#Not the way you would want to be woken up
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Blood Ties Chapter 31
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; parents of a newborn just going through it
gif by @reedusmcbridedaily
You felt like you had just fallen asleep when Birdie began to stir. With a grunt, she made tiny squeaking noises to wind herself up for a mighty wail. You had yet to open your eyes, when you felt the mattress shift.
“Ssh, quiet lil’ Bird. Give your mama a chance to wake up ‘fore ya start your fussin’.” Everything was bleary from tiredness but when it cleared, Daryl was already on his feet, Birdie on his shoulder with a large hand rubbing her back. “S’alright. She’ll be awake in a minute.” There was a gentle bounce to his steps as he paced back and forth. “Ain’t even tryin’ the diaper thing by myself. Sorry, kid.”
Birdie wiggled and rooted against Daryl’s shoulder, and you heard him chuckle. Watching him with the baby, it just looked so—natural. His head angled so his eyes were on her, a gentle smile curving his lips when she turned her little head to press her mouth against the side of his neck.
“Alright, alright. Let’s getcha to your mama.”
When he turned to find you awake, he actually appeared startled, freezing mid-step.
“Hey.” You whispered, sleep still lacing your voice. It was your first full night with the new baby and the first time she had woken the two of you. There was a twinge of guilt finding Daryl up first with the newly named Birdie, especially since he planned on hunting the next morning. That guilt, however, was rivaled by the overwhelming adoration you felt warming your heart when you saw the new father interacting with his daughter.
“She’s hungry. Prolly needs a diaper too, ‘cordin’ to Carol.”
The saint of a woman had sat with the two of you for over an hour going over the different cues Birdie would give you for different things; when she was hungry, needed changed, or just wanted to be talked to. She taught you ways to position her for nursing. Rashes to watch for, the correct way to clean her with the wipes.
“Always front to back.” Carol demonstrated with the next pee soaked diaper. You were front and center, soaking it all in, desperate for all the help you could get. Daryl was still reeling back and away from the scene with discomfort at seeing his daughter’s anatomy, but that had him leaning forward to catch Carol’s eye.
“She’s got a pref’rence?”
The other woman fastened the diaper and scooped up the baby. “To be so smart, your daddy is so clueless sometimes.” She cooed in baby talk.
You unbuttoned your flannel and lowered the right side of the bra as Daryl repositioned Birdie to the crook of his arm before he gently deposited her into yours. She was ridiculously eager and latched on right away, making those sweet noises that had you staring at her in awe.
The mattress dipped on the other side and you found your partner making himself comfortable against the headboard.
“Why don’t you go sleep with everyone else? You’re going out hunt—”
“No.” He answered around a yawn.
“Then go back to sleep?”
He scrubbed a hand over his face with a quiet mm mm. “Gonna need changed. Wanna help.” Crossing his arms, he rested his head against the wood behind him and closed his eyes. “Need the practice.”
“You need the sleep too, Daryl.” After he opened one eye but before he could speak, you moved one of your hands from beneath Birdie, balancing her weight on your arm so that you could hold out your palm in an attempted display of acquiescence. “I know, I know. Her mama, not yours.”
He snorted, closing his eye again.
The silence—aside from the little suck gulp breath from Birdie—was not uncomfortable. Daryl was dozing. You weren’t concerned about his tired state, even if the only time you’d ever seen him actually do something about it was when he had been so ill. It had been a wild couple of days. You, yourself, could have fallen asleep if not for the task at hand, actually finding that you needed to chew your lip to keep from nodding off.
With the baby sitting on your thigh, your hand supporting her head with a hold just beneath her chin, you patted her back, just like Carol had shown you. “Can you grab a diaper and the wipes?”
“Mhm.” You didn’t need to try any harder to rouse him. He was up and moving to grab the bag containing those specific supplies. Birdie let out a quiet hiccup of air while he was still up, making it possible for you to get her situated on the mattress. “M’gonna do it.”
When your exhaustion-burning eyes trekked upward, Daryl was shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot while tapping the diaper against the side of his leg. You smiled affectionately, yet sympathetically. He was still so nervous about seeing that part of her.
“I’ll be your backup.” Scooting slightly, you kept a hand on Birdie’s belly so as to not allow the shifting of the mattress to jostle her. “Your wingwoman.” He was already curling his lip while situating himself cross-legging.
“That ain’t helpin’.”
“Sorry. Sorry.” You chuckled. He reached for the zipper on the sleeper and pulled it down to maneuver that baby’s bottom half out of the legs, her little limbs drawing up. His hands were shaking. “You’re her father, Daryl. What you’re doing is okay. You’re just taking care of her.” His attempted scowl was belied by the desperation in his eyes.
