuff my nose back in my book and focus on the words written on the pages. Dwelling on Karno's state wouldn't make me feel any better. Besides, my book was just getting to the part where the main character either escaped her possessive captor or stayed stuck with him forever. I knew he was the antagonist, but I would never have thought him to be so selfish and cruel with how sweet he was at the beginning of the book.

"What are you implying? I'd never try to hurt them." A stern yet familiar voice roused me from my book again, and I listened intently to what he was saying.

"No? You're making everyone else hurt them. Why?"

My head poked up from where I was lying on Ichthys' arm on the sofa. Ichthys also turned to look with a confused expression. "It sounds like Karno and Leon." Teorus had told him what they were dealing with for Karno, so he was obviously on alert now that Karno was headed in their general direction. Of course, Karno couldn't do anything now that Ichthys and I were a couple. But it still put him on edge.

I glanced at Ichthys with furrowed eyebrows, wondering if he had any answers. "They don't sound happy." Was Karno angry? What had Leon been telling him? 

"I care about them."

"You're obsessed with a goldfish."

"They love me."

"You're manipulating them. Karno, pull yourself together."

I bit my lip, looking at Ichthys for some kind of support. "They're talking about me, aren't they?" Leon was trying to get Karno back to the Vice Minister he used to be; I picked up on that much. But what else was going on? I felt like I was missing something from this situation.

"Probably..." Ichthys said quietly, though his encouraging touch didn't leave me as he rubbed my shoulder. "It'll be okay." 

“(Name).” At the call of my name, I flinched. Karno entered the room with Leon at his heels, watching Karno's actions as he tried to summon me to his side. “Come on.”

He was expecting me to follow him as he passed, and I knew that. But hesitantly, I called out, "Actually, I'm staying here. I'm having fun. I'm hanging out with Ichthys." Did he know Huedhaut stopped his influence on me? If he did, was he angry?

Karno paused, and there was a tense moment before he turned around. "You want to stay with someone who hurts you?" He didn't seem angry, but I displeased him, telling him I was staying with the other gods. I broke eye contact, and my gaze fell onto the book I was reading. My eyes widened at the sudden thought that went through my head. Was it possible... that Karno was like that boy in the book? I shook my head—what an absurd idea. Karno was a god.

"Karno," Leon said warningly. 

However, the warning didn't look like it was going to be taken, and I knew I had to stand up for myself. With Leon's reassuring, safe presence, I defended myself as bravely as I could muster in front of the god of Cancer. "Ichthys doesn't hurt me! Ichthys loves me." My jaw clenched as I stood my ground. "As far as I'm aware, you're the one who's been hurting me." More silence followed, and I added in desperation, "Karno, please, tell me it's all some sort of misunderstanding." This was my last hope. I wished he would claim innocence for hurting me. Surely he didn't mean to do any harm. Karno was a kind god.

He sighed. My heart sank at his tired expression. That was it. We found out his plan, and he denied nothing. But he wasn't upset. He might have purposefully hurt me, but he still smiled at me as if he did nothing wrong. "No. I wanted to protect you from harm. If I could be the only one to make you happy, I would be okay with that."

I felt my heart shatter at his casual admittance. It was no accident. He did it all on purpose to have me all to himself. "Damn it, Karno! How was doing this to me supposed to make me happy? I love Ichthys, and you made me think he was out to hurt me!" My hands balled into fists. Anger overshadowed any fear I might have felt. The gods beside me watched silently, knowing it wasn't their turn to step in.

"(Name)-"

"No," I interrupted him, sending him a frigid glare as I resisted the urge to march up to him and lash out in anger, "Don't talk to me. You should leave."

"We need to talk." The ice in his tone made me take a shaken step back. He never had an attitude like that with me before. Why did he suddenly sound like... a bad guy? 

What happened to my Karno—the nice one? The one that was always there for me, understanding how I felt. Well, now I knew he understood my pain only because he caused that pain. My voice cracked from how quiet I became as I brokenly countered, "There's nothing to talk about. You tried to ruin my life."

His glare instantly silenced me. "I was trying to fix your life so you would never have to feel pain again. But I guess I went about that the wrong way too. Yet again, I find you slipping away from me."

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "What?" What was he saying? That he interfered in my life before? How come none of the other gods knew about this?

He tilted his head forward, his eyes gleaming viciously. "You still don’t know. Then... I'll show you." I flinched, ready to run to the safety of the nearest god as Karno moved to step towards me.

"Karno, enough. It's time to go." I glanced at Leon, who had been observing the scene for a while. Did he know what Karno was talking about that he'd choose to interrupt like that? I wasn't sure I wanted to ask questions at all. I was just grateful he stopped Karno from getting any closer.

But Ichthys also pulled me out of the conversation with an arm wrapped around my shoulders. "C'mon. We can go to my room." Karno was glaring into my soul, and I quickly averted my gaze. 

I glanced at Ichthys and nodded my head slowly, following him out of the room and away from Karno, who was still trying to get to me. "Hey, Ichthys?" He hummed as I addressed him, giving me all his attention, "Do you think I could stay with you tonight? This is a little overwhelming for me." Truthfully, I was afraid of Karno. If Leon hadn't stopped him I wasn't sure what he would have done. 

Karno used to be one of the best gods... But he hurt me more than any of the other gods ever could. He surely hadn't intended on me ever finding out his big secret, but now Huedhaut ruined his plan, and I'd be lucky if he never tried it again. But Leon was going to help him. That's what the Minister of Wishes was for. 

Ichthys grinned brightly, bringing me back to the present with his excitement. "Of course, you can! This is exciting!" I was glad he was excited about having me stay the night. I mean, we hadn't hung out in forever, so to have so much time to spend with me was energizing for the both of us. I loved my fish zodiac. 

I felt a calm nostalgia wash over me as I walked into his room with him. I'd never get over how his walls displayed an entire ocean. Gods never ceased to amaze me. "I haven't been here since I got rid of your sin."

"Yeah... Back then, it was rough. I almost actually died for saving your life, remember? When the time came, I was terrified, but I thought I was ready. I didn't want to die." I almost felt his desperation in how tightly he wrapped his arms around me. "All I could think about was how much I wanted to stay with you. I didn't think you'd ever love me back... But I didn't care. I only cared about staying alive and keeping you in my life."

I smiled, my glistening eyes looking up to him. "I'm glad you didn't die. I would have been so sad."

"Well, you don't have to be sad anymore," Ichthys reassured, pulling me past his toys and to his bed, where my eyes widened. Ichthys paused at seeing my expression and asked, "Are you okay?"

I nodded my head quickly, rubbing my hands over the mattress. "Ichthys, is this a water bed? That's so cool! You didn't have this the last time I was here."

His grin returned as he explained where he got it, "I found out about it on Earth. See, cool stuff like that doesn't exist in the Heavens. But I'm really glad you like it! I hope it'll be comfortable enough for you tonight."

I rubbed my warm cheeks, trying to cover my face as I replied, "Anywhere would be comfortable as long as you're there." Ichthys was so cute with a blush on his face. I loved seeing him so happy. 

He pulled me into his arms, keeping me on top of him as he nuzzled his nose into my hair. "I'll always be here to protect you. I love you."

I had to admit, laying on his chest was pretty comfortable too. It didn't escape my thoughts that if Huedhaut hadn't stepped in, I might be with Karno, struggling to accept the hatred of the other gods. But everything was okay. I took in a deep breath, snuggling closer to Ichthys. I had never been so happy in my life. "I love you too, Ikky." 

***

"WAH!"

“Ah!” I shot up in fear, looking around frantically. What happened? Who screamed? Why wasn't I in my room? But my eyes landed on the figure next to me, who seemed as panicked as I was. Still, why were we in a bed together?! "HEY! Who are you?!"

"I should ask you that question! This is my room!"

"Well, how did I get in your room?!"

"That's what I'm asking you!"

I inhaled deeply and let out a slow breath of air. So, I woke up in a stranger's bed, and neither of us knew what had happened. I didn't feel sick, so it wasn't a drunken night out... "Okay, alright, let's calm down and figure this out. The last thing I remember was being at the mansion with the other gods. I was hanging out with Huedhaut."

"What?" He sounded surprised. "Hold on, but you're a goldfish."

"Huh?" I looked up in equal surprise. "Oh, so you're a God too? That's weird."

"Yeah, I'm Ichthys, God of Pisces." He studied me closely but kept space between us. "Who are you?"

"(Name) (Last Name). I'm the reborn Goddess of Fate that got rid of the other god's marks of sin." I looked away awkwardly from him, thanking the gods we were at least clothed. At least I knew nothing happened between me and a total stranger–a God, no less.

But Ichthys simply smiled at me. "Of course, you're a reborn goddess. You're too cute to be a normal human. That... And you have the most beautiful stars in your eyes. Normal humans don't have stars." I felt my cheeks heat up at his words. "Anyway, the only way I could imagine you ended up here is because of one of the others. I bet they did this to prank me."

I pouted, crossing my arms. "Well, gee, it wasn't a very funny prank."

"Don't worry!" He ruffled my hair. "I'll get them back! And you can watch! Until then, you'd like to get back to Huedhaut, wouldn't you?"

After pausing, I nodded my head. I had a funny feeling in the back of my mind, but it was lost to me. I climbed out of bed first, getting my shoes on my feet. Ichthys was oddly nice enough to fix my bedhead before walking with me to the living room.

He immediately started whining upon catching sight of the others. "I know I prank you guys a lot, but you didn't have to put a goldfish in my bed last night."

