#well. actually. did y'all still have to kneel. cause Fuck having to kneel in a pew

[vulpinesaint]

so glad i was raised catholic. i don't know what i would do with myself if i was raised protestant. try and appropriate catholic iconography and feel really bad about it probably.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

self-help

y'all liked my first fic, so here is another!

TW: Blood and injury; wound descriptions

------------------------

“Are you all alright?” Alcina asked, looking over each of the three creatures assembled in front of her. The blonde was slightly roughed up, but still stood up tall; the brunette bore a particularly nasty cut across her cheek, though it didn’t seem to bother her; and the redhead was slathered in man blood from getting to kill the intruder that had foolishly entered their castle and tried to murder them.

“Yes, Mother,” the blonde said, always quick to answer Alcina.

Alcina nodded. She looked at her other two daughters. “And you two?”

“I’m okay,” the redhead chirped. She seemed delighted to have killed something that day.

The brunette lightly touched the cut on her cheek, winced, then nodded, “I’m fine. It isn’t that bad.”

“We should still make sure any of that man-thing’s filth didn’t get into you,” Alcina said. She opened an arm and began guiding her middle child down one of the hallways. “Daniela, do what you will with the body. You’ve earned it.”

The redhead perked up, beaming, and bounded down a different hallway to where the corpse of the man had been left. Once she was gone, only the blonde was left behind in the foyer, and the girl instantly doubled over with a moan of pain, holding her stomach.

“Fuck,” Bela hissed. She was lucky for the dark material of her dress or else the blood seeping through the fabric would have easily been seen by her mother and sisters, and worrying them was the last thing she wanted. It was her own fault that she was shot. There were better things for them to focus on, anyway. Like Cassandra’s cut! Yes, that was definitely more important. She didn’t need any help.

Bela stepped forward and immediately crumpled to her knees when a spasm of pain rippled through her stomach. She bit down firmly to keep from crying out and tasted blood when her teeth pierced her tongue. Usually, the metallic tang would be rather appetizing, but something about it right now made her guts churn and twist up into knots, which definitely didn’t help her discomfort.

Kneeling, still holding her stomach, Bela rocked back and forth while taking several calming breaths. Breathing deeply furthered the strain in her stomach, while not breathing at all just made her chest hurt- she couldn’t win. All she could do was grit her teeth and bear with it like she did with everything. Don’t be a burden, don’t be a burden.

“Lady Bela?”

Bela looked up. A wiry, ash brown-haired maid was lingering at the opening of one of the cavernous hallways, shifting on her feet. Her dark amber eyes displayed nervousness, curiosity, and worry. The last emotion wasn’t an uncommon thing to see, at least towards Bela. Because of her general politeness to the castle workers, they tended to show more concern over her. The perks of not killing them for no reason, she supposed.

“Yes?” Bela said, forcing her voice to stay level and not quaver beneath the fiery edge of her own agony. She didn’t want to cause a scene, but she especially didn’t want to cause a scene in front of a maid. That was almost as bad as her sisters seeing her in such a state--though, for what it was worth, the maids wouldn’t tease her endlessly.

“Are you alright?” the maid asked, taking a small step forward. She was looking Bela up and down, most likely searching for any wounds, and Bela once again thanked Mother Miranda for black fabric.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Bela answered. At the same moment, however, a second wave of pain roared through her and her vision was suddenly spotted by black snow. Did someone open the window? And how long had snow been black? None of her books ever said anything about this…

“Lady Bela?”

Bela blinked harshly, and the storm disappeared. No windows were open. Snow was not black. The maid got closer.

“Ahh--” Bela swallowed hard. “Yes?”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” The maid seemed to be trying to hold herself together. She was probably fearing for her own life if something happened to one of Lady Dimitrescu’s daughters under her watch. Bela would prefer to not have this one die, as she was nice enough to actually check on her instead of ignoring the situation like other maids would, even if Bela denied her physical state when she asked how she was.

“Yes, yes,” Bela said, nodding. “I’m alright. Just…stomach cramps?”

The maid blinked. “Do you even go through a menstrual cycle?”

Bela splayed her fingers open with a shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

The maid actually laughed, which was a rare thing to happen. But the laughter was quickly cut off when her eyes focused on something, clouding over with concern, and Bela realized she was staring at her hands.

There was blood on her hands.

Her blood.

Bela balled her fists and cleared her throat. She looked up at the maid. “Go.”

The maid opened her mouth, but thought against whatever she was planning on saying, not wanting to test Bela’s civility--not that Bela would have hurt her if she had stuck around to speak whatever was on her mind. She dipped her head and scurried off, glancing over her shoulder as she went.

Bela sighed. She wiped her hands on a part of her dress that wasn’t damp. She needed to do something about her problem before her mother or one of her sisters found out.

Standing up was difficult, and Bela was sure Cassandra or Daniela, most likely both, would have teased her if they saw her like this. When she began to walk, she felt blood slither in slow trails down her legs, itching her skin. She fought the urge to scratch until she made it to the privacy of her bedroom, then instantly began shredding her dress with her claws, throwing the tatters of wet fabric to the floor to be picked up later. Once the gown was off, she turned to her mirror to inspect the damage.

Red. The entire front of her body was smeared in red. And beneath the red, there were holes, some as small as her pinky, some as big as a coin, each even darker than the blood and packed full of shrapnel.

Bela had been a fool to go after the man-thing on her own. As reckless and wild as Cassandra and Daniela were with their fighting, they were strong, much stronger than she was. She had seen them withstand vicious stabs and strikes and shots that would have killed any normal person and keep slashing their claws as if nothing had happened, but it took a blast from a shotgun to put her down. She was so blinded by the idea of killing the intruder to impress her mother that she didn’t even think to create an actual plan until she became well-acquainted with leaden bullet chunks against her midsection.

The buckshot was evenly spread out along her abdomen, and maybe it could have passed as paint splattered all over her body if it wasn’t for the malevolent grey peeking out from liquid red. There was a particularly large cluster of holes on her left side, where an entire chunk of meat had been blown free from her waist, but they reached all the way over to her navel and up to the underside of her chest. The bullet pieces were the seeds of her agony, and she desperately needed to reap them from her flesh.

Bela began rummaging through one of her drawers, straining the lead lodged in her skin, and pulled out an old cotton gown she hadn’t worn in years. She walked over to the rocking chair in the corner near the window and sat down. She loved this chair, and it was a shame that it was going to be bled all over, but wood was easier to clean than cloth. She didn’t want to risk staining her bed right now.

Biting down on the gown, Bela began going over the buckshot. There were eighteen holes in total, all of them full of lead. She nearly miscounted a few times because she thought some of them were empty, but then realized the bullets were just buried in her tissue. There was one in particular that she didn’t even see, but could feel shifting around beneath her flesh like a hungry maggot. It made her stomach roil in disgust.

This was not going to be fun.

Bela’s hands were shaking as she brought them down to her stomach. Simply brushing the skin sent waves of torture shivering through her nerves, and she didn’t even want to think about what it was going to feel like to actually remove the slugs, but she didn’t have much of a choice. She couldn’t just leave them inside of her.

Taking a deep breath and biting down hard on the gown, Bela stuck her pointer finger and thumb into one of the holes. Instantly, her vision flashed black, then red, and then white, and she was sure she had passed out for a few eternal seconds. Even when she pried her eyes back open, all she saw was a messy mishmash of swirling colors, and she wondered if she had somehow gone blind. But then sight slowly oozed back to her, and she was able to see the grotesque image of her fingers stretching the edges of a bullet hole.

She swallowed down acidic bile and grasped the sides of the piece of lead.

For a moment, the stubborn little thing didn’t want to come out, and Bela began to fear that it was just a part of her now, forever fused with her flesh, burrowed within her like a leaden parasite, but then it popped out with a small spew of blood and she was able to catch her breath. She dropped the ball, which was no bigger than her pinky finger, and watched it bounce across the floor before rolling beneath her bed. She would get it later. Right now, she had its stupid siblings to deal with.

Breathing in deeply again, clamping down on the gown like before, Bela dug her fingers into a second hole that looked easy enough to scoop out. And it was, surprisingly. The blood proved to be a helpful lubricant and the bullet slid right out when she tugged, not bothering to put up a fight. She peered at it for a moment, squinting her watery eyes.

“You are an asshole,” she spat.

The bullet winked at her in response, the bright red blood coating its surface catching on the light inside the room and making it twinkle like a ruby. She flicked it away, and it left a line of crimson across her polished floors. She would clean that up later, too.

Third time’s a charm. Bela prepared herself again, breathing in and biting down, and dove into the next hole.

She didn’t know why she thought the process of pulling out bullets would suddenly be easier just because she succeeded with the first two. She was an idiot when she had gotten shot and she was an idiot now, trying to rid herself from the consequence of her actions.

Her claws slipped on the slickness of her blood and accidentally pushed the bullet in deeper.

Bela would have screamed if it weren’t for the blood that crawled up her throat, clogging her esophagus. She coughed, thinking that the bullet was going to come out of her mouth, and red splattered across her bare chest, staining her bra. Tears sprang to her eyes and poured down her cheeks. Her shaking hands hovered over the hole, but she couldn’t see the slug anywhere.

“Oh no, no, no, no,” Bela muttered. Did she push it so deep it breached one of her organs? What would happen if it did? How was she going to get it out?

She tried to stretch the edges of the wound, but stopped when she nearly threw up from the pain. She sobbed. What was she going to do? Bela leaned back against the chair, causing it to rock slowly. Maybe she could just leave the bullets inside of her. They probably wouldn’t kill her. She and her sisters were able to endure more than normal creatures could, so it would probably just be very uncomfortable. For the rest of her life.

She swallowed blood and bile. Having to spend the rest of eternity like this didn’t sound very appealing. In fact, it sounded like the complete opposite of appealing. Unappealing.

A sound snapped Bela out of her muddled thoughts; the doorknob was wiggling. Someone was coming into her room.

Lunging forward, nearly slipping on a tiny puddle of her blood, Bela slammed the door shut before it could be opened completely and pressed her weight against it. From the other side, she heard a noise of surprise.

“Bela? What is the meaning of this?”

Her heart sank into her bullet-infested insides. It was her mother. She just slammed the door in her mother’s face. Oh, she was in for it now.

Bela nearly opened up right then and there and got down on her knees to apologize, but one glance down at her horribly-scathed body made her think better of it. She had told Alcina that she was fine, and now she needed to live up to it, even if she felt like she was being swarmed and eaten by her own insects. She had to swallow down her hopeless devotion to her mother to keep her from worrying over her.

“Sorry,” Bela said, hoping her voice wasn’t wavering as much as she thought it was. “I, uhh-- I thought you were Cassandra or Daniela. They always barge into my room without knocking. I don’t appreciate it very much.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie, but she still didn’t feel good about making up an excuse.

From out in the hallway, Alcina was quiet for a moment, and Bela wondered if she was going to break down the door and let herself in. But then she chuckled and said, “I see. I remember the time you tried to set traps for them when they kept interrupting your reading time.”

Bela laughed, which morphed into a groan of pain when her stomach strained. SHe masked it with a cough, then replied, “They were good traps!”

“Darling, you set up a board full of nails for them to step on.”

“My point still stands.”

“And a tripwire that would trigger a pot to swing into their face and knock them out.”

“You got to admit that it was pretty impressive that I was able to make that.”

Alcina chuckled again. “Yes, you have always been my most resourceful little one.”

Bela’s chest warmed with pride. The praise momentarily made her forget about the pain she was in.

“Now, can you let me in? I need to talk to you.”

And like that, the pain was back, the soothing warmth chased off by icy cold dread. Did her mother know? Did that maid snitch on her? She swallowed thickly.

“Umm-- can’t we just talk like this? It’s just as effective.”

“I would prefer it if I was able to see you when I speak to you,” Alcina said. She paused for a moment. “Why can’t I come in?”

“I’m-- I’m naked.”

Also wasn’t a lie, technically.

Alcina was quiet for a moment.

“Bela, I watched you come out of a mass of insects as naked as a babe. I do not think there’s anything left to be seen that I don’t know about already.”

You’d be surprised, Bela thought, looking down at her marred form.

“It’s-- it’s just embarrassing for me!”

Alcina sighed. “Then why don’t you put some clothes on?”

Realizing she wasn’t going to get out of this conversation, Bela said, “Right! Okay!” And then began scrambling for something to wear. The exertion made the two empty bullet holes pucker like hungry mouths and drool out even more blood that drizzled down her legs like snakes. She didn’t have time to clean herself up, so she just threw on the first gown she could reach in one of her drawers--a dark blue one she had sewn herself--wiped her hands off, kicked the tattered black dress under the bed, and smeared the blood on the floor until it couldn’t be seen against the hardwood. Then, she put on the most believable, while also innocent expression of normalcy and opened her door.

“My lady,” she said with a wide sweeping motion of her arm, trying to be funny, trying to hide the fact that she was in immense pain and simply being on her feet made her lightheaded, trying not to worry her mother.

Alcina didn’t laugh at her joke. She seemed rather suspicious as she ducked into the room--not that Bela really blamed her. She was definitely being very suspicious.

“What did you want to talk about?” Bela asked, looking up at her mother.

Alcina looked around her room, but Bela had been smart enough to clean the floors. Not well, but they were clean. When she found nothing, she studied Bela, and Bela held herself as she usually did--maybe a bit too formally.

“I just wanted to check on you all after the attack,” Alcina finally answered, meeting her eyes. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, Mother,” Bela said, and she hated lying to Alcina, but she didn’t have a choice. She hated being a burden even more and that was all she was going to be if Alcina found out about her wounds.

“Are you sure?” Alcina narrowed her eyes at her.

“Yes, Mother,” Bela repeated. Then, trying to change the subject, she asked, “How is Cassandra?”

“She’s okay,” Alcina answered. “She will heal. The cut wasn’t very deep.”

“And Daniela?”

“Feasting. I wouldn’t go near her if I were you. She may just maim you and add you to her meal.” A smile came to Alcina’s lips, and Bela let herself laugh.

Unfortunately, that laughter quickly turned to coughing as her body seized with pain. She tasted blood as the bullets seemed to rattle within her, flesh clenching down around lead. She wiped her mouth before pulling her hand away.

“I wouldn’t put it past her.”

Alcina didn’t respond for a moment. Her entire face was knitted with great concern, and Bela already felt bad for worrying her.

“Bela, are you sure you are alright?”

For a fourth time that day: “Yes, Mother.”

Alcina wasn’t going to let it go that easily, it seemed, because she questioned further: “Have you caught a chill?” She walked over and pressed a hand to Bela’s forehead. Bela couldn’t help but lean into it, always eager to be touched by her mother. “You shouldn’t be coughing like that.”

“I just had a tickle in my throat.”

“I don’t like being lied to, Bela.”

Bela’s resolve nearly broke beneath her mother’s stern gaze, but she kept her facade from falling through sheer willpower alone. She said, “I’m not.”

Alcina’s eyes narrowed. She pulled her hand back and went to say something when she appeared to slip on something. Steadying herself, she looked down at the ground, and Bela’s breath caught in her throat when she realized what exactly her mother had staggered on.

Alcina bent over and picked up the buckshot.

Bela didn’t let her panic show on her face as Alcina examined the tiny lead ball. Its siblings, still lodged deep in her stomach, seemed to giggle at the predicament she was ensnared in when a fresh bout of pain quivered through her nerves. She stayed calm as flashing yellow eyes slid back over to her.

“Bela,” Alcina said slowly, and Bela already didn’t like the tone she was using. “What is this?”

Bela considered playing dumb, but then she remembered that she was the smart, bookish one. She could use her multitude of knowledge as an excuse.

“That’s buckshot, Mother. It comes from a shotgun. Did you know that they have enough firepower to blow a head off? It’s because it has several bullets in one shot instead of a singular one, which means more power behind each blast.”

Alcina held a hand up and Bela instantly shut her mouth.

“Why do you have it?” Alcina asked.

“I was studying it,” Bela answered. It was believable enough. It did sound like something she would do, but Alcina didn’t seem very convinced.

“Your blood is on this, Bela,” Alcina said. “Why is your blood on this bullet?”

“I-- I--” Bela’s act was beginning to crumble.

Alcina turned to her completely, clenching the buckshot in her fist. “Were you shot?”

“Mother, I--”

“Were you shot?”

“Yes,” Bela blurted, unable to hide it anymore. “But-- but it isn’t that--”

“Show me.”

“Wh-what?”

“Bela Dimitrescu, show me where you are hurt. Now.”

Flinching at her mother’s severe tone, Bela removed her dress and revealed the mess on her stomach and chest. When she heard Alcina gasp, she quickly said, “It isn’t that bad. You don’t have to worry about me, Mother. I can take care of it.”

“You fool!” Alcina exploded, and Bela flinched away. “What were you thinking?! Why would you hide this from me?!”

“I-- I thought I could--” Bela was having a hard time collecting her words. If there was one thing she really hated, it was when people raised their voices, even if it wasn’t directed towards her. When Cassandra and Daniela would get into fights, she always left the room and got as far away as possible so she wouldn’t have to hear them yelling. But, as bad as their shouting was, it was nothing compared to their mother when she was worked up.

“I--”

“I asked you if you were alright!” Alcina roared on. “If you were okay! You said you were! And then I come in here and find you with bullets in your flesh?!” She shook her head, nearly dislodging her hat from her head. “What do you have to say for yourself, Bela?”

Personally? Bela really wished they weren’t having this conversation when she didn’t have a shirt on.

Dipping her head shamefully, the only thing that Bela could manage was a pathetic, “I’m sorry, Mother.”

“Why can’t you just let me help you for once?”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you,” Bela confessed. “Or worry you.”

Alcina sighed and rubbed her face slowly. “Bela, I am more worried and disappointed because you hid this from me.”

Bela could only squeak out a feeble, “Oh.”

Alcina knelt down in front of her and lifted her chin. “Honey, why would I be disappointed in you for coming to me for help?”

Bela couldn’t meet her mother’s eyes. “Because-- because I got hurt. And I shouldn’t have. I’m a shitty fighter and got shot and I should have been stronger.”

“Your strength has nothing to do with this,” Alcina said. “Cassandra got hurt too, you know.”

“Cassandra probably didn’t care.”

“I beg to differ. You should have seen her while I was rubbing honey into her wound. She was wiggling around like a little worm!”

Bela laughed slightly, then whimpered immediately after. Alcina glanced at her bullet-filled body, then cupped her cheeks.

“Do you know what I would have done if you had died from these wounds?”

Bela tried not to look at her.

“I would have done everything in my power to get you back to me. I would tear down the sun and moon for you, my darling.” There was so much love in Alcina’s words, so much tenderness and care. Bela was drawn to it. “Please tell me you will come to me next time something happens. I cannot fathom the thought of you being in any more pain.”

Whether or not she actually would when the time came, Bela nodded. Alcina smiled at her warmly and placed a kiss against her forehead.

“That’s my good girl,” she said. “Now…” Her eyes slid down to the bullet wounds. “To handle this.”

“I tried to get them out myself,” Bela said. “I promise I tried. I got two out, but then-- but I couldn’t--”

“Shh,” Alcina stroked her hair. “You tried. That’s all that matters. But I am so proud of you, darling. It must not have been easy.”

Bela shook her head with a whimper.

“Alright,” Alcina stood up straight. “Come on. Lay on your bed. We need to get those little devils out of you.”

Bela didn’t disobey. She had already disobeyed enough for one day. She crawled onto her bed, whimpering each time her body bent in a way the bullets disagreed with. They felt like festering parasites inside her stomach. She was lightheaded.

“Mama,” she moaned. She was the last to stop calling Alcina such a thing. Cassandra was first, then Daniela, and when they both heard her still referring to their mother in that way, they teased her. While it had been done playfully, it was still enough to embarrass Bela and get her to stop to avoid risking further humiliation. But now she didn’t even care. She was far too uncomfortable to care about anything her sisters had to say.

“Mama…”

Alcina caressed the side of her face. “I’m right here, baby. Lay back for me.

Bela, as loyal as a hound, did as she was told. Her head rested against one of her fluffy pillows, but it did little to stop the room from spinning like a top. She looked over at Alcina anxiously, but her mother had an expression of focus and calm.

“Alright, my dove,” Alcina said, cupping one of her clammy, pallid cheeks. “I need you to lay as still as possible for me. Do you think you can do that?”

Bela nodded feebly.

“Very good. I’m going to start now, alright? Just stay still and breathe. I’ll work as quickly as I can.”

Another nod.

“Here I go.”

Even with the warning, Bela’s body still jolted when she felt the sharp stab of her mother’s claws against one of the bullet holes. Her eyes snapped open, but she was blind for several seconds before details bled back into awareness. To her own credit, she managed to keep from crying out, but only because she clenched her jaw so hard she chipped one of her fangs. Cassandra and Danieal were definitely going to tease her over that later, but it was the least of her problems at the moment.

The third bullet slid out with relative ease, lubricated by her blood, and, Mother Miranda, she was only just realizing she had fifteen more to go.

“One down,” Alcina said, flicking the buckshot to the floor. She lifted Bela’s chin to examine her broken tooth. “Hmm. It’ll grow back, don’t worry. It didn’t chip that much.”

“I was using a gown,” Bela said, her words coming out wheezy and weak. “To bite down on.” She pointed to the dress left on the rocking chair. “Can I use it again?”

Alcina followed her hand, spotting the bundle of fabric. “Oh, clever girl!” she praised, rubbing Bela’s head. She picked up the gown and gave it to Bela. “As I said before: you are my bright little daughter.”

Bela smiled shyly before biting down on the gown. She gave her mother an affirmative look to begin again.

The next three bullets went out smoothly--or as smoothly as little masses of lead wedged in sensitive tissue and muscle could be. But then Alcina got to one of the deeper slugs and it didn’t come out when tugged on, causing Bela to cry out and jerk away.

“Breathe, darling,” Alcina said, settling her back on her back when she tried to roll over. “Breathe. It’s alright. This one is a little deeper. A lot of them are going to be, but I need you to stay still and stay calm for me. Can you do that?”

“I-- I don’t know,” Bela said honestly.

Alcina frowned. She stroked her face, wiping away tears. “I know you can. You’re strong, Bela, regardless of what you think. And just know that I am so proud of you.”

Bela reached up to grab her mother’s hand. She pressed into the warm palm like a kitten seeking heat in the middle of a winter storm. Finally, she relented, “Okay.”

“Thank you, darling,” Alcina crooned. She went to return to her work, but Bela didn’t release her hand. “I need you to let me go, Bela.”

Bela was unwilling to part with the warmth, so Alcina did it herself, easily peeling her fingers away. She touched her cheek tenderly for a moment before saying, “Bite down and breathe, baby. I’m starting again.”

Bela did as she was told, grinding her teeth into the gown as claws returned to her sore stomach. She flinched, but didn’t try to squirm away again, grounding herself by grasping handfuls of the sheets beneath her.

Seven, eight, nine, ten… Alcina worked diligently, expertly removing the buckshot from Bela’s body. When she got to the eleventh one and it proved to be rather reluctant to leave its host, she stopped for a moment to give Bela time to breathe and prepare herself.

“You’re doing so good,” Alcina cooed, stroking Bela’s hair, which was wet with cold sweat. Bela had started to tremble at some point, though she didn’t exactly know when, but she hoped it wasn’t making the bullet removal harder than it already was.

“Mama,” Bela mewled. “It hurts…”

“I know,” Alcina hushed her. “I know. I’m almost done. Just eight more to go.”

“Hurry-- hurry--” Bela panted.

“Are you sure? You can wait a moment longer to catch your breath.”

Bela shook her head. “Please.”

Alcina pursed her lips, then nodded. “Alright. Here I go.”

Bela braced herself.

“Eleven…”

Bela breathed.

“Twelve…”

Bela bit down.

“Thirteen…”

Bela--

Bela screamed.

Bela screamed because the fourteenth bullet was buried deep within her flesh, burrowed in her warmth like a maggot in a corpse. She kicked out her legs and tried to yell for Alcina to stop, but blood mixed with bile lurched up the back of her throat and her mouth was clogged with fluids. Alcina ripped out the pellet with enough force to slit the edges of the hole with her claws, threw it to the floor, and then lifted Bela’s head so she wouldn’t inhale her own blood and choke. Bela coughed, staining her chest in a fresh layer of red.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry--”

“Shh,” Alcina stroked her thumb with her cheek. “Nothing to apologize for, darling. You’re doing very well. We’re so close to finishing.”

Bela looked at her, breathing heavily, her throat thick with blood. She didn’t know what to say, so she just nodded weakly. Alcina set her head back down on the pillow.

“Here we go, my sweet. Just a little longer.”

But Bela wasn’t able to handle it when the fifteenth was removed. She grabbed her mother by the wrist when she reached for the sixteenth one, clinging tightly.

“No more, no more--” Bela begged.

Alcina frowned. “I have to get them out, baby. You’re so close.”

Bela shook her head. “No, no-- can’t we-- can’t we just leave them in?”

“Bela. You’re smarter than that. You know we can’t.”

“But-- but it hurts,” Bela wept. “I can’t-- I can’t take it anymore. Please, Mama. Please just stop .”

Above her, Alcina looked incredibly worried. She ran her bloody claws through Bela’s hair, soothing her.

“I have to,” Alcina said. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

Bela sobbed, but didn’t stop her.

With a cruel yank, the sixteenth bullet dislodged with a spit of blood. Bela shredded the sheets beneath her.

The seventeenth took some digging, with her mother stretching the tender edges of the hole with one hand, picking out flesh with the other. She nearly threw up at the disgusting squelching sounds that filled the air, but managed to save herself from the humiliation by swallowing hard.

The eighteenth, the one she had accidentally pushed in deeper, was the worst. It was like having a hot knife thrust into her soft stomach over and over again. She shivered with pain and blood loss as she felt the bullet being tugged on in her ragged flesh. It was a sickening friction of skin sucking against the force of her mother’s claws. She didn’t even know if it came out fully because her eyes rolled to the back of her head and everything went black.

——— ——— ———

Wiping her claws of blood, Alcina frowned down at her eldest daughter. Bela was unconscious. It seemed the pain was finally too much for her little body. Though, she made it all the way to the end. Alcina was expecting her to pass out a lot sooner.

And she said she wasn’t strong.

Scooping her up into her arms, Alcina carried Bela to her bedroom, telling a maid to clean up the bloody mess left behind. Once inside her chambers, she ran Bela a hot bath, washing her of all the blood that stained her body. The warm water seemed to rouse her daughter because shiny amber eyes peeked out from under heavy eyelids as she was cleaning out her hair.

“Mama,” Bela breathed out.

Alcina smiled at her lovingly. “Hello, my sweet.”

Bela looked around sluggishly. She seemed dazed. “I’m… huh?”

“You passed out,” Alcina informed her.

“The buckshot…?”

“All out,” Alcina reached out to caress her cheek. “It’s over. You did it. I’m so proud of you, baby girl.”

Bela, always wanting affection, pressed into her hand. “Finally…”

Alcina chuckled. “I’m just going to finish washing all this blood off and then you can lay back down. You need lots of rest to heal.”

“Can you…?”

Alcina smiled again. Her heart swelled with adoration and love towards her daughter.

“Yes, I will lay with you.”

Bela had definitely earned it.