He had never experienced the tenderness he was trying to bestow on his daughter, afraid of every little thing he had to do for her somehow being frowned upon or causing her pain. You were nervous too but the demonstration by Carol had made you feel a bit more comfortable.
For Daryl, it had done little other than give him the correct methods. He was still battling to understand his role, to feel confident in his ability to show affection to the little one beyond carrying her around. That part, he had down to a science.
He paused after pulling loose the tabs on the diaper. You thought for a moment that you’d have to take over, yet just as the offer began to form into spoken syllables, he continued. The soiled diaper was removed and the clean one placed beneath her bottom, just in case the unexpected chill in the air resulted in her urinating again. There was a deep breath beside you, a deliberate shifting of his gaze before he schooled himself into actually watching what he was doing.
The tremble in his hands was sending fine vibrations into Birdie’s legs. You wanted to allow him to do it on his own, but not at the expense of the baby’s comfort. Reaching slowly, you ran your fingers over the top of his hand before taking over with at least keeping her little limbs still and raised so he could clean her.
Wiping her the way Carol had shown him took longer than it should have, what with him pulling back several times with an uncertainty that made your heart both warm and break. The swipes of the wipe were gentle yet thorough, ensuring she was clean. When it was time, you let him take hold of her legs to draw the fresh diaper up between them and fasten it before he wrestled her flailing feet into the onesie.
“Quit squirmin’, kid.” The words were spoken softly, not even a command but more of a plea. Job done, you expected to be the one to lift her and get her settled back into sleep, but Daryl beat you to it. Scooping her up under her arms with his long fingers supporting the back of her head, he placed her against his chest and laid back. Birdie was instantly content, stretching before curling back up. Folding one arm behind his head, he placed the other hand on the newborn’s back.
Lying back, you gingerly turned onto your side to face your little family, your core still aching. Carol had mentioned using ice pads made with aloe vera and witch hazel after Sophia was born but without a freezer, that wasn’t an option for you. Watching Daryl move his hand and run his fingers over Birdie’s soft little cheek, another ghost of a smile on his lips, you couldn’t even remember the discomfort.
“Get some sleep.”
You had utterly zoned out, blinking and meeting blue eyes that reflected the exhaustion you were feeling. “You too?” He dipped his chin in a nod and you let your eyes close.
The next time Birdie woke you up, it wasn’t a gradual process. There was no build up to the squalling. You and Daryl shot upright at the same time, his hands instinctively coming up to secure the little squirming bundle to his chest.
While you began unbuttoning your flannel, Daryl was moving the baby all over, inspecting her almost frantically.
“Why’s she cryin’ like that?” Wide eyes looked to you.
“Hungry, I guess? Carol said she’d wake up a lot and want to nurse.” Bra unhooked, you held out your arms. Daryl winced, one shoulder lifting toward his ear.
“Kid’s got a set’a lungs.”
You couldn’t help but mirror his actions, bringing her closer to position her at your breast. Her cries ceased when you accidentally brushed her cheek, her little mouth falling open in search of the nipple.
Daryl snorted. “Like a lil’ bird.”
You tossed him a brief look and continued to help the baby latch. “Is that why you wanted to call her Birdie?” The little red face was starting to lighten to pink after a few moments of eager nursing.
He smiled, one-sided, and brushed the back of the baby’s hand with his index finger, her tiny digits rising from where they flexed on your breast to wrap around it. “Nah.”
You waited, desperate to keep the conversation going lest you fall asleep sitting up. “So, why Birdie then?” Daryl ducked his head, his cheeks flushed.
“Was, uh—I was by the window yesterday, holdin’ ‘er. She just kept—starin’, like she was tryin’ to figure me out.” He was refusing to unglue his eyes from the baby at your breast. “There was a, uh—a blue jay. Carol said she can’t see much right now but she saw that bird. Won’t never convince me that she didn’t.”
“Like you saw a chupacabra?” He glared at you from beneath his lashes, only succeeding in making the battle not to laugh more difficult.
“Stop.” He drawled.
“Okay, okay.” You pinched your thumb and forefinger together and drew them across your lips, but he waited, just in case you weren’t finished.
Satisfied that your jesting had ceased, he sighed. “She watched that bird fly back an’ forth.” Pulling a face, he lowered his head until his chin nearly touched his chest. “Asked if she liked the lil’ birdie an’ she looked at me. Was diff’rent that time. She knew me.” Using his thumb, he pushed the little hand off of his finger. “So—Birdie.” He sniffed. “An’ Jade just kinda—I dunno—fit?”