Karno, catching sight of my disheveled clothes, was the first to ask, "You slept with (Name)? It's against the law to-"

"We didn't do anything!" I shouted frantically, trying to get rid of any misconceptions despite my warm face. "I swear nothing happened! Really! Geez... I'm not about to do anything with a stranger." But my defense suddenly turned into an attack as I glared at them. "Anyway, you guys are the mean ones. I don't know who did it, but you don't have to use me to get back at Ichthys." 

"What happened?"

Zyglavis was just walking into the room, new to the conversation. Huedhaut answered him, "They slept together."

"Well, the King said it was okay!" We all paused at Ichthys' exclamation. 

Zyglavis seemed especially curious as he pressed, "The King said what was okay?"

Ichthys didn't answer. In fact, he didn't look like he knew what the answer was. But something about what Ichthys said was nagging at the back of my mind. It was giving me a similar feeling to when Ichthys was introducing himself. I awkwardly supported. "He- He said something was okay. Come on, can't any of you remember?" There was silence. "I'm a human, but shouldn't you gods have perfect memories?"

Immediately, Zyglavis looked at Karno, silently observing the scene with a hard gaze. "Karno."

I briefly wondered what was up with Karno, but my eyes widened when he stood quickly and snapped his fingers. But he did not throw me back like the other gods. Arms wrapped around me, I heard a snap, and I was gone from the room. I panicked, only to have those same arms hold my hands against me. "Let me go!" I panicked. Something about the situation seemed scarily familiar.

"Shh! Calm down!" 

I paused, turning around slightly. "Ichthys?" My heart skipped at how close we were. What was that sudden powerful urge to kiss him? Was it because he saved me, and I was just feeling grateful? "What's going on?"

Ichthys sighed, but his eyes never left mine, gazing at me intently. "So you feel it too. Listen, there's a gap in my memory, and I think everyone else is having that same problem. You felt it when Karno snapped his fingers just now, right?"

I nodded my head. "The... love?"

His cheeks reddened slightly. We were feeling the same thing. "Yeah. That. It got stronger."

I added to his theory, "And that's Karno's power: to make something existing stronger. But what happened to our memory? Did he erase it? Why would Karno…"

"I don't understand why he would do something like that, but it's not impossible. There are gods in the Heavens with that kind of ability." Ichthys had a worried expression. Obviously, we were in some sort of danger, but we couldn't find the answers without our memories. Why was Karno doing this to us? 

"You don't even know each other, and you're already ruining my plans." I flinched into Ichthys at the sudden voice joining us in the hall. "Who knew a little goldfish and a troublesome child would be so quick at figuring it out?"

"Karno, what are you doing?!" If he was really the one to erase our memories, then it was safe for me to feel at least somewhat disturbed at his presence, even if Ichthys was holding me back to shield me. I never felt afraid of the gods like this. Zyglavis and Scorpio intimidated me, but that was different. Why did Karno inspire this unfamiliar feeling in me?

Karno, however, didn't seem concerned at all over facing us. "I'll tell you my side of the story, and then I'll finish with this delay that's been bothering me for some time," he calmly spoke as he leaned against a wall. "To begin, I'll admit that I've been watching you since you were a small child, (Name). Always so selfless and carefree, making wishes for everyone except yourself. But one day, you made a wish for yourself that I couldn't grant. You wanted a friend from the stars. I admit, I ruined your life the day I granted that wish. You made a friend who worked at the planetarium you now go to. She died of illness, and you declared your hatred to the stars for taking your friend."

"I- I don't believe you. I would remember that! I never hated-"

He stopped me immediately as I argued with him, pushing himself off the wall. "No, you did. I erased your memory so you wouldn't have to feel the pain I put you through. But you never wished to me again, and when you chose me to be your guardian on that fateful day, I was elated to have you. I would never let anyone else have you; I promised that to myself. Yet you still went and was with the problem child in Punishments after everything we'd been through together. I knew I had to do something, but you had to ruin that too." His face displayed rage, and I shrunk behind Ichthys under his icy glare. "What do you get out of hurting me like this, (Name)?"

"I- I didn't mean to. I didn't know you felt like this. But-" I took a steady breath, trying to think of a quick way to calm him down. "Karno, listen, you knew how I felt about Ichthys. Couldn't we have just talked it through?"

"No. No, (Name). I wouldn’t settle for this." His kind smile was back on his face, but it unsettled me rather than made me feel comforted. "Even if I have you with me in pain, at least you'll be with me. So, I'll get rid of any competition."

"No, Karno!" I stood in front of Ichthys as Karno snapped his fingers. But even if he hit me instead of Ichthys, he seemed to know what he was doing. I ended up thrown against a wall and collapsed on the floor. It didn't hurt, but it was enough to make the world spin, preventing me from getting to my feet. "Stop!"

Karno snapped his fingers again; however, he was directing it at me this time. I shivered as an intense fear ran deep through me. I had never felt so afraid before. He smiled. "How do you feel, (Name)? It's okay. You don't have to be afraid to answer."

I bit back a whimper as he questioned me, stepping closer. He did this to me. He knew I was afraid of him, and he just intensified that feeling. It was an intense, paralyzing feeling. My fear prompted me to answer, "I'm- I'm scared. Really cold... and afraid." Where was Ichthys to make me feel better? Looking up, he was unconscious across from me. Was he dead? My heart spiraled into terror, and I was already crying before I could get a grip on myself.

I shivered again as Karno knelt before me, wiping away my tears. "I don't care if you're afraid. It’s best that you are. I'll hurt you, (Name). Then, you'll understand not to hurt me again."

Damn, I was shaking like a newborn calf as he affectionately patted my head. I shut my eyes, waiting for the pain to come, but it never did. Karno was gone when I peeked up. I didn't know whether to feel relieved or anxious at the fact. But my heart dropped when I found him hovering over Ichthys. "Ichthys..."

Karno turned his apathetic gaze back to me. "I think you forgot that this God of yours is a mortal. Eliminating him is easier than the other gods. So, doing this will teach you-"

"The other gods will be furious! They'll kill you, Karno! You'll fall from the Heavens for doing this!"

Karno's jaw ticked. "They won't remember a thing."

I had no other words to defend us. My feeble prayers and wishes went unanswered by him. Nothing would affect Karno, and I found myself lost in tears again. I didn't register the time passed when he picked me up off the floor and carried me to his room in the Heavens. Ever heard the phrase 'paralyzed with fear'? That's exactly what I was experiencing. Forget struggling or putting up a fight; I didn't have the energy to lift my head or do much of anything.

Ichthys was gone by now; I knew that much. As usual, the other gods were back to business, but none of them paid attention to the human they didn't know in Karno's room.

But one thing that never changed was my fear of Karno. He kept that feeling strong. After all, who was to stop me from running out on him if my fear didn’t hold me back? 

How could a sweet God like Karno turn into such a monster? He would never explain himself. Deep down, I felt guilty because who else was to blame but me?

“Karno…” I wailed, continuously calling his name. I was lying on his bed; my knees pulled to my chest. I wasn't even sure if he was in the room; I was so used to the silence. “Karno,” I called, “I'm sorry!” I was so sorry. I wish he could forgive me. I'd never been more sorry in my life. 

“What are you apologizing for? Have you tried to do something wrong? Did you fail to escape? Well, at least you're being more honest with me.”

I flinched when his hand rested on my forehead. My eyes cracked open enough to see him hovering over me with those emotionless eyes that filled me with more dread than if he would have been openly displeased with me. “It's my fault; it’s all my fault.” I was responsible for it. Why did I have to exist?

“What's that?” Karno passed his fingers through my hair; his weight on the bed drew me to him as he pulled me close. 

He dispassionately watched as I buried my face into his chest, almost trying to hide from him. “You would've been happier if I never existed. You- You were so nice, but now you hate me! You hate me, and it's all my fault.”

“That couldn't be farther from the truth.” Finally, his expression softened as his hands gently trailed up and down my back. “I’m very happy to have you here with me. How could I feel anything but pleased at having the love of my life alongside me every day?”

“That’s not true,” I argued, balling his shirt in my hands as I tried to make him see what he was doing. He might have thought he still loved me, but Karno had never acted like this before. “You’re lying. You never smile anymore. You’re not happy at all. You only-” My voice cracked, a quiet sob breaking through as I feared his reaction. I was always scared of him; He never lessened the influence he had over my feelings. Still, he patiently waited for me to continue speaking—something he rarely did. “You’re always angry and mean, and it’s my fault. You were so nice to the other gods before I showed up. And now you hate me. None of this would have happened if I didn’t exist.” Ichthys might still be alive if I didn’t exist.

A puff of air left his lips. He was irritated, but only because he wasn’t doing something right. He was a nice god–too nice–which is why he tried to control his emotions around me, least he lose his composure and do something he couldn’t take back. “Then let me be honest with you. I will not change the way things are right now. You feel this way because you’re scared. If I hated you, I wouldn’t be going through the trouble of correcting you.”

“I’m sorry-”

“Hush,” he stopped my weak apology. He didn’t want to hear it again. He was too softhearted to be the reason for my pain; he couldn’t keep this up forever if I kept crying to him. It made him wonder if I knew the effect I had on him. “Be afraid for a while longer—until you realize I’m the only one who can make you feel safe and loved. I want you to fear leaving me. I want you to love me.” 

He wanted nothing else, just me. The only thing he would ever ask for was my love. But the only thing I could ever give him was my fear and hatred. Even if the time came when he stopped manipulating my feelings, I was sure I could only hate him. If I were to pretend otherwise, he could tell. I knew how Karno was—the real Karno. He wouldn’t hesitate to make me love him more than possible. 

Quietly, I whimpered, “I can’t love someone I’m afraid of.”