[elliesguitarstrings]

promises, promises || part one: what used to be

masterlist || series masterlist

tom holland x reader

summary: you're crying over someone you haven't seen in two years, tom is straight up depressed, your friends are trying to set you up, and sam is just trying his best to help

warnings: ANGST, language, mentions of sex, little bit of fluff, probably typos

A/N: PART ONE IS HERE!!!! i absolutely love this fic and i hope you guys love it as much as i do :)

p.s. this ended up being really long sooooo i decided to make it into a series instead lol if y'all haven't figured that out

wc: 5k

~~~~~~~~

"I got the part! Holy shit I actually got the part!" Tom throws his computer across the bed in disbelief, almost hitting you.

"Wait, like THE part? Like Spiderman?" you question excitedly.

"YES!!! Check the Marvel Instagram right now!" he crawls over to you as you whip out your phone and quickly search up the account. You scan the page to see a post captioned, "Click the link in our bio to see who the new Spider-Man is!" You quickly find the link and impatiently wait for the page to load. And then you see it, boldface print and giant letters across your phone.

The new Marvel Cinematic Universe Spider-Man will be played by: TOM HOLLAND

"HOLY SHIT TOM! You're fucking Spiderman!" you tackle him with a hug, squeezing him so tightly that he has to fight for breath. "I'm so proud of you, I knew you were gonna do big things." you smile brightly.

"We have to go tell everyone else, come on!" Tom pulls you off of him, dragging you out of his bedroom and down the stairs to give his family the big news.

The rest of the Hollands were already together in the family room, and they immediately took notice of yours and Tom's excitement as the two of you are bounding down the stairs.

Out of breath, Tom sprints to the center of the room. "Attention everyone, I have an extremely important announcement to make!" He pauses for dramatic effect, his family waiting in anticipation. "I'M GONNA BE SPIDERMAN!"

This causes an outburst of cheers and applause from his parents and brothers, each one of them getting up to hug Tom and congratulate him on this huge achievement.

Paddy pipes up, "How did you get the news? Did they call you or something?"

"Um, not exactly. They posted it on their Instagram and on the Marvel website as well, wanna see?" He turns to you, "Y/N, show them your phone!"

You pull out your phone and open the screen you were just looking at, showing the Hollands the Instagram post and article.

"No way, they're totally hacked." Harry remarks, earning disapproving looks from Nikki and Dom. "if you were really gonna be the next Spiderman, they would have called you."

Before Tom has the time to argue back, his phone rings, as if on cue. Tom pulls it out of his back pocket and nervously studies the number across the screen.

"Well, what are you waiting for div, answer it!" Sam chirps impatiently.

The rest of the room is silent while Tom listens intently to the person the other line. You can't make out what they are saying, but the eventual smile on Tom's face completely gives it away.

"Yes, thank you. Thank you so much for this opportunity," he holds while the other person talks again. "Yeah, I'll be in touch, definitely. Thank you again." Tom ends the call and lets out a sigh of relief. "That was fucking Kevin Feige! I got the part! I actually am gonna be the next Spiderman!"

You and the rest of his family cheered even louder than before, enveloping him in a giant group hug.

"I say we celebrate!" Nikki announces. "How about we go out for a nice dinner?"

Tom smiles, "If I'm honest mum, as nice as that would be, I'd rather just stay in and celebrate here tonight. I like your cooking better than any fancy restaurant anyways."

"Of course honey, I'll make your favorite. We can have a nice big family dinner, how does that sound?"

"Sounds perfect mum, thank you."

She dashes into the kitchen followed by Sam, the aspiring chef of the family, while Dom, Harry, and Paddy go to dress the table.

You take this as your cue to leave, seeing as you don't want to disrupt the rest of Tom's night with his family. "I guess I should get going then," you turn to Tom, hugging him once again. "Congratulations again, I'm so proud of you Tommy." you smile as you head to grab your things before you leave.

"Nonsense! You're staying for dinner too!" Tom stops you.

"Tom, I can't, you should spend this night celebrating with your family." you try to reason with him.

"But I want you here too!" he pouts.

"And you are family!" Nikki pipes in from the kitchen, earning nods of agreement from the rest of the family.

"See, everyone wants you here Y/N, please celebrate with us?" Tom cups your face.

"Are you sure? I really don't want to-"

Nikki cuts you off, piping in once again, "Y/N, I insist you stay for dinner with us. You've been a part of this family for so long, and you know that. So please stay and celebrate with us!" she smiles.

You giggle, "Well, I guess I can't say no to that." Tom smiles, giddily engulfing you in another hug.

After a long and delicious dinner, you and Tom now lay under the stars in the treehouse in his backyard. Dom had built it for you two when you were eight years old, and it's been your special place ever since then. Obviously, it has been upgraded and redecorated since then, now that you and Tom were both eighteen, but it still takes you back to the old days when you were just carefree little kids.

You cuddle into Tom's chest, looking up at the night sky through the small window in the roof of the treehouse. "I wish we could stay here forever," you whisper.

"Me too." Tom pulls you closer, kissing your forehead.

"Everything's gonna change you know. We're graduating in two weeks, and then you leave for America. I don't know what I'm gonna do without you." A small tear rolls down your cheek which doesn't go unnoticed by Tom.

He wipes the tear off your face with his thumb, cupping your chin to make you face him. "Hey, hey, look at me. Things might be changing, but that doesn't mean we have to. I'm only gonna be gone for a few months, and then I'll be back. I love you so much, and a few hundred miles is never going to change that. I will never let anything come between us, ever, okay?"

You smile softly, "You promise?"

"I promise darling. It's you and me forever. I'm never letting you go. Never in a million years." he kisses you lovingly, and you swear you could just live in this moment forever with him, and only him.

That was six years ago. And what Tom said was true, everything had changed. You just wish everything else he had said that night was true too.

Now, Tom is a world-famous actor, living a luxurious life out in Hollywood. You, however, have stayed in England, living only thirty minutes away from your childhood home with your newfound best friends Julia and Finn. You are no longer a part of Tom's life, and he is no longer a part of yours. But that doesn't mean you've forgotten about him.

How could you possibly forget about Tom? Your entire childhood was spent with him. From the ages of two to twenty-two, you were inseparable. To this day, you still remember when you first met, and you think about it often.

"I no wanna go! I stay home and watch princesses!" you cry, defiantly pulling away from your mother's firm grip as she tries to stuff you into shoes that are much too small for your rapidly growing feet.

"I know honey, but we have to go welcome the new neighbors who just moved in across the street. We made them brownies, remember?" she smiles.

You scrunch your face up, " No! I stay home!"

Your dad chimes in, kneeling down to your level. "Listen peanut. How about we make a deal. You come with us and say hello to the new neighbors, and then after we get home you can watch any princess movie you want and maybe even have some ice cream, how does that sound?"

You smile, "Ice cream with rainbow sprinkles?"

He rubs your head, "With rainbow sprinkles."

"Okay. I go then."

Your parents smile, and you hold their hands as you walk across the street to meet the neighbors. Your mom rings the doorbell, and the door opens to reveal a red-headed woman, smiling at you and your parents. Hiding behind her is a small, curly-headed brunette boy about the same height as you.

Your mom introduces herself, "Hi! My name is Y/M/N, this is my husband Y/D/N, and this is my daughter Y/N. We live right across the street, and we just wanted to welcome you into the neighborhood." She outstretches her arms, holding the brownies, "I made these for you as well, I hope you like them!"

The woman smiles, "Oh, wow, thank you so much, you are so sweet! Would you like to come in for a bit?"

"Of course, as long as you'll have us."

She ushers the three of you in and you stay close to your mom, still wary of entering a stranger's home.

As she closes the door behind her, she introduces herself as well, "Sorry, the house is a little messy, we’re still getting settled in. But I'm Nikki, my husband Dominic is unpacking in the kitchen, and this is Tom." She motions to the boy behind her, "Tom, say hello to the nice people!"

He timidly steps forward, waving at you and your parents. "Hello." he says quietly.

"Oh my, he is adorable!" your mom gushes. She walks over to him, "How old are you Tom?"

He holds up two fingers, "This many."

She smiles, "Two years old? Wow, you're so big! Guess what, you know who else is that many?" Tom shakes his head no. "My daughter Y/N!" She motions for you to come, and you shyly walk forward.

You wave at him, and that makes him smile. Nikki taps Tom on the shoulder, "Do you maybe want to show Y/N your toys upstairs?

He nods his head, smiling at you, "Wanna go play?" he asks.

You smile back, looking at your mom for permission. She nods her head and pushes you forward. "Okay, we go." you respond. He takes your hand and pulls you upstairs, seemingly coming out of his shell. You don't know what it is about this boy, but he makes you feel warm, like a hug. It's something your two-year-old brain can't quite comprehend, but suddenly you couldn't care less about watching princess movies or eating ice cream.

Sometimes you wish that day had never happened, that you had never met him. You wish your little two-year-old self had fought harder against your parents so that you wouldn’t have to endure the years of pain he would cause you later in life. But you can’t go back, and in part, you’re glad about that. He was your first friend, your first crush, and your first love. But he was also your first heartbreak, and that’s something you can never forget.

You're snapped out of your thoughts by a sharp knock on your bedroom door. "Hey, are you almost ready? We have to leave in ten or we'll be late!" you hear Julia's muffled voice from the other side of the door. Finn is hosting a gala tonight for his art studio, and being his best friends and roommates, you and Julia are basically required to go.

"Uh, yeah, I'm about done, I'll be out in a minute!" You haven't even started getting ready, but you don't have any more time. You quickly raid your closet and find a short v-neck black dress and matching heels. You wiggle into the dress as you make your way into the bathroom. You had planned on straightening your hair, but you have no time, so instead, you brush it back into a sleek low ponytail and spray it with a bit of hairspray. There's no time for the elaborate makeup look you had planned either, so you quickly throw on some concealer, blush, mascara, eyeliner, a bit of highlight, and you're set. As you walk to the door, you grab your purse and slip on your heels, making sure you have your phone and keys. Finn and Julia are already waiting in the car, both with disapproving looks.

"What the fuck took you so long? We were supposed to leave five minutes ago! You know I can't be late for this thing." Finn complains as you slip into the backseat.

"Sorry, I, uhm, don't feel well. A little nauseous." you lie. You don't feel like telling them that you were actually crying about someone you haven't seen or talked to in two and a half years like you do every other night.

"You're not pregnant are you?" Julia chuckles.

"Oh please, we all know that Y/N hasn't gotten any since he who must not be named." Finn replies for you.

"Thanks Finn, what a great friend." you joke sarcastically.

He's not wrong though. Since you and Tom broke up, you haven’t slept with a single person. You’ve been on a few dates and kissed a few guys, but nothing past that. The closest you got was about a month after Tom broke it off with you. You were looking for someone to take your mind off of him, so you found a random guy named David at a pub and took him back to your place. But as soon as he took off his shirt, you saw a birthmark on his back that looked eerily similar to Tom’s, and you promptly broke down crying.

No matter what you do, you just can’t seem to get him off your mind.

"Alright bitches, we're here." Finn sighs. "Help me bring my stuff in, we don't have much time thanks to someone who took ages to get ready."

You give a halfhearted apology as you grab Finn's paintings from the back of his car. Julia stops you before you follow Finn into the venue, "Babe, are you sure you're doing alright?"

You smile lightly, "Yeah, I'm fine. I'll be fine."

"Okay, if you say so. And sorry about Finn mentioning... him. It's been two years, he should know better."

"Oh, no. No, don't worry about that. It's okay. I don't care." you lie.

She gives you an encouraging nudge on the shoulder, "Hey, who knows, maybe you'll find a hottie here tonight and finally get back out there! What do you think, huh?"

"Yeah, that would be great, actually. Maybe Finn can introduce me to his friend James, I know he's pretty hot." you say just to get her off your back. You know for a fact that you won't be going home with anyone tonight, but you want to ease her conscience, so you continue to lie.

"That's the spirit! Good luck hun, love you."

"Thanks Jules, love you too." you smile.

Halfway through the gala, you already want to go home. Finn is over at the bar flirting with some guy, probably trying to get him to buy his artwork. Meanwhile, Julia has disappeared into the bathroom with her boyfriend Ollie, who she invited about thirty minutes into the event because she "got bored."

You look at your phone and realize it's already midnight, and you know the event won't be ending anytime soon. You slowly make your way over to Finn through the sea of people and tap him on the shoulder, drawing his attention away from whatever guy he's flirting with.

"Hey Y/N, how's it going with James?" he asks excitedly.

"Oh, um, it didn't work out, thanks for introducing me though. I just wanted to come tell you that I'm still not feeling well, so I think I'm gonna head home, sorry."

"Oh, okay, no problem. You're probably gonna be alone tonight though, just a heads up. Jules is going back to Ollie's for the night, and" he starts to whisper, "I think I might be going home with this hunk."

You laugh, "Okay, thanks Finn, see you tomorrow then."

"Bye babe. Do you have a ride?" he questions.

"Uh, no, I'm just gonna Uber home, it's no problem."

Finn gasps, "Not this late at night you're not! Let me drive you, hottie with a body over here can wait."

"No, no, don't let me ruin your night. I'll just call Sam then."

His eyes widen, "Like... his brother Sam?"

"Yeah, we're friends still, it's not a big deal. Trust me."

"Okay, fine. But text me when you get home, okay?"

"Okay, love you Finn, see you later." you give him a quick hug and walk outside to call Sam.

You aren't lying, you and Sam are still good friends. Back when you and Tom were together, Sam was the brother that you were closest to, and you felt that it would be unfair to cut ties with the rest of the Hollands just because Tom was a dick to you seeing as they were as much of a family to you as your own parents were, maybe even more. He was attending culinary school in the area anyway, so you decide he’s the best person to call.

As expected, he's happy to drive you home, and about ten minutes later he arrives at the venue where you are still standing outside.

"Hey Sam, I'm sorry for calling this late, but thank you so much for picking me up." you smile as you slide into the passenger seat.

"It's no problem, I wasn't going to sleep anytime soon. How've you been?"

"Fine, I guess. How about you?"

"C'mon, I know that look. Something's up with you." he pries.

"I told you on the phone, I'm just not feeling well." you lie, hoping he doesn't catch on.

"It's Tom isn't it?"

"How the fuck do you always know?"

He chuckles. "He is my brother, remember? And you're basically my sister too. I've known you both for literally my entire life, so trust me, I know when it's about him."

You sign in defeat, "I don't know why I can't get over him Sam. It's been nearly three years since we broke up, and I haven't seen him since. My roommates think I'm overreacting, and honestly, I'm starting to agree with them. I should be moved on by now, but I just can't stop thinking about him."

"Hey, hey, don't listen to them, you aren't overreacting. You and Tom were literally attached at the hip for twenty two years, and you weren't even dating for most of them. It's completely normal for you to feel like this, trust me. And I know it doesn't help much for me to say this because I've said it a million times before, but Tom's a complete dick for what he did to you. He's my brother, and I love him, but he's a dick."

"Thanks Sam. I just wish I knew why, y'know? Why, after twenty-two fucking years, he just completely cut me out of his life." you feel your eyes brimming with tears.

"I wish I could have an answer for you Y/N, I really do. But I haven't got a clue. Hell, I honestly don't even know if Tom knows why he did it."

You sigh, "Well, he must have had a reason. Plus, he seems to be doing great in Hollywood. He seems perfectly happy without me."

"You've been stalking him on Instagram, haven't you?" Sam chuckles.

You laugh, "Shut up." That's the great thing about Sam. He can always lighten up a situation, no matter how serious or how sad. Tom did the same thing, that was one of the things you liked most about him.

You and Sam sit in silence for a few minutes, until he finally breaks it. "He's not, you know."

"Huh?" you question, confused.

"He's not happy. You said he seems happy without you, but he's not. He's doing terribly, and it's not just from stress or his work. He won't admit it, but he misses you." he pauses, "I know I shouldn't be telling you this, but he asked about you the other day. About how you were doing and shit like that. I think he would take it back if he could."

You want so badly to believe him, belief that Tom actually still cares about you after all this time. But false hope is the last thing you need right now.

"Well, he can't, can he?" you say sharply, tears still threatening to flow out.

You and Sam sit in silence for the last five minutes of the ride back to your apartment. As he slows the car to a stop, Sam looks over at you sympathetically, "Look, I'm sorry if what I said made things worse. I just wanted you to know that your feelings aren't... one-sided I guess."

You know better than to yell at Sam, he was just trying to make you feel better, so instead of spitting out the sarcastic remark that was on your tongue, you manage out a half-hearted, "It's okay, thanks Sam." and shut the car door.

As soon as the door of your apartment closes behind you, all of the emotions come crashing down on you. A mixture of sadness, anger, guilt, and regret crushed your heart, smashing it into a million little pieces. It feels like two and a half years ago, when he first broke up with you, all over again. Everything was fine until Sam brought him up again, and the memories just all flooded back in. You fall to the floor, clutching your chest in pain, wishing someone was here for you. Wishing he was here for you. At the moment, it feels like you have no one. In reality, you do; you have an entire support system of people who love you so much and would do anything to protect you. But you only want him. You need him. He is the only person you have ever wanted, ever needed, and he's gone.

You want to hate him, you really do. He's caused you more pain in the past two and a half years than anyone or anything has ever caused you in your entire life. But you can't. You can never, and will never, hate him. Which makes you hate yourself.

After what feels like hours of crying, you finally calm down. There's no one at home to talk to and it's too late to call anyone at this point, so you flip on the tv. There's nothing good on Netflix or Hulu that you haven't seen yet, so you scroll through the other apps. You remember that you just got a free Apple TV subscription with your new phone, so you check to see what's on there.

And there it is. Cherry.

His face right on the screen in front of you, lighting your dark bedroom red. You know it's a bad idea and you know you'll regret it, but something draws you to watch it. You need him right now, and this is about the closest you're going to get.

It's fine at first. It's actually nice to see his face again after so long. He looks basically the same as the last time you saw him, just a little more mature. You feel good supporting him, even if he doesn't know it.

But then it's not fine. His character had just gotten into a fight with his girlfriend, so she comes to visit him in his apartment. They talk, and eventually he reveals that he joined the army and has to go away for two years.

"It's just a couple years. Just a couple years and a lifetime together." he whispers.

Then it all hits you, and you break down crying once again. You can't help but think back to that night in the treehouse, and how the conversation is so eerily similar. You wonder if Tom was thinking about it too, while he was filming the scene. Obviously, the circumstances were different, but it still makes you wonder.

You quickly shut the TV off, unable to bear it anymore. With nothing else to do, you try to sleep, but your thoughts keep you up. And as much as you try to fight it, your mind drifts back to the day you so badly want to forget. The day that it all ended.

"Hey, Tommy, what's up? I'm excited to see you tonight!" you pick up the phone. Tom is supposed to come back to London after filming his first solo Spiderman movie, and you could not be more excited to see him. It's been almost a full year since he left for America, and you miss him so much.

"Yea, uhm, about that. Plans have, er, changed a bit." you can hear the solemn tone in his voice.

"Oh no, what happened? Did your flight get delayed or something? I know there's some rough weather in Atlanta, but I didn't realize it was that bad."

"No, no, it's not that. I don't really know how to say this," he sighs, "I'm not coming home."

Your heart drops to your stomach. "What?"

"Yeah. I'm, um, I'm staying in America for now. I found a house in LA, it's nice."

"Well when are you coming back then?" you utter in disbelief.

"Not anytime soon. I have work, so it's just easier for me to be in America. I'm sorry." his tone is stiff.

"But what about us? I miss you so much, these past few months have already been hell for me. I don't think I can survive much longer without seeing you."

No response.

"Tom, are you still there? You know I can't move in with you. I'm already enrolled in university here in London, I can't drop everything and come to America if that's what you want."

"That's not what I want." At this point he seems to have no emotion in his voice, as if he's reading directly from a script.

"So then what do you want?" you start to really worry, tears already stinging your eyes.

"I think you can probably figure that out by now, Y/N."

"Tom, no. You seriously can't be thinking-"

"Yeah, I am thinking that. You've already said that these past few months have been hell, and I'm too busy with work, so I think that's the only option."

You plead with him, "Tom, please! We can figure this out, I love you so much. We can't break up Tom, I can't lose you." You're sobbing at this point, scared to lose the one person you need the most.

"No, we can't figure this out. We have to break up, there's no other choice."

"What happened to you and me forever? That- that night in the treehouse you said you wouldn't let anything come between us!"

"We were kids, Y/N! We had no idea what our lives were going to turn out like. That was a stupid thing to say and I never should have said it, okay? You can't keep every promise you make, especially when you're eighteen. But we're mature adults now, and the mature way to handle this is to break up. Understand?" His voice is booming through your phone speaker, and it's nothing you've ever heard come from him before. He was always calm, looking for a way to work things out. But now, he's completely giving up.

"Tom, please, I-"

"No, Y/N, I don't have time for this right now, I'm sorry. Goodbye."

He hung up. He's gone.

That was the last time you spoke to him. You didn't even get to properly say goodbye, let alone see his face before he was gone forever.

Unbeknownst to you, that phone call is still, to this day, Tom's biggest regret. Almost immediately after he hung up, he wished he had never called you in the first place. He was stressed from work, he was angry at his management team for making him stay in America, but most of all he missed you. So he did the only thing he could think of to take it all away - separate himself from you. He thought that if he broke up with you, he would feel better about his career choices and he wouldn’t have to wwc:orry about missing you anymore because it would be over.

He was wrong.

Every day since then, he’s wanted to call you, text, you, or somehow contact you to apologize; explain why he did what he did and how he still loves you, still needs you, still misses you every second of his life. But he knows he can’t. You would never be able to forgive him for breaking it all off so suddenly. There’s no way in hell you could still love him after something like that.

So he’s stayed out of reach from you for good. And he hopes that maybe one day he’ll be able to move on, find someone new like you’ve probably done by now. But deep down he knows he never will.

You’re still unable to sleep, and now that it’s almost four in the morning, you decide that you probably won’t be able to for the rest of the night. Not knowing what else’s to do, you begrudgingly roll out of bed and go to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. As you fill up your mug with warm water, you hear a knock at the door.

Who the fuck would be coming to your apartment this early? You suspect it’s Finn, as he always manages to forget his key. Maybe his night with the mystery bar hunk didn’t go as well as he had planned. You quickly set a tea bag in your mug and walk to open the door.

“Back so soon Fi... what the fuck.” your heart drops to your stomach.

It’s him. The same brown-haired, brown-eyed, British boy that you remember, staring down at you from outside your apartment at four in the morning.

“Hey.”

~~~~~~~~

tags: @pxkajesus @roseke @agentsofparker @lifeasjazzz @damnrancidchicken @tomhoelland01 @iwannabekilledtwice @rafehogwarts @non-eexistent @rosiexx8 @nearlydanger9 @realityisabitch07 @midgardassassins @jbreenr @cap-marvxl @ellesmythe @deepestcolorgiantopera @that-one-person @nevertrustapanda16 @rxmanxff @bubbleskz @quinn-spn58 @idkkkkaaw @aayaissaa @pjmjams @tiredstudenttrinity @isabella-bby @hollandprkr @pure-ghost @ladykxxx08 @white-wolf1940 @runawayolives @geekgirleve @thathurtbrolol @lost-girl24 @justafangirlduh @emistrash @writingrem @hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @mathletemadison @paulaabellag @miraclesoflove @captainamirica @mlmarint @quaksonhehe @laneybobeczko-g @peterspideysense @hollandstanevans @anna-sofia

[thatsgay-writes]

Day 12

PREVIOUS

The days after finding water we're pretty chill, minus finding out that Jeanette's body was gone. There was still some obvious tension between you and Toni and Toni and Martha and Shelby. You hadn't really interacted with either Toni or Shelby in the past few days either, opting to hang around Fatin. You hadn't talked to Toni because you didn't know what to say after the argument the two of you had and you had revealed your feelings for her in front of everyone. Shelby on the other head, had seemed to be the one ignoring you... Well maybe not ignoring she was just very short with you which was totally against her personality. You all had also made a schedule, seeing as you were going to be here for a while. Everyone got one chore a day and every once and a while a day off. Today happened to be your day off and you were glad, your chest pains had been happening more often and that concerned you.

It also concerned you that you didn't know when you would be rescued. The hospital, who was against the retreat but couldn't exactly do anything about it, had given you medication to help with your problem. It was enough pills for three weeks, just in case, but they had been lost like the rest of your stuff. You had checked the pilot bag that held all the medical stuff you guys had but it didn't have what you were looking for either. You've managed to hide coughing up blood by coughing into the elbow of you red shirt or spitting it out while in the woods. You had also been losing your appetite, which has been harder to hide. You'd force down some food and pretend like it was a lot so the other wouldn't worry. But today, luckily, you were starving and prepared to fully eat whatever Rachel brought for food.

---

"Let's feast!" You hear a Rachel suddenly yell as she stand on top of a little hill, carrying what looks to be a big amount of food. You stood up and attached your leg before joining everyone around the fire. You watch, mouth watering, as Dot cooks all the mussels over the fire. When they're done cooking, the mussels are laid out in a big pile in the middle. Everyone stared at the pile wondering who will go first, since they all understood how little food they had been finding the past couple days. "Eat as much as you want guys, there was enough of them to fill 3 more bags. I just ran out of room." At Rachel's words you all dive in and eat the mussels, except for Shelby. "Why aren't you eating any?" Leah asks as she looks suspiciously at Shelby. Not this again. You think as you eat your tenth mussel, what could you say you were hungry.

"I'm actually allergic to shellfish. Ate one at a birthday party and my throat swelled up like a balloon." Shelby responded as she watched everyone else eat. "That's rough." You say as you grab 3 more mussels. "Damn y/n. Is it good?" Fatin asks jokingly as she grabs another mussels for herself. You roll your eyes and let out a chuckle as you flip her off before grabbing more food. "You know what this looks like..." Toni says, grabbing everyone's attention with a smirk. You mentally facepalm because you know exactly where this is going. "A pussy!" Nora yells out causing everyone to laugh, the girl had definitely come out of her shell more the past few days. Toni nods her head before licking the mussels shell provocatively. "I bet y/n knows what that feels like!" Dot yells out causing everyone to make an "ooo" sound like kids when their peer got in trouble. You and Toni's face both heated up at Dots words and you made sure to give her a hardy punch in the shoulder.

"Can you all stop!?" Shelby suddenly yells out causing everyone to freeze and look at her questioningly. "Shelby, chill out we are just having some fun." Dot says, not really understanding what all the fuss was about. "I am chill, I just don't find that very amusing." Shelby responded, her voice getting a little harsher when she says the word that. "What do you mean by that?" Toni asks as she send you a quick look and you almost immediately understood where this was going. The look was one you or Toni would give the other when known homophobes where in the area or if the two knew you were being judge for doing pda. Was this why Shelley had been short with you the past few days? You did not like where this was going and neither did Toni. "Just... pornographic gestures. I'm from a very Christian home and no one ever does things like that."

You wanted to believe Shelby, you really did, but it explained why you always felt this weird vibe from her. "Don't lie Shelby, I always knew I felt some sort of vibe from you, it's clear now what it was. Toni and I have felt that vibe enough times to know what you really mean." You say, glaring at Shelby. "What... What are you guys trying to say?" Martha asks getting worried now. She knew what you meant when you said vibe, you and Toni had both told her about it. "She's a fucking homophobe." Toni spits out glaring at Shelby. You nod you head in agreement, putting back the mussels you had picked up before all this started. Martha's eyes go wide and she sends a Shelby a pleasing look, hoping she'll deny what Toni had just said.

"Look..." Shelby says as she lets out a big sigh. "I have no hate in my heart for y'all. It was just that I was taught that that way of life is a sin." Toni immediately jumps up and point her finger angrily at Shelby, "Why you little..." Toni was too mad to even finish her sentence. Martha had dropped her head in disappointment and let Fatin wrap and arm around her in comfort. The rest of the girls were just watching as everything unfolded. "I feel sorry—" Shelby starts to say, digging her into an even deep hole. "Fuck you." Toni interrupts her before storming off, you nod your head repeatedly in agreement, not looking at anyone as you finish putting your leg on and following after Toni.

---

"Toni. Toni. Toni!" You yell as you follow the girl. "Goddamn leg... Goddamn sand..." You mumble as you follow Toni down the beach. Luckily, she does finally stop after she deemed that she was far away enough to breathe. Toni kicks the sand angrily, as she stares out into the water. "I can't fucking believe this, no I can I just hoped..." Toni trails off as she wraps her arm around herself. You walk up to her and wrap your arms around her in a comforting hug, "I know, I know..." "We just get so much shit at home..." Toni trails off as she lets herself relax into your hug. "I know." You say again because that's all you can say. You relax for a few minutes before you get hit with a sudden nausea.