“That’s—” He looked up, a step shy of wincing, waiting for you to change your mind about the name. “That’s really sweet, Daryl.” It appeared that he almost smiled before scowling.
“Shuddup.” He slid a hand over his face, feeling the pull of exhaustion that he would never voice to you even though it was as plain as day. He may not have pushed the baby out, but his nerves were shot.
“Get some sleep. I’ll lie back down when she’s done.” You attempted but were met with what was bound to be a repetitive refusal.
“Ain’t making ya stay up alone with ‘er.” Pushing himself off the bed, he stalked over to the window and peered out. “Need to stay at least a lil’ alert anyway. Don’t know when we might hafta move on.”
“I’m sure one of the others is on watch. We have everything still in the bags. There’s no reason you can’t lie down and get some real rest.” You were shifting Birdie onto your shoulder to burp her, but watching your partner scan over what he could see outside. Daryl hummed and crossed his arms, laughing with a breath through his nose when Birdie burped, loud and sudden.
“Maybe we should’a named ‘er after Merle.”
You chuckled and moved the baby back into the bend of your arm, her little hand making its way into her mouth. The sounds of her sucking her fist were deafening in the otherwise silent room. You watched her for a moment, just enjoying the way she cooed and gurgled in between the attempts.
Daryl’s steps were near silent. In fact, you didn’t even know he was moving until the bed dipped beside you.
“Don’t she need, uh—well, both’a ‘em?”
“Huh?” His eyes were on your bare breast, still uncovered, your nipple pink and puckered. “Oh.” Daryl’s ears burned red. He was quick to throw his leg off the edge of the mattress and turn his back to you. “You’ve seen them before, Daryl.” He merely grunted so you left it alone. “She seems content, so I guess we can try for some more sleep?”
“Yeah, uh—” He rubbed at the nape of his neck. “Guess we should.”
You wrapped Birdie snugly in the blanket and placed her between the two of you. She wasn’t asleep but she seemed quite content with her fist. You’d take what you could get. Daryl laid down at the same time you did, but with his back to the two of you.
“Are you okay?” You chanced asking.
“Mhm. Sleep.”
He wasn’t very convincing, but lucky for him, you were too tired to try and coerce the truth out of him. Still, as your eyes closed and sleep began to carry you away, you could have sworn you heard him say your name within a troubled sigh.
All initial thoughts that Birdie was a quiet baby were gone by the next morning, before the sun had even graced the sky with its presence. She wailed relentlessly several times after only a brief reprieve. Feedings and diaper changes failed to soothe her, as did Daryl walking her around the room. You could see the dark smudges beneath the archer’s eyes and were certain your own would mirror them.
“Y’all gonna be alright?” He asked, his voice raspy, his feet dragging.
“Are you?” You countered, yawning and rocking the baby, the motion seeming to soothe her for the moment. Her eyes continued to slip shut until she somehow managed to startle herself awake, wriggling within her blanket before tiring out and repeating the cycle.
“M’a be fine.” He grunted and placed his bag and crossbow on the foot of the bed, a pause in his actions while you carefully laid down the baby, her little fists swinging outward and pulling back in a sedated motion. “Maybe she’ll sleep for ya now.”
“Maybe.” You stared at Birdie with the warmest of smiles, simply admiring how perfect she was, features of both you and Daryl already so prominent in her barely two day old face.
“Hey.”
“Hmm—oh.” You hadn’t even noticed him move, turning to find him standing over you, his hand already beside your face, tucking your hair behind your ear.
“So fuckin’ beautiful.”
Catching his wrist, you pulled his palm to your lips. “So fuckin’ sleep deprived.” He shrugged a shoulder and turned his hand to grip yours and pull you to your feet, flush against his chest. Dipping his head, he pressed his lips to yours, just as gentle as the hand that now cupped your cheek.
It didn’t take long for things to grow a little more heated, your fingers tugging at his hair while his gripped your waist, your mouths moving in sync, tongues exploring eagerly. When you felt the first rush of arousal, it burned, eliciting a squeak against his lips, and you pulled back.
“Ow, ow, ow.” Both hands clutched the crotch of your sweats.
“Ow? S’wrong?” It was difficult to focus on him reaching toward you—but not touching—when he was so obviously hard beneath the rough fabric of his jeans.
“Six weeks, remember?” You moved slowly to seat yourself on the mattress, your core aching. “I think half of my vagina is still in the van.”
“Ya gotta be so vulgar?” He ducked his head, face flushed all the way to the tips of his ears.