His lips pressed gently against my head as if to say he wouldn’t fault me for something out of my control. “That’s fine. As long as you’re here… That’s all I ask for.” That’s all he wanted for the present moment, but I knew better. I knew he would want more—typical god. He wasn’t satisfied with our friendship in the beginning; He meddled in my life until it came down to the two of us—just as he wanted. He was a god; he could give and take to his heart’s content. But how much would he take until he was content?

[bloodgulchblog]

The Rubicon Protocol

Okay I forgot I was gonna talk about The Rubicon Protocol. I am sitting on at least three drafts of partially completed Talking About Books posts but that will not stop me.

If you would like a non-plot summary of what I thought about The Rubicon Protocol and my attempt to help you decide whether you want to read it:

I once again like what Kelly Gay is doing in Halo a lot more than Troy Denning because I am a very character-focused reader. I also think her action sequences are better because she doesn't bog down the way he does, but recognize this may be a subjective distinction. Kelly Gay is restrained a bit by the fact she has to keep to the events of the audio logs, but I really didn't notice it much and, if you want to compare it to other times we've covered game events in Halo novels (The Flood, Forbeck's summaries of ODST and 5 in the Alpha Nine books) this is much better.

It does not cover every Spartan-IV we heard in the audio logs, and if you are looking for more facetime with Fireteam Taurus you won't get it here (except we get some of Griffin, poor Griffin). The major characters are three of the Spartan-IVs we heard in the audio logs (Stone, Kovan, and Horvath), the medic Lucas Browning, Lt. TJ Murphy (you know, from Spartan Ops), and a collection of support staff from the Infinity. It covers the period from the attack on the Infinity until a few days before the Chief wakes up again. There are some parts that are pretty fuckin' grim, the section with the Banished sorting through and mass executing prisoners made me flinch the hardest, but it's kind of a book you go into knowing that the situation is really awful. It will punch you and it will hurt, there are deaths in here that hurt, but you're probably prepared and the protagonists actually manage to do something really important by the time it's over.

Overall, you guys know me by now. I wouldn't say this is my most favorite Halo novel, but I like to hurt when it feels like it meant something. I also really like those small moments where characters connect in crisis and try to care for one another even when everything is terrible. I like this one.

Alright, spoiler helmets on, let's get into it.

There are two major plot threads in The Rubicon Protocol. I'll probably get the exact timeline mixed up a little (and maybe miss some details) because I'm not rereading the whole thing for this, but it should be enough. The first plot thread belongs to the boat crew (technically the Spartans aren't entirely with the boat crew, but I am counting them). The boat crew is a group of people all bonded by shared experience in the incredibly chaotic landing of their lifeboats:

Spartan Bonita Stone - A member of Fireteam Shadow, and memorable as the first dead Spartan you find in the Infinite campaign, so there are no spoilers here about how much this is gonna hurt. We are introduced to Stone when she's busy holding up a collapsing support beam on Infinity so that evacuees can reach the lifeboats.

Spartan Nina Kovan - Another member of Fireteam Shadow. (The status of the rest of Shadow is unknown, by the way.) Kovan is the one you hear punching her drop pod through a Phantom in the audio logs, which we actually get a novelization of in here. Kovan and Stone go back ten years. She's a sniper (canonically inspired by Linda, among others) and the other Spartans nicknamed her "The Stoic."

TJ Murphy - Murphy is a character from Spartan Ops and Escalation (...which I still haven't read). As the most experienced non-Spartan on hand, he takes on a leadership role for the others. He does a lot to support the other members of the boat crew and to try to keep them from falling away into the despair. He also has pre-existing rapport with the Spartan-IVs. Murphy and Browning share the job of non-Spartan Viewpoint Character in this book. I like him here, but I also don't know how he was established previously and if this will possibly affect that experience for you.

Lucas Browning - One of my refrains reading this was just going oh, Lucas. We heard those audiologs. We go into this knowing he's doomed, and the book made me care about him and it hurts a lot. Lucas is 25, a medic, the youngest member of the boat crew, and cares so much. He cares SO much. We are first introduced to him when he's the last person Stone manages to get through onto the lifeboats, and he endears himself early with how badly he feels about Pvt Kinney (who is dying of internal injuries after the lifeboat crash, and he can't save her.)

Erik Bender - One of two people Kovan finds from another shuttle: Bender was working as a barber on the Infinity. Kovan makes a wisecrack about how he must be good with a blade and lends him her knife.

Gavin Jo - A mortuary specialist that Kovan found along with Bender, nobody else on their boat made it. (Can I just say once again how much I love that there are people with ordinary support staff jobs in this book?)

Robin Dimik - A safety specialist (or "glorified firefighter" as she puts it) from Murphy's lifeboat, who starts the book with a concussion from the rough landing.

Isaiah Cameron - An ensign. Cam's the one who manages to jury rig an antenna so the lifeboat can call for help, and who ends up with a piece of shrapnel through his knee that Browning pulls out for him.

After evacuating the Infinity Murphy, Browning, Jo, Dimik, and Cameron are trapped inside their lifeboat when it lands in such a way they can't get it open. They manage to make contact with Spartan Tomas Horvath (of Fireteam Intrepid) and he promises to come get them out, but never comes (it's not his fault!). The one who does is Spartan Stone.

Speaking of Horvath...

The second plot thread belongs to Spartan Tomas Horvath, a member of Fireteam Intrepid. "A big, burly, good-natured troublemaker—the kind you wanted at your back." Horvath is the one I remembered as for-sure having survived in the audio logs even before we started here. One of the first things we see him do is bond in a really kind way with Browning over comms by asking him where he's from, figuring out they share a homeworld, and just talking to him to try to keep him calm.

Horvath is on his way to assist the stuck lifeboat when the Halo cracks up. Horvath is unable to reach the lifeboat, separated from his fireteam, and (while trying to evade the Banished) winds up buried under a landslide of earth, and (to add insult to injury) marooned on a floating chunk of Halo that is now leaking its atmosphere.

Stone, the marines Stone has found, Murphy and the boat crew, and Kovan have a harrowing time traveling on the ring, pretty much in pure survival mode. They lose all the marines to the Banished. One evening, after surviving a particularly harrowing attack where several of the boat crew are almost hauled away by Kig-Yar that intend to eat them (Jo in particular has a very traumatic time because he has to stab a Kig-Yar to death at grapple range), they find out that the UNSC has established a rally point at the crash site of the frigate Mortal Reverie.

I love the part where they go to the Reverie. The ship still has a lot of resources so people actually get to eat food and have clean water (though they have to aggressively ration it) and this is, of course, incredibly emotional for them. Also loved the somberness of all the survivors filtering in bringing all the dog tags of people they'd lost. Feed me delicious sorrow, Halo.

Meanwhile, Horvath is trapped on a bad piece of Halo that's getting worse. He finds that the Banished Phantom that chased him out onto this rock in the first place (and was then taken down by a Sentinel) ended up crashing on the Sentinel, so Horvath could theoretically use that Sentinel to jury-rig a way off the rock. Unfortunately, if he's going to do that he's going to need the help of Gorian: the lone Jiralhanae survivor of the Phantom crash. Gorian is a Bloodstar, a Spartan Hunter, and a real piece of work, but he agrees. They are both very clear that at the first second they can do it without jeopardizing their own survivals, they are going to backstab each other so fast.

Unfortunately, once they're off, Gorian has allies and Gorian is faster. He leaves a badly wounded Horvath to (presumably) die, but you know. Spartan-IVs. Horvath is instead just very unconscious. For days.

MEANWHILE, THE BOAT CREW.

During the time where the Reverie actually functions as an outpost for the UNSC they manage to establish the FOBs, and Fireteam Taurus puts their plan to assassinate Escharum into motion.

This, of course, as we know, fails, and the retribution is vicious. The survivors have very little time to prepare for an overwhelming Banished assault on the Mortal Reverie, which scatters them. The boat crew loses Jo. Spartan Kovan, whose armor is damaged and has started to randomly lock up in the gel layer, goes down. Browning, because he cares and because we love him, draws the Banished away from Kovan and the others by taking off on his own before they can stop him. This is how he gets captured, and how Kovan comes to feel responsible for what happens to him. Also, they're separated from Stone. Because all the Spartans' armor is jacked up and they have no way of fixing it out here, communications are spotty and long-range comms are pretty much lost by this point.

What happens to him is that Browning gets processed as a prisoner and bears witness to horrible atrocities, because the Banished are terrible and the Banished suck. Browning is allowed to live because he's not a soldier (they can tell, he's too scrawny) and that means maybe he's a scientist or something. He becomes one of the people the Banished are using to operate Forerunner technology, and is treated abominably in Chak 'Lok's tower like all the rest of the prisoners. He meets a fellow prisoner that is tortured often, way more than most people would be able to even survive, and who wants to know what happened at the Reverie and which Spartans Browning has seen. When asked his name, he tells Browning it's probably better for Browning if he doesn't know.

(The implication is really strong that this is Griffin. Poor, poor Griffin.)

Out on the ring, the scattered UNSC enacts the Rubicon Protocol: Pure asset denial. The chain of command doesn't matter anymore: if you can do something to fuck up the Banished, you don't need permission or authorization. Just do it, in any way you can.

There's some room for storytelling in this sketched out space in time, if you wanted: lots of little groups of people all over the place, not clustering together so they're harder for the Banished to deal with, lots of guerilla fighting and raids and sabotage. It's awful but there's also the hope of people bonding together in crisis. It's not a fleshed out detail but I loved that groups of UNSC give themselves names (one example is Hatriox) and establish a word-of-mouth "leaderboard" of who has done the most impressive shit, spreading the stories around whenever they run into one another. The surviving boat crew are very genuinely friends that care about one another.