"Oh fuck." You mumble out as you unwrap from around Toni and throw up near the two of you. "Y/n?" Toni reacts in shock as she watches you kneel over as you try and spit out the taste of vomit and blood. Toni ends up turning around to throw up as well. "I didn't know you were a sympathetic puker..." You try and joke as you take deep breathes and slowly lay in the sand, feelin exhausted from throwing up. Toni wiped her mouth before turning back around, "C'mon, we can't stay here the heat wont help at all." Toni says as she pulls you to your feet, trying to ignore how she slowly started feeling worse. Toni has to practically drag your body back towards camp. "Help!" She yelled out as soon as she saw people and Fatin came running over. She took your other arm and most of the weight so Toni could relax some.

Luckily, the other girls seemed to be doing better than you and Toni. Both you and Toni were splayed out on the ground with Martha sitting near by as the other girls moved around the camp doing whatever.  "Come on, lay on your side y/n." Martha mumbles worriedly as she listens to your labored breathing. Toni was at least a little more responsive and had tried to swallow water, while you didn't even react to someone moving your body. "Fuck, she's getting worse..." Dot said as she walked up to check on the three of you. "Where the hell is Leah with that medicine!?" Fatin almost yelled as she looked between you and Toni. Right as she said that, Leah broke through the tree line and ran towards Dot. "Why are they all dirty?" Dot yells out as she roots through the bag. "Only 2? I thought we had 3, I know we had 3!" Dot pulls out two tablets of halophen. "It's obvious who needs them the most." Shelby stated as she sat a little ways away from the group unfold. Dot bites her lip and looks at Martha, "Martha, you good?" "Yeah, I'll take a Pepto."

Dot nods her head and turns towards Fatin and hands her one of the tablets, "Figure out a way for her to take it." Fatin nods her head as she looks down at you. "Toni, I'm going to need you to take this." Shelby said as she took the other halophen tab from Dot. "I'm not taking shit from you." Toni says as angrily as she can. "It'll save your life Toni. Take the damn pill." "Should Shelby really be the one doing this." Rachel questions. "Am I not allowed to help her!?" Shelby says exasperatedly. She climbed on top of Toni and held her nose closed until she opened her mouth. As soon as she did, she stuff the pill in her mouth and covered it, forcing her to swallow. Shelby got off of Toni and turned her attention to you, ignoring how the other girls were looking at her.

"Have you gotten her to take it yet?" Fatin shakes her head no, "She's barely reacting to anything. I'm surprised she's still conscious." The girls sat silent for moment contemplating what to do. They start to panic when you cough up more blood. "Here, give it to me." Dot says as she snatches the tab and a nearby rock. She starts to crush the tab up as much as possible. "Just pour some in front of her nose and breath deep." The other girls don't really question Dot's idea and just follow what she says. "C'mon y/n, just one big breath and then you'll start to feel better."

---

You were leaning heavily against Toni as you and all the girls sat around the fire. You were still exhausted from today's earlier event. Luckily, they associated you coughing up blood to throwing up to much and you didn't have the heart to tell them otherwise. No one knew about what was wrong with you except for the people at the hospital and yourself. You were finally clear to sleep by Dot because she wanted to make sure the meds had actually worked and that you wouldn't fall asleep just to never wake up again. You were almost asleep when Toni suddenly stands up yelling Martha's name and running over to her. You shake yourself awake and shakily stand up to see what was happening. Your heart stopped when you noticed that Martha had fallen and made no attempts at getting back up.

"Toni you were dying!" "Who cares? I don't matter! fuck, I don't matter. I don't fucking matter."

NEXT

[kiame-sama]

I love your (Yandere) scenarios and I'm always looking forward to new ones. So I wanted to ask if you could write an Nsfw scenario for Yandere Silva, where his darling tries to dominate him.

Come get y'all's lemon juice!

I have seen his thighs, he's pudding thicc and sculpted as all hell.

Silva probably has a scent like Cinnamon, Sandalwood, and Pine. A real husky and masculine kind of smell.

Baths are dangerous in Silva's eyes since his darling could drown herself while he's out. I hope shower sex instead will suffice.

Warnings: Dub-con, hint of con and non-con, aggressive sex, oral male and female, reader has female parts, dirty talk, attempted domination, aggressive dom Silva is aggressive, shower sex, orgasm denial.

~~~~~~~~

You stood in your bathroom, wrapped only in a towel and contemplating getting dressed after your warm shower. There really wasn't much reason to get dressed other than to feel less exposed. It wasn't like anyone came into your little cluster of rooms to begin with, let alone this late at night.

Sighing softly you gazed at your reflection, seeing the dark bags under your eyes. As much as it pained you to admit it, you hadn't been sleeping even half as well as you usually did these past few nights. And it was all because he wasn't home.

Though it was hard for you to accept, things just weren't the same without your husband around. Of course, it is all likely due to the fact that he was your main form of human interaction and the fact you had become so adjusted to sleeping in his embrace. You just didn't feel right sleeping without him holding you close, cuddled up to his warm chest and listening to the gentle rolling beat of his heart.

Even with your faithful heated blanket at your side, nothing could truly compare to the quiet calm and security that was sleeping in your husband's arms.

You let out another heavy sigh, closing your eyes and trying to muster up the energy to move. Just as you mentally prepared yourself to a lonely night, a sudden large hand lifting your leg to the side forced a sharp cry of fear from your lips. Before you could turn to see who had grabbed you, a different kind of cry left your lips.

There was a slick tongue sliding over your now exposed pussy, your breath catching in your throat. Everything made sense when you caught a flash of white hair in the mirror's reflection. It seemed you weren't going to spend the night alone after all.

You gasped and mewled as Silva dug his tongue into you, clawing at the counter you had been leaning up against. The slurping sound that came from where he kneeled between your legs only made you feel hotter. Every drag and flick of his tongue made you shake in pleasure, feeling his warm breath against your wet heat.

"Ngh~! Silva..!"

As your pleasure built up to a fever pitch, you tried to keep in control of your voice but you couldn't stop the loud noises that escaped your lips. Your voice cracked and rose in pitch the more he slid his tongue into you, crying out hoarsely as you reached your peak. Silva quickly stood and caught you as your legs gave out from the overwhelming pleasure.

A long whine escaped your lips as you were set onto the counter top, legs dangling over the side. You could feel his heavy length rubbing up against your entrance and the deep growling hum that came from his chest. He was enjoying watching you squirm beneath him.

"Ngh~! N- Nya- No, Silva..!  I just got out of the shower, I don't wanna have to take another one."

"I'll take it with you."

"But-!"

The soft complaint cut off with a loud gasp as he gripped you by the hips, pulling you back against him with one of his legs between your own. He slowly lifted and moved your hips, causing your still sensitive heat to press against his firm thigh as he let out a low growl.

"You're so wet... Fuck. Just dripping for me."

Any argument you had died in your throat as he moved you against him, that addictive feeling stirring up in you once more. You knew he wasn't going to stop or take your complaints seriously, so you decided to just let yourself get lost in the delicious feeling. Eventually, he didn't have to move your hips as you began to rub yourself against his thigh.

His gaze was burning hot but you did your best to ignore it and just try to get yourself off from the feeling. It wasn't like he was complaining anyway. If anything, he was soaking in the sight of you perched on his leg just drowning in the pleasure he could provide you. His swollen length twitching with his heartbeat, just wanting to bury himself into you.

"Mmm~ Just riding my thigh and being so needy for me..."

You let out a whine that was almost desperate when he gripped your hips, forcing you to stay still even though you still wanted more pleasure.

"Shh, I have something better I could give you."

He pulled you into the shower, turning on the water and watching you jolt and mewl from the cold liquid before it quickly warmed up. He easily moved you to kneel on the shower floor, guiding one of your hands to his aching length. His needs and what he wanted you to do being made rather clear.

Without a word of complaint, you began slowly stroking his stiff length as the water from the shower allowed your hand to glide over him. He bucked his hips with your strokes and wound his fingers through your hair, pushing the wet locks back to see your face. His hand came to rest on the back of your head before he guided your mouth to where he wanted it most at that moment.

Knowing he wouldn't take 'no' as an answer or protest, you simply opened your mouth wide enough to fit his large cock and let him do the rest. He did so happily and clearly took great pleasure in moving your head at his desired pace, fucking himself into your mouth.

"Fuck... That's right, clean my cock with your hot little mouth so I can pound your tight pussy into oblivion once you're done."

You were vaguely surprised by his words as he was typically not all too talkative during any sexual interaction the two of you had. Clearly he must have missed you much more than usual while he was away on assignment. The stoic assassin only becomes chatty when his desire for you becomes too much for him to handle.

Clearly pleasure was the only torture that would loosen his lips. No amount of pain or deprivation could make him talk, but the moment his needs are finally being satisfied, he will sing like a canary. It was one of the only things he wasn't trained to withstand during his many years as an assassin.

One of the only things he was allowed to be weak to.

A part of you wanted to see how far you could take it, as he was usually in a more agreeable mood while you were sucking him off. Testing his response, you moved at a faster pace, making a sharp inhale expand his chest at the sudden increase of pleasure. He seemed pleased and not annoyed with you taking the lead so you pushed your control a little further.

Gripping his hips, you started a push and pull movement in time with the pace you bobbed your head at, controlling the movement of his hips. He continued to allow you to manipulate how he fucked your mouth, relaxing into the steady stream of warm water and the pleasure you gave him.

You decided to go all out in your control over the situation and tightly grip the base of his cock as soon as he seemed like he was going to cum, forcing his orgasm to slip away almost immediately. The snarl of rage and frustration that ripped through the air made you quickly realize that you fucked up. You yelped in surprise and fear as you quickly found yourself pinned roughly against the shower wall, Silva's eyes practically smouldering in fury from having his pleasure denied.

"Now, what the fuck do you think you're doing trying to take control like that? Think I would just let you get away with it? Have I been gone so long you've forgotten who the master is here? Seems I need to remind you of your place."

The sudden feeling of him gripping your hips and slamming into you wrenched a cry that was more pain than pleasure from your throat. He didn't waste a single second letting you adjust to his massive cock and began pounding you roughly into the cold tile wall. The water from the still running shower did more harm than good as it washed away your juices every time he pulled out of you, making each thrust drag against your walls and feel like the first.

"Ple- ah-! Please! Slow- slow down!"

"No. You dare try to take control when you damn well know who's in charge here."

"I'm-! I'm sorry!"

"You will be."

His pace remained brutal in speed and force, each thrust forcing the air from your lungs and making you scream. Despite the roughness of it all, pleasure still built up in your body and overwhelmed your senses and even the pain. He aggressively slammed his lips against your own and you could practically feel your teeth clash together from the force of his violent kiss.

He immediately tangled his tongue with yours, easily dominating the kiss and forcing your tongue between his teeth where he harshly sucked on it and bit down firmly enough to hold it still. Your whimper was muffled and lost in the noise of the shower as the sound of wet skin slapping together became more apparent.

Just as you came deliciously close to reaching you orgasm, he stilled inside of you and let that pleasure slip away, just as you had done to him. You broke the kiss and let out a sob of frustration at your lost pleasure, crying out when you realized you couldn't move your hips to try and find that pleasure yourself.

"No! No, no, no! Silva!"

"You don't get to complain after what you did."

"No! I need-! I need it! Please! Silva, please! I need it so badly! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm-"

"If you're sorry, address me properly and apologize."

"Master! Master, I'm sorry! I won't forget my place again! Please..! Please forgive me, Master! I need you so badly!"

Your whines and squeals of desperation were almost pathetic, but you typically weren't denied your pleasure like this. If anything, you were actually quite spoiled when it came to the bliss Silva gave you on a regular basis. Being denied your orgasm was something that typically never happened seeing as he was usually quite the service dom.

"Are you going to keep being a spoiled brat?"

"No! I promise I'll behave, Master!"

"Good."

He immediately started thrusting into you again, making every nerve in your body spark in pleasure as your orgasm built up faster and stronger now. You were completely overcome with pleasure as you dug your nails into his skin, pulling him close and winding your arms around his neck. He let out a pleased growl with how affectionate you were being now as he rammed you into the wall with each thrust, eyes rolling back when you tug on his hair.

As if you were being drowned in pleasure, you barely registered your screams of bliss until your throat began to ache. The moment your pleasure washed over you in an engulfing orgasm, you let out one long scream that lasted until Silva released his cum in you and his hips stopped moving.

Your little heart was fluttering out of control and your breaths were shallow as you slowly came down from your high, shaking in his large arms and resting your head against his chest. Silva had calmed a considerable amount and instead held you gently as he moved you beneath the stream of the shower. You were exhausted and just relax into the massaging flow of water, letting him gently clean your figure.

You barely remembered him pulling out of you and drying you off once he was finished washing you both. The soft feel of blankets enveloping you coaxed a happy sigh of content from your lips, snuggling into his broad chest as he held you close, stroking your back until you fell asleep.

[twokinkybeans]

Daddy Ain’t So Tough [Starker]

Summary: Sometimes, the word Daddy doesn't necessarily mean you're the one in charge. Or: In which Peter and Tony explore their new little fantasies. Warnings/tags: Nff, smut, incest play/kink, daddy kink, daddy!Tony, bottom!Tony, sub!Tony, top!Peter, dom!Peter, restraints / light bondage, begging & teasing. Notes: HI DEARS! This idea has been in my head for quite a while now and I am so excited that I finally wrote it! PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS/TAGS CAREFULLY. There's some kinks in there not everyone might enjoy. If you do like it, please do continue :) :) <3 And thank y'all for your neverending support! -Kim

Read here on AO3!!

-

“Daddy,” Peter giggles as he straddles Tony’s hips. He trails his fingers down the man’s gorgeous chest. It��s everything Peter could’ve ever dreamed about- even if he hadn’t done it consciously so. The arc reactor is fascinating to him, as are the scars scattered around it. Obviously, the hard lines of the man’s abs are very welcome too. God, he looks so handsome and strong.

“Peter, fuck-” Tony mutters under his breath. Peter simply smirks and he lowers his full weight onto the man’s crotch, causing Tony’s lips to part in a silent gasp. Yeah. Handsome, strong, and entirely Peter’s

It’s only very recently that they made this, eh, discovery. It’s a weird power shift. Contradictory, even. Yet, the shared pleasure shortcircuits their minds more than they’ve ever experienced before. Nothing’s ever been missing, but this? This is a whole new layer Peter aches to delve into.

“‘M gonna fuck you so good, Daddy. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To be ruined by me?” “Yes, baby boy,” Tony lets out a breathy moan. “I’m so ready for you.” The older man tugs on his restraints in a desperate attempt to lay his hands on the striking, youthful body on top of him. With his 22 years old, Peter is absolutely breathtaking. Strong, ripped muscles to hold him down as no one else ever had. His legs tremble at the mere thought. “Petey- please.”

“Mmmmmh- that’s more like it.” Peter puts his hands down right next to Tony’s head and leans in to kiss the man’s warm lips. Peter moans when Tony is eager enough to immediately take a chance and suck Peter’s lower lip into his mouth. His cock twitches against Tony’s stomach and a hot surge of arousal courses right through him. Fuck. Fuck. Tony - ever-in-control-I’ll-handle-this-myself-Tony - is the neediest sub Peter ever imagined possible. “Nu-uh, Daddy, don’t get ahead of yourself now-” Peter murmurs and pulls back, smirking at Tony’s subconscious attempt to sneak in one more chaste kiss. Peter sits up straight, his hands finding their way to Tony’s hard chest again. His fingertips brush past the man’s soft nipples, earning him a loud groan. “So hot,” Peter whispers gently. He scoots down a little, now sitting on the man’s thighs, and he leans in again. “Bet you’ve been thinking about my dick in your ass all day, uh?” He sucks Tony’s right nipple into his mouth. No longer soft, nor gentle, but sucking harshly. Tony’s hips buck up wildly.  “God-fucking-” “Now, now,” Peter laughs, letting go of the nipple and hovering over the left one. Still awfully untouched. “Didn’t think you’d be this filthy when you raised me.”

There. He did it. He crossed the line again.

Peter looks up and swallows, checking quickly if Tony’s still up for- well… This. Tony’s cheeks flush a bright red and he bites down his bottom lip. He stares right back at Peter- also checking up on the younger boy. They’re still treading new grounds, new fantasies, something neither of them dares to admit out loud just yet. “Well? Did you think you’d be laying here, legs spread wide, for me? What would people think uh?” “Peter-” “Well?” “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck.” Tony babbles, his fingers trembling as he clenches them together. Tony is aware that he has to cue Peter to go on. That he wants in fact pretend to be Peter’s actual Daddy. It’s so hard to say it, though. It’s so awfully wrong and yet his dick aches with want. Peter looks down at him, eyes dark and expectant- waiting for a sign.

“If I raised you so well,” he breathes shakingly, “-then why aren’t your fucking your old man just yet?” Peter scoffs, cocking an eyebrow at him. His eyes are twinkling though, teasing and cunning and Tony whimpers quietly.  “You need it that bad, eh?” “Yes. Baby yes.” 

After that everything turns hazy for Peter. He growls low in his throat and crawls even further down, kneeling in between Tony’s legs and spreading them apart until the tip of his cock brushes against Tony’s already slick and prepped hole.  “All those times you punished me,” Peter rushes out, not knowing where the words come from but they feel so right. “Now you ain’t so tough.” “Just take me, kid.”

Peter doesn’t waste a damn second and he pushes inside without remorse, replacing the heat his fingers had been at a few minutes before. Tony’s eyes screw shut and Peter relishes in the feeling of this handsome, powerful man becoming such a proud bottom underneath his touch. He digs his fingers into Tony’s thighs, lifting his boyfriend’s legs up until they’re wrapped around his waist. God, Tony’s so warm and soft and tight and Peter bites back a pathetic whimper as he inches forward even more- the new position allowing him to slide in deeper.  “Call me that again,” Peter groans demandingly. “Wanna hear you lose it for me.” He draws back slightly, now gripping at Tony’s round ass and pushes in again with such force that Tony shifts upwards in the sheets. Peter’s still holding back, not using all his Spider powers, but some. Enough to make Tony’s eyes roll back. “Please, please kiddo, fuck your Daddy.” This time, Peter can’t help the high-pitched noise escaping his throat. He thrusts forward harsh- again and again and again. His movements accompanied by the loud and suspicious creaking of his small single bed and Tony’s choked off moans as pleasure washes over his lover’s face. Peter’s cock almost hurts with how badly he wants to release himself. Fill up the man’s ass with his cum. He wants to claim him, take charge.

Every single drag back and forth has him see stars. Peter’s breath hitches in his throat and he ignores the light burn at his knees where it creates friction with the sheets. It only makes him more feral. More possessive. More… In charge. Nothing else matters right now. All that matters is the sweet melody of Peter’s name falling from Tony’s lips over and over again. The burning pit deep in his stomach grows higher and bigger- warning Peter he’s going tip over that very edge soon. “Daddy, f- ah! Look at you, legs spread wide for your own blood. Fucking filthy, and you even like it- don’t you?” Peter chokes out. “Does it feel good knowing that you no longer own me?” “K-kid-” “Not anymore, not anymore. Tony.” 

Peter reaches down and curls his fingers around the thick, hot shaft of Tony’s cock. He squeezes, wants to drag his hand down and- “Aaah! P-Peter! Fuck don’t stop don’t stop dont-” Tony’s words turn into an incomprehensible string of syllables as white-hot come rains down onto his own chest. Peter watches in awe how the man’s face contorts with pleasure and a hint of blissful shame. His tight hole clenches around Peter’s still aching cock- and every fiber of his being wants to enjoy the same overwhelming euphoria. He quickly scans Tony’s face once, not sensing a hint of discomfort as he speeds up his thrusts. Not in the slightest. “Peter yes please fuck me through it. Show your Daddy how it’s done.”

Peter whines and drops his head forward. Curls stick to his forward where a sheen of sweat had gathered. He’s gonna burst. He can’t hold it back. Not even if he wanted to. His primal instincts have taken full charge of his body and he pounds into the slick heat beneath him until finally, his mind blanks out when filthily sweet sensations shake him to his core. He spills inside of Tony, feels how his cum mixes with the now warm lube. How Tony clenches around him to not lose a single fucking drop.  Peter lets out a shaky laugh, in complete wonderment of how good this can feel. How much better this is than his own hand ever had been. And when finally, after what seems to be infinity, his eyes flutter open; he’s met with the deep, loving brown eyes of the man he’s been able to call his lover for the past three and a half years. 

“Peter,” Tony whispers, body limp and soft and spent. Arching into Peter’s warmth. Peter cracks a smile and carefully lets go of Tony’s legs, leaning down to cover the man’s body with his own. Their legs tangle together while Peter’s cock softens inside of the man. He doesn’t care it’ll make a mess. Peter hums quietly and grabs his blanket to pull it on top of them.  “Tony,” Peter whispers back. Tony smiles, suddenly shy. A feature that will always leave Peter amazed. “Was that too much?” Peter asks. Not out of insecurity, but because he wants to gauge how his boyfriend has experienced it. Tony chuckles, turning his gaze sideways. “No.” He pauses and shakes his head. “That was… Perfect.” “Yes,” Peter agrees. His hands gently massaging their way up Tony’s arms to undo the restraints. “I really, really, liked it too.” “The whole kid thing hit home, uh?” “Fuck yes,” Peter grins. “It’s so… You. But also a good different. It makes it feel natural even when it’s play.” “Agreed.”

Tony groans when he finally lowers his arms now that he is no longer tied to the headboard. His arms wrap around Peter’s shoulders, gently caressing him. Peter smiles, his cock now slipping out of Tony fully, and he nuzzles his face against the man’s neck to nib at the skin there. “You sore?” “If I say yes, will you treat me with a back rub and hot chocolate later?” “Of course,” Peter teases along. Tony beams and nods. “Yes. Very, very sore.” “Turn around then.” “Yes, kid.”

[skullrock]

casanova - Steve x Reader

pairing: Steve x Reader

summary: You try to save Steve from himself when he gets a little too drunk at a party. 

word count: 2.3k

warnings: angst!!!, self doubt, alcohol, drugs, party scenes

a/n: yes I know y'all want fluff and I keep feeding you angst I am so sorry 

===

You watched Steve from afar once you filled a red plastic cup with water, passing it off as straight vodka.

You’d never drink straight vodka, but it worked.

Steve had begged you to come with him to a party, to get fucked up, to let loose. It had been three weeks since Nancy left him for Jonathan, and three weeks since Bob Newby died, and the Gate was closed. Steve was spiraling, and fast. He was always one to want to be the center of attention, but he had become even more desperate for any kind he could get. You were just thankful Billy kept a large distance between them – or you were pretty sure Steve would beat the shit out of him. Steve’s face had only just healed, and his memory was failing him, but he refused to get checked out – he just wanted to get as shitfaced as humanly possible.

And as you stand across the room and watch him, talking to a group of people loudly, you can’t help but feel like you failed him. You should have forced him to stay home. You feel nauseous just looking at him – how his shoulders sag with the weight of the world on him. How he can’t stand upright because of the alcohol. How his eyes are just slits from the pot. You are counting down the seconds until you intervene, but your nerves keep you against the wall.

Steve makes eye contact with you from where he’s standing, and his eyes squint even more as a large smile spreads on his face. It makes you sick. It’s genuine, but it’s not genuine. If he were sober, he wouldn’t be smiling that fucking big.

He meanders over to you, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “Hey!”

“Steve,” you say, knees buckling under the weight of his arm. “You okay?”

“No,” he says. “’Cause you’re not drinkin’.”

“I am,” you reply, holding up the cup.

Steve snorts. “That’s water.” He points to his head. “I’m not stupid.”

You nod. “Okay, buddy.”

“’m gonna get more,” he says, but you pull on the back of his sweater.

“No,” you say. “You’ve had enough. Just relax, alright?”

“Alright, dad,” he says, laughs loudly, and then stalks away.

You want to drink. You want to drink so bad. The headache that’s building gnaws on your brain, and you know it’s only going to get worse. The music makes your head pound, too, so you head off to a bathroom to calm down.

Steve knows he’s gone too far tonight, but he decides to lean into it instead of sobering up. The dizziness in his head feels good. Making people laugh feels good. He feels wanted and loved for the first time since Billy stepped foot in Hawkins, and it’s intoxicating. He loves the fame, the attention, he loves feeling the smile on his face. He throws back drink after drink, smokes puff after puff, and soon, he can hardly stand.

He sits on the couch, watching the room wave around him. He hears someone talking beside him, and he turns. It’s a girl he doesn’t know – or maybe doesn’t remember – and he blinks hard. “Hello.”

Soon, her hand is resting on his knee, and his is on hers, and they’re leaning in too close. He loves it. She’s not Nancy – he knows that, he knows that – but he can pretend. He can pretend someone wants him and loves him. It doesn’t hurt him. Not when he’s this fucked up, at least.

But you’ve come to his rescue, pulling him up from under the arms, dragging him as he loudly protests out to your car. He stumbles, he slurs, he shouts, but you keep pulling him.

Seeing him with that girl nearly made you throw up. And not because of your own feelings for the guy - but because Steve was about to be taken advantage of, and you could have prevented that from simply not letting him get this fucked up in the first place. You know he will hate you for “ruining his shot”, but you weren’t about to let him get hurt like that. He’s been through enough.

You get Steve into the car and buckle him up. He’s gone silent and you know it’s because he’s filling with rage. You know there will be a tantrum coming, and you mentally prepare yourself for whatever insults King Steve can find within him.

Halfway to his house, he finally speaks. “You’re an asshole.”

You wince but remain unfazed. “Okay.”

“Can’t believe… trying to ruin my life.”

You sigh heavily. “I’m not ruining your life.”

“You are.” He squeezes his eyes shut.

You stay silent, not wanting to fuel it further.

Steve seems to forget that he’s mad at you for a moment when you’re pulling him out of the car. Actually, he acts like he doesn’t remember being in the car with you at all, giving you a surprised, “Hey!” when you sling his arm over your shoulder. You grab the spare key under his welcome mat and stumble inside, Steve making no effort to walk for himself.

You finally get him into his room, gently sitting him on the bed. He grabs your hands and pulls you towards him, but you push off quickly, blushing profusely. It’s then that Steve realizes you’re not the girl he was flirting with on the couch, and his eyes read betrayal. He stands and falls back down on his ass, huffing. “The fuck is your problem?”

Here we go, you think. “Steve –“

“Why can’t you let me be happy?”

“I’m not the one getting in the way of your happiness, Steve.”

“’s that supposed to mean?”

You rummage through his desk to find his ibuprofen. You bite your tongue, although you want to tell him off so badly.

Your silence only fuels Steve. “’s your problem? Why can’t you have… have fun? With me?”

You slam a drawer shut and turn to him. “What’s so fucking fun about getting shitfaced at any available chance?”

Steve looks surprised, but his eyes narrow. “You’re just as bad as her.”

You laugh. “I’m just as bad as Nancy? For saving you from yourself?”

“I didn’t ask you to save me.”

You roll your eyes and open another drawer, finding the ibuprofen. You take out a few and shove them towards Steve with a water bottle from his nightstand, but he just slaps your hand so that the pills fly everywhere.

Steve, when angry, acts like a four-year-old, and he’s even worse when he’s drunk.

“Fine,” you say, sitting the bottle and the water on his nightstand. “You can suffer in the morning. I did my part.”

“You have no right,” he says, voice surprisingly clear, “to tell me what to do with my life. I wanted to be with that girl.”

“No, Steve, you didn’t. You wanted to feel special.”

“Is that so bad?”

You shake your head and turn to go towards his wardrobe to get him new clothes. He reeks of cheap beer and pot. “You need to start taking care of yourself.”

He stands then, striding over to where you are and pushing you to the side to grab his own pajamas. You roll your eyes at him and step aside, letting him clumsily search through his things. He pulls out a white t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts that definitely don’t fit him anymore. He throws his clothes off aggressively, stumbling as he puts the shorts on, and then looks at you like he’s just done something incredible.

You’re pretty impressed, because he usually wears his party clothes to sleep.

You walk him back to his bed, gently sitting him down again. His fists are clenched, and his jaw is tight – it’s heartbreaking to see him like this. Tears well in his eyes and he whispers, “I hate you.”

“You hate me for taking care of you more than anyone has in a year?” you ask, kneeling in front of him. You grab his hands and force him to lace his fingers through yours. His grip is still tight, but he’s not at risk of breaking his fingers on his palms. “You hate me for caring about you?”

“I don’t need your help,” he slurs. “I’m not a kid.”

“You do need help, Steve. I’m not letting you get like this every week. I’m –“

“You’re worse than her, do you know that?”

It hurts, but you were prepared for that low blow. “You’ll get over it, Steve.”

He ungrips your hands, pushing you away weakly. “I want you to go.”

“Fine,” you say. You stand, but then kneel back down again. You gently grab his wrists and try to catch his eyes. “Steve… there’s more to life than stupid Nancy Wheeler.”

“You think this is just about Nancy?” His voice cracks and a tear falls onto his cheek. “You think – you think it’s just because the love of my life left me?”

You’re silent.

“It’s because Billy Hargrove beat my head in so fucking bad that I – I can’t even remember my locker combination. It’s because everyone looks at me like I’m dirt. It’s because girls treat me like I’m a temple, or whatever – I don’t remember the saying. God, I don’t remember anything.” He takes a shaky breath. “My head hurts, all the time. It races. I can’t fall asleep until four in the morning. I worry about the kids on an hourly basis. Bob Newby died, and I couldn’t do a god damn thing to save him.”

Your eyes shoot downwards, guilt coiling around your gut, hot and tight.

“And to take the cake – the girl I loved, more than anything in the world, left me for the same guy she told me not to worry about. She told me I was bullshit. She told me I killed Barb.” You hear him sniffle and your heart aches. “Do you have any idea how much that hurts?”

“No,” you whisper – because you truly don’t.

It’s quiet for a long time. Your eyes are locked on the floor, and Steve’s are locked on his comforter. Finally, you whisper, “I’m sorry.”

He shrugs out of the grip of your hands on his wrists. “I want you to go.”

“Okay.”

You make your way towards the door before he calls out, “Can you tuck me in?”

His voice is so small and weak. Steve hates it more than anything. He feels like a kid again – he feels just like he did when he had nightmares and his parents didn’t do anything but send him back to bed. But he wants that safety – needs it – and so he needs you to tuck him in.

You walk back. Steve lays down, wrapping his arms around a pillow and tucking his knees up to his chest. You tuck the sheets in tightly around him, and he squeezes his eyes shut. You can see tears running down his cheeks, and you again whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” he says. He sounds worn and exhausted.

“Steve,” you say quietly. “I care about you so much.”

“I know.”

“I just didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” You’re about to walk away when Steve’s hand emerges from the covers, grabbing yours. He pulls and you trip, falling onto the bed, and Steve opens the blankets up for you to crawl under.

“Stay,” he says. “Please.”

You take a deep breath and contemplate – is it really okay to crawl in with him? But he looks so lost and sad, and you don’t want to leave him on his own tonight. So you crawl in, wrapping your arms around Steve tightly.

You can feel his tears on the cold sheets. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry I fucked it all up.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” you explain, holding him tighter. “I don’t want anyone to take advantage of you. I don’t want you to feel like you need to prove yourself.” Your throat starts to burn as tears creep in. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to be someone you’re not.”

“I don’t want to feel like that, either.”

It’s quiet for a bit more, and you think maybe Steve’s fallen asleep. But then he whispers, “You’re not like her. I don’t hate you.” He pauses. “And I don’t hate her.”

“I know,” you say. You reach for one of his hands and stroke his thumb with yours. “It’s alright, Steve.”

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he says. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know.”

“I want to get better, Y/N.”

You press your forehead into his shoulder. “I want to help you get better.”

Steve picks up your hand and presses his lips to the back of it. Your stomach flips and jumps and twists, the breath knocked out of you. You love him.

“You mean everything to me,” he whispers. “You’ve been here for me through everything. And you never ran away. You never left.”

“How could I?” you ask. “You’re the best thing in my life.”

“I love you,” he says. It’s weak and faint, but there’s a truth behind it, whatever that truth may be.

“I love you, too.”

Soon, his breaths become shallow, and his chest rises and falls softly. You press yourself tighter against him and squeeze the arm circling his torso. He might forget it in the morning – he almost certainly will – but you love him, too, and you’re going to help him get better.

===

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[mythrilhusk]

!!Kill Techno-sensei!! - Chapter Two

Words: 2,076 Chapter One (Last)  AO3 Version Chapter 3 (Next)

The class absorbs the threat, stunned, hushed. Quackity clenches his fists. "Why the fuck would you do that?" His defiance shatters the silence. 

"Because I can." Technoblade replies dismissively. "But I am here to teach, so please, open your textboo-"

"No." Quackity smirks, wearing a confidence he doesn't feel. "Why would you destroy the Earth? You're immortal, sure, but you seem like the kind of guy who's easily bored. What would you have left after your little temper tantrum?" 

One floppy ear flicks irritably. "You see, the idea is, I'd die as well." 

"If you want to die so fucking bad, why don't you just let us kill you, asshole?" 

"That kinda defeats the purpose of the threat. You see, you're completely correct in your assessment. I am bored." Technoblade's light yet nearly monotone voice grates on Quackity's nerves. "I'm simply too good. Unbeatable, even. I've searched and searched, but haven't found a single worthy foe." 

"So you failed!" Quackity crows, slamming his fist on the desk. Psychological warfare, baby.  

Tommy takes up the jeer as well, "You failed, big man, ho, ho!! Eat shit!"  

Technoblade scowls and buries his muzzle in the thick textbook. "Why don't we move on. Page three-hundre-" 

"Move on?? Move on?? You killed my family, Technoblade, you fucking killed them all! I can't fucking move on from that!" Quackity snarls. 

Exhaustion leaks from Technoblade's glower. "I've killed many families, Quackity. All for one goal." 

"Fuck you and your motherfucking anarchy!! You think I'm scared of you?? I- I-" The words choke in Quackity throat as Technoblade stands up. He shrinks in his seat.

"Stay away from him." Sapnap growls. 

Technoblade ignores the students completely, instead turning to the whiteboard and picking up a marker. "History is not circular." 

"What's the fucking point." Quackity grumbles under his breath. There's no winning against a man who'd have no qualms about punting him. 

"Nor is it straight." 

"Pfft, knew it. Now everyone who hates history will get cancelled for being homophobic." Tommy somehow manages to both lighten the mood and make everything worse at the same time. 

Technoblade doesn't get angry or annoyed, however. "Heh. History is pretty gay, not gonna lie. It's also-" He steps away from his crude drawing of a squiggly line, "a helix. History repeats itself in stages. Anyone want to guess why?" 

Tommy leans back in his chair. "Because you're fucking dumb, that's why." 

"Ranboo?" Technoblade addresses the creepy, quiet boy huddled over his desk in the back of the class. 

"Uh- well-" 

"Nothing ever stays the same, big guy." Tubbo interjects. "It's not as simple as stuffing it all into a one dimensional form. Who's to say it's even a line at all?"

Technoblade shrugs. "Fair, fair. Why don't y'all discuss." 

With that, most of the tension in the room dissolves. Groups form as students gravitate towards their friends. Chatter fills the former silence. Quackity forces himself to join in, laughing and pretending like everything is normal again. But nothing about this is normal. 

He can't kill Technoblade through sheer strength. But he could easily outwit him. The gears spin in his mind, working out a plot. 

++++

The first week has gone by uneventfully. Nobody's tried to kill Technoblade yet, who in turn has behaved like a responsible teacher, refraining from punting anyone. It's so boring. 

The last class of Friday ends with the bell, and the kids file out. Technoblade ignores the bitter glares from the little ‘gang’ that calls themselves Ducklings. They haven't attempted anything yet, and Technoblade doubts they'll ever find the guts to actually go through with their plots. Pity, really.

Tommy remains behind, trying to shoo Tubbo, who refuses to leave him. "Teacher!" Tommy stomps up to Techno and slams his notebook on the desk. He's a blustery scamp, but Technoblade has seen how he brightens the classroom and helps his peers. 

"Tommy." 

"Let me kill you." 

"Us." Tubbo corrects. 

"Let us kill you or else." 

"Or?" 

“I'll fail all my classes." Tommy grins, seeming confident he's found a bargaining chip. "And I'll tell everyone else to fail theirs, too. You'll be known as the worst fucking teacher to have ever teachered!" 

"Oh, the horror." Technoblade deadpans. He's got to admit, the kid has guts. "You think I care?" 

"You've gotta. You're our teacher, after all." 

"K." Technoblade doesn't smile. "I'm afraid I can't just let you kill me." 

"Then prepare to be failed upon!" 