Horvath gets up and, while trying to follow the trail of Gorian's activities, finds something tragic: a dying ONI operative (Kate Stalling) who had been studying Zeta Halo for two years before the Banished rolled in. Stalling has been brutally tortured and the Banished now know what the UNSC did about the ring's Conspectus network, which keeps a complete record of everything on/about Zeta Halo in its various hubs. Gorian and Jega 'Rdomnai are on their way to a Conspectus hub, and left Stalling to die.

There's really not much hope of Stalling recovering and she is in incredible pain. She asks Horvath to kill her but he can't do it, then she asks him to leave her his sidearm. He hates it and feels awful about it, but he does. Horvath sets off to follow the lead Stalling gave him re: the Conspectus network.

Meanwhile the boat crew actually finds Stone, and Stone and Kovan end up scouting the Mortal Reverie again. They also find out that Browning is still alive, because by this point the Banished have brought him up to the Forerunner site under/near the Reverie and used him to let out the Harbinger.

There's a devastatingly sad scene where Kovan sneaks onto the Phantom he's on to talk to him, and she can't actually take him with her because the shackles he's in will kill him if she tries.

Spartan Stone tells Kovan that she's going to investigate deeper into the Banished excavation (spoiler: it's Gorian and Jega at a Conspectus hub), and to give her a few days to do that.

This is the part where you're getting to be most of the way through the book and you're like "shit, I know she doesn't make it," and you are right to feel that way.

Stone witnesses Gorian and Jega using a human prisoner to extract a data node, then they destroy the hub and kill the prisoner. Stone steals the data node and fights BOTH OF THEM for time while her onboard AI copies the data and corrupts the original, so that once they do kill her and take it off her body it will be useless.

It's actually a very badass way to die and she succeeds and dies laughing blood at them and they have no idea.

When Stone doesn't come back, the rest of the group goes in and does find her body (and is Emotions) and recover the copy of the data her AI kept. They also run into one of the ring's submonitors: 091 Adjutant Veridity.

Veridity isn't the main monitor, but she's pretty irked that Cortana locked Despondent Pyre up in the Conservatory and locked all the submonitors out of the Halo's systems. But hey, what if these Reclaimers could go to the Conservatory and let Despondent Pyre out?

The boat crew picks up Horvath along the way (because he's following his Conspectus network lead) and they all go have a terrible time with the Banished over the Conservatory. They have three goals: 1) Release Pyre, 2) Use the data that Stone stole to send a message to the UNSC telling them the ring's current coordinates, and 3) kill Jega and Gorian.

They release Pyre, but Despondent Pyre isn't particularly eager to help them. Veridity has to yell at her a lot, and finally to tell her that HEY, the Banished let the Harbinger out, to get her to budge on it at all. Pyre explains that they don't have control over the ring's beacon towers anymore due to, you know, all the shit that's been going on, but she gives the boat crew a key to gain control of one if they can get to it. That's all the help she gives, though. She won't even let Veridity come along.

The boat crew goes out to the beacon tower and has further terrible Banished times. They lose Cam and Murphy (Murphy especially hurts) but manage to send the message. Kovan has a grudge match with Gorian and manages to kill him, but is on top of a teleportation pad that lights up and sends him god knows where. (This is where he is when he sends his final transmission we hear in Infinite)

The surviving boat crew (Kovan, Bender, and Dimik) are going to be overwhelmed by the Banished, but Veridity appears in time to save them and teleports them away to safety... somewhere else on the ring. God also knows where.

Kovan, Bender, and Dimik are last seen working on Kovan's damaged armor as much as they can, planning to try to rest and heal. Then, their new objective?

They're pretty sure Browning is still alive in the Tower. It sounds like as good a place to aspire to fuck up as any.

I frontloaded my opinion on this one because it's a recent Halo book and I figured people might... actually care... so I don't really have that left to say at the end here.

I liked it. I thought it was good. I cared about the characters and I'm glad to know more about what's going on. The actions in this book also meant something because getting that transmission out there re: the new location of the ring gives the hope that help might actually come, and that's lore-significant.

I am pleased!

[buckysfaveplum]

sputnik

summary: while on a mission, you discover a terrifying part of Bucky’s old programming

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings: swearing, idk if it’s a trigger but fainting, panic attacks mentioned, hydra being hydra

a/n: so every time i read into bucky and his history and stuff i always eventually come across sputnik and it makes me literally so sad. like it makes me wanna vomit…. so here’s this🥲

masterlist | send requests

“Y/N, have you guys cracked that code yet?” Sam’s voice buzzed through the comms in your ear. 

“Working on it,” you said. 

You were so tired of Hydra missions. So fucking tired. Every time you thought you’d eradicated the last of the baleful group, another base began to spike with activity. It was exhausting. But you couldn’t imagine what it was like for Bucky.

Technically you didn’t have to go on the missions. Hell, if Bucky had his way, you’d never set foot in a Hydra base again. But you couldn’t sit by and watch Bucky tear himself apart over these missions. You’d demanded Sam add you to all missions involving Hydra after a particularly bad one. You couldn’t shake the image of Bucky trembling and hiding in the corner of the jet, how he flinched as you came over to try to coax him out. How Sam’s voice cracked as he called you and begged you to come to help his friend. Since then, you vowed Bucky would never have to go on a Hydra mission without you.

Bucky leaned over you, gun loaded and ready to defend, as he watched you work at the codes in the computer system. Sam and Bucky had gone off to rescue hostages and take out the few agents in the building. You’d taken off to wipe the systems and shut down their communication lines. After the hostages were safe, Bucky took off looking for you. He’d found you deep in concentration in the computer room. 

“Doll, we gotta get moving soon. I got a bad feeling some agents are headed this way,” Bucky said, a hand resting gently on your back.

“I’m almost done, one second,” you said.  

You could feel Bucky fidgeting behind you. How his vibranium fingers clanked against the cool metal of his gun. His foot tapping relentlessly on the floor. You didn’t have to turn around to know his eyes were darting around the room, his jaw clenched and brows furrowed. He hated being in these bases, all the memories of his days at Hydra flooding back. He hated you being there even more.

“Got it!” you said finally crashing the system. You stepped back and adjusted the gun strapped to your hip before turning to Bucky. You were ecstatic to leave. 

Bucky leaned forward, examining your work, before taking his gun and smashing the end into the screens. You watched as he tore through each computer before finally being satisfied. With a smug look, he made his way back to you.

“What’s that gonna do?” you asked, chuckling.

“Just being thorough,” he said, flashing you a quick smirk.

“Okay tough guy, come on.”

You led the way out the room, Bucky covered you from behind as you both stalked down the halls. Bucky always admired how smooth and stealthy you were. How you could easily slip in and out of places undetected. How you fought with skill and elegance, well as elegantly as one can while shooting a Hydra bastard in the back of the neck. He couldn’t have been more opposite; all force and brute strength. Acting before he thought. He loved how you balanced him out.

You hadn’t made it more than a few doors before alarms filled the building. The ominous glow of red lights colored the hallways as they flashed in time with the sirens. You turned to Bucky, taken aback and anxious.

“Guys, get out of there now!” Sam said through the comms. “Some agents are headed your way.”

“Shit!” Bucky said, pushing past you and pulling you behind him. 

He moved with an urgent speed, navigating the two of you through the tattered brick hallways. Something seemed to overtake him. His grip on your arm was strong, a bit too tight for your liking, but you wouldn’t say anything. His breathing seemed to grow rapidly as he searched for an exit. 

It was times like these you cursed his super-soldier abilities. His enhanced speed in combination with his legs, much longer than your own, had you stumbling to keep up behind him. Something was off. You weren’t supposed to see combat today, he made sure of that. You could see the dread wash over him as he realized you were in danger.

“Buck, slow down,” you said, struggling to keep up.

“I gotta get you outta here,” he said, slowing only enough to pull you to his side under his arm.

“Relax, it’s gonna be o-” you couldn’t finish your sentence before Bucky stumbled back, freezing in place. You would have nearly toppled over were it not for Bucky’s firm grip on you. His arms showed you behind him slightly, still keeping an arm firmly wrapped in front of you. 

Now on sturdy ground, you looked up, the sight before you explaining Bucky’s halt. Six agents stood before you, sizable guns in their hands. Their harsh gaze focused on Bucky. Two had their guns up, aimed straight at you. You could feel Bucky’s muscles tightening as he stared them down, contemplating his next move. Slowly, as to not alert the agents, you slipped a hand up Bucky’s back, gripping tight on the straps of his jacket.

A large man emerged from behind the agents, stepping forward with a sly smirk on his face. His hands rested clasped behind his back. His stance was cold and haunting, staring straight ahead at Bucky. You watched Bucky’s jaw tighten as the man stepped forward. Did he know him?

“I heard from my men you were in the building,” the man said. “Welcome home, Soldat.”

Bucky stood frozen in front of you, ignoring the man as he tried to figure out how to handle the situation. He had one goal, get you out unharmed.

“Don’t call him that,” Bucky’s head jerked to stare you down at your outburst. You met his eye and were crushed by his look. He was begging, pleading with you to stay quiet. To stay out of this and let him handle it.

“Ah and who is this?” the man said, turning his attention to you. 

Bucky forced you further behind him, his grip on his gun tightening. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, trying to stay calm. His fingers dug into your hip and wove into the straps on your pants, trying to ground himself.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said, his eyes shooting daggers at the man.

“It’s a shame you brought her here, Soldat. It’s just gonna make this harder,” the man said.

“I’m not coming with you.” 

Bucky’s breathing was growing erratic. You needed help, now. Slipping further behind Bucky, you ducked to press your comm. Sam, we need help, now! You sent him your location, telling him to come as fast as he could.

The man smirked as he began to rattle off Bucky’s trigger words. You didn’t let him get past furnace before letting out a scoff.