"But." Techno holds up a hand. "But, if you try to pass your classes, I will teach you how to kill me. Deal?" 

Tubbo pipes up, "That will be adequate. Come on, Tommy." 

Technoblade waits until both are out of the classroom. He doesn't feel guilty at all. What should he feel guilty for, after all? Simmering rage burns in his chest, a constant companion to the acid in his mind. 

Next class, he promises himself. Next class, the training will begin. He'll be one step closer to achieving his goals. 

Technoblade rises and lets his human form melt away. The voices in his head scream, as they always have, as they always will, hundreds of thousands of souls trapped in here with him. His eyes-- all millions of them-- blink open as his hundreds of wings unfurl. Anyone who could see him now might name him a beast or an angel, and either could be correct. But Technoblade knows both are false promises. Humans can't create beasts or angels, after all. 

Demons, however, are apparently a different matter. 

++++

Ranboo only went back to get his notebook. He can't forget his notebook; that is the one thing he's not allowed to forget. Shadows seep from every corner of the classroom. He shivers as he hastily scrambles to his desk. 

His book isn't in his desk. Where is it?? He can't lose it. He rummages in the desk frantically. Where is it, where is it, where is it?? 

The window creaks, and Ranboo yelps, leaping away from the sudden draft. "Wh-who's there?" 

"Hey." The kind voice greets him from the darkness. "You're out late." 

"I- I just- uhh, who are you?" 

"Who are you?" 

"I- uhh, I'm Ranboo." He backs away to the door. On the floor, silver glints in a shaft of moonlight. The spiral of his notebook. Crap. The shadowed form leaps silently into the classroom and kneels to pick up the book. Crap, crap. "Uh- that's- that's mine, actually." 

"Is it, now?" The gentle mockery in his tone sets Ranboo on edge. 

"Yes, actually, so- so give it back. Please?" 

The mysterious form opens Ranboo's book and flips through it. "Interesting. Alright." He hands it back to Ranboo, who snatches it and scrambles for the door. "Actually, Ranboo, I wanted to talk to you." 

The words yank Ranboo to a halt. He wants to retort, he wants to say no, he wants to leave, but instead he turns back meekly. "Okay?" 

"You're in class 3-E, yeah?" 

"Y-yeah...?" 

"Good. That's good. Do you want your teacher to die?" 

"Huh?" Ranboo tenses, confused by the seeming non sequitor. "I- I mean." Does he want Technoblade to die? Does he want anyone to die, for that matter? "N-not necessarily?" 

"Hm. Alright." 

"Who are you?" Ranboo gathers what little courage he has and steps back towards the door. 

"You, hm, you can call me Dream." The man steps out of the shadows. The mask over his face grins eerily at Ranboo. "I've got a proposition for you, Ranboo." 

++++

"Metal melts in the bastard's skin, so anything with metal is a fucking waste of time." Quackity spreads the pages of his plan over the tree-house's table. 

"Maybe he's a vampire." Karl offers, sitting on the table and messing up Quackity's perfect layout. "Try wood stakes and garlic." 

"Vampires aren't real, dumbass." Connor rolls his eyes. 

"Well, neither are immortal pig-men mutants, but here we are." 

"He's a pig-man, not a vampire. Maybe try something for werewolves? Silver?" Sapnap joins in, swinging on the hammock. 

"He's not a fucking werewolf!" Quackity shoves Karl off the table. "Or a vampire. He's a motherfucking demon, that asshole is, and we need to fucking kill him!" 

"Language!!" The screech from the roof of the treehouse freezes everyone in place. 

"Karl." Quackity says calmly. "Who the fuck did you invite to our secret hideout?" 

"Nobody!" Karl cries. 

"Connor?" 

"He said he'd bring coke!" Connor cries. 

A short man dressed in goth black and red accents drops through the window and smiles at the Ducklings. "I did, but the cans burst on the way." 

"Not soda-" 

"Language!!" The man cries again, shushing Connor. "You kids shouldn't mess with bad stuff, anyway." 

"We don't." Quackity shoots a glare at Connor. "Anyway, it's none of your fucking business. Why the fuck are you here?? What do you want??" 

"I, uhh, just thought I'd help with your problem." The man grins. "You want to kill your teacher, right?" 

"Yeah? But-"

"Well, there you go! I can help you! Name's Bad, by the way. Badboyhalo." 

"How can you help? And what do you want in return??"

"Oh, hmm, how about seventy-five percent of the bounty." 

"Deal." Twenty-five percent of ten billion is still more than enough, and Quackity would prefer revenge on Technoblade over riches, anyway. "How do we kill him?" 

"I've got associates working on that tiny problem. We stole- uh, developed a way to hurt him temporarily, but he can't be killed unless you hit his heart, and his regen powers are too strong to let you reach that with any weapons we currently possess." 

"How the fuck do you know all this??" 

Bad smirks. "Social networking."

++++

Ranboo paces in the chilly alleyway, reading and re-reading his book as shivers wrack his body. He found it. Good. Everything is fine, now. He's fine. 

He shuts out the uneasiness caused by the blurry darkness over his memories. He's never had a good memory, which is why he has this book in the first place. 

He huddles in the corner of the grimy alley to complete his homework, and wonders briefly why there's a second notebook in his backpack also marked 'Do Not Read'. Maybe he forgot he already had one. No worries. It's fine. 

Everything is fine. 

++++

"Class." Technoblade greets his students as they file in. Quackity glares at the monster. He's in his piggy form today, his cloak swishing across the ground. 

"Rise." Tommy calls out the traditional honor given to teachers. But the class hadn't done this before for Technoblade. Quackity glances around at his fellow students, who all seem just as confused. He stands up. The others hesitantly follow his lead. 

"Bow." Tommy sets the example of a shallow bow. Then he straightens and draws a revolver. "Lock on!" 

Quackity stares as Tubbo, Eret, and Wilbur also draw out guns and take aim on Technoblade. 

"Heh??" Technoblade chuffs in confusion. 

"Target on Korosensei!" Tommy snaps out the order. "Fire!" 

"Korosensei??" Quackity's disbelieving laugh is drowned out by the ringing cracks of the guns and the shrill shrieks of students.

"HEH??" Technoblade chuffs again amidst the chaos. Quackity makes the signal to his gang as they stay out of the line of fire. 

"All stop!" Tommy barks. The gunfire ceases. 

Technoblade stares at his class, a tusky smile cracking across his muzzle. "For your first assassination attempt, that was four stars, kids." 

"Wow, that's really good!" Tubbo cheers and high-fives Tommy. 

"Out of ten." 

"Oh. Awww, come on, we deserve some credit for actually getting guns!" 

"You missed." Technoblade replies. "And you ruined my whiteboard." 

"That's your fault, innit, though, big man. If you'd've taken the bullets, the whiteboard would be alright." 

"That's true, that's true." Technoblade's smile fades into a scowl. "But you also put your classmates in danger." 

"They could've asked us what the plan was." Wilbur hums. "It's really their fault for sitting between us and you. And therefore it's your fault for assigning their seats there." 

"True." Eret agrees. "It's all Korosensei's fault."  

++++

Philza walks between his guards, Punz and Ponk, as the two escort him through the compound. "What happened?" He asks, faking calm. 

"Technoblade added another term to our deal." President Skeppy walks backwards in front of Philza. Beside him, Awesamdude keeps a hand on his holstered revolver. 

"Did he." 

"He wants his class trained for assassination. In return, he told us his weakness." 

"Hm." Philza smiles, hiding the whirlwind of chaos and bloodlust behind his eyes. "Pog."

@@@@ KOROSENSEI NEVER DIES @@@@

Chapter 3 (Next)

[deans-baby-momma]

The Padackles Link-Chapter 76

Waking up in Jensen's arms in the hotel room, in the bed that we had shared with the Padalecki's a few hours before, brought a smile to my lips. 

Both Jay and I were still unclothed, only the flat sheet covering our nudity. I slowly turn in Jensen's hold to see him start to rouse.

Sleepy green eyes become visible as his eyelids flutter open. I feel so much love for this man. He is so generous, loving and protective. 

"G'mornin'," he whispers, his voice low and gruff. "I had the craziest dream. We-" 

I watch as he finally realizes we aren't in our bed at home, our son isn't just down the hall sleeping.  Jay sits up fast and puts his face in his hands.

"Oh god!" He exclaims after dragging his hands down his face. "It wasn't a dream. Fuck! What did we do?!"

My stomach drops as I realize he regrets what had transpired. Did I misread him all this time? He hadn't really wanted to participate in a foursome with our friends, his co-worker? Was this going to change everything?

Would this break us up? I mean, we practically slept with other people! Would he even be willing to talk to them ever again, let alone work beside Jared?

I sit up and hesitantly place my hand on his shoulder.  "Jay-"

"I'm so sorry baby," he says, interrupting me. "God, how can you even look at me?"

Ok, now I was confused. What was he apologizing for? He did nothing wrong. And that's exactly what I tell him, causing him to jerk his head toward me.

"I had sex with Gen! God, how can you even think I did nothing wrong?" He asks as he slides out of bed and begins pacing. "I fucked your best friend and I ENJOYED IT! Damn, will you ever forgive me?"

"Jensen Ross Ackles!" I say, getting up on my knees and letting the sheet fall. "Look at me."

Jay stops his pacing and turns toward me. "I'm kneeling here, naked as the day I was born, leaking Jared's cum! We went into this together.  

"Are you pissed that I fucked Jared?"

Jensen shakes his head.

"Listen babe. I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'd be kinda disappointed if you didn't because Gen is hot, especially when she lets her dom side out."

That gets a small smile out of my boyfriend. 

"Am I right?" He nods. "Listen, I'm glad you liked it because truthfully,  it turned me the fuck on! Watching two of the people I love the most pleasuring one another? Hot."

"I had fun," he tells me as he climbs on the bed, walking on his knees to join me in the middle of the mattress. "And seeing you with Jared was more enticing than I imagined." He cups my cheek in his palms and leans down toward my face. "He did ya good, didn't he?" He breathes against my lips.

"Yea," I murmur before he lays claim to my mouth, invading it with his tongue. But before the kiss could go any further, the door connecting our room to the Padalecki's opens and Gen gasps.

"No! Stop!"

Jensen and I pull apart and he fumbles to grab the sheet to cover his nakedness. I can't help but laugh at his modesty. 

Gen chuckles herself and rolls her eyes. 

She approaches the bed and leans over, kissing my swollen lips. 

"Get dressed and meet us in the hallway. We'll go out for breakfast. There are a few things we need to discuss."

Slapping my bare ass and then jerking the sheet from Jay's grasp, she smiles and says, "Don't hide it now. Second best dick I've ever rode."

Jay's cheeks turn pink and Gen laughs as she leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

"Man, she's good," Jay says staring at the door.  "I would have never, in a million years, thought she was such a kinky minx. Jared has never said a word."

"Do y'all share stories about your sex lives with each other?" I ask him as I pull the dress from last night over my head. Guess I'm going to breakfast commando.

"Well, I mean we don't have like gab sessions and talk about it. But sometimes things come up and we'd discuss our personal wants and fetishes."

"So he never told you Gen was a wildcat in bed?" I ask, smiling at him.

"No, come to think of it….we kinda quit sharing stories when they began dating. All I know is she made him wait until the sixth date to sleep with him."

I began fidgeting in my seat at the restaurant; going commando in a slinky dress was nerve-wracking! What if I move the wrong way and give all the patrons here an eyeful? The heat vent is right by our table and it seems to be blowing right at the apex of my thighs, unintentionally making me wet.

Gen notices my discomfort and asks me to go with her to the bathroom. Once inside, she peeks under the stalls for anyone else. 

"What is wrong with you, Drea? You're acting uncomfortable."

"I am!" I hiss, pulling on the hem of my dress. "Jared ripped my panties last night so I'm-"

"Bare?" Gen finishes for me.

"Yea," I breathe out, glad that she seemed to understand.

She shrugs and pushes open a stall door. "Eh, so am I."

"What? How are you not uncomfortable?" I ask as I enter the stall beside hers.

"I hardly ever wear them anyway," she answers nonchalantly.

I think back to my first time with her and Jared and realize that even then she hadn't been wearing any then either. "Oh."

Gen laughs as I hear her toilet flush. I finish my business and hit the lever and join her back in the main area at the sinks.

"I tell you something sweetie," she says, our eyes meeting in the mirror. "Your man sure knows how to keep his word. I'm still leaking his cum."

We laugh and leave the bathroom, joining the men back at the table. I notice our food has arrived in our absence.

"Now, you said we had things to discuss?" I ask as I poke at the eggs on my plate.

Gen looks around and then turns back to the table. "It's about sex. You two having sex, specifically. "

I drop my fork onto the plate. “What? What about it?” I look at her and Jared then Jensen. “Are you saying we can’t?”

“What the hell man?” Jensen asks, looking at Jared incredulously.

“No we aren’t saying that at all,” Jared chuckles. “But we just think since I’m trying to impregnate Drea-” he pauses and runs a hand through his hair before leaning his elbows on the table. “-maybe you could wrap it before you tap it. That way when she does get pregnant there won’t be an issue of who the father is.”

Jared’s explanation actually makes a lot of sense to me and even as I’m nodding, Jensen scoffs. 

“I don’t like this. I don’t like it at all!”

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @carryonmywaywardcaptain  @darlingpeanut @sunskittlex @sis-tafics  @sea040561 @pretty-fortune @squirrelnotsam  @death-unbecomes-you @sandlee44  @internationalmusicteacher @kricketc29@natura1phenomenon @mannls  @nickie-amore @spn-tw-37 @frozenhuntress67 @blacktithe7 @supernaturallymarvellous @thetardishasaquidditchpitch @sirod-30  @heyitscam99 @smoothdogsgirl  @paintballkid711​ @closetspngirl​ @i-just-wanna-run-hell​ @starfirerules​ @vickiq9761​  @rainflowermoon​  @spnbaby-67​ @drakelover78​ @jessieray98​ @81mysteriouslyme​ @travelingriversideblues-x​ @akshi8278​ @keymology​ @topthis808​ @lilulo-12​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @i-love-superhero​ @tftumblin​ @markofdean79​ @thevelvetseries​ @larajadeschmidt13​ @delightfullykrispypeach​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​

[moonydaydreams]

𝐣𝐮𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮

Fandom: It Lives In the Woods

Pairing: MC x Noah, MC x Connor (past)

Words: 7.363 (holy cow)

Summary: Lightning never strikes the same place twice, but a second chance does. Even for someone like Noah Marshall.

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, angst 101 and swearing for dummies

Author’s note: This is my first Choices story and, holy cannoli, this is longer than I intended to be. But nonetheless, this an AU of what could have been had neither Noah or MC sacrificed themselves to take Jane’s place (THIS IS, IN ANOTHER WORD, A FORM OF DENIAL, Y'ALL. CAUSE THAT ENDING WRECKED ME) and Noah fled from Westchester. I’m sorry if the characters seem OOC or the story feels meh. So if you’re digging it or simply detest it, let me know, yeah? thanks!

———————————————————————————–

In a city where the subway stations smell like after-shave and peanut butter and jelly breath smelling college students at nine in the morning, and half of the street names that he still can’t recall to this day, a young man in a beanie, who couldn’t have been more than twenty or twenty-one enters a small 24/7 convenience store with his hands thrust deep inside his coat pockets.

A burly, beer-swilling, 6 feet of a man behind the cashier, elbow-deep in the football magazine in his last season’s Real Madrid jersey, glances up from his reading upon his arrival. His eyebrows narrow.

“Never seen you visiting this late,” Romero comments dryly over the trip-hop music that is playing over the speakers and flicked his eyes back to the magazine. “Did you accidentally shoot your dealer or some shit?“

Romero’s attempt on making small talks with him, albeit as condescending as it sounds, does not fall on deaf ears. But it’s cold outside and he’s hungry and broke, he simply doesn’t have the will to entertain him.

“Shut up. I’m hungry,” replies the young man, stopping by the instant food section. His eyes finding the many varieties of flavors and brands and feels his stomach sick at the amount of artificial food he’s been consuming over the years. It’s like being eight all over again.

“Well, knock yourself out. We just stocked up those crazy spicy Korean ramen you kids can’t seem to stop feeding.” Romero’s face breaks into a mocking grin. “Can’t wait to see you all die from cancer.”

“Instant noodles don’t directly cause cancer on its own, actually.”

Romero burst into laughter. “And how the fuck does a two-bit junkie like you know that, Malcolm?”

The boy’s face involuntarily twitches.

And it isn’t because of how alien the sound when someone addresses him with his fake name or how Romero somehow thinks he has his character all figured out. The thing about living in incognito for years, he’s already become accustomed to those; to prejudices and living up to the persona that people design for him just to inflate their egos and ward them off of his tail in the process. No one wants to affiliate themselves with “the junkie” or “the hot-headed mechanic with suicidal tendencies” and he is more than fine with his solitary.

No. It is the nature of the question that throws him off guard and how his mind all too soon, against his better wishes, refers to her.

Suddenly, he is Noah again. Thirteen years ago at the age of eight, looking out of the window with Jane as they watched a girl about their age in a short tutu dress and combat boots climbing up the oak tree in their backyard to save a distressed kitten.

Their parents saw this, did a double-take, went hysterical and called her parents. He later learned her name was Liz and that she’d just moved into the neighborhood a week ago.

Then he sees Liz again, now a few months after their first encounter, running off to the forest with Jane’s arm linked with hers. He remembers her messy braided hair and freckles multiplied by the sun as they led Noah and the rest of their friends to abandoned ruins they’d somehow stumbled on a week ago. 

His memory of her somehow jumps forward. Now, he sees her in a different light, a different vignette. It is from three years ago this time and she was no longer the Liz all knees, elbows and mud on her shoes young girl from his childhood. She was Liz, on the edge of seventeen, her hair nine shades lighter than when she was a kid (she also had bangs now) with a barbed wire bat in her left hand, and a fire axe in the other, but still the same dark-eyed sprite that made his cold, dead heart skip a beat whenever she looked at his way and smiled that smile of hers; the kind that radiated her cheeks and lit up her eyes. 

The same light that he watched slowly waning from her eyes when she discovered his ulterior plan. 

His heart feels like shattering into smithereens all over again. He doesn’t realize he’s been squeezing on the noodle packet too tight until he hears the contents shatter in his hand. 

“A friend told me,” Noah finds himself saying even before his brain can halt it. Staring blankly at the packet, his mouth dropping into a frown.

He can feel Romero’s gaze on him, curious and confused. Shifting between the packet in his hand and his glazed-over expression. Noah, realizing he’s just projected his emotion right out in the open, huffs and throws the squeezed noodle packet into his shopping basket. 

Romero clears his throat. “Sounds like quite a friend.”

Noah pretends as if the jig isn’t exactly up and decides to actively ignore the older man. He gets the rest of his needs, holding the last of his composure against slipping and brings his groceries to the cashier, looking down at his feet whenever Romero glances at him in genuine concern.

“Catch ya later, Malcolm,” Romero says as he hands Noah the change. “And, uh… stay safe, you hear me?”

Noah, in return, only nods his thanks, probably a little too curt according to the polite society and leaves.

Outside, thunder begins to roll overhead. Noah eyes the sky nervously. It’s going to rain soon. And hard judging from the way the clouds are moving across the black midnight sky.

Noah rifles for his cigarette pack from his pockets, lights one and begins making his way back to his hellhole of an apartment. Treading slowly through the deserted streets, steering clear from alley-ways and suspicious characters until he can see the window of his apartment.

Then, Noah’s feet skid to a hard stop.

His jaw drops, his cigarette falling unheeded to the ground.

Sitting on the front steps of his apartment building is Liz, swathed in an oversized overcoat, her head leaning onto the railings, she seems to be sleeping.

What in the sweet fuck?

For a good minute, Noah stands stock-still. He simply gazes at his former best friend, nonplussed and borderline panicking. A migraine begins to form in his head. He gazes over his shoulder, watching and waiting for anyone to jump at him from the alley or anything, because there is no way in hell this is not a trap. This can’t be. 

He waits and waits, but no one comes out. Confused, Noah looks at her again, his expression inscrutable. If this is not a trap, then this must be a cruel dream the universe pulls on him for all the wrongdoings he has committed in his life. That, or Noah must have tragically died on his way back home and ascended to heaven. 

But then, if this is heaven, why is he here?

Eventually, Noah kneels before her. He reaches his hand out to her, hesitating mid-move and touches her shoulder.

“Liz?” he gives her shoulder a gentle shake. “Liz, wake up.”

She does. Slowly, her eyes flutter open, bleary and brown, and meets his gaze for the first time in three years. Noah feels like his breath stuck in his throat.

“Noah?” Liz blinks sleepily, twice, then yawns into the back of her hand. “What time is it?”

He glances at his phone. “A quarter past two.”

Liz’s brows furrow. “Huh. What were you doing out so late?”

“Had to do a supply run.” Noah gestures to the shopping bag in his hand. Then, “Liz, what are you doing here?” he asks, his voice a broken whisper.

Liz doesn’t answer his question, merely wraps her arms around herself, attempting to keep warm and sighs tiredly.

“Noah, can we go inside?” she pleas, instead. Desperation fuelling her voice. “I’m tired and cold and I…” she trails off.

Consideration flashes in Noah’s eyes for a moment. The logical part of his head insists for him to take her to the nearest train station and send her off back to Westchester. It’s the right thing to do. Considering that he’s been laying low for years now, the last thing he needs to add to his ongoing headache is for the police to suspect that she’s an accomplice.

But he’s never been the wiser one.

So, he takes her gloved hand and helps her to stand and, after giving one last look at their surroundings, of course, ushers her inside the apartment building. 

Neither says anything as they make their way to the staircase, as they venture through the grimy hallway where the dim and shadowed lights overhead following their every step like vultures and past the occupied doors where a loud, sexual moan comes from behind one of them.

She doesn’t make any comment about the awful state of the place he lives in, while he simply doesn’t have the capacity to be embarrassed because everything happens so sudden, Noah himself is still second-guessing if any of this is real. 

Finally, they stop by his door. Noah produces the key from his wallet when he hesitates, remembering the state of the room the last time he left it.

“A bit of warning, though…” He rubs his neck, embarrassed. “it’s pretty messy inside.”

“It’s fine.”

Noah turns the key and eases the door open.

The rain has started to pour. Noah turns the side lamp on and takes off his coat, his groceries on top of the kitchen counter. He watches as Liz, as if in a daze, tosses her coat and gloves to his bed and walks towards the direction of the window. A hand against the windowpane, the flare of the street lamp outside illuminating her features in the dimness, she silently watches as the rain falls on the pavement. Lost somewhere in the tangled cobwebs of her thoughts.

And it occurs to Noah that she is no longer Liz, on the edge of seventeen with a barbed wire bat in her left hand, and a fire axe in the other. She is Liz, older, with circles under her eyes, the world on her shoulders and a few pounds lighter than he remembers, but still the same dark-eyed sprite and with the pale shades of haired girl that he yearns to wrap his arms around and tells her how sorry he is for all those years ago, for leaving without saying a proper goodbye and how all these years it is her that keeps him going through every day and drives him insane at the same time. 

But he can only remain in his place and forces to quell his desire to do the aforementioned. Because Noah’s pretty sure that privilege is long gone the moment his betrayal came to light. Even to be standing in the very room with her is a crime, yet here they are.

Here she is.

“Liz?“ 

“Yeah?”

“Have you, uh,” his gaze finds the ramen packets, suddenly feeling inspired. “Have you eaten anything?”

She is silent for a while. “No.”

“I’m making ramen, you want some?” 

“Okay.” 

With that, Noah rolls up his sleeves, takes two eggs and a few vegetables from the fridge and begins to work. He ditches the salty packet of MSG and makes his own broth while at the same time, mincing the garlic and green onion and grating the ginger. By the time he sautées the aromatics, Liz makes a beeline from the window and hops onto the counter, watching him distractedly as he continues cooking. 

She stays silent and so does he. Despite the lack of words, everything feels strangely… domestic? Under different circumstances, Noah can easily get used to this; him cooking for her, with her becoming his taste tester whenever he’s experimenting with new recipes he finds on the internet and simply impresses her on a daily basis. Yeah, he can definitely get used to that.

Ten minutes passed, Noah then moves the ‘upgraded ramen’ to the bowls and serves one to her. The taste will probably pale in comparison to the one that her mom used to make, yet it earns him her first smile of the night, albeit small and closed-mouthed, it’s still a smile nonetheless. 

He grabs two cans of beer from the fridge and moves onto the couch with her. They finish their meal within minutes, still in silence. For a moment, the only sound that encompasses the room is the rain and his next-door neighbor who has the TV going in full-blast. That asshole.

Noah reaches out for a cigarette pack from the coffee table, dexterously flicks his wrist so a single one pops halfway out of the carton. He casts her a sidelong glance.

“Do you mind if I…?” he trails off, gesturing to the cigarette. 

Liz’s stare zeroes on the cancer stick, scowling, as if she doesn’t approve of this vice of his, but shrugs nonetheless. 

“So, how, uh…” Noah clears his throat, gathering his courage. How does he do this? How do you break the ice with your former best friend who you happen to have a crush on for more than a decade and almost murdered because your dead twin sister compelled you to do so without being awkward? 

“How are you, by the way?“ he manages to ask behind a plume of smoke. 

“I’m doing okay,” she says but in a tone when someone is obviously not okay.

“Just okay?”

“I…” she hesitates. “Yeah, just okay.” Liz lies and manages a weak smile. Noah decides not to press for more information. “Though I’ve been busy these days. I’m trying to finish my dissertation sometime around next year.”

"Already?” And she nods. Noah whistles, obviously impressed. "I’m guessing you did take the English major?”

Liz’s eyes widened slightly. “You remember." 

"Yeah.” Noah looks down. Of course he remembers, not when it’s impossible to forget the very idea of Liz Mortimer. “And your old man doesn’t try to fight you for this?”

“Nope. After Ja–” she clamps her mouth shut. “I graduated, let’s just say he had a hard time saying no to me.” She chuckles, but just for a good three seconds and Noah doesn’t have to ask why to know the reason behind her father’s sudden change of heart.

“How about you?��� she asks, then shakes her head. “I mean, how are you?” She amends.

Heaven knows I’m always miserable, Liz. But he doesn’t say that. “I’m okay, too, I guess." 

"Just okay?” Liz parrots his own words at him and he smiles, the left side of his mouth higher than the right. They may still be painfully awkward to one another, but it feels so good to be talking with her again.

“Nothing new under the sun for me, but I’m thriving. And, um, how’s the others?” a.k.a the bunch of group of friends I hurt.

“They’re alright. Lily started her own video game called Pixie Moon, which I have no doubt will take the world by storm the way Candy Crush did; Ava is writing a book about witch trials; Stace is studying journalism and basically kicking ass; Dan is pursuing psychology; His majesty King Kang himself is playing for the Bighorns; and Lucas, as you can expect, is off to save our earth.”

Noah swallows the information one by one. His face an inscrutable blank. All of his friends somehow have found a place on this earth, they all have moved on except for him, again, who’s still scratching around in the same old hole; his future derived, his past an endless pitfall.

“And Connor?” he asks quietly, when in truth he doesn’t give two-shits about the man. But he knows she does, and Noah loves her too much to let his jealousy dictate his behavior. 

Suddenly, her face falls. Teeth chewing nervously on her lower lip. “He's… fine. He’s probably at home now as we speak.“

“And now you’re a long way from home.”

“So are you.”

Noah shakes his head. “Westchester stopped being my home the moment I turned eight.” He sighs forlornly, looks the other way, hands fidgeting. Force of habit. “Liz, as much as I’m glad to see you, but why did you come here?”

“How long have you been staying here?” Liz evades his question as if he never asked it in the first place.

Noah raises an eyebrow, exhales, but decides to play along. “Since August. So that’s two months. Probably, the longest I have ever stayed in one place.”

“Where have you been all this time?”

“Well, there was Utah and Kansas. Then Minnesota for a couple of weeks, but I couldn’t stand the cold and the rest is history,” he keeps his answer as vague as possible, not when he still has no idea the nature of her visit. “Look, why are you here?”

But still, the girl dodges his question. “Why do you–”

Until his patience can’t simply take it anymore. 

Noah is all but scoots over to her position until their knees are touching, the cigarette forgotten on the ashtray, and grips her arms firmly. His eyebrows knitted as he takes in her stunned face. 

“Liz.” There is a twinge of anger, confusion and desperation in the way he says her name this time. “Why are you here? You know you can’t be here. Goddamn it! If the fucking cops find out that you’re here…” Once he realizes what he is doing, he withdraws his hands as if she’s fire and now he’s burning.

“They won’t. I can assure you that." 

"You don’t know that.”

“I know what I’m doing, Noah. Trust me, I wouldn’t have come here if I knew it’s not safe,” Liz replies, her tone doesn’t leave any room for doubts and he knows there is no way to talk his way around it. Not to mention, he trusts her, if there is anyone who can sneak behind authority and get away with it, it has to be her.

Noah shrugs, agreeable, but he isn’t going to let her off so easily. 

“How did you find me, anyway?” he questions, reaching for his cigarette and takes a deep, long drag just to spite his throat. He has a feeling he might be smoking his misery away all night by the time she’s left.

The blonde-haired girl shrugs and absentmindedly leans her back against the couch, one arm wraps around her midsection. “It wasn’t easy, actually. But I made some new friends in Pine Springs and one of them is acquainted with the newly-minted Police Chief. Pulled a few strings and here we are.” 

“Pine Springs? What the heck were you doing there?”

“It's… a long story. But there were people there needing my help, and in exchange, they helped me track you down. An eye for an eye.”

Lightning suddenly jags across the night sky, briefly illuminating the room, pulling him out of his musings. She jumps at the sound, startled, and instinctively reaches for his hand. Noah freezes at the contact, forgetting how her skin feels like on his or a decent human contact in general. It’s been so long. And somehow he loses the ability to speak, to think.

He definitely doesn’t think when Noah moves his hand under hers, intertwining their fingers together.

Noah feels her head moving, her eyes darting from their joined hands and to his face that turns into a parade of expressions– misery, regret and melancholy. The holy trinity of feelings he’s been bearing for the past three years– for the past thirteen years of his life, actually– and feels her hand squeezing back his. 

“Christ, I can’t believe you went all through that shit just to find me,” he croaks, all but on the verge of tears. “And I left you just like that even without saying sorry.”

“Noah…”

“No, let me say it, Liz. I need to say it.” His hands are trembling, his composure this close from crumbling. “What I did was unforgivable. And I know there is nothing in this world that could help me undo the damage I’ve done to you and how I’ll spend the rest of my day regretting it, but regardless, I’m sorry,” he sobs, his whole body is shaking by now. 

“I’m so sorry for the nightmare I put you through. I was so blinded by my own volition and revenge for Jane’s death that I hurt you, all of you in the process without giving a single rat’s ass about it.” Noah pauses, wipes his tears with the back of his hand. “I’m a monster, Liz. A selfish, heartless, miserable monster. God, I should have died that night.”

“Hey, hey, look at me.” She plucks the cigarette from his other hand, discards it on her empty bowl and places her other hand on his shoulder. “Noah, look at me,” she says again, her voice like a caress. He looks up. “Don’t say that. You are not a monster. You’re just a byproduct of the pain from losing your sister, loneliness and bad parenting. That doesn’t make you a monster. That makes you human.”

“A normal human being wouldn’t lure his friends into abandoned ruins in the middle of a fucking forest where his sister died and put their lives hang in the balance.”

“No, they wouldn’t, but if there is anything Dan taught me is that people react to loss in different ways.”

Noah groans and pushing himself to his feet. “No, don’t try to find a way to justify this. Didn’t you forget, I could have killed you that night. You! The- the only one who gives a fuck whether I’m breathing or not.” The only one who matters. “If you hadn’t stopped her… God, I don’t even want to go there.“

She gets up from the couch as well. “I’m not justifying anything. Yes, what you did to us was… It was harrowing, it was despicable but I also knew the extent of your agony that drove you to do it. I understand… and like what I said that night in the cave; it’s not your fault. Not exclusively, at least. And I forgive you for it.”

“Liz–”

“No, listen to me, we all made mistake–”

He snorts. “Not on a grand scale like this, I bet.”

“Maybe not. But the fact that you give a shit and beat yourself up for years for what you did, that already speaks a lot,” she says. “You’ve tormented yourself enough. It’s not going to do you anything good. It’s not going to erase anything. What you need to do now is to close that book. Get a new one, write a new story, move on. I have forgiven you, I’m sure the others have forgotten about what happened until someone mentions it, it’s your turn now.”

Her words hit him like a piledriver and for the first time in probably like forever, he does feel slightly better. Even if only an infinitesimal amount and even he may won’t be forgiving himself anytime soon, but still, hearing those words coming from her mouth mean the whole world to him. 

“Why did you really come here, Liz?” The question is a tad out of place, but it feels like their previous conversations were made entirely to build up for this. 

Her frown melts away, replaced with somewhere between doubt and conflict. He holds her gaze for a minute, undeterred, then she turns her back on him to face the window once more. The suspense gnaws at him, yet still, he bides his time. 

“I have something to tell you,” she finally says, keeping her voice low.

“What is it?” He replies rather impatiently. When she seems to be hesitating, he adds, “And don’t beat around the bush, Liz.”

A deep breath, foot taps, a hand clutching at the hem of a buttoned-up dress and another deep breath. 

“Connor proposed to me.”

A beat. Then,

“Oh,” and it’s barely audible. And Noah feels like his heart has been torn from his chest, thrown into the ground, drags it through the mud then stomps on it for good measure. And that he feels worse and emptier than he was before she came here. “Congratulations.”

The words that come out of his mouth could have been his, because he can barely hear his own voice in this white noise. He always knew Connor and her were smitten with each other the moment she stepped into the hardware store for the first time, but Noah doesn’t expect it all would extend to marriage.

She looks over her shoulder, half-turned, one eye on him. “I wasn’t finished.”

Noah blinks at her, momentarily confused. “What?”

“I…” her voice wavers. When she turns to face him again, she is pinching the bridge of her nose. Her eyes scrunched up. “Ah, fuck this is never going to be easy. Long story short, I freaked out, made a scene at a restaurant, ended our three-year on-and-off relationship and went here.”

“Wait, what?”

Liz shrugs, guiltily, all Atlas-and-the-weight-of-the-world.

“Yeah,” she, much to his surprise (and concern), chokes a laughter, manic and loud. “Yeah, I did it. I fucked up the longest relationship I’ve ever had and broke my best friend’s brother’s heart because I wasn’t ready, because I’m an idiot.” When she does look at him, her eyes are bright. “Because I’m in love with someone else.”

For a brief, candid moment, Noah’s brows furrow as his mind goes to one of his former friends. Is it Dan? Ava? Or could it be Lucas? Because the last time he saw them together, they were pretty inseparable– although their relationship is strictly platonic as far as he’s concerned. Has that dynamic changed after he left? 

Then Noah realizes her eyes are still on him– and quite expectantly, that is, and that’s not… no, that can’t be right, can it? 

His demeanor shifts drastically as he stands there, stunned silence. Disarmed by her confession. 

He tries to speak, but his jaw won’t shut back to its place; his brains short-circuiting.

“Yes, I have loved you ever since I’ve known you, Noah Marshall,” Liz mutters when he remains silent. He can tell this is something she’s been holding in for a long time. “Even though we hadn’t spoken to each other for years after Jane, there hadn’t been a day that I didn’t think of you. When we finally reconnected three years ago, I wanted to say all these things to you, but..” she smiles wistfully. “Well, shit happened.”

“Why?” Of all the people you could have fallen in love with, why me? What he means to ask.

“Because you understand me like no one else; because you climbed up to my window to bring me your homemade grilled cheese sandwich when I was grounded when we were 8; because you actually listened and showed me that my vulnerability doesn’t always have to be my weakness; because I love the way you wear your beanie like 24/7 and the way you shake my hair whenever I say something stupidly amusing to you. Because it’s you!”

“No.” It’s a denial, it’s an attempt to ward her off from someone like him. It’s a lie. “No, no, no, no, no, Liz, you can’t fall in love with someone who’s-who’s mentally unstable or tried to kill you in the past, that’s like…” he gesticulates wildly. “Crazy! You are crazy!”

“I’m sorry, are you any better?”

“Of course not! But to forgive me is one thing, Liz, to love me, that’s a whole different level of insanity.” Noah begins to pace agitatedly around the room back and forth. “Fuck. I can’t hear this. Not from you.”

“Why not?” He sees the hurt expression on her face. Then interrupts just as soon as he opens his mouth. “Noah, I’m not asking for your answer this instance–heck, I’m not even asking you to reciprocate my feelings, but please don’t invalidate my emotions. Not when I waited for years to say it to you.”

“But this fucking complicates everything!” Noah points out.  

“Maybe. Maybe not, but you don’t know that,” she says resolutely, echoing his words from before. 

Noah doesn’t say anything in return.

She steps closer and slowly raises her palm to cup his cheek, an attempt to calm the storm within him. His hand grasps her wrist before she can make contact. 

“Noah–" 

His breathing quickens. Noah swallows and shakes his head.

“Liz, we can’t do this. No matter…” he sighs, his eyes boring into hers. Here he is, again, dangling on the edge of damnation, of what’s right and wrong. It’s wrong, yet he knows that she knows, from the heat and electricity that dance between them, from the pressure of his fingers that tell different stories, that he, too, wants the same thing.

“No matter what, Noah?” She murmurs, staring up at him with hopeful eyes. She really wants him to say it, does she?

He extricates her hand from him, taking steps back, putting as much distance he can from her. “Forget it.”

“Look, Noah, if you feel what I think you’re feeling, then what is it that you’re afraid of?" 

Noah whirls around to face her again. "Everything! Can’t you see that if we do this, the world will turn against us?" 

“Since when do you care about other people’s opinions?”

“I wasn’t worrying about me.”

"Well, I don’t give a fuck what others or this thrice-damned world thinks!” she exclaims mulishly. “After all we’ve been through, is it so wrong to be selfish, to follow your own heart just once– just once? Is it– don’t you care about what you want?”

“I want-” Noah stops. His hands tugging at his red beanie cap. “Never mind what I want.”

Her voice is quieter now. “What do you want, Noah?”

For an interminable moment, heavy with the promise of both release and regret, he only stares at her. Contemplating his options.

Perhaps loving her shouldn’t be the sin he thought it was, especially when she wants the same thing in return. Although he’s more than aware that he’s the last person in this world who deserves her affection, but deep down, Noah knows that he’ll never forgive himself if he didn’t run the risk now and spent the rest of his life wondering what it felt like instead.

“You.” Always you.

She holds his gaze. “Then have me.”

And as if an unknown force was taking over his body, Noah crosses the distance between them, his free hands cradling her face, drawing her close and kisses her.

It’s like a dam breaking, everything floods out. They do not kiss gently, desperation orchestrating their every move that the world around him grows distant and dim.  Twelve years of pining for each other, of secretive glances, of murder attempt and mutual misery and it all leads them to this. His thumb skimming the curve of her throat and feels her pulse leaps. He stops. Worrying if he’s crossed the line.

But Liz grabs the front of his clothes, pulling him even closer– as if they aren’t close enough– and kisses him back with a matching fervor. Her body pressed against his, warm and unfamiliarly familiar, and Noah swears his heart skips when she emits a quiet desperate noise that he happily swallows. 

Suddenly, Noah pulls back. “Liz, I’m sorr–” he says breathlessly.

“No, don’t you dare apologize,” she says firmly, her lips still tinged pink from their kiss. “I… I started this.” Her tongue darted out over her lips. “Are you okay with this?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I want this.” Noah’s hands dropped to her waist, his cheeks burned. He’s inexperienced, yes, and it shows, yes, but this is Liz. The last thing she does is to laugh at his face about it. “You?”

“You have no idea.”

His cheeks grow redder. “I’m, uh… now what?" 

"I think,” she leans in, tiptoeing, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and playfully says, “I want you to kiss me again.”

Noah grins, more relaxed now knowing he has her consent. “I think I can provide that.”

He let her set the pace this time. Kissing him softly and sweetly, but as equally mind-blowing as the first time before the next thing he knows, they are kissing senselessly once more; the next thing he knows, she swipes her tongue on his lower lip. Drawing a surprised groan from him. His lips instinctively open up to her ministrations and he is rendered weak when Noah feels her warm tongue delves into his mouth. He tries to follow her example, but can hardly navigate through his own mind every time.

He can feel her fingers toying and tugging his beanie off, her nails grazing his scalp and his desire rocketed. And this time, Noah isn’t afraid to act, as his hands on her waist slowly glide upward; from her hips to her ribs, stopping just under her breasts which results in Liz’s breath to hitch in his mouth. His mouth travels down her jaw, the length of her neck, her collarbone. 

When he finds himself on the bed, on his back, and Noah has absolutely zero clue how or when he got that way. 

He sits up. Without thinking, grabs her hips to pull her onto his lap, hands rough, settling her against him as he tips her head upward and continues his onslaught on her neck. Her hands on his shoulders, coming up to the strands of his hair. Encouraging him, guiding him lower and lower until his mouth reaches her clothed breast. 

“Oh my god.” Liz’s eyes closed in pure bliss, caught up in the sensation, and ground her hips against him and, fucking hell, the friction feels so good and erotic and sets his entire being alight that Noah isn’t fast enough to stop the low, rumbling moan that comes from his mouth. 

“Fuck,” Noah swears and rolls his hips in response. At this rate, even if he wants to, he can’t hide the evidence of his physical desire, growing hard against her, making her produce these small high-pitched gasps every time his bulge brushes her just right, her pupils blown to hell and fucking fuck.

He is dry humping Liz. Liz. His sister’s best friend. His Achilles’ fricking heel. Good fuck, if Jane was still alive, what would she say about this?

“Noah?” She whispers.

He doesn’t realize he’s been lost in his own thoughts. “Sorry.” Noah mentally clears his head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to space out on you back there.”

She stares at him, seemingly unconvinced. “Did I go too far?" 

"What? No, no, you are incredible. Don’t worry.” To prove his point, he gives her thigh a distracting squeeze. “Liz, what if I say I want more? What if I say that I want you?”

Liz is quiet for a while. “Are you sure?" 

"Yeah. I know the last time we met I said I wasn’t ready for dating and stuff, but it’s you. And if you’re up for it, I’m game, but if you–” Liz chuckles at his stammering. Whispering “You’re fucking adorable” as Noah groans and hides his face on the crook of her neck. “Liz, you’re fucking driving me out of my mind here.”

“Well, I’m game.” Liz leans in and kisses his temple. Noah can practically hear her smile from here. “You know, for someone who seemed adamant on pushing me away, you’re awfully eager.”

He grins, running his finger down her spine until every hair in her body stood up. “Keep teasing me, and you’ll regret it, Mortimer.”

“Bite me, Marshall.”

Noah does bite, literally, on that delicious spot under her ear before flipping her onto her back on the bed, making her giggle like a drunken schoolgirl; making her dress hike up to her thigh, just enough for him to see her underwear. He settles himself atop her, right between her legs. His hips and an unmistakable hardness press firmly against her soft thighs. 

This is it, then. The wheels are in motion now and Noah can scarcely believe this is happening.

She props up on her elbows and begins undoing the buttons of her dress with great speed, eyes never leaving his until she pulls him for another searing kiss. Then Liz raises her legs, wrapping them around his waist and rolls her hips once more.

She moans softly, as Noah’s mouth trails wet kisses down her throat, nipping and sucking as he goes, until it finds its way to her nipple. He bucks up into her, growling, as he takes her other nipple in his mouth. His shaky hand makes to drop her legs away from his waist, yanks the hem of her dress upward and dips between her legs, slipping past the waistband of her underwear to touch her that she jolts, gasping and moaning loudly altogether. 

Liz writhes, her hands clutching onto his sweatshirt like a lifeline, head tilted back as her hips involuntarily move against his hand, desperate for relief. Noah inserts two fingers, watching with heated gaze for her reaction as he pumps in and out, long and slow, short and fast. Pushes deeper, crooks his fingers a little. The rough pad of his thumb rubbing her clit in fast circles until her moan grows increasingly loud and she comes hard, shattering into Noah’s fingers. 

When it’s over, Liz is a panting, limp noodle.  She lays there, properly spent, smiling contently at the ceiling with heavy, bedroom eyes. Noah hovers above her, kissing her nose with a newfound satisfaction as he watches her trying to even her erratic breaths.

“Whoa.” She breathes out. “I guess I should have known those hands weren’t made only for kitchen knives.” And lazily wraps her arms around his neck. “Jesus, I’m wasted.”

His teeth gently nibbling her earlobe, his hand teasing her nipple again. “I’m nowhere near done with you.” Fingers trailing down to her warm, still over-sensitive slit again that Liz shudders like a flower. “Not even close.”

“I can’t–” And Noah freezes, thinking if he’s gone too far. “No more foreplay. Fuck me, Noah. Now. Please, I want you.”

In an uncontrolled frenzy, Noah pulls away from her, removes his sweatshirt while Liz assists with the buttons of his shirt. He works on his belt, freeing his member from the tight confines of his jeans and pulls her panties over her knees. Not bothering with the rest of her dress.

They kiss again as he repositions himself above her. Liz’s hand reaches down to grab him, guides the head toward her entrance, her legs once again settling around his waist. 

In his head, Noah mentally prepares himself, counts to five, then slides his girth into her. The two groan in unison at the joining.

“Jesus fuck.” Noah’s head flops forward, jaw clenching. He is inside her, and it feels a dizzying kind of spectacular. “Fuck, Liz, you feel so good.”

Below him, a crackling gasp escapes her lips, her mouth drops into a perfect circle as her head falls back to the bed and looking oh so beautiful. Noah begins to rock his hips into her, the strands of his brown hair brushing against her damp forehead, the parts of his brain that enable him to think slowly shut down. His hand wanders to touch every part of her body.

Everything is on fire. Everything feels so fucking good.

“Look at me.” She does, through lidded eyes, lashes heavy with arousal. “Say my name.” Noah never really thought he would be this vocal in bed, but there’s just something about Liz that brings this side of him. “Say it, Liz.”

“Noah,” Liz moans his name, clinging to him like mad, nails raking his back. “Noah, shit. Faster.”

Noah wordlessly obliges, liking the way she thrashes underneath him. Her breaths coming faster, higher so he moves even faster, pounding into her with reckless abandon just to show her how much strength he has. He finds himself growling rather animalistic against her skin, biting her shoulder. Feeling himself drawing closer and closer to the edge. He isn’t going to last any longer.

He puts a hand between them to rub her clit and Liz’s eyes roll back.

“Ooohh, god. N-noah!” she cries out, her words quickly morphed into a desperate wail. "Don’t stop, don’t stop, oh, please!”

Liz is a blubbering mess, screaming against the pillow. It is too much. The combination of his cock fucking her mercilessly and the friction his fingers provided on her sensitive spot is enough to make the girl convulse pathetically on the bed. 

When she comes, he follows not long after. Going rigid and groaning gutturally in her ear, emptying himself inside her.

When the ripples have passed, Noah collapses on top of her. Both panting and sweating from… whatever is it that just happened between them. Liz cradles him against her breasts, peppering tired kisses to his hair that is now sticking out wildly in every direction, locking him in her embrace, their left hands intertwining.

They stay like that for a few minutes, in a very much comfortable silence since she first set her foot here before Noah rolls to the side on the bed.

“Holy shit, we just had sex,” he says when he’s regained the power to speak again.

Liz chuckles and turns to face his side, sticking one of her legs between his while he pulls the covers over their forms. “Yep. Though, honestly, I never would have thought we’d end up having sex when I came here tonight.”

“Liz, I didn’t even know you’d be coming over. I can safely say tonight has been one hell of a surprise after another.”

She doesn’t say anything. At least not for a while.

“I hope you know I meant every word that I say to you,” she says kindly. “You’re not the villain in the story, but neither you are the hero. You are human, with your flaws and all, and I love you despite all of it.”

“Except you. You are an angel, Liz.”

“Noah, I basically turned down Connor’s marriage proposal, broke up with him and went straight into your arms in a matter of days.” She sighs guiltily. “No, we all just wear our demons differently.”

“Maybe. But you said it yourself, we are all just humans with our flaws and all. But you,” Noah turns and cups her cheeks in his hands. “you will always be an angel in my book. You saved me, Liz. When the whole world raised their torches and forks on me, you freaking saved me where you could have fed me to the mob. You’re the reason why I’m still here today and I love you for it, you hear me?” He pulls her into his arms when a tear starts to fall from her eye. 

“I’m so in love with you, Elizabeth Mortimer. Always have and always will.” He kisses her cheek. “You’re the kindest, most beautiful, the brightest human being I’ve ever known. I’m the luckiest person to have you be in love with me and if you’re up for it, I want to build a world around you.” He adds, “Instant noodles included.”

Liz laughs, still teary-eyed, shoves him playfully on the shoulder, feigning a glare. “You jerk. Always have the flair to ruin a moment.”

Noah chuckles. “Technically, you love instant noodles, so it’s only right, don’t you think?” She shoves him again. “And I’m your jerk now.”

“My jerk.” Yet she says it the same way someone says ‘my love’. “I love you too, Noah Marshall. And I want to build that world together with you.”

Noah smiles. Because he loves her and because for the first time in forever, his life makes fucking sense.  

Yes, he doesn’t know whether their relationship will last or will it crash and burn in the future, but at this exact moment, he’s happy and it seems that she does too. And that is all that matters now.

And if there is one thing that he’s sure of is that he knows that he doesn’t ever want to let this go. Not in a million years.

[yeet-man]

One's Rebirth (Chapter 7)

A/N: After 5 long ass months it's finally done. Hope y'all enjoy chapter 7 and till next time!

"It was a spar that was taken too far, I didn't mean-"

"Bullshit! You knew exactly what the hell you were doing!" J'me screamed with rage in his voice. His best friend dead and the person who killed him was giving a stupid reason. Adrenaline started flowing throughout his body and he was ready to attack at any given second.

Ryan kept silent and got ready to run at Charles. There was no reason for him to say any words, this was mostly between J'me and Charles.

"I know what it's like to lose someone trust me J'me, but listen to me when I say it was an accident." Charles tried his best to reason and stay calm in this situation.

J'me's rage grew rapidly as Charles continued opening that worthless excuse a mouth. He grabbed one of his kunai, gripped it tightly, ran forward a couple steps and threw it in front of him. Before Charles could react J'me was already in front of him and going for a punch to the jaw.

Even if his enemy had the ability to teleport, this didn't stun Charles at all. He grabbed J'me's punch, quickly grabbing his arm, turning around, tossing him over his shoulder and slamming J’me into the ground.

J’me’s body ached with pain after being slammed into the ground. He slowly got up onto his feet, kunai in hand as he winced. Every movement the boy took caused his body to throb. He ignored it for the time being, taking a couple steps forward, slashing at Charles’s face.

Expecting for J’me to be down and out after being slammed, Charles leaned back though not fully avoiding the kunai. A small trickle of blood fell from the tiny wound. The boy took a couple steps back and wiped the blood off his face. "Huh, you're really out to hurt me...I see." Charles smirked a little, when was the last time his life had been put in danger like this? He ran forward going for a wild right hook once he closed the distance between.

"You deserve death for your actions, but I was told to take you in so that's what I'll do by any means necessary." J'me put his kunai away, feeling regret as soon as it was out of sight. That didn't matter though for the time being. As Charles ran forward, J'me glanced over at Ryan and nodded slightly. J'me then teleported his friend to where he was while jumping upwards getting ready for a combo attack.

Ryan had just been standing there, thinking about how he was going to attack. "Yeah…" His voice was lower than normal as he agreed with what J'me had said. When J'me nodded at him, he simply nodded back with a slight smirk. "Let's do this J'me." For some reason he actually sounded a bit excited for once as purple flames snaked down his arm, swirling into the shape of a simple scythe. Without hesitation he dashed towards Charles, sending a wide horizontal slash at him, using the length of his scythe to his advantage.

As he saw Ryan form his flame scythe, J'me smirked knowing exactly what to do. Extending his arm down towards Charles, his palm showing while he muttered something under his breath. "Gale Palm!" A huge powerful blast of wind went from J'me's palm straight towards the enemy. Once the wind touched the fire from the scythe, the area in front of them was engulfed in a mini firestorm.

Charles chuckled to himself, his body making a passive barrier to protect him for the attack. The barrier cleared as he showed up in front of his opponent, his wild hook turning into an uppercut. His left hand knocking the flame scythe upwards, giving him a slight burn.

J'me's eyes widened with fear, they thought they had him for good that time. By the time the barrier had activated, he landed on the ground next to his friend. Pushing Ryan out the way and switching places with Mari before Charles could take his attack.

He didn't want Mari to take the attack, but this was the quickest thing he could think and do.

Ryan couldn't help but watch as Mari took the hit. "Fuck…" was the only word he could mutter.

The immortal girl took the hit head on without warning. She had been hit worse though, so it didn't hurt as much as it was supposed to be. Mari shoved Charles backwards before moving off to the side.

Charles smirked at the girl's action, being able to tank a hit like that huh? Well, a nice quirk that can be stolen. He ran forward stretching his arm out to grab her only to be stopped by Ryan.

J'me took this moment to gain the advantage, grabbing his kunai, throwing it behind Charles and teleporting to where the kunai was. He got into a low stance bringing his hand back, his hand starting to take a transformation of some sort. "I've never done this before, but it's worth a try." He looked at Ryan and just nodded, this was the finishing move hopefully. He began adding chakra to his arm, followed by wind, fire, lightning, water, earth. All five elements from the Naruto universe on his arm.

His arm started shaking, he knew he couldn't control it for much longer. It was time to finish this battle once and for all. "Ryan, Mari… get back. It's over Charles!" With a single movement, J'me launched his fist forward, all the elements unleashing at once with little to no chance stopping it.

Ryan held onto Charles as long as he could, making sure his opponent didn't touch. As soon as J'me told them to get back, he grabbed Mari and ran as fast as he could with the reaper. He stopped around the 100 meter mark so they could still watch.

Mari was confused with what was going on, but she didn't say anything but watch for the time being.

Charles was confused why Ryan ran off, turning around to see J'me say 'It's over Charles.' He looked at his opponents hand, "oh fuck…" BOOM! He was blown back from the punch, scratches on his body from the wind, burns that were caused by the lightning and fire. He felt heavy from the water and there was dirt all over him. He slid into the ground, laying there for a little while after he stopped.

J'me winced from the pain and held his wrist, it was most likely broken from all the pressure on it and his hand. He collapsed to his knees, letting out puffs of air trying to catch his breath. He wasted too much energy and started to suffer because of it.

Ryan picked up Mari and brought the both of them back to J'me. Once Mari was standing on her own, Ryan kneeled down and looked at his friend's wrist. "Dude, I'm pretty sure it's broken. But the move you did was pretty awesome."

"Yeah, I didn't know you could do something like that J'me. It truly was amazing." Mari smiled a little, brushing some hair behind her ear.

J'me let out a small chuckle as he slowly got back to his feet. "I didn't know… I had that in me." He kept trying to catch his breath even while standing. "But thanks. I wouldn't have… been able to do that… if it wasn't for y'all."

Charles couldn't help but let out a laugh loud of everyone to hear. He sat up, getting to his feet with ease despite his injuries. "You really thought that was enough to beat me? The only time you'll ever be able to beat me is in your dreams." He smirked, walking forward as everyone else watched in fear. Once he was in front of J'me, he grabbed the kunai that was on the ground and held out his free hand. "What was the one move you used? Oh yeah, Gale Palm bitch."

WOOSH

Another powerful blast of wind came from Charles's hand, pushing J'me backwards and into a boulder.

The only thing J'me could do was scream out in agony. Everything hurt. He didn't feel like moving at this point, just wanting to accept his defeat. He would, but a promise was made that he wasn't intending on breaking.

Slipping in and out of consciousness as he tried getting up. "Shit… is this really where everything comes to an end…"

Charles slowly started approaching J'me with the kunai in hand. If everyone wanted to believe he was a villain then so be it. He would show these people that he was one.

Ryan's body moved on it's own, jumping in front of his friend on the ground while Mari went to check on him. "If you come closer then you'll have to face me." The boy was serious, he wasn't going to sit around and watch his friend be injured.

Charles stopped where he was at, giving off a smirk towards the person in front of him. "Is that so? If we fight you'll end up just like J'me, completely fucked."

“Even if that’s the case as long as I take you down with me i’ll be fine.” Ryan raised his hands up, getting into a defensive stance.

“You truly think you’ll be able to take me down? If J’me wasn’t able to finish me off, what makes you think you can do it?" Charles questioned, gripping the stolen kunai tighter.

"No one...said I...was done with you...Charles." J'me was on his feet with the help of Mari. He slowly made his way to Ryan, leaning on his friends shoulder once next to him. "I'll be the way to take you down...and that's on my soul."

Ryan looked at his injured friend, shaking his head. "You can't go on like this, you'll kill yourself if you try to fight again. Let me take this over, I'm the only one who can do this."

"No, I'm the one doing this. I'll be fine-" His sentence was interrupted by him coughing up a little bit of blood. He stared at the red liquid for a couple seconds before speaking again. "Trust me on this Ryan."

Ryan was about to respond when he heard an all too familiar voice.

"J'ME!" Mei came running from behind the boulder she was watching at. She couldn't stand someone she cared about putting themselves through so many injuries like he did. "Please stop doing this to yourself J'me. Just let Ryan and one of my-" She stopped talking for some reason, seeming to be cut off.

J'me looked at Mei only to see a crimson liquid splash onto him. The color drained from the boys' face as he watched his girlfriend starting to fall to the floor. He immediately pushed off Ryan, somehow barely managing to catch Mei before she hit the ground. The boy slowly settled Mei on to the ground, applying pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding.

As Mei fell to the floor, Charles walked a bit closer to the group. The stolen Kunai he had, stained in red. "What's the problem? Is your mechanic bitch dying?" He smirked, knowing that she was. But, J'me should consider himself lucky since he struck at the stomach instead of the kidney.

Before J'me could speak again, Mei had some words to say herself. "J'me listen to me, I'll be okay." She smiled before slowly digging into her pockets and pulling out a bracelet. "Besides, I just came here to give you this. I thought it would be of use to you in battle. If you press this button it makes a gauntlet around the arm it's on. And if you press it again it turns into a shield." Mei placed the bracelet inside his hand, "Now, go win J'me. I believe in you."

J'me slowly got to his feet, putting on the bracelet Mei gave him. He kept looking at her as he spoke out loud, "Some people in this world truly disgust me."

It was quiet for a couple seconds before J'me spoke up again. "Ryan, take Mei to the hospital. While you're doing that I'll take down Charles."

Ryan did as his friend said, he knew better than to question him while J'me was pissed like this. He picked up Mei with care, making sure the stab wound didn't get worse before applying pressure to it and dashing off at incredible speeds to the nearest hospital.

J'me pulled out his extra kunai and handed it to Mari, "I refuse to use a weapon that was used to hurt someone I care about. That's yours for the time being, take care of it." With that he turned back around, not caring about the pain he was in.

Charles just smirked, it wasn't like J'me could actually do some damage to him with the condition he was in. "Without that weapon you're screwed, just give up." It was fun messing around with J'me and for once, Charles liked the idea of being a villain.

J'me stayed quiet as he let out a breath of air. Every movement, every step he took made him wince in pain. But there were reasons he kept moving, enduring every hit. "You're forgetting one thing jackass."

"Oh? And what's that? Is it that you can't win? Because I already know that." Charles held the

kunai up ready to strike as soon as J'me moved.

"No-" What seemed to be a blinding blue bolt of lightning flashed where J'me once was, followed by the thunderous crack and boom it was infamous for. In the instant the bolt came down the boy disappeared, reappearing in front of his enemy. "You forgot I can teleport dipshit!" Not wasting any time, J'me kicked Charles across the face with everything he could.

If Charles had to give J'me props for one thing, it would be the element of surprise. He did not expect for J'me to pull something like that. After all this time why was he still fighting? It made no sense to him at all. All these thoughts flew through his head as he staggered back from the kick. He held the part that was hit and just stared for a second, "I guess I underestimated you. That won't happen again."

"Shut up. You don't get to speak anymore bitch." J'me was surprisingly calm, he held out his uninjured hand and muttered a single word, "Chidori." A ball of uncontrollable lightning formed on his hand, the sound of a thousand birds coming from it. This jutsu alone had enough power to tear through someone with ease, but there was one problem. With how it was made, the lightning spiking all around him, it made everything a blur.

J'me didn't want to keep wasting time, running what seemed to be forward, the boy launched to the blurry Charles. 'Let this hit please!'

Charles chuckled as he watched J'me run forward, side stepping out the way and grabbing his opponents' wrist. "Come on? Is this really all you have? Pathetic." Kneeing the boy in the stomach, Charles had no remorse for J'me anymore.

J'me slowly fell down to the floor, holding his abdomen as he winced in pain. Was this it? Ryan had taken Mei to the hospital and Mari's quirk was made for defense only. The word 'pathetic' raced through his mind as he laid against the ground.

Charles rolled J'me over with his foot and kicked him in the side over and over. "Really? You're a so-called hero? That's pathetic, you're weak and should die just like Kairo."

J'me lowered his arms, letting himself get kicked after hearing his late friends' name. Maybe he was pathetic, after all he did let his friend die.

Ryan finally showed back up after dropping Mei off at the hospital. The first thing he saw was Mari holding one of J'me's kunai, her hands close to her chest as she had a horrified experission on her face. He slowly turned to face the action and he saw something he would never forget. Charles stomping on J'me. Ryan ran forward, knocking Charles off J'me and on to the ground.

He got on top of the enemy and opened a can of whoop ass on Charles with no sign of stopping.

Mari snapped out of her horrified state and ran over towards Ryan, pulling him off of Charles. "We were told to bring him in, not kill him Ryan. It's not worth going to jail for this, just go get the quirk cancelling cuffs and put them on him."

Ryan would be dragged off of Charles, slightly breathing heavy. All he did was nod and did what Mari said. He grabbed the cuffs from J'me's bag and put them on Charles, "It's over. You won't ever hurt anyone again." Ryan and Mari went over to check on J'me, leaving their enemy unattended.

J'me slowly tried his best to sit up, holding his ribs and wincing from the pain. "Don't worry about me, focus on Charles. I'll be fine, I just need a minute."

The sound of metal screeching interrupted them from checking on their friend. J'me was the first one to see what happened, his face went white from what he saw.

"Did you really think these cuffs would stop me?" There stood Charles with broken cuffs. He then shattered them off his wrists. "I'm on a completely different level than you thought Ryan. I am a god in this world, you will never beat me."

Ryan's face went blank as he turned around, the killing intent in his eyes now showing. “How would you feel if I burned you alive then?”

Mari knew it was pointless to stop Ryan again. She kneeled down beside J'me, making him lay back down and placing her hands over his chest. From there a green glow was emitted from the immortals hands, the glow seemed to act as if it was healing the boy.

"If I learned anything from my brother before he died, it's that real heroes never die!" A few seconds passed before the glow seemingly faded away. "I gave you my immortality for only a small bit of time, I believe you and Ryan can do this. Take down that monster before it's too late!"

J’me simply nodded at Mari, getting up on his feet and walking over towards his friend. “A god? Just because we were going easy on you does not make you a god. We were told to bring you in, but now I feel like killing you. Ryan, let’s end this.”

“I am a god, I’ve been going easy on the two of y’all as well.” Charles smirked before snapping his fingers, that same green glow now appearing on him as well. “You see, my quirk is basically One for All but better. I’m able to steal quirks without touching the user, I just have to see it in action. I can also upgrade them, but the only problem is the quirk I take remains in the user's body.”

Ryan’s murderous intent only seemed to grow stronger as heat began to flow around his body. “What the hell kind of ‘god’ kills others for fun?” Ryan’s tone shifted into a deeper one as bones sprouted all around his body, deep purple flames began to flick up off of him, eventually exploding out in one big puff. However, as the flames calmed a little, Ryan could be seen within them and his reaper form was in full affect. “J’me, whenever you’re ready…” Ryan’s voice was raspy and aged, yet the sound of pure annoyance was gently laced in his tone. After all, his quirk made him just like a God of Death, so Charles claiming to be one seemed to really set him off after everything he’s done.

J’me just chuckled as vicious winds surrounded him, making the boy levitate in the air. He took on a divine stance as he floated in the air because of the wind. “To think we once trusted you. Burn in the depths of hell bitch, someone like you deserves a death sentence and luckily for you we’re gonna grant you that.” His voice was filled with anger and why shouldn’t be? The person in front of him killed his best friend and injured someone he loved, not to mention claiming to be a god. “It’s time we end this Ryan.” He held up his hand and the vicious winds shot forward at the enemy.

At the same time Ryan held his hand and the purple flames shot forward, combining with the wind and creating a huge firestorm. “Blazing Inferno…” The two said in unison.

The firestorm engulfed Charles and he just stood there, letting it happen with a smirk on his face. There was a reason he let himself get injured.

J’me turned around and started walking away, “Are you coming or not Ryan?” He waved to Mari to grab his bag.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here before anyone sees us.” Ryan turned around and walked with J’me, the flames shining a bright purple as it ‘burned’ Charles.

Once Mari grabbed J’me’s bag, he teleported the three of them back to U.A.

After a couple minutes the firestorm calmed down and Charles walked out grinning and with no injuries. “They should have believed me when I said I could take quirks after seeing them in action. It is a shame they couldn’t stay for long though.” With that Charles left the scene before heroes showed up.

After being teleported J’me, Ryan, and Mari popped in the workshop that was inside of U.A.

J’me grabbed his bag from Mari, “Don’t ask me why I have a seal in there. That story can be told another day. For now though, let’s go to USJ and hope we aren’t late. Oh, and let me remove those seals since we’re done.” He placed his hands on Ryan and Mari’s shoulder, closing his eyes for a couple of seconds. When he opened his eyes the seals were gone and he dropped his hands back to his side.