“Those days are gone. Your words don’t work on him anymore,” you said, grabbing at Bucky’s arm.

“Oh, really? All of them?” the man asked, cocking his head towards you. Your eyes narrowed, confused. You looked up to Bucky to see him beginning to shake. The man turned back to him with a smirk.

“Please, no,” Bucky said timidly. You’d never heard his voice so small.

“sputnik”

Nothing could have prepared you for what followed. You heard his gun clatter on the floor before you registered what happened. Bucky collapsed before you, falling with a loud thud to the ground. He laid before you motionless, eyes closed, limbs heavy, and face pressed into the concrete. You were feral. 

“Bucky!” you shouted, falling to the floor beside him. Gently, you hauled him over onto his back. His face was slack and relaxed, too much to be normal. You always wished to see Bucky calm without the worried creases he always wore. But not like this.

“Baby, baby, wake up,” you said, shaking him softly. He was heavy in your arms as you held him close. Your body was trembling, terrified. Desperately, you cupped his face, trying to will him back to you.

“What the fuck did you do?” you shouted, turning to look at the man. 

“He was disobeying orders,” he said, his agents circling around you, trapping you.

“You don’t own him.”

“Don’t we?”

You turned your attention back to Bucky, still slack in your arms. Your grip was firm, holding him close to you, shielding him from the agents that circled him like vultures. Gingerly, you tucked his face into the crook of your neck, one hand cradling the back of his head while the other wrapped around him. 

“Buck, please. Please, sweetie, come back,” you whispered. Sam rang on the comms earlier, he would be there any minute. But Bucky still wasn’t conscious.

“Okay boys, let’s get a move on,” the man said. The men began to move in, one making a reach for Bucky. Another came from behind, trying to pry you off him.

“Stop! No, don’t touch him!” you screamed, pulling free and dragging Bucky from their trespassing hands. “Stay away from him!”

An agent came up behind you, smashing the back of his gun between your shoulder blades. You howled in pain, your grip loosening as you fell forward. Quickly, two agents pulled you back. You cried out as they blocked Bucky from your reach.

“Y/N!” 

You looked over your shoulder. Sam came running forward, 3 Sword agents behind him. Relief flooded your chest as you saw them storm in, attacking the agents. Sam rushed to your side, noticing the scraps and blood across your face.

“Y/N, you okay?” he asked.

“Help Bucky,” you said, frantically.

-

The jet was quiet as you made your way back home. Sam sat at the front, writing up a mission report, while you tucked yourself away in the back. Huddled up on the benches, you sat with Bucky pulled close to your chest. He hadn’t woken yet, still limp in your arms. After Sam cleared the situation, he carried him back with you close behind. You were frantic to have him back in your arms. To keep him safe. You kept him close, your arms tight around him. It was horrifying seeing the man you loved, the man who was always so strong and resilient, weak and silent in your grasp. You couldn’t wrap your head around it. One second he was fine, standing and ready to fight. The next he was on the floor, motionless. The sight of him falling was burned on the back of your eyelids, replaying over and over again.

You carded a hand through his hair, trying to keep him as comfortable as possible. His large limbs were spread across the bench, you trying to hold as much of him as you could. Trying to encase him in your love. Slowly, you began to feel his eyes twitch against your jawline. You pulled back, cupping his face softly. After a moment, you were greeted with your favorite blue eyes.

“Doll?” he asked, his voice groggy. 

“Hi, baby,” you said, a smile spreading across your face. Your fingers brushed along his cheekbone and up through his tufts of hair.

“Fuck,” he said. Gradually, he began to regain control over his limbs. The loose and limp feeling of him in your arms was now gone as he began to stretch. His arms wrapped around your middle, pulling him closer to you.

“What was that, Bucky?” you asked. He looked up to see you staring down at him, concerned and scared.

“An old trigger word. Guess I forgot to tell Shuri. Still works apparently,” Bucky said, a dry laughing coming out at the end. Your brows furrowed at his response.

“You just fell, Buck. You just collapsed. I was so scared. You weren’t moving or answering me. The thud when you hit the fl-” he cut off your rambling, sitting up and pulling you to his chest.

“They used it as a fail-safe. If I was too erratic or didn’t listen. It makes me go unconscious,” he said. A shudder ran down your spine at his words. How had you never known this? Something so terrifying that left him so vulnerable.

Bucky sat quiet, the two of you wrapped in each other's arms. He didn’t know what to say, how to comfort you. Truth was, he was terrified himself. All that work, all that time thinking he was finally free, just for one word to bring him back.

“I’m never gonna be free of them,” he said, tucking his face into your neck.

“Don’t say that,” you said frantically. “We’ll call Shuri, we’ll get it out of your head. It’s gonna be okay.” 

“They’re never gonna stop coming for me. And I’ll just keep putting you in danger. I can’t do that anymore,” he said, his grip on you beginning to loosen.

“I don’t care, you don’t put me in danger. Okay, baby? I’ll always be here. I won’t let them take you.” 

You pulled yourself back, taking his face in your hands. He looked so tired.

“I love you so much. I love you so much. Do you get that? I was so scared when you- I will do anything for you, Buck. We’re gonna call Shuri. We’re gonna fix this,” you said.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said, finally meeting your gaze. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Your hands caressed the sides of his face, holding him close to you. 

“Don’t apologize, my sweet boy,” you said. 

“I love you Y/N, so fucking much,” he said, resting his forehead to yours. “And I fucking hate that you go on these missions.”

You chuckled at his statement. 

“Yeah well after today, I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

You pulled him in, capturing his lips with yours. Your hand rested on the back of his neck, rubbing gently as your lips moved together. You were desperate to feel him, to feel his move and breathe and just be okay.

Never had you felt more petrified, more helpless. You were fully in love with this man, your Bucky. Something that left the two of you vulnerable, each other's weakness. But nothing would keep you away from him.

Your kiss was short-lived as you heard a cough from the front of the jet.

“Hey Romeo, Juliet, if you too could stop sucking face for a minute, we’ll be landing soon,” Sam said.

You just laughed, pressing your face into Bucky’s chest, trying to hide the pink hue blooming across your cheeks.

—

taglist:

@baby-banana @mattymurdocksbitch @themorningsunshine @skyfullofinfinities

[gingeraleluke]

dolled up: happy 1k !! woohoooo! could you do a concept surrounding the venice film festival with zendaya and timothee but instead on zendaya it’s y/n. thanks!

y/n plays chani in dune and wears the same dress that zendaya wore to the festival!

they also aren’t dating in this one, but they are both crushing on each other!

bold and italic is timothée’s thoughts

BASED ON THIS PICTURE

“oh, wow! there they are.” timothée pointed at them through your window, his hand in your peripheral vision.

y/n stumbled over hollowed out breaths as the fans outside of the festival, came into view. while she’d like to blame it on the crowd, she knew that timothée’s hand placement on her leg, wasn’t helping. the simple touch from him, made her giddy. interestingly enough, she was still nervous around him, even after kissing him for the camera and spending months together on set.

“hey, you okay?” she turned and flinched slightly at how close timothée’s smiling face was to hers. his skin was glistening and she could make out small sparkles in the powder that the makeup team plastered him with.

“oh, yeah! yeah, i’m fine.”

y/n y/l/n wasn’t new to red carpets. with over thirty award nominations and 17.5 million followers, she was used to being in the spotlight— just not with timothée.

she was admittedly starting to fall for him and every second around him made her nervous. she was scared that she would trip over him on the carpet or that people would be able to read the lovestruck look in her eyes. the last thing she wanted was to be embarrassed like that.

timothée stepped out of the lexus car, leaning over and softly reassuring y/n that they would be okay before opening the door to reveal her to everyone. she was immediately hit with the sound of screaming fans and flashing cameras. gulping, she grabbed timothée’s hand, which he had reached out for her, trying to ignore the butterflies his touch gave her.

her gown was far from humdrum, a tan balmian dress, made of leather with a thigh high slit. the dress and her slicked back hair, gave her a dewy appearance while her glowy, intense smokey eye, kept her looking alive. a large snake pendant was wrapped around her neck, the 93 carat, emerald necklace, being the only source of coolness on her skin. she hadn’t noticed how sexy timothée thought she looked. how he could barely keep his eyes off of her, for every time he was looking at her, she was drifting out the window, lost in her thoughts. the two had been pining after one another for the longest time, both of them being too scared to do anything. everyone, including the fans, could tell. everyone but them.

timothée felt himself zone out in her appearance, quickly snapping out of it.

how am i supposed to keep cool when she looks like that?

“watch your step!” timothée warned, using his leg to keep the car door open.

“thank you.”

“no problem.”

gosh, he’s always such a gentleman.

“WHATS UP!?” timmy greeted the crowd, watching how excited everyone was. y/n gave a small wave, too nervous to even properly greet them. this wasn’t like her. she was technically a bigger celebrity than timothée was, yet she felt so intimidated by his presence.

a camera man touched her shoulder to get her attention and held his camera up. “oh—“

y/n lightly grabbed timothée’s collar to get his attention and the two of them posed for a quick photo in front of the car. timothée wrapped an arm around her back and smiled. she knew it was just for the picture, but when she felt his touch, she couldn’t help but squeal on the inside.

he looked like a rockstar. his hair was tousled and the sunglasses that framed his face, matched with the black sparkly shirt he wore.

how the hell am i supposed to keep cool when he looks like that?

the two continued walking, timothée motioning for y/n to go first. she had to count her steps in order to distract herself. she felt sick with nervousness, scared that she would fall. she didn’t show it on her face, though.

y/n instinctively started posing for the cameras, while timothée branched off to go talk to the fans. she didn’t notice his absence, and once she did, she wasn’t sure how to feel. she was upset that he left her, yet felt like she could finally breathe, now that he was gone. nonetheless, talking to the fans made him happy, and that made her happy.

meanwhile, timothée had to distract himself. he had taken every chance he got to distance himself from y/n, terrified of people noticing the weird spark between the two. and now that people saw them kiss for the film, dating questions were sure to be asked.

and as much as timothée wanted to be her boyfriend, he wasn’t.

posing for some of the photographers at the beginning of the red carpet, y/n could hear the almost embarrassingly loud screams of her name. she laughed, feeling bad for not saying hi to them, and told the photographers that she would be right back, before carefully walking over there.