“Okay, if we’re done can you answer my questions from earlier? What did you mean that I’m only here because of the two of you? And who is Charles?” Mari wanted to get to the bottom of some things for her sake.

Ryan looked away since he didn’t feel like explaining and J’me let out a small sigh and scratched the back of his neck.

“So, as you know me and Ryan aren’t from this universe. We were transferred here for some reason we don’t know yet. Anyway, in our world this universe is a show called ‘My Hero Academia’. And in that show you aren’t in it, that was till we got here. Once we got here so did you and I don’t know why. As for your second question. Charles was our friend, I guess he was transferred here with us. I hope that cleared some things up.” J’me started walking towards the door since they had to get to USJ fast.

Ryan followed behind J’me, leaving Mari alone to her thoughts. “Hey, what are we doing after the USJ incident? We better hope Charles isn’t dead or else we’ll be kicked out of here.”

“I know, I’m not dumb dude. Besides, it’s safe to say he probably made it out alive somehow. We can worry about him another time. As long as we give Aizawa information about Charles, shit should be okay.” The two of them left and started heading to USJ.

Meanwhile Mari stayed back for a couple minutes questioning some stuff. If Charles was their friend, why did he kill Kairo? What universe was she in before they got here? Some things were cleared up while new questions started to form because of it. She let out a sigh and ran to catch up to J’me and Ryan.

[jofabray]

Punishment || Jolia 08.30

Tagging: Jo Fabray and DJ Berry( @submissivedjberry)​

Date: August 30

Location: Jo’s Suite

Summary: Consequences

Jo

Jo was...there weren't words.  Incandescent with rage didn't begin to cover it.  Archer had run his stupid mouth to someone she cared about, and in the process dragged in someone she cared about even more.  And rather than putting a stop to it, his "dom" had mouthed off to her, refused a title, and then let things escalate even further.  And now she was in the position of having to punish DJ for doing the right thing, and it made her more furious than she'd ever been.  But the Headmaster had been involved, and there simply wasn't any choice left. Stepping into the bedroom, she let out a calming breath and closed the door.  "Dalia," she spoke in a shaky voice.  "I need your consent before we go any further tonight.  And if y'all never want to see me again when we're done, I'll understand that.  But we need to get this done."

DJ

The night had gone from perfect to terrible in what felt like a matter of moments. And she couldn't help but feel like everything was tumbling down around her. Jo was angry. Extremely enraged. And part of that was directed at DJ and she hated every second of it. She was kneeling in the bedroom, head down as tears streamed down her cheeks. She was angry and hurt and scared. This would be her first punishment at the Institute. But more than that her first punishment with Jo. And it felt like a serious one. The words "never see me again" caused a sharp inhale of breath as she felt her heart ache terribly. She was about to just consent when the conversation they had had before came into her mind. "May I know what that punishment it, please, Miss Jo?" Her eyes hadn't left the floor and her voice was trembling but she was doing her best.

Jo

"You may.  And good girl for askin', because I should have told you."  She could so easily slide back into an hour before, when things were easy and simple.  "Tonight was a mess, from the top to the bottom.  What it was not was your fault.  So if that thought is in your head, I'd like to pry it out right now.  This punishment is not for speakin' up for your friend.  It is not for standin' up to Archer for sayin' something disgusting.  It's certainly not for standin' up to Ryder, who couldn't just let a situation that was already defused burn itself out.  I am proud of you.  Y'all are a good friend, and a brave woman.  And there's nothing wrong with those qualities." Jo sighed.  "The reason I need to punish you tonight is that I was tryin' to put out fires before the smoke caught the attention of people we didn't need lookin' at us.  As such, I gave you direct orders.  To stop talkin', to stop engagin', and to walk away.  More than once, in fact.  And ya didn't.  You disobeyed me.  Very publicly.  And kept getting involved.  And like I said - you were doin' the right thing, so do not confuse what this punishment is about." Taking a seat on the bed, she reached out and laid a hand on DJ's shoulder.  "Your punishment will be fifteen open handed spanks, fifteen spanks with a paddle, and ten with a cane.  When the spanking is completed I want y'all to kneel in the corner for fifteen minutes and think about what happened tonight, and why I have to punish you.  After that, I will provide aftercare and y'all can decide if you want to be with me tonight.  Will you consent?"

DJ

The tears felt like they would never stop as she kept staring down at her thighs. She felt like she could be sick. Felt like at any moment everything she had been working towards could just tumble around her and there would be nothing that she could do to stop it. She listened as Jo spoke, though the words were slightly drowned out by the unease, worry, and anger that she still felt. She already felt so tired and the punishment hadn't even begun. Her body trembled as Jo explained why she was being punished. She said time and time again that she respected her Domme. That she cared about her. That she wanted to be hers. And the one time that Jo had given her a blatant, public, order she had ignored it. A sob ripped from her lips. She really wasn't worthy of Jo. The night had just proved it. She had half a mind to pull away from the hand on her shoulder but she didn't want to do that. If this was one of the last caring touches that she would get, she wanted to enjoy it. "I consent, Miss."

Jo

The sob split her to her soul, and Jo struggled to breathe.  This wasn't what she'd wanted to be.  This Domme.  She was caring.  She looked after people under her orders, made sure that they were healthy and taken care of.  And that she'd managed to make DJ produce that sound made a lie of everything she believed she was.  It made her Russell.  And the thought of it made her blood run cold. "That's my girl," she nodded.  DJ was scared and hurt, but she was brave enough to accept her punishment without complaint.  "Collect my paddle and one of the canes from the toy chest and hand them to me.  Then strip, please, and lay down over my lap."  Once DJ was in position, warm against her, Jo ran a hand gently across her ass.  "Y'all don't have to count, or thank me.  If ya need something to bite down on, just say so." Trying desperately to shake the worry about what she was doing, Jo breathed out.  "We'll begin now.  Deep breaths."  Bringing her hand down produced a solid smack that sounded much too loud in the quiet room.  She added four more, leaving them ten to go, and paused to check on DJ.

DJ

She stood up slowly and moved to the toy chest.  She dug through until she found exactly what she needed and then made her way back. She got to her knees and presented the items to the Domme before standing to remove her clothing. She folded them carefully and then placed herself over the Domme's lap. The tears hadn't stopped falling and she was sure that they wouldn't anytime soon. Especially not throughout the punishment itself. She tried to breath deeply but it was far from even and that was a challenge for her. But she wasn't going to make Jo stop. She deserved this. And she would take her punishment. And hopefully somehow convince Jo that she was good enough to stay.  The smacks against her ass were far from the enjoyable ones they had had in the past and she gasped sharply with each smack.

Jo

As the delicate skin of DJ's ass began to redden, Jo had to fight every instinct.  Every single part of her wanted to end what they were doing, to call the punishment complete and simply resume their lives.  But this mattered.  And it was important.  And she needed to know that a punishment could be administered without turning her into the monster that she always feared she might be.  Because if there was a hint of that, even one, then she could never trust herself with a submissive again.  Not for a single minute.  There was no sign from DJ that things had to stop, and so Jo administered the next five. Giving Dalia a short time to breathe, Jo shook out her wrist and counted out the last five.  DJ's skin looked red but not overly so, and there was no broken skin or blood vessels that she could see.  So far, so good.  She could hear her girl crying, the breath catching in her throat, and Jo set a hand on her lower back.  "Catch your breath for me, Dalia.  Take your time.  Ya don't have to talk, but when you're ready put your right hand up for me and we'll move onto the paddle."

DJ

While not counting outloud, she did count within her head to ket her know where they were at. She needed something to keep her grounded and that was the only thing that felt like it would do the job. The sound of her first name coming from Jo caused another sob to burst from her, her skin flushed with embarrassment. DJ didn't take much time to catch her breath. It wasn't like she could really catch her breath with the tears falling anyway. And the faster they moved onto the next, the faster they could be done. The fast DJ could prove to Jo that she could follow instructions. Her right hand lifted long enough for Jo to let her know that she had noticed before her hand dropped down again, eyes shut tight. After the paddle came the cane and she really wasn't looking forward to that. The first swat of her as with the paddle caused her to jump slightly, her teeth finding her bottom lip.

Jo

Jo's hands busied themselves in the blankets as DJ recovered, trying to keep from stroking her hair or patting her back.  This had to be separated from their usual interactions, and that meant no pet names and no comfort until it was over.  Because if a punishment bled into a real and emotional conversation then it would do precisely no good for either of them. The spanks with the paddle were quicker.  Jo wanted the punishment over with, and lingering between the blows would only make the pain worse.  Five on one side were followed by five on the other, and the last five spread between them.  "Very good," she murmured, looking down at the now angrily red skin of DJ's ass.  "You're taking your punishment well, and we're almost through here.  I know we haven't used a cane before, but I will keep you safe even in a punishment.  Y'all have my word.  Again - when you're ready, raise your hand for me."

DJ

DJ was glad that Jo hadn't taken her time with the paddle. Her ass was stinging, and each hit with the paddle causing her body to jerk with the force. She was just glad that currently the pain, at least physical, wasn't anything worse than what she had experienced before. The emotional pain though, she could do without that. Her body trembled at the thought of the cane. She didn't want it. She just wanted to curl up into a ball and be done. This wasn't how Jo was supposed to be touching her that night. She had fucked everything up. She had been bad. Her arm lifted again before it dropped back down, her hands curling into fists as her teeth cut into her bottom lip slightly.

Jo

Jo was inexperienced with the cane.  She knew the basics, had held one and swung one, but hadn't actually used it in a scene.  The only reason she'd included it in the punishment was that she'd promised a punishment that was appropriate for the crime, and that punishment needed to be more severe than something that they'd do in a play session.  She was cold all over, her heart hammering in her chest, and as she hefted the cane she prayed that she could be the Domme she wanted and not the Domme she feared becoming. With a careful, mechanically precise swing, she brought it down across DJ's ass.  It left an angry red mark, but she gave it a careful once over to be sure that the damage wasn't excessive in any way.  Satisfied of that Jo strung four more of them together, allowed a very short pause for DJ to breathe, and finished them up as quickly as possible before tossing it aside like the cane was hot and burning her hands.  "You did very well, Dalia.  Really, really well.  You're taking your punishment so well for me.  Stay here with me in my lap until you feel ready to go and kneel - there's no rush, and I'm not going to make you go before you're ready."

DJ

The sharp hit of the cane to her ass was one that brought out a yelp as her hands reached to grab onto nothing. She couldn't hold onto Jo, couldn't hold onto the bed, and so her hands curled into fists again as the cane was brought down again and again. The cane had brought a deeper and more unforgiving pain and each hit had her squirming, but not in a fun way. When Jo took a pause between each set of hits, DJ sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, the slight metallic taste of blood surprising her. The last five hits of the cane were a painful blur and she was left with a red and bruising ass, a mess of tears and snot on her face,  a bloody lip, and a huge knot in her stomach. When Jo said she could stay there until she was ready to move, DJ's lip trembled. She didn't want to wait too long and upset her. But if this was going to be the last time she could be close to her, she was trying to experience every moment. When she felt like she had waited almost too long, DJ rolled off of Jo, hiding her face as she moved to the corner and knelt down. She rubbed at her face but it did no good as the tears hadn't stopped. So she leaned forward and pressed her forehead to the wall.

Jo

"Good girl," Jo's voice broke.  "Fifteen minutes.  I'll be right here with you the whole time."  She set her clock to buzz when the time was up and buried her face in her hands, trying valiantly to breathe and coming up short.  She'd been reasonable, she hoped, in both the punishment and the force applied, but she couldn't help the gnawing sensation that if she looked in the mirror she'd see someone else's reflection.  The one person she couldn't stand to become.  As DJ knelt and the minutes ticked by, her breathing turned more and more shallow until she felt as if she couldn't get enough oxygen in her lungs.  All she could do was try not to pass out, not when DJ's safety was at stake. After what seemed like an eternity, her clock began to buzz.  "Punishment is over now, darlin' girl."  With its end came the return of her nicknames.  "When you're ready, come back over to me and we'll get your aftercare taken care of.  But it's over, and you're forgiven, and that's all."

DJ

All she could think about during the kneeling portion of her punishment was that Jo was going to leave her. She had proven that she didn't deserve her and now she would lose the best thing that had ever happened to her. She felt like she was going to be sick. The return of the nickname almost hurt more than it helped, not sure of its meaning. She needed to stay kneeling for a few moments after Jo told her that the punishment was over. Her bottom lip was still trembling and the world still felt like it was tilted on its axis. She wiped at her face again and then slowly moved to kneel in front of Jo again. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth again, trying to sooth the sting.

Jo

Jo took in the sight of her, and the world went an ugly shade of grey around the edges.  DJ looked exactly like she'd feared.  Bloody, blotchy, and frightened.  She really was the awful Dominant she'd feared.  Tears slid down her cheeks as she tried to find her voice.  "Good girl.  I am so proud.  I'm going to get a warm towel to clean up your face," her voice sounded like it was coming from a long, long way away.  "I'll get your lip fixed up, and then put some cream on your..." she trailed off, chest hitching as she struggled to breathe.  "Put some cream on your butt.  Okay?  I just need to go to the bathroom, I'll only be gone for a second."  Assuming, of course, that she didn't stand up and immediately pass out.

DJ

Jo looked so sad. So scared. And DJ hated that she had done that to hear. Seeing Jo sitting there, looking like that, just absolutely broke her heart in two. All she heard when Jo was speaking was her saying that she was leaving. And that caused panic to well up within her as she reached out to grab Jo's pants before her hand ripped back. She hadn't been told she could touch. "No..no. Please, don't leave me. Stay. Please. I'm sorry. I'll be better. I'll do better. I'll do anything you want. Don't leave me. Please." She felt her breathing become shorter and sharper as she stared up at the Domme. "I can't lose you."

Jo

Jo's eyes widened.  She should have realized what it might sound like in DJ's emotional state, and it was just one more failure to tack onto her list for the night.  "Whoa - whoa, darlin', it's okay.  It's alright.  My darlin' girl, I'm not leavin' you.  I just wanted to get the first aid kit.  C'mere," she gestured, patting her lap.  "C'mere, I've got ya.  My girl, I'm not leavin' unless that's what you want."  Helping DJ carefully into her, Jo began to cry in earnest.  She'd never felt so awful in her life.  "Not leavin'.  I swear it."

DJ

She straddled the Domme, doing her best not to put any pressure on her as as she wrapped her arms around the blonde and nuzzled into the Domme's neck. She felt bad that she was making a mess, but she also needed to be close. She needed to be reminded that Jo was there, that she wasn't going anywhere, that she didn't want to leave her. DJ wasn't sure how Jo could still want her after she had blatantly disrespected her, but she didn't want to convince her that she should leave, because she would probably easily be able to do so. "I'm s-sorry. I didn't mean....I was so bad to you."

Jo

"There we go," Jo murmured through her tears.  "My girl.  My darlin'."  She couldn't quite string a thought together, at least until DJ tried to apologize.  "Hey, no," she shook her head.  "Y'all weren't bad to me.  Made a mistake, sure.  But if ya were bad you wouldn't care about that."  Her breathing was labored, but she needed to talk.  "You're a good girl, darlin'.  My good girl.  Ya made a mistake, you took your punishment, and now it's over.  No more apologies.  No more hurt.  I've got ya.  If that's what you want."  The alternative scared her more than anything, but it had to be presented as an option.  It felt for all the world like she'd beaten and bloodied someone she was meant to look after, and so Jo needed to know that leaving wasn't what DJ was after.

DJ

"Y-yours." She responded, her grip tight and unrelenting. She needed this closeness more than anything else. When Jo offered the option of her leaving, she shook hear head fervently. "I'm yours. I don't want to be anything but yours. I'm sorry I didn't listen. I was just so m-mad. But I should have listened to you and followed your orders. And I just screwed everything up. Wh-what if they think I'm not a good sub and I don't deserve a dominant now?" Her breathing starting to hitch again as the panic welled. What if she had just ruined their chances of a trial claim? The only thing she had been aiming towards.

Jo

Jo wept again, this time with relief.  "Then y'all are mine, darlin'.  All mine."  She kissed her wet cheek and pressed their heads together.  "I know ya were.  I know it wasn't on purpose, and that y'all weren't tryin' to undermine me or make me look bad."  When DJ began to panic once more, Jo took one of her hands to rest it on her heart.  "Breathe with me, okay?  Nice and slow."  Ironically Jo's own heart was pounding so fast she wondered if she was having some kind of cardiac event, but she could fake slow breathing for at least long enough.  "They won't think that.  The Headmaster, he..." she shut her eyes, trying to work through everything in her head.  "He thought I handled myself well.  I promised that I'd look after your punishment.  That's all we need to do.  They know that everyone has to learn.  And nobody goes through this without gettin' punished.  We're gonna be okay."

DJ

Her eyes closed as the Domme pressed their foreheads together and she let out a shaky breath. She couldn't breathe properly. Felt like she hadn't breathed properly in an hour and she didn't know how to make it ease. She tried to follow her Domme's breathing as she modeled what DJ should be doing. She listened to Jo's words, breathing shakily. "But that says something about you. Not about me. I was bad. I should have just...stopped when you told me. I don't...I don't know why I didnt." She pulled back to look at her Domme, swallowing harshly. "I wasn't who you deserve."

Jo

"Because you were angry, and you were upset.  Not only had one person hurt your friend, two people had."  Looking into her eyes, Jo reached up to brush hair from her face.  "Darlin' girl.  I want you to hear this.  I don't want a perfect submissive.  Because there's no such thing.  I want a human bein'.  Humans make mistakes.  They do the wrong thing.  They say the wrong thing.  Bein' in a claim means that when that happens, I n-need to punish you.  But when I do, the punishment happens and then it's over.  I'm not upset with you, my girl.  I'm upset with me."

DJ

Her eyes fluttered closed when Jo's fingers moved hair away from her face. Her eyes opened when Jo began to speak to her again and she swallowed. Her mind knew all of these things, but her heart was having a difficult time remembering it, especially with the look on Jo's face. She furrowed her eyebrows when Jo said that she was mad at herself, shaking her head. "Why...why are you upset with yourself, Miss?" The tears had slowed and she whiped at her face again, trying to chill out at least a little bit.

Jo

Jo's mouth opened and closed a few times, and tears spilled from her eyes as she tried to say what was on her mind.  "Because I scare myself," she finally whispered.  "Because I look at your face right now and you're bloody and sad and scared and all I c-c-" wincing, she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and tried to find her voice.  "All I can think is that ya look like I must have looked, or like Mama must have looked, when Daddy took after us.  I'm afraid that I don't know how to punish you when I have to without making it worse than it's supposed to be.  And I'm angry at myself for making ya look like that and feel that way."

DJ

She shook her head and she tangled her fingers in her Domme's hair. "You aren't your father. I did something bad. And you needed to punish me for it. You gave me chances and I didn't listen. My lip is my fault. Not yours. I bit into it when I was trying not to make a lot of noise. So please don't worry about it. And the tears...you didn't hurt my ass more than I deserved. I was just...really upset that I made you have to do this. I didn't want to lose you." She breathed, nails scratching along her Domme's scalp. She needed the attention and care just as much as DJ did in that moment. And she hoped she could do it for her. "I still want you. Always. As long as you want me."

Jo

Burying her face in her girl's neck, Jo let some of the tears out and felt some of the tension drain from her as DJ's fingers worked their magic against her head.  Her chest loosened a little and breathing started to become easier, and she was once again incredibly grateful for the submissive in her arms.  They had found each other at the right time and the right place, and without her Jo knew she wouldn't be half the dominant she was.  "You're never going to lose me," she promised, lips moving against DJ's skin.  "I'm always going to want you.  And I want to put my collar around your neck for the rest of our lives.  A punishment don't change that.  A bad night or a bad day don't either.  You're my girl."

DJ

She breathed out slowly at the feeling of Jo's lips moving against her neck, letting the words soothe  the ache in her chest. There was a lot that she needed to work through. But Jo still wanted her and that was everything that she could have asked for. "Yours. And you're my Domme. The only one that I'll ever have. The only one I'll ever truly want." There was always the possibility that Jo could find someone the way that things had happened with Nate and his boyfriend. But until that became a thing, DJ's entire focus was Jo. And getting better. And being someone that Jo could be proud of.

Jo

"I'm your Domme," Jo confirmed, confidence in her voice for the first time that night.  "I will never share y'all with anyone.  I don't want to, and I never will.  I want your heart, your mind and your spirit to be with me always, and I'm never gonna think anyone else is worthy of you.  They may get to scene with you, they may get to take up some of your time.  But they don't get you.  I do.  And I am so damn proud to know that."

DJ

She hummed at her words. "You don't want to share me with anyone at all, my Miss?" She questioned, toying with her hair as she tried to breathe. The panic and tension and begun to break and what she was left was exhaustion and a need to be hugged and told that everything would be okay. "You have my heart. You have my soul. You have every part of me. Even the silly parts that get me in trouble."

Jo

"No, my darlin' girl.  Not anyone.  And if that was ever gonna change, we would have a good long talk about it before it ever did."  She couldn't imagine sharing DJ, because even the thought of it made her tense.  "I love your silly parts," Jo promised.  "All of your parts.  They're all wonderful parts."  Her grip tightened around DJ, just a little.  "And you're not in trouble anymore.  You've had your punishment.  And now I'm goin' to take care of you.  For the rest of our time together, you're not gonna have to think about this.  I'm gonna make ya a cup of my famous hot chocolate with the very last of my mix, and put marshmallows in it, and we're gonna find something fun to put on TV to watch together.  But before we do that, we need to do your aftercare.  Make sure y'all are going to heal up properly."

DJ

"Nice, long talk before anything like that happens. Okay. I can deal with that." She said with a soft nod of her head. "Okay, I'll try to stop talking about it." If Jo didn't want to discuss it anymore then DJ would keep her mouth shut. Not doing so had gotten her in a lot of trouble and she didn't want a consecutive punishment. "You love that hot chocolate though, Miss. I don't want to take it from you." DJ expressed, biting down on her bottom lip. She nodded when Jo said that they needed to do aftercare. She didn't  want to move away from her, but she was ready to have the cream. She eased off of her Domme and carefully laid down on her stomach on the bed with a soft sigh.

Jo

“I didn’t say that, darlin’ girl.  If there are things on your mind and ya haven’t been ordered otherwise, you can talk to me about anything.  Whenever you want.”  The protest made her smile, and she kissed DJ’s temple.  “It’s worth it if it can make tonight better, my girl.  Because ya mean more to me than any cup of cocoa.”  When DJ got off of her Jo headed for the bathroom and found the first aid kit, carrying it back into the bedroom and hissing under her breath at how reddened Dalia’s skin was.  “This is gonna smart, darlin’.  But it’ll be worth it.  Just tell me if you need to stop.”

DJ

"Okay. Do you...do you mind if we do the teasing and denial another time, my Miss? I'm just not sure I feel up to it." She would do it if Jo really wanted, but she didn't know if she could handle doing it and making another mistake. "We could share a cup of hot chocolate, my Miss. Because it's been a hard day for you too. And you should get to have your favorite hot chocolate. And I don't think any kisses from me will do it justice." She mused with a slight smile. "Miss...may I please have a cloth to wash my face too?" She questioned as she heard Jo walk back into the room. She should have asked before she left, but she hadn't thought of it. "It's okay...I'm ready." She uttered, gripping the bed sheets tightly.

Jo

“I don’t mind a single bit.  And you are such a good girl for askin’.  It’s not what I want either - right now I just wanna hold ya.”  Her girl really was the sweetest girl, and she couldn’t help but steal one more kiss.  “That is a fair deal, darlin’ - although you’d be surprised what your kisses can do.”  DJ’s request was smart, but one she was already thinking of when it was asked.  “We’ll get your face cleaned up next,” she promised.  “I want to have a look at your lip.”  Gently, she began rubbing a calming salve into DJ’s skin.

DJ

"Thank you, Miss Jo." DJ said very appreciative. As lips pressed to her own, DJ breathed out shakily. She had been worried she would never get another kiss. She nodded when Jo said they would clean her face after they checked out her ass, sighing deeply. She didn't think her lip was too bad, but she wasn't going to argue about having it get checked out. She winced as Jo let the salve rub into her skin, trying not to cry out. She didn't want her Domme feeling worse than she already did.

Jo

"You're so welcome, darlin' girl.  I always want to know if somethin' we've planned is more than you can take, or y'all just aren't in the mood for it.  The teasin' and denial is meant to be fun, and tonight it wouldn't be for either of us, so we're not gonna do that.  Instead we're gonna take tonight and just make it ours."  She could see the tension in DJ's body as she was touched, and it hurt to watch - but this part would make things better, and they both had to suffer through it to come out the other side.  "I've got ya," she promised softly.  "Won't be but a minute.  Two shakes of a lamb's tail, as Mama used to say."  It was a stupidly southern expression, but Jo wanted to talk.  To let DJ hear her voice and know that everything was going to be all right.  "I'd offer to sing while I do this, but I think we both know that'd be an awful plan.  Only make ya feel worse."

DJ

"I know it has to be done. I'm okay. I can handle it." She giggled softly when Jo spoke about being willing to sing for her and she shook her head. "It wouldn't make me feel worse. But I do just like hearing you talk to me. Your voice is soothing just as it is. Because it's the voice of my Domme. The one who makes everything better." She breathed out slowly. Her eyes were shut as she gripped the bed sheets, waiting for it to be over.

Jo

"I know ya can, darlin'.  My girl can handle anythin', because she's brave and courageous and wonderful in every way."  Hearing DJ's laugh after the night they'd had was the most wonderful thing she'd experienced in a long while.  "You're sweet to say so."  Her explanation of why she liked hearing Jo talk brought fresh tears to her eyes, but they were happy ones.  "I will always try to make everythin' better, my girl.  Always."  She kept rubbing in the salve, changing conversation topics.  "What do y'all think the first thing we should do in Bay is?  I want to show you the hotel, but that can wait.  I think I vote for me takin' you home.  To the little place we're gonna buy.  I know just the spot, right on the water and peaceful as can be.  We'll sit on the dock and sip our hot chocolate and listen to the waves roll in, and we won't have to worry about a thing.  Not ever."  She finished up the last of the salve and put a comforting hand on DJ's back.  "When you feel up to it, let's go check out your lip."

DJ

"You think very highly of me and I don't think that I deserve it. But you're really sweet to me to say so." The submissive mused. She hummed. "I know you will. I trust you." DJ said quietly. "That sounds perfect. I love the idea of living on the water, Domina. But I'm going to need to kiss you lots in our new home before we go and sit on the dock. But then we can do that. Because that sounds so peaceful." DJ breathed, letting the picture that Jo was painting form behind her eyelids. She took a few moments and then eased herself up, licking at her bottom lip. "Ready."

Jo

"Then I'm just going to have to work hard to convince y'all that you do, my girl.  Because you deserve everythin' that I can give ya, the whole world if I could."  Being trusted - after everything that had happened - was a better feeling than she could have imagined.  She knew that they had hurt to work through still, both of them, but they had come so far.  DJ had taken a punishment and known it wasn't the end of the world.  Jo had given one, and not turned into her father.  And those were huge steps forward for the both of them, working through issues that might have caused more trouble down the line.  "You make an excellent point, darlin' girl.  We'll need to at least kiss in every room of the house before we go and kiss outside.  It's goin' to be peaceful, and calm, and no one's ever gonna trouble us there.  Just us and the fish."  Once DJ was sat up, Jo wet a cloth with some clean water and began to slowly brush her face clean.  It hurt, it ached, just how beautiful DJ was.  When the cloth reached her lip her motions became slow, small, and deliberate.  "I don't...think it's going to need anythin'," she murmured.  "But I still feel like I should do something to help it."

DJ

"I'm really just glad that you feel that way about me. And that tonight didn't change that." The night was painful and overwhelming, but it had made her much more confident in the relationship she had with Jo. She grinned when Jo mentioned that they would have to kiss in every room of the house before they went outside and she nodded. "And you should definitely fuck me...at least once...in every room before we have some fun outside." She suggested. Her eyes fell shut and she let the vloth move over her face. It was simple  and yet felt so intimate. When Jo said that she still felt like she should do something to help it, she leaned forward. "Can I have another kiss please? I think that would help a lot." DJ mused gently, quirking her eyebrow. She was sure that it would sting. But it would be worth it to have Jo's lips on her own, no matter how briefly.

Jo

Jo's eyes widened.  "Tonight didn't change a thing, my girl.  Punishments are somethin' that'll happen sometimes, as much as we both wish otherwise.  Tonight we learned we can get through them, and we can bend without breakin'.  They will never change the way I feel about y'all.  Ever."  She grinned widely at DJ's suggestion, giving her an eager nod.  "That is one hell of an idea, darlin'.  We need to write that one down and make sure that it's the very first thing we do, soon as the door is locked behind us."  Despite everything, all of the fear and the hurt, Jo giggled at DJ's suggestion.  "I mean if it would help, who am I to say no?"  Leaning in, she pressed her lips - gently - against Dalia's with all of the love and tenderness that her girl made her feel.

DJ

"Thank you for saying that. Because that makes me feel so good. And so...safe." She assured, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "I'm very excited for that day. Because that will be so very fun." The giggle from the Domme was so perfect. She loved having that affect on the blonde. As lips pressed against her own, she moaned softly. There was a slight sting against her lip, but it was so very worth it. When she pulled back, she grinned cheekily and rubbed the back of her neck. "Much better." She paused. "Can I please put on my robe, my Miss?" DJ asked, feeling a little bit vulnerable and a little bit chilled.

Jo

"That's all I want, DJ.  For y'all to feel safe when you're with me.  To feel safe knowin' that I'll always look out for you.  No matter what, for now and always."  Jo nodded eager agreement.  "Oh, it truly will.  That's gonna be the most amazin' day, and I plan on wearing you out in every possible way," she promised.  Her reaction to the kiss produced another, louder giggle.  "Then I'm happy to have given it to you, darlin' girl."  She pulled back a little, wanting to give DJ room to get up.  "Go right ahead - anything you want to put on right now that won't cause y'all more pain, please do that."

DJ

She eased off the bed and then moved to grab her robe. She wrapped it around herself and hummed softly as the warmth and comfort surrounded her. She then nodded. "I'm ready for the hot chocolate and cuddles if you are, Miss." She was glad that Jo had agreed to split the last bit of hot chocolate mix, because she didn't want her Domme to have to miss out on something that she really liked. Especially because it was one of the first things that Jo had talked to her about when she had come over.

Jo

Jo watched, keeping an eye on DJ to make sure that they'd taken enough time to let her recover from the pain.  There was no wobble in her step, though, and no immediate cause for alarm, so she got up as well and smiled.  "I'm very ready, darlin' girl.  Let's go make us some of the world's best chocolate, and then I'm plannin' on cuddling y'all like there's no tomorrow."

[mock-star-aq]

Supermonster Dinner Party: a Dragula fic.

Happy Holidays y'all! This is my fic for the @rpdrficexchange for Wolfie, aka Wolfie @thepastpresentandfutureofdrag !! I hope you like this darling! (For some reason I can't tag you in this?)

This is a weird cannon divergent style where they are their drag personas but dragula and drag race still happened, (if that makes sense) so make of that what you will.

Edit: Thanks to @hellobiqtchlasagna for helping me come up with the surprise at the end. I forgot to credit them in my rush to get my fic up and I feel bad😅

"Do you know anything about him?" Vander asked, pulling a batch of cookies out of the oven and sliding them onto a cooling rack. Biqtch was leaning against the wall, nursing a mixed drink.

"Just that he's Boulet approved, same as you." Biqtch drawled. " Swan actually told me to be nice, as if I would be mean to anyone who wasn't mean first, or a Republican." 