“you can’t go back there—“ a security man stopped her, shaking his head no.

“but, i just—“

“i’m sorry miss.” multiple men blocked her way as she looked over and saw men doing the same to timothée. he continued talking to the fans in the distance, making her heart flutter.

getting to an area where the crowd could see her through the people, she waved to her fans and watched them all call her name in return.

“THEY WONT LET ME!” she made an exaggerated frown on her face before forming a heart with her hands. “I LOVE YOU, THOUGH!”

after countless poses and waves, y/n finally made it to the end of the carpet. cameras were still shoved in her face as costars around her made small talk. she gazed over her shoulder and saw that timothée was still with some photographers. feeling overwhelmed, she waited for him to finish, like a lost puppy.

timothée must have noticed, because he mouthed a quick ‘i’m coming.’

seconds later, he approached her. fixing her posture and smiling at him, “hey!”

“hey, it’s crazy right?!” the two of you walked down the carpet again, talking through the crowd.

“yeah. do you um— do you know which side we are supposed to go on? i don’t know which one we do first..” she stuttered.

“oh, yeah. i’ve gotchu, hey.” he turned to lock eyes with her, “are you okay?”

“yeah, just nervous.”

“wow, the famous y/n y/l/n nervous? i’m honored..”

“oh shut up.” she giggled, rolling her eyes and following the people ahead of them.

once the reached the area, they began to take photos together. their eyes darted in between cameras and they awkwardly stood next to one another. a moment clicked when they both decided to look at one another, but it just so happened to be at the same time.

fuck, does he know?

fuck, she definitely knows..

“i never know which leg to lean on..” timmy joked, trying to lighten the mood after being caught looking at her.

leg to lean on?

tim, come on man… that’s just sad..

“oh, yeah! i never know which hand to put on my hip.” y/n nodded, flipping her hair back and looking at the cameras.

out of all of the things i could have said?

god, i sound like a pick me girl, don’t i?

they continued taking pictures, timothée helping her fix the tail of her gown, occasionally. as soon as they finished, timothée darted away to talk to some people, leaving her alone… again.

she decided to talk to some of the publicists who were calling her name. she came up with small talk about the movie dune while also talking about her excitement for adele’s new music. she ran out of things to say before being asked the million dollar question.

“no, we aren’t dating.”

the question came up in timothée and rebecca’s conversation as well. “so, how are you and the mrs…?” she wiggled her eyebrows at y/n who was talking to someone. timothée’s heart sank at the upsetting reality.

“you know it isn’t like that..”

“right, but it could be.”

it could be?

“how do you know she’s even interested?” he crossed his arms and bit his lip, anxiously.

“you never know until you try.”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

being careful not to slam the car door on her foot, y/n slouched into the back of the car. she was beyond tired and wanted nothing but to go watch tv and relax.

“hey!” timothée’s voice was muffled and his knocks on her car window, startled her. the driver rolled the window down for him.

“hi—“

“hey, um.. ar— do you have plans?” he looked like he was being chased by the cops; hurried and nervous. he licked his lips as he spoke to her.

“right now?”

“yeah. yeah, now.”

“uh, no..why?” she smiled.

“good, i wanted you to come over. my friends are having a little dune themed party and i wanted you to come.”

she pressed her lips together, trying to contain her grin.

“oh, um.. sure!”

“cool, then.. it’s a date! let’s go.” she hopped out of the car and followed him to his.

the word date made her face heat up.

not that kind of date, y/n…

the two of them made their way to the backseat as he spoke to the driver. she was giddy and her legs were bouncing.

leaning back, timothée spoke to her. “i’m sure they will love you, they are really chill people. they’re family friends actually.”

y/n nodded, feeling timothée’s hand on her knee in a reassuring manner, much like he did earlier. “oh, and don’t worry,” he spoke,

“i’ll take you on a real date after this.”

COME JOIN THE SLUMBER PARTY!

[some-messed-up-writing-for-you]

"Can you write one where Hero is in an abusive/toxic relationship with SuperHero but thinking it's normal while Villain is worried and tries to get them out of the said relationship? (also Villain does have feelings for Hero in this)"

Request #7

Warning: toxic/abusive relationship, physical & mental abuse.

This was a fun one! Definitely gotta write a part two later!