"You can be a bit crass at first. Drac told me to be mindful of not coming across too snooty, but she's one to speak." 

"Oop, I'm snitching! I'm going to tell her you said that!" 

"Oh, she knows, she makes fun of herself. And she would just brush it off. I can tease her a little since I know her relatively well." 

"Yeah that's fair, Lord knows they talk shit about us all the time in private."

"I'm pretty sure it's mostly good things, but yeah, they absolutely poke at our screwups with each other. " 

"Because they want the best from us, cause we're super monsters and all that." Biqtch pushed herself up from the wall, crossing over and rinsing out her cup to use again later. 

"And also because we have to work together from now on, so we have to be at least cordial to each other." Vander said, pulling out her phone to check the time. "He should be here anytime now. I told him 6, and it's 5:55." 

Just as Vander stopped speaking, the doorbell rang. 

"Speak of the devil, that should be him." Vander motioned for Biqtch to follow her as she went to the door, smoothing out some wrinkles from Biqtch's shirt before opening the door wide. 

"Hi, nice to finally meet you! Landon, right?" 

"Yup, Landon Cider. Nice to meet you too." He affirmed, holding a hot bag. Vander waved him inside and relieved him of his dish, allowing him to hang his coat up as Biqtch closed the door. 

"Nice to finally meet you, I'm Biqtch Pudding, and that's Vander Von Odd. You're hot as shit." Biqtch introduced herself, leaning against the wall as Landon took off his outerwear. The most prominent thing about him was how chiseled he was, even his face. The Boulets weren't ones to choose supermonsters based on conventional standards of beauty, but Landon was certainly very attractive. 

"Ah yes, you two are infamous. The first two supermonsters!" Landon smiled, slightly blushing at Biqtch's remark.

"I hope our fearsome reputation precedes us." Biqtch flexed, her arm about half the size of Landon's. 

"Landon, does this need to be warmed up at all?" Vander asked, holding up a casserole dish from the hot bag, interrupting before Biqtch could embarrass herself more. 

"Maybe? I pulled it out of the oven before I left, so it should still be warm." He crossed over and took off the top, holding his hand over what appeared to be a lasagna. "Oh it's fine. It probably needs to cool down a little actually. Biqtch, I know you're a vegetarian, so this is just cheese." 

"Yasss thanks doll!" Biqtch cheered. "What do you want to drink?" Biqtch led Landon over to Vander's drink cart as Vander pulled together the last little bits of the meal and set the table. She put the basket of rolls down as Landon and Biqtch came back, and Landon immediately put his drink down to help Vander put the last few things on the table. 

"Thanks babe." Vander said as they all sat down at the table and started serving food. It was quiet for the first few minutes while they ate, but then Vander started asking Landon questions, since the main point of the dinner was to get to know him. 

"So tell us about yourself Landon, where are you from, what do you do outside of doing performing .."

"Are you single?" Biqtch interjected. And Landon chuckled before responding. 

"Well, I'm from Long Beach, and I have a Hispanic background. I am happily married, sorry Biqtch." He apologized, and Biqtch pretended to be upset, pouting and snapping her fingers before sitting up and shoving his shoulder, indicating that she was joking. 

"We fucked like the all of the drag race winners do when they win but neither one of us liked it, so she was hoping to get a second chance." Vander explained, and Landon spit out his drink. 

"And you know that HOW?!" He spluttered as Biqtch clapped him on his back. 

"Sasha told me. She doesn't love the tradition, but I have a feeling she'll change her tune if Shea wins an allstar season." 

"So they haven't fucked?" 

"Oh no, they have. And they'll take any excuse to fuck. They're just rarely in the same place at the same time anymore. Trust me, Sasha's an open book once you get to know her well enough. So are most of the other RuGirls. Several of the other winners have offered to include us in the tradition, but unfortunately that probably ends with you. At least the sex part, most of them would probably be willing to makeout with you or cuddle with you." 

"Fine by me!" Landon declared, wiping his brow. And they all started laughing. 

"Yeah, we all saw you make out with Evah!" Vander teased, and Biqtch hooted appreciatively. 

"Neither of you can talk!" Landon retorted, and they all started laughing harder. "Biqtch is a dick pig and Vander handled a pup during her final floor show. Hypocrites, both of you!" He wheezed out, clutching his stomach with one hand while pointing with the other. 

"Look at the pot calling the kettle black!" Biqtch screeched. 

The rest of the night dissolved into hysterics, scream laughing at each other so loud it was a wonder they didn't get a noise complaint. The food was barely touched and cold, but no one cared. 

"I was inside so I couldn't see, but you could just hear her screaming! FUCK THE BIG PICTURE CLINT!!!" 

"That's better than Loris's temper tantrum. "NoT tOnIgHt!" 

"Well we didn't have any fun catchphrases like y'all did!"

"Bitch the fuck you mean? Everything that came out of Disasterina's mouth was fucking iconic! "Attention human males? She's murdering my pussy?" You just gotta think!" 

"Ooh ooh! I know! "You're just a trigger happy alcoholic that's what I said bitch you gotta pop a xanax every 10 fucking minutes!" That's the closest thing  Dragula has to the sugar daddy speech so far!"  

"Ok, you both are right. What can I say? I just a dummy ass thick Biqtch." She joked, standing up slightly to twerk slightly to the amusement of Vander and Landon, who laughed even harder.

The doorbell rang, interrupting their laughter. Vander got up to answer it, and came back carrying a white box, slightly damp from the snow. 

"What is that?" Biqtch asked as she and Landon got up and walked over to the counter where Vander sat it down. 

"No idea, but it's addressed to me and it's from a really nice bakery." Vander replied, cutting the string tied around the box off with a pair of scissors and opening the box. All of their jaws dropped as the lid fell back and revealed what was inside. Biqtch came to her senses first, hunching over laughing and clutching the counter. Vander covered her mouth and started wheezing as Landon chuckled and pinching his forehead as if he couldn't believe his eyes. 

"That is not what I think it is." 

"It is." Vander and Biqtch said in unison. Biqtch pulled out her phone and took a picture, still laughing. 

"I'm sending this to her right now. It's so lifelike, and I should know, I stared at her mug for weeks!" Vander laughed, kneeling to get a better look. 

"Did she send it?" Landon asked, taking out his own phone to take a picture. Vander plucked up an envelope that was beside the cake and opened it, laughing harder when she read it. 

" It's from the Boulets." She wheezed. 

" Happy Holidays uglies. Hope you don't mind if Meatball crashes your supermonster dinner party. We truly are proud of you all. XOXO. Dracmorda and Swanthula."

"Swan wrote that." Biqtch said, looking over Vander's shoulder. "Drac has chicken scratch." 

"Ooh! I'm snitching!" Vander mocked, and Biqtch doubled over again while Landon laughed in a confused way. 

"So who wants to do the honors of cutting Meatball's head and seeing what flavor her brain is?" 

"Landon should do it, welcome to the family bro. " Biqtch said. Vander nodded and handed Landon a knife, which he took. 

"Alright, cheers Meatball." Landon said as he sunk the knife into the cake shaped like her head and cut away a piece. 

"It looks like Red Velvet." Vander said as she held out a plate for Landon to put the cake piece on. 

"That's clever as fuck!" Biqtch smiled, watching as Landon cut the next piece. 

"Now I know how the Boulets feel, this is a powerful feeling, slicing someone up." 

"Oh he's definitely one of us!" Biqtch cheered, high fiving Vander. Biqtch high fived Landon as Vander's phone went off and she unlocked it. 

"Swan's glad to hear we got it and Meatball sent a bunch of grave emojis." 

"That tracks." Biqtch said as Vander put her phone away and went to grab wine glasses and a bottle, uncorking it and handing them all a glass of red wine.

"A toast." She said as she held up her glass. "To the Boulets, to Dragula, to good food and good times, and to the supermonsters, past, reigning, and future. Cheers." 

"Cheers!" Biqtch and Landon echoed. And they all drank. 

"Now let's go eat our cold food and our Meatball head cake." Vander directed. "This is a dinner party after all." 

"A holiday dinner party! Where's the mistletoe?" Biqtch joked.

"I am not kissing you again! Once was enough!" 

"Spoil sport. Landon will make out with me, won't you Landon?" 

"Umm, we'll talk. " 

"That wasn't a no!" 

Landon rolled his eyes and laughed at Biqtch's perseverance and Vander's apologetic face. This family was strange and weird and unconventional, but he loved it and wouldn't have it any other way.

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #156: Whatever Happened to the Star with a Mustache (Super Smash Bros Ultimate)

*Scene shows Luigi finally defeating the Millennium Star*

Terry: (Cheers) Alright, Luigi!

Samus: (Nodded with a smile) Not Bad.

Daisy: (Snuggling close to Luigi in delight under a blanket) I knew you could do it, sweetie!~

Luigi: (Chuckles while Blushing) T-Thanks everyone. Mama Mia... Who would've thought playing this would be more intense than fighting him in real life....

Fox: (Smiles Softly at Luigi) Well, you were able to beat him again and that all it matters at the scheme of things really.

Dedede: (Laughing Wholeheartedly) I bet that make you as happy as a fat boy loving cakes when star made you a Superstar, huh?

Luigi: Wellllllllll.....

*Scene shows that the "Millennium" Star telling Luigi that he's actually not the real Millennium Star and then flew away. Leaving the hero kneel down in disappointment*

Dedede: (Eyes Widened) What the FUCK?! You mean to tell me that Millennium Star ain't the real one?!!!

Luigi: Yeah.....Turns out the "Millennium" Star we met this whole time....was a fake.

Samus: Damn.

Terry: Well that sucks. Why would he lied to y'all like that?

Luigi: (Shrugged) No one ever knows really....But on the bright side....

*Scene shows that Tumble, the fake Millennium Star's assistant, revealed to have the real Millennium Star inside his Die hat this entire time*

Daisy: So that's where the real one is. Neat....I guess.

Fox: Wait....so if the real Millennium Star was in Tumble Dice Hat this entire time, why would he wait until now to show his face?

Luigi: (Rubbing his head back and forth) I'm not sure how to answer that Fox cause I have no idea either....

Fox: Mario Party is weird....

Luigi: (Chuckles Lightly) Yeah and we still love it for it too... oddly enough.

*Scene shows the real Millennium Star declaring Luigi qs the Superstar*

Everyone: (Starts Applauding once the credits roll)

Fox: Not gonna lie, that was a pretty fun story mode all things considered. And nice job on being declared the Superstar, Luigi.

Luigi: (Blushes a little while smiling) T-Thanks, Fox. But it was nothing really...

Dedede: Boy, are you kidding me? You went through all of that just get yourself known as a Superstar. Speaking of which, what kind of prizes that star gave you afterwards?

Samus: Was it a million dollars?

Terry: Did they gave you any Universal powers?

Everyone: (Gave Terry a 'Really?' stare) ......

Terry: Hey if the that Millennium Star came from the universe, he had to gave you some kind of crazy power, right?

Luigi: Well....not exactly....he didn't gave me a million dollar prize either.....

Daisy: Then what did he gave you?

Luigi: All he gave me was a large poster that said "You Are Superstar of Universe" and a Skeleton Key for some reason.... And then he flew away. Never to be heard from again.

Samus: .....So basically.... you've been played by both Fake and the Real Millennium Star?

Luigi: ('Sigh Sadly') Pretty much. But I should've know better honestly.....

Daisy: (Gives Luigi a loving hug and then kiss him on the cheek) It's okay, Luigi. You'll always be a Superstar to me.

Luigi: (Looks at Daisy in awe) Daisy....

Dedede: Your girl's right, boy. I mean who even needs that half-ass star anyways? Am I right?

Samus: (Nodded in agreement) Right.

Fox: (Shrugged) It's their lost.

Terry: (Turns to Luigi with a smile) We still think you're cool, man.

Luigi: (Chuckles Lightly with a soft smile) Wow....Thanks you, guys.

Terry: (Gave Luigi a thumbs up) No problem.

Samus: So whatever's did happen to that fake Millennium Star anyways?

Luigi: Wherever he is, I'm sure he's out there doing something important and stuff.

Elsewhere.......

Hades: Ok. So let me get this straight, you used your power to orchestrate a Mario Party game....just for your entertainment?

Fake Millennium Star: (Frowns in shame) That is correct.

Viridi: I could understand power, world domination, and all of that other stuff.....but for Mario Party? Really?

Hades: Yeah that's pretty sad. Not in a compelling way either.

Fake Millennium Star: I've realized that my motivates are.... somewhat questionable, but I've enjoyed Party events for so long that I must host one myself.

Viridi: Again, for Mario Party?! Out of all the parties you could've hosted, you choose that one?

Hades: Yeah. Couldn't you make your own party instead?

Fake Millennium Star: It wouldn't be fun if I did so myself...

Hades: (Smiles Teasingly) Wow you're pathetic. And I find it laughable that you lost to an Italian plumber's little brother. With that fake ass mustache of yours.

Fake Millennium Star: (Enraged) DO NOT DISRESPECT THE MUSTACHE!!!

Hades: Please. That Mustache is fake and you know it.

Fake Millennium Star: (His Mustache starting to get crooked) N-No it isn't! Y-You're Fake!!!

Hades: (Being Sarcastic) Wow the edge. Tell you what, come back when you actual done something more useful than playing some Party game and then we'll might acknowledge you better. Or don't. Cause I don't give a fuck either way.

Fake Millennium Star: (In Tears while adjusting his (Kind of Fake) Mustache) F-Fine!! Be that way! I didn't even what to come here anyways! (Disappears)

Viridi: (Raised an eyebrow at Hades) Did you have to be a dick to him like that?

Hades: (Shrugged with a Smug Smile) I'm the God of the underworld. It's what I do. And besides, even you have to agree that poser had it coming.

Viridi: ........You know, this might be the only time I would ever agree with you on something....and it already sucks.

Hades: (Smiles Smugly) Bitch, your mad cause I'm right.

Viridi: (Walks away in annoyance) Whatever, Hades....

@keyenuta

@ink-correctsmashbrosbloo

@gengar-sans

@luigifan00001

@26shann

@scribblehooves

[carlgrimeschandlerriggsimagines]

Negan’s daughter chapter 14: Darling

Word count: 2001

Need to catch up? Click me!

Summary: It’s been 7 years...What has changed?

Warnings: Cursing, Smoking, Sex mention 

Authors note: Happy new year! 

Taglist: @heyworld07  @namelesslosers  @smallfryalixa @ask-kakashihatake @emobabygirlsworld  @hilove7575  @negans-network

7 years its been 7 years since the war ended Arat, Tanya, Amber, Dwight, Rick they are all gone and they aren't ever coming back they were dead. 

Anyways, I now live with Michonne and Judith and her son RJ in Alexandria my dad was still locked away but I visited him a lot nowadays.

The Sanctuary was gone it's basically a ghost town now.

I rolled out of bed at the sound of Michonne calling me from downstairs "Y/n breakfast is ready!" Michonne yells I threw on a pair of high waisted jeans and a black tank top and walked out the stairs "Goodmorning." Michonne says as she places a glass in front of me as I sit down at the table "Morning." I say running my fingers through my hair "Judith! Breakfast is ready!!" Michonne calls out I put some scrambled eggs on my fork and plop them in my mouth "What's on your agenda?" Michonne asks as she sits down with her coffee "Cara wanted me to teach her how to throw knives since we are running low on ammo." I say she grins "You and Cara getting serious?" She asks

I roll my eyes "No she doesn't date. We've done other things but I don't think you want to hear about that." I say chuckling she laughs "No I do not." She says Judith walks down the stairs Carl's hat on her head she then sits down and begins to eat I finish my scrambled eggs and I clean off my plate I run upstairs and into my room, I shut my door.

It was light blue walls with white shelves of different things I've collected I have a decent sized closet and I share a bathroom with Judith I throw on my black boots I look in the mirror and I shake my head I throw off my bra and go through my drawer and I pull out a black "Bombshell" bra as it says on the label I put it on and I then put on my flannel I tie it around my waist and I quickly braid my hair in french braids then I clip my holster to my thigh and put my gun in my holster and my knife in my bed I open my door and walk down the stairs before I walk out the door "Y/n be back by curfew!" Michonne says I look at her "I will." I say she then chuckles "Not getting serious?" She asks referring to the amount of cleavage I am showing I roll my eyes "Shut up." I say I walk out the door and down the steps and over to the training field

I see Cara sitting on the ground "Hey hot stuff." I say jokingly she looks up her blue eyes twinkle in the sunlight "Hey gorgeous." She says grinning

I quickly show her the basics showing her how to stand and how to throw "The trick however far you want it to go is how hard you throw." I say she nods "got it." She replies she begins to throw the knives at the target pretty much all of the knives missing

I suddenly hear the gates open and I see unfamiliar faces walk in followed by a couple of our people I begin to walk over but Cara grabs my wrist before I do "My brother has to keep watch tonight you should come over maybe you can show me some other stuff as well." She says then winks I smile "I'd like that." I say then jog off to the gate my cheeks flushed

(That night)

I look in the mirror a changed my top to a black tight crop top and I put on a matching set of black lace panties and bra grabbed my jacket and I walked quietly down the stairs I see michonne sitting on the couch reading a book "Where are you going?" She asks chuckling "No where." I say she then sighs "Cara's brother has watch until 1:20" she then looks at her watch "It's 12:30 right now so so I suggest you make whatever you two are gonna do fast." she says I grin "Ok!" I say I open the door then rush out to her house.

She sits on her porch her blonde hair falling on her shoulders and a cigarette in between her lips.

She looks at me and smiles I sit down next to her she puts the cigarette close to my mouth and I take a hit.

The next thing I knew I was being slammed against her bedroom wall her lips falling on mine her hands travel to my hips undoing my belt then she begins kissing down my neck leaving a faint trail of hickeys she throws off my belt then begins to unbutton my jeans I close my eyes enjoying the moment my fingers tangle in her hair as she pulls me in for another kiss her teeth catch my lip and she bites down drawing blood.

Suddenly I hear the front door shut. Shit. Her brother must have gotten off his shift early.

She chuckles "Don't worry." She pulls me closer

"We can be quiet."

I quietly shut the door careful not to wake anyone I quietly walk up the stairs and into my room I turned on the lantern in my room and I look at myself in the mirror I was a mess. My hair was messy my lip was bloody and  my neck was covered in faint hickeys I throw off my shirt and bra and I throw on a sports bra and a sweatshirt I take off my jeans and shoes then I fall back on my bed and immediately drift off to sleep

(The next day)

I threw my backpack into the wagon Michonne was taking the new group to hilltop along with Siddiq and she wanted me to tag along

"I'm gonna go say bye to my dad really quickly." I say Michonne nods I jog over to where my dad's cell is I open the door and step in my dad sits against the wall reading a book he has probably read a thousand times "Hey sweetheart." He says I smile.

"Hey, daddy." I say he stands up I walk over to the cell bars he kisses my forehead through the bars then holds my hand in his "I'm gonna go to the hilltop for a day or two we have a new group we are taking there just wanted to say goodbye." I say he smiles his grey beard looking like he was Santa clause "Bye sweetheart be safe ok." He says I nod "I will." I say I kiss his cheek

"Don't give Gabriel too hard of a time." I say chuckling he chuckles "No promises." He says

I begin to walk away "Y/n." I turn around "Yeah." I ask "I want to meet the special guy who caused those hickeys when you get back." He says  I grin "Ok!" I say chuckling I walk back outside and over to the wagon I pet my horse who I named Darling

She is white with a black spot over her eyes I scratch behind her ears then I climb on the saddle as the gates open then Darling begins to trot I follow behind Michonne and Siddiq and the wagon follows behind us

"What The Hilltop like?" Someone from Magna's group asks "It's nice. but the people there are kinda square in my opinion." I say

(Ok lol my brain can't come up with anything to write about until after they get to hilltop so soz lol)

I drop my knife on the floor along with my gun then the gates to hilltop open I climb off my horse as I see Tara, Enid, and Alden ever since Enid found out about what Carl and I did she has always hated me...Actually, everyone in hilltop hates me now that I think about it.

"And what is she doing here?" Tara asks Michonne "Nice to see you too Tara." I say smiling Michonne looks at me "I wanted her to get out of Alexandria she stay inside the walls all day she needed to explore." Michonne says

I roll my eyes "She shouldn't be here all she does is cause trouble!" Enid says a chuckle "Nice to see you too Enid." I say

I put Darling in a stable "I'll be back Darling." I say I kiss her nose and I walk off over to Magna's group Connie signs something to me

"She wants to know why everyone hates you." Kelly says I chuckle "Long story...let's just say they don't like my dad." I say chuckling Kelly signs to Connie and she nods out of the corner of my eye I see Enid kissing Alden I chuckle "I'll see y'all later." I say

I walk away as Enid walk away behind the house I pull out a cigarette from my pocket I light it with my lighter and  I follow Enid behind the house she kneels in front of a water bucket washing clothes I chuckle "You shouldn't smoke they will kill you." Enid says I chuckle.

"I thought you would tell me to smoke the whole pack considering how much you hate me." I say leaning against the house she rolls her eyes "What do you want." She asks I shrug "Just wanted a quiet space." I say

"You shouldn't be here you should have left with the saviors." Enid says I roll my eyes "I tried Michonne wouldn't let me." I say taking the cigarette from my mouth and blowing out the smoke

"Is your dad dead yet?" She asks I chuckle "Nope they haven't joined your dad yet." I say chuckle she looks up glaring I smile "You know what's funny the only reason you hate me is because I fucked the guy you liked you didn't hate me before you found out." I say chuckling

She then stands up pulling her knife out of her holster then she throws a punch hitting me in the jaw I drop my cigarette I suddenly grab her hair punching her I tackle her punching her over and over again she screams "Alden!" She screams "Bitch!" I scream

"Y/n!" Michonne yells she grabs me pulling me back Alden helps Enid up cupping her cheek with his hand blood rushes from her nose Michonne grips my wrist "Stop it!" Michonne says I get out of michonne's grip I walk away cursing under my breathe

I brush out my hair then the door opens to see Michonne "What was that." She says I roll my eyes "Why am I here!?" I yell she tilts her head "What?" She asks "Everyone hates me here! Everyone! They all want me dead!" I yell tears forming in my eyes

"No, they don't sweetheart. Honey they don't." She says pulling me in for a hug I let my tears fall "Yes they do. They all do." I cry she runs her fingers through my hair "I want to go home."I cry "We are gonna leave tomorrow we are gonna get Rosita and we are gonna go home." Michonne says "No not Alexandria I want to go to the sanctuary." I say she kisses my forehead

“You know nothing is there is a ghost town y/n you could get hurt” michonne says she tucks a piece of hair behind my ear

“Come on let’s go get some dinner”

The next morning

I open the door to Darlings stable guiding her out I put her saddle on her and I scratch her behind the ear "We are gonna go home Darling I promise." I say smiling suddenly Tara runs up to me "Negan escaped!" She yells I drop Darlings rope in shock

I snap out of my thoughts and I climb on Darling "Go Darling!" I say she begins to run the gates are open and She runs through "Y/n!" Alden yells but Darling just runs to the road headed towards the sanctuary

[kidolegend]

Renewals - A Prompto Argentum Fic (Part 8)

Previous | AO3 Link

Hey~ So I guess until I catch up with myself as I write this, I’ll try and publish every Monday and Thursday. Also, I don’t write especially long chapters, but this one is a bit longer (mainly cuz I couldn’t figure out where to break it without having a very smol chappy >_> <_<)

Any reblogs, comments, moral support, constructive criticism, or just some hellos are always appreciated~

Tagging: @cupnoodle-queen @blindbae @paopuicecream @xnoctits @themissimmortal @poisonous-panda @noxfreyas @insomniascure @thegoddesseos @crossedquills @sailormars109 @valkyrieofardyn @ultimoogle @drpepper280 @decision-height @lithiumkatana17 @roses-and-oceans @@thirsty-angst-lord @e-addi 

Reckless Running

Prompto had been careless. After having fought so many MTs alongside allies who knew what they were doing and how to handle the heavy armors, it never crossed the gunner’s mind to warn his newest companion of the danger she was in.

It wasn’t until he had double-checked his own position that he had realized Aylin was still standing beside the magitek armor, and by then it was too late.

“Aylin, move! The--” Prompto’s howl was inaudible under the armor’s self-destruct sequence processing and he could only watch.

Watch in horror as the mech exploded,  throwing Aylin’s body back and engulfing her in a wash of metal and fire.

“N-no!!” He scrambled forward into the flames, ignoring the searing heat that burned easily through his gloves as he kicked and yanked aside debris until he could see her.

She was pinned under what had been one of the magitek armor’s arms, the twisted machinery almost concealing her amidst the smoke.

“Aylin!” Prompto vaulted over the flames to her side, trying to figure out the best way to move the smoldering metal without further injuring her.

She was unconscious and Prompto gritted his teeth, cursing. He lifted the remains of the mech, his arms and legs protesting as he used his weight to get the arm high enough to push aside.

“C’mon, dammit!” Prompto hissed in pain as the red-hot metal scorched through his vest and began burning his shoulder and neck. “Move!!”

There was a terrific grinding noise and the armor suddenly shifted forward, almost causing the blonde to land on Aylin. The flames had melted enough of the armor that it gave way at the arm’s joint, allowing Prompto to shove it aside.

He panted, clutching at his burns and kneeling beside the injured young woman.

His heart plummeted as he adjusted the light on his lapel in order to see her in more clearly than the flickering firelight would allow… and spotted the sharp glint of metal wedged deep into her side.

“No, fuck…” Prompto groaned as he examined the shrapnel. It was a few inches wide, but with the blood soaking into her shirt, Prompto couldn't tell how deep it had cut into her.

All he knew was she needed help, and fast.

He reached around into his pocket and swore again when he grabbed at empty space--his potions! He had taken all the curatives he had with him so there was nothing he could use to help lessen the damage.

“What the hell do I do?!” He mumbled to himself, wishing he had Ignis’ expertise to help guide him. “Damn, uh… shelter. Gotta find shelter.”

It took Prompto a couple of tries to lift Aylin--trying to figure out a good way to carry her was way more difficult than he expected, especially now that his shoulder was searing in pain. He couldn't help but cry out softly as he hoisted her in his arms and headed for one of the standing control booths--It wasn't the best hiding place to keep away from daemons, but he was hoping the bright flames from all the explosions would deter their appearance until he could get help.

He settled with Aylin’s head in his lap, pulling out his (thankfully undamaged) cell phone and scrolling to Ignis’ number.

And stopping.

What if Ignis and Gladio were still fighting at their base? A phone call would at best distract them and at worst jeopardize their whole assault. He couldn’t call them now, not with so much at stake… But...

“Goddammit…” Prompto’s hands began trembling and he stared down at Aylin and he could feel breath catching in his throat as he began to panic. There was no one else he could turn to for help. After all, they were the only friends he had.

Her breathing was labored and her face was contorted in pain. There were patches of bright red skin on her arms, neck, and face, showing where flames had scorched her, as well as cuts and scrapes from both the battle and the explosion. Her shirt was still damp and sticky from the blood oozing out of her side, but with the metal fragment still in place it seemed as if most of the bleeding had stopped.

All in all, it didn’t seem like a very promising situation.

Prompto could feel tendrils of guilt worming their way into his mind, suffocating his thoughts and drowning his confidence. How could he have been so careless? Aylin had been a spectacular ally to fight alongside--she had not only helped him destroy the garrison, but had saved his life multiple times throughout the ordeal, too.

And he returned the favor by blowing her up and watching her bleed to death.

“You lose your friends and kill your family… why, you've no one left.” Cruel words echoed in the gunner’s mind and he flinched, half-expecting to see a tall, imposing figure looming over him.

“Dammit!!” Prompto curled in on himself, his forehead almost touching Aylin’s. He was powerless to do anything to help her.

Who was he to think he could actually pull this off without screwing something up?

What a fucking joke.

“I'm sorry.” He whispered coarsely. “I'm s--!”

He yelped when his cellphone--which had been clenched in his hand--buzzed.

“W-what…?” He stared down at the name in confusion, momentarily thrown out of the beginnings of a panic attack. Sure, they had exchanged numbers in case one of the other guys’ phones were out of commission, but he expected to actually receive a call… At least not from her.

“H-hello, Cindy?”

“Oh, heavens... thank goodness ya answered! Paw-paw just told me one of them airships is headin’ your way! Y'all need to skedaddle, and quick!”

“W-what?!” Prompto exclaimed. “You've got to be kidding me…”

“Take care, y’hear? Head back as fast as ya can.”

Talk about shitty luck. The gunner sighed at his own misfortune. “R-right. Oh, Cindy?’

“Yeah?”

“Have you heard from Ignis or Gladio?”

“Can't say I have, hun.”

Prompto put his phone on speaker and shoved it into his pocket, forcing his battered limbs to move. “If you do, can you tell them to call me right away?”

“Sure thing, just leave it to me.”

“Thanks.”

The line went dead and Prompto lifted Aylin again, the pain in his arm doubling after his short rest. “I c-can do this…”

Cindy's message had come in the nick of time--by the time Prompto had gotten out of the control booth, he could see the headlights or an approaching airship over his head. He had only minutes to make his way to the west side of the garrison before the vessel appeared, its cargo hold opening to drop several MTs into the center of the base.

Prompto pressed against the back wall, biting his lip. The only entrance to the garrison was on the eastern side, but with Aylin cradled in his arms he would have been spotted and shot down before they could escape. He knew there was no way out on the eastern side, but maybe, just maybe the explosion…

Yes!

Prompto checked his surroundings, making sure no MTs would spot him before he ran as quietly and quickly as he could towards the small gap that had been blown open during their assault on the warehouse. It took him a couple of tries but after an excruciating amount of pain, he was able to squeeze the both of them through the hole and out into the desert.

“Gotta keep moving…” He wheezed out, his feet moving automatically. If he could get to Hammerhead, maybe Aylin would have a chance.

But would he be able to make it that far? What about the daemons?

A distant roar answered his fears and he spotted an iron giant on the main road, blocking his way. It hadn’t seen the two wounded humans several yards away but Prompto knew he wouldn’t be able to outrun or combat the daemon if it did.

“Dammit, where…? Ugh, I can't take this anymore,” He lamented, wincing as he adjusted Aylin in his arms. His eyes widened as he stared out towards the east.

A telltale plume of bluish smoke was rising from somewhere close.

“A haven.” Prompto had forgotten about the second campsite on the other side of the stronghold and he praised the Astrals for its existence, struggling over to it.

Surprisingly, two chocobos, a backpack, and a small tent were there to greet him. There was no one else in sight.

“No way… I must be dreaming.” He muttered, trying his best to get Aylin under the shelter of the tent and only managing to get her legs into it.

Well, better than nothing.

Prompto then dragged his feet over to the backpack--It wasn't very nice of him to be using someone else's belongings, but he figured that a dire situation like his warranted enough of an excuse.

He sorted through the bag, relieved to find some bandages, water, and food rations packed in it.

“I'm not sure how this works…” The blonde did his best to pour water and clean off and patch up some of Aylin’s superficial wounds. He paused at the metal still embedded in her side.

It seemed like most of the bleeding had stopped--if the drying blood on Aylin’s shirt was any indication--and he knew from the few first-aid lessons Ignis gave him that he shouldn't pull the metal out.

That'd just make the bleeding a lot worse, wouldn't it? Or maybe he was supposed to pull it out to prevent infection?

“Man…” After deliberating a few moments, Prompto decided to trust his first instinct, leaving it in and doing what he could to clean the wound without aggravating it again.

“There. W-whoa…” Once he straightened back up, a wave of dizziness overcame him. He was finally coming down from the battle-high and his body was responding in kind.

Prompto rolled over onto his back next to her, trying to catch his breath as the adrenaline wore off and pain and exhaustion took over.

One of the chocobos--a white one that had been watching the gunner work--crooned at the disheveled pair, walking over.

“Heya, b-be careful.” Prompto croaked out a warning, hoping the bird wouldn’t step on the young woman. It settled next to Aylin, halfway under the tent itself as it looked over the unconscious woman’s body and then up at him, blinking slowly.

The second, pale green chocobo also sauntered over, trilling at him.

“D-don’t think you… could get some help, could you?” Prompto breathed as it stopped next to him, bending its neck down to nudge his face. It was more gentle than his own chocobo, who was energetic and rowdy at the best of times.

The white chocobo--which had

“A-ah…” Prompto clutched at the burns on his shoulder as the green chocobo nudged his face again with growing persistence, forcing the blonde to sit up. “S-sorry buddy, but I’m hurting real bad right now. W-we can play later.”

The colored bird exhaled in response--almost sounding like an exasperated snort--but it continued scooting Prompto over until it could curl up underneath him, acting like a giant feathery pillow.

“O-oh. Thanks,” The gunner was surprised--both of the birds were extraordinarily gentle and intelligent. They also didn’t seem to be wary of the two humans intruding on the campsite, which was unlike most chocobos, which tended to be flighty around new people.

Prompto gasped, his body jerking in surprise and pain when his cell phone buzzed, startling him. The green chocobo also flinched, letting out a squawk.

“H-hello?”

“Prompto!”

He had never been so happy to hear Ignis’ voice. “Hey Iggy, what’s up…?”

“We just checked in with Cindy and she told us of your predicament. Are you all right?”

“I’ve… Well,” Prompto winced, deciding to be honest. “I’ve been better.”

“Where are you?”

“A haven, it’s west of the base.” The gunner bit his lip as he glanced over at the injured young woman beside him. “I… I can’t make it back to Hammerhead like this, Iggy.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll head towards you now. We encountered Aranea during our assault and she was gracious enough to lend us use of her airship.”

“Aranea, huh?” Prompto couldn’t help but smile at the familiar name. He made a note to himself, promising to do something nice for the mercenary in return for the amount of times she had helped him. “A-awesome. Tell her I said ‘hi’.”

“I expect you shall be able to tell her yourself, once we arrive.” Ignis’ words were layered with meaning and Prompto huffed out a short laugh.

“R-right. You guys might want to hurry.” He looked over at Aylin again and the movement sent a sharp pain through his arm, pulling a groan from his lips. “P-probably lost too much blood…”

“We’re on our way. Hang on, Prompto!”

“Yup, don’t worry about me… I’m not going anywhere.”