Enjoy! ^_^

~~~~

"Boss, we're in." - one of Villain's subordinates called from the side as they and a group of others operated the new spy drones the villain had recently got their hands on. The machines were tiny, smaller than a fingernail, and could be easily mistaken for an insect. Equipped with the best cameras around, they allowed Villain to easily snoop for information.

And what better first target to try them out on than Hero? Their hero, their nemesis. They would never admit it out loud, but Villain quite enjoyed the battles the two shared. Perhaps even a bit too much...

"Perfect!" - the villain exclaimed from their chair, excited grin adorning their face, "Let's see what we can find~."

The camera feed came to life on the giant monitor before them, and the sight that greeted them... made their stomach twist into a thousand knots.

"S-SuperHero, please! I-I'm sorry!" - Hero begged, lying on the floor of what appeared to be a bedroom. Their upper body was exposed, skin bruised in so many places Villain couldn't keep count.

SuperHero stood over them, hands clenching and power crackling in the air around them. They looked just about ready to murder the other hero.

Murder? The thought made Villain's heart grip with worry. But why should the villain care? They wanted their nemesis gone, didn't they?

No, they didn't. They knew that they didn't.

"I told you not to fuck this up, and what did you do?" - the superhero growled out, their anger unlike anything Villain had ever seen from them before.

"YOU FUCKED IT UP!" - SuperHero yelled, grabbing Hero and throwing them across the room and into a wall. A pained cry left them, and they could only whimper as their body sunk to the floor. The hero didn't dare get up as the other approached them once more.

"VILLAIN FUCKING GOT AWAY AGAIN!" - a kick to their stomach made Hero cry out in pain a second time. SuperHero grabbed them by the hair and pulled them closer, screaming directly in their face, "ALL BECAUSE YOU'RE SUCH A WORTHLESS FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT! YOU CAN'T DO ANYTHING RIGHT!"

Hero was tossed once more, every part of them screaming in agony. They shook in terror as the superhero moved closer yet again. Their muscles tensed as SuperHero's form loomed over them. Hero prepared for their punishment to continue, for the pain to keep on coming.

Only for their partner to pass by them and go out the door, slamming it shut. The familiar click of a door locking entered the hero's ears as they released a shaky breath.

Villain sat there, frozen. Out of everything they had expected to see, this was not on the list. Weren't these two in a relationship?! Weren't they supposed to- to love each other or something?!

Hero's sobs and sniffles echoed across their lair as the villain silently watched their broken form curl up on the hard floor. Their gaze grew dark at the sight, a tinge of worry drowning in their rage.

"Cut the feed." - Villain said sternly after a moment, voice devoid of emotion. They stood from their chair and immediately went for the door.

"B-Boss, wait! Where are you-" - one of the henchmen tried but cut themself off as their employer turned around. The look in the villain's eyes made their blood run cold. Villain was never a bad boss by any means, as they never hurt or threatened their employees.

But that look... It made everyone in the room tense up. It was like locking gazes with a hungry predator, and it made the henchmen feel like prey. It made them realize...

Villain was out for blood.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hero had been lying on the floor for what felt like hours, and it probably was. They had run out of tears a while ago now. They wanted to move but couldn't bring themself to. Everything just hurt so much. Even breathing was a struggle.

At least the cold floor helped numb some of their pain, but still... Hero knew they deserved this...

They let Villain get away again. They should've captured the criminal, but they failed. They failed like they always do. Hero was such a waste of space. Why was SuperHero even still with them? Hero was truly nothing but a burden on their partner. They always had to take care of Hero, always had to waste their time and remind them how pathetic they were. SuperHero was too good for them. They deserved better than Hero. They should just leave them already. They should get rid of Hero. They should-

The door unlocked.

The hero tensed up, curling up into a tight ball, preparing for the pain as the door was opened, and a pair of footsteps slowly approached them. The person walked in front of them and kneeled down to their level. Hero's breathing grew shakier with each passing second. Why was nothing happening?!

They were about to beg, but before a single word could leave them, they cringed as a hand landed on their head.

Hero was prepared for that hand to roughly grab them, to pull them up by their hair, to hurt them. In their terror, they failed to realize that the stranger was gently petting them, their fingers running through their hair. Only when they spoke did Hero's mind register what was happening.

"Hero?" - came a hushed whisper. That voice... Hero knew that voice. It... It was...

"V-Villain..?" - the hero mewled, voice broken and hoarse. Confusion overtook their eyes as they continued, "W-What are you... doing here..?"

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here to get you out of here." - the villain comforted them or tried to anyway. Their response seemed to have only terrified Hero that much more, their eyes widening with fear.

"B-But- But SuperHero..." - Hero whimpered, their body shaking once more. The villain hushed them again and gently picked them up in a bridal carry. Villain noticed how the other shuddered from their touch but snuggled into their chest nonetheless, their arms loosely wrapping around the villain's neck.

"So terrified of contact... and yet so desperate for it..." - Villain thought to themself, pity making their chest ache. Even they weren't this lonely! And for the hero to be like this... For their Hero to be so ruined...

It was unacceptable.

Villain swore that they would make sure Hero knew what real love and care looked like. They would show them how a real relationship worked.

They would make sure SuperHero paid for this.

Returning to reality, the villain insured that they had a good grip on their hero and walked out of the room. They moved with haste through Hero's house, as they had no time to spare. In their earlier fury and concern, all logic had left them. Villain had just rushed over to save the hero, without even considering that SuperHero might still be lurking around.

"Gah! Why is this house so damn big?!" - the villain thought to themself as they turned another corner, concern starting to eat away at them. They could technically just fly out the window with the help of their powers, but they wanted to avoid drawing attention. The streets were littered with people and other heroes, and Villain would have an advantage if nobody saw them stealing the hero away. Sneaking in here was already hard enough, but now they needed to get out before-

"You... YOU..."

-SuperHero saw them. As Hero's 'partner' began to charge straight at them down the long hall Villain froze at their enraged gaze, but their hero's shaky grip on their shoulders brought them back into reality.

The villain turned on their heel, and just as the superhero's hand brushed against their back, as the air around them crackled from SuperHero's anger, they summoned their power and jumped into the air. They flew through the house, speeding like their life depended on it.

Because, well, it did. Not just Villain's life... but their hero's life as well.

Flying around the inside of a building was already difficult enough, but doing it while panicking and carrying someone in their arms? It was a nightmare, but Villain was determined. They were determined to never let SuperHero lay another finger on Hero.

As Villain turned another sharp corner, they nearly crashed into the wall, barely catching themself just in time. As they regained their bearings, a giant window greeted them at the end of the hall, and seeing as they have already been spotted, Villain decided to just go for it.

They bolted for the window, tightened their grip on Hero, and, at the last second, twisted their body around midair. They winced as they crashed through the glass with their back, shielding the hero from the sharp shards.

As blood dripped from their fresh wounds, the villain ignored the pain and dashed up into the sky, hiding amidst the dark clouds looming over the city. Once they were out of sight, they headed straight for their lair, never looking back.

Meanwhile, down on the ground, SuperHero looked up into the sky where the two had just disappeared, a tiny disabled drone sitting in their hand that they could barely stop themself from breaking into pieces.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hero groaned as they awakened from their slumber. At some point during their and Villain's escape, they had passed out. The hero vaguely remembered the villain taking them high up into the clouds and nothing else past that. They tried to open their eyes and take in their surroundings but only managed to whine as their head exploded with pain.

The hero felt like they were burning up, it was just so hot for some reason. They have been feeling rather sickly the past few days, so perhaps they were running a fever? They tried to pry their eyes open once more but stopped as something gently landed on their forehead and made them flinch out of reflex.

They whimpered as a hand touched their head, petting their hair. However, a familiar hushing sound brought some of their senses back. They finally recognized the coolness on their brow as a wet cloth. And that hand and voice, it was unmistakable.

"V..Vill..ain...?" - the hero tried but only ended up getting themself into a coughing fit. Their throat felt drier than a desert, with some cactus spikes scratching at it as a bonus.

As if their mind was being read, a cup of water was brought to their lips. The hand from before carefully lifting their head so that they could drink. Hero swallowed every drop of the precious liquid, the pain in their throat easing as their head was laid back down.

Finally, albeit with some difficulty, they managed to blearily open their eyes, blinking a few times to adjust their vision. They were lying in a soft bed of what appeared to be a guest bedroom, a fluffy blanket covering their still naked torso. Looking up, Hero was met with the concerned face of Villain.

"Wait... Con...cerned...?" - they pondered, why would their nemesis be worried about them...? And now that they thought about it more... Why...

"Why... d...did...you...?"

"Someone had to get you out of there." - Villain cut in, wanting to spare Hero's throat the struggle. "And before you ask how I even knew you needed help, I happened to be... ah... spying on you at the time."

"H...Help...?" - the hero voiced their confusion, completely ignoring - or perhaps not registering - the 'spying' part as their eyebrows slightly furrowed, "I... didn't need... help..."

Villain frowned at their words. Hero could see the concern on the other's face growing even more as they voiced their own confusion, "What do you mean you 'didn't need help'? They were hurting you."

"No... That's... normal... They were just... trying to... help... me... be better..." - Hero muttered out, they thought this would clear things up, but their explanation seemed to only upset the villain more.

"Hero, that's not- Partners aren't supposed to hurt each other! That's not helping in the slightest!" - in their momentary anger Villain raised their voice too much, and regret immediately flooded them as they watched the hero flinch and cower away from them, fresh tears making their eyes glossy.

"No, Hero- I-" - the villain tried hastily but stopped themself, seeing as their sudden movements only rattled the poor hero even more. Instead, they took in a small breath, did their best to relax their tense posture, and slowed down, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I..."

"P-Please don't be angry..." - the hero whined, scared the villain would suddenly do a one-eighty and hit them. However, to Hero's confusion, Villain's face was only decorated with pain and concern, no anger or rage to be seen. They weakly gripped the blanket covering them in their nerves.

In a hushed whisper, the villain responded, "No, I'm- I'm not angry with you." They gently took hold of one of Hero's hands and did their best to comfort them, "It's okay. I promise I'm not angry with you. Nobody here will hurt you, I promise. You're safe here."

As Villain left a small kiss on their knuckles, Hero watched them, still rather unconvinced, "B-But if you're not angry... T-Then why did you y-yell?" - they whimpered, the sound twisting the other's heart even more.

"I am angry, but not with you, Hero." - the villain's words only confused the hero even more. If Villain wasn't mad at them, then... then at who? Hero was the one who messed everything up all the time!

"I'm angry with SuperHero. They hurt you. They hurt you, and you don't even realize it..."

"B-But..." - Hero tried to argue, but Villain gently hushed them again, putting their hand back down.

"For now, just get some more rest, okay? And when you wake up, I'll have some food ready for you so you can eat."

Hero wanted to protest but found that they were too exhausted to even try. They only whined tiredly as Villain gently flipped the cloth on their forehead over, refreshing coolness spreading through their head once more. And combined with the villain softly petting their head, Hero was out like a light within moments.

Villain stayed like that for a few minutes, watching the hero sleep. Their gaze grew fond as they observed the slow rise and fall of the other's chest. Soon, however, they retreated out of the room, letting their rage overtake their features. They were well aware that SuperHero would come and find them. So, they had no time to waste. The villain had to prepare.

They had to be ready to protect their Hero.

[rendevousz]

niagara falls of blood?

avengers x fem!teen!reader

summary: pretty much what the title is, you on your period

warnings: your moodswings ig

word count: 2765

"rise and shine, y/n!" you hear an annoying voice sing just as the lights flickered on. you grumbled something inaudible, hiding underneath your blanket to shield yourself from the brightness that steve just brought upon your room.

"y/n/n, come on. wakey-wakey!" you groan, feeling super unmotivated to train today. you even felt like punching steve in his perfect-looking face just for waking you up at the crack ass of dawn. this was unusual because you loved jogs before the sun came up and trainings before it hit noon.

"steve, if you don't shut the hell up right now, i'm gonna push you into that lake beside our usual jogging route."

"jeez, y/n, woke up on the wrong side or what?" he teases, finally leaving once he saw you were already sitting up. you groggily walked to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth before changing into your workout clothes.

"no!" you whine when you saw that you were on your period. that's why you were in a crappy mood when steve woke you up. you begrudgingly dressed up after putting on a pad, grabbing a small towel on the way out.

like you did every morning, you were gonna go on a run with steve, bucky and sam. while you loved running, you hated how steve and bucky "cheated" —as you and sam liked to call it— with their super soldier staminas. that was why you loved having sam there. not only was he great company but he was also moral support because you two would always be hilariously overtook by steve and bucky multiple times. but that didn't matter because you two would always be completely immersed in your conversations every time.

but not today though. you already knew today was going to be different. you had gotten a bad start to the day with steve's and your usual morning routine which somehow annoyed you this one time. and having to run around with your cramps definitely didn't help lighten your mood.

"kid, you okay?" sam asks from your right side. you'd been silent throughout the whole run and sam knew something was up when you didn't laugh at his jokes like how you usually would. "just cramps. they're hurting a lot so i'm probably gonna skip training today." you explain and he slowed down his pace causing you to slow down too since you always had to run side by side.

"y/n/n, you should probably stop now if you're having cramps. it might make it worse—i think? i don't know, actually. i don't know how periods work but i know cramps hurt a lot so i think you should stop. yeah, you should stop." his rambling speech made you feel a bit better now knowing he wants you to take care of yourself. "you know what? yeah, i think i'm gonna go. sorry i have to leave you with the two cheaters."

he smiled at you, telling you not to worry about it. you were touched and your mood significantly brightened but before you could reply him, rhythmic footsteps echoed from a distance from behind you two and you knew what was coming.

"on your left."

before steve and bucky could just pass by peacefully like they did the past nine times, you managed to throw a punch to steve's side, effectively slowing him down when he stumbled and then completely stopped. "what gives, y/n?!" bucky then stopped too, wanting to know what was up.

"that's for this morning." you glared at him and he looked at you in confusion, holding onto his side where you punched him. though you were significantly smaller than he was—than any of them were, really—, you could definitely throw a punch. speaking of punch, you gave him another on his other side and he flinched, giving you an incredulous look, one that resembled betrayal.

"and that's for being a cheater." you narrowed your eyes at him. "oN yOuR LeFt." you mocked him, rolling your eyes before ultimately leaving the trio to walk back to the tower. they looked at your fading figure and exchanged looks with each other in confusion. "what...what just happened?"

"y/n's on her period so we gotta be careful with her." sam explained and steve being steve, his cheeks tinted slight pink as the thought slightly embarrassed him.

"period? you mean the niagra falls of blood," bucky states, taking a long sip out his water bottle. sam rolled his eyes at this but nodded anyways. "also, she doesn't want training today so unless any of you have a death wish, don't call her down for anything other than for food, got it?"

"yes, sir."

"got it."

-

"you do it,"

"i don't want to, you do it."

"can one of you just do it? why don't you guys want to wake y/n up?" nat stopped bucky and steve's little argument as she turned away from the stove for a bit. "you two love waking her up and carrying her down to eat. what happened?"

"womanhood happened," steve mumbled bitterly, rubbing his sides where you hit him this morning. apparently you had hit him hard enough to bruise a little. nat rolled her eyes in realisation. "period?"

"no, no, not period. satan's montly ritual inside of y/n. you should've seen her this morning, nat. it was like she was possessed!" steve exaggerates. "okay, let's not be dramatic here," bucky rolls his eyes at his best friend. steve only looked at him with fear in his eyes and bucky sighs. "fine, i'll do it. but if i don't return, tell sam he still can't have my snacks. no one can have my snacks."

nat only shakes her head before turning back to the stove to finish cooking lunch.

meanwhile, bucky was making his way up to your room. deep down he was scared to face you after your episode in the morning. "y/n/n? doll, it's lunch." he spoke when he entered your room. he melted when he saw you all snuggled up in bed, asleep, hugging your life-sized teddy bear that tony gifted you last christmas.

"doll? time to eat," he whispered, gently shaking you awake. you slowly opened your eyes to see bucky sitting on your bed, trying to wake you up from your nap. "what time is it?" you asked, rubbing your eyes, your lips jutting out subconsciously. bucky internally cooed at how adorable you looked. "it's afternoon, you skipped breakfast so nat wants you to eat lunch." he tells you.

"tell her i'm sleepy," you said, adjusting yourself back under the blanket. "y/n/n, you gotta eat. nat's gonna kill me if i go back down there without you." he shakes you again and you look up at him with you doe eyes. "then don't go back down. cuddle me, jamesie!" you pouted, giving him your best sad puppy look.

he had a brief internal battle with himself before losing and giving in, slipping next to you and hugging you, providing you warmth that even your blanket couldn't provide. bucky knew nat would have his head but how could he say no to that adorable face? and you using his real name? ultimate weakness.

soon, you were back asleep, cuddling up to him. he smiled down at you, loving how peaceful you seemed when you were sleeping. and before he knew it, he too fell asleep.

-

"what's taking him so long?" nat huffed and steve's jaw dropped slightly, looking at her in worry. "who's telling sam he can't have bucky's snacks?"

"don't be ridiculous, steve. go get them or i'm telling sam he can't have your snacks too." steve sighs, getting up from the barstool and making his way up to your room.

safe to say he was expecting pretty much anything but the sight of you and bucky asleep, cuddled up to each other. steve's lips jutted out and he cooed at you both. he snapped a quick picture before approaching you two, sitting on your bed beside your sleeping figure.

"y/n/n? sweetie, you need to eat." he says softly as he shook you awake. the shaking seemed to wake bucky up too and when your eyes fluttered open, steve smiled down at you. "bubba? it's lunch," he looks over at bucky in disappointment for having fallen asleep when he had a task. bucky only shrugs his shoulders as if saying 'hey man, i had no choice'.

"stevie?" you groaned out and he smiled. "come on, let's go have lunch, nat is waiting downstairs." he tries to get you to sit up but you resist. "come sleep, stevie," you pulled the same trick you did with bucky and it's no surprise the blond super-soldier fell for it too. everyone had a soft spot for you.

steve laid next to you and you're then sandwiched between two super-soldiers, already falling back asleep in just seconds.

"you know nat's gonna kill us, right buck?"

"then let her try. we can use y/n/n to get out of it. i mean, can you even recall the last time anyone said no to that adorable face?"

"sam says no to her sometimes."

"yeah but he always ends up feeling bad so,"

"okay yeah, you're right."

"that's exactly why we're stuck in this situation, right dear ol' stevie? so i say we just sleep and if nat tries to scold us, we'll technically be under y/n/n's protection because nat won't scream in our faces in front of her."

"good call. night, buck."

"night, steve."

-

"i can't believe i sent two super-soldier idiots to go wake up y/n on her period. i didn't think they meant it literally when they were afraid they weren't gonna come back." nat paces around the kitchen and wanda watches in amusement. it had been almost a whole hour since bucky was sent to get you and thirty minutes since steve was sent to do so too and both men hadn't returned with you for lunch.

"do you really think y/n/n is having a temper tantrum or something and those idiots are caught in the middle of it?" nat asks and wanda shook her head. "i doubt. y/n can get a little cranky but only if provoked. y/n on her period is overall a sweetheart like she always is. maybe steve was being annoying this morning. i mean, he always is annoying during morning jogs because he always has to announce when he overtakes us." wanda rolls her eyes at the fact.

"okay, you know what? come with me to get them. i mean with our joint forces, there's no way we're going to get sucked into whatever those idiots did. let's go,"

nat didn't give the younger woman a chance to reply before she's storming upstairs to your room and wanda had no choice but to rush along.

-

"well? are we going to wake them up or what?" wanda asks nat, not taking her eyes off the adorable sight she was met with right as she entered your room.

"i want to get mad at steve and bucky for not waking her up because she hasn't eaten yet but somehow i can't." nat states, looking like she's having an existential crisis.

"well, no lunch for these three, i guess. they better have dinner though or i'm actually going to get mad. let's go, wands." nat closes your door, but not before snapping a pic of you three cuddled up and sending it to the group chat.

nat: [attached photo]

peter: OMG SHE LOOKS SO TINY AND ADORABLE SQUISHED IN BETWEEN THOSE TWO 🥺🥺🥺

tony: IS THAT SAFE? CAN MY BABY EVEN BREATHE PROPERLY?????? NAT WHY ARE YOU JUST LETTING IT HAPPEN

wanda: stark, she's fine

thor: aw, i hope lady y/n gets all the rest she needs. she looks peaceful 🥰

clint: wait no fair i wanna cuddle her too 🥺😭

sam: dang it does this mean i still can't have bucky's snacks

bucky: stay away from my snacks.

-

"look who finally decided to show." you hear tony tease when you finally came down to dinner.

after waking up an hour prior, you woke up the two super-soldiers sandwiching you by pushing them off your bed. they couldn't even be mad at you when you had burst out in contagious laughter at your own stunt, before leaving to let you wash up.

"how are you feeling, sweetie?" bruce asks you as you sat in between him and tony on the dining table. "i'm good, bruce, why do you ask?"

"we've been hearin' a lot about you today, cupcake." tony winks at you before continuing to eat his food. you pout at him. "bad things?"

"no, no, no, not bad things, never bad things. you're the sweetest little cupcake and everyone loves you. now eat your food," tony pretends to make an angry face at you and you listen to him, smiling as you do so.

after dinner, you decided to lounge in the common room for a bit to watch tv and thor, clint, wanda and sam decide to join you.

"what are we watching?" sam asks as he plops down next to you on the couch. "i don't know, i'm kinda in the mood to watch my little pony." you quipped happily. "my little pony? that stupid ponies cartoon where the purple unicorn has magic and becomes a princess?"

"it's not stupid," you muttered under your breath, suddenly getting upset that he thought my little pony was stupid. "if you guys don't want to watch, i guess we can watch whatever you want." you told the rest who were already seated, a sad expression on your face.

"bubs! of course we want to watch it! right, sam?" wanda glares at sam as she asked him through gritted teeth. "y–yes! yes, we'll watch my little pony!" he replies quickly. "okay!" you cheer, leaning back against the couch as you turned the show on.

after an episode was done, you seemed to have gotten the others hooked on it because they asked for another episode. well, except for sam because he decided one episode was enough and it was time to sleep so he left.

"okay," you giggled, happy that they liked the show. "but i'm going to go get my snacks first." you walked to the kitchen to quickly get your bag of pretzels from the pantry. you were pretty sure it was the period moodswings that were causing your emotions to be all over the place because you cried. you cried because you were so excited to go get your snacks, only to find that it had been stolen.

you trudged back into the living room with a tear-stained face and wanda immediately stands up. "bubs, what's wrong?" she held both your shoulders as she looked down at you. you hiccup. "i–i think pete took my pretzel sticks." you pouted to try keep the incoming tears at bay but they managed to drop anyways.

"i'll kill him," clint stands up, hands held out in a fighting stance. "how dare he steal y/n/n's snacks." wanda rolls her eyes at his antics and gives him a look that tells him to back down.

"lady y/n," thor calls from his spot on the couch. you turn to him. "i have a stash of poptarts if you want?" he offered and as kind as his intentions were, you only wanted your pretzel sticks. you dropped down to the floor, staring silently into nothing.

"y/n," clint places a hand on your shoulder, trying to get you to get up but you didn't. you looked up at him with a small pout and glossy eyes and he cracked. "alright, thor, come with me to the grocery store. we're getting y/n/n's snacks,"

thor immediately gets up, following clint out the door. you couldn't believe that the avengers' own archer and god of thunder were willing to go out just to buy you snacks.

twenty minutes later, they came back with bags of different snacks but most importantly, your pretzel sticks. you ran to them, giving them the biggest hug you could give, prompting chuckles and hair ruffles from them. "anything for you, kiddo."

despite having just gotten your snack, you fell asleep ten minutes into the next episode and thor goes to carry you back to your room. he sets you down gently on your bed, pulling your blanket up so that you were warm.

"sleep well, lady y/n." he kisses the side of your head before leaving. and sleep well you did because you had an awesome family take care of you.

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