You laughed, covering your mouth to quiet yourself, your eyes darting over to the sleeping baby. When you turned back, Daryl was giving you that smirk that might have melted your panties had you not been so sore that you were certain the pain had already finished that job.
“Hey, pot, I’m kettle.” Lips curved into a smile, you pushed yourself from the bed and wrapped your arms around his middle, head on his chest. “We’ll be fine. You go, so you can get back to us.”
Daryl pulled back just enough for you to look up, his finger hooking beneath your chin. This kiss was gentle, unhurried, ending before it could once again attempt to transform into something you couldn’t have.
“I’ll be back soon. Keep ‘er safe.” He stroked the apple of your cheek with his thumb. “You stay safe.”
You nodded. “I will. I promise.” After a moment, he dropped his hand and returned your nod with a jerk of his chin. Watching him grab his gear, you frowned. You didn’t want him to go, but you knew he was right. You needed the meat. You needed to be able to nurse Birdie. Finding formula would be next to impossible, one of those things survivors would have fought, killed, and died to obtain.
Daryl stopped at the other side of the bed, bending carefully to press his lips to little Birdie’s forehead. “Be good for your mama.” The baby slept on, completely unbothered. When he straightened and adjusted his bag, his attention turned to you. “See ya soon.”
He was halfway out the door when you quietly called his name. “I love you, asshat.” He smiled at you, warm and genuine albeit small, patting the door frame before stepping out. With a sigh, you dropped your eyes to your sleeping daughter. “Just you and me for a bit, Birdie.” Lying down continued to be one of the best reliefs you had ever felt. “And I am going to sleep.” Your eyes had no more than closed when the newborn grunted and began to shift around. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Sunrise came and went, dousing your hopes of any real rest. Exhausted, you wrapped a crying Birdie in her blanket and shuffled out of the room where Carol was tending to some oatmeal over a small fire. “Carol.” You sniffled, lip wobbling. You were just too tired to try and hide it. The woman looked up with a smile that vanished as soon as she saw your state.
“Oh, honey.” The smile returned, softer and full of understanding.
“How do I turn her off?” You stood a few feet away, softly rocking and bouncing to no avail. Birdie was determined to call every walker in the vicinity.
“Here, let me take her.” You turned to find Lori approaching, arms open, and passed your bundle off to her without a second thought. “Come on.” Supporting Birdie on one arm, she was able to take your hand and lead you back to the bedroom.
“She just—nothing helps. Not even Daryl taking her. I don’t think she likes us.” You gingerly sat down on the bed and observed, Lori bending awkwardly with her rounded belly and your daughter. She grabbed up one of the bags and sat it beside you.
“She loves you both, sweetheart. She’s just doing what babies do. Can you get a pacifier out for me, please?”
You nodded feebly, wiping at your face before beginning the search. You were pretty sure you knew what a pacifier looked like. You couldn’t rely on packaging. Carol had removed everything that could possibly go in Birdie’s mouth and boiled it.
“One of these?” You held up a small bag of binkies with a desperately hopeful expression. Lori smiled.
“That’s them. Good job, mama.”
You passed one to her—green with a little frog on the end—while she shushed and cooed at your disgruntled baby. “Is something—did I do something wrong?”
“Not at all. She may be gassy or—has your milk come in yet?” With a finger gently holding the pacifier in Birdie’s mouth, she watched you. The baby finally accepted it and quieted almost immediately. You sighed in relief.
“How would I know—about the milk?”
“Well, for starters, if those bra pads aren’t drenched when you’re getting up to feed her, then it likely hasn’t.”
Your stomach clenched and rolled. You shook your head. “Is she—am I starving her?”
“No, honey.” She sat next to you, patting the baby’s bottom rhythmically as she swayed side to side. “She may not be fully satisfied, but she’s not starving. Maybe we can send the boys out to find some formula to supplement.”
You couldn’t mask the stricken expression, just too damn tired. “When—how long does it take?”
“Stress and nutrition have a lot to do with it, and let’s face it. We’re abundant in one and lacking in the other.” Using her belly to help support Birdie’s weight, she reached out and smoothed a hand over your hair and then cupped your cheek. “Why don’t you lie down? Carol and I can watch the baby and—”
“Birdie.” You smiled fondly. Lori beamed at you.
“That’s so sweet.”
You nodded, feeling proud of your partner’s choice. “Daryl picked it. Birdie Jade.”
“Well, Carol and I will watch Miss Birdie Jade. I’ll bring her in to nurse and you can get some good sleep in between. How’s that sound?”
“Like you two are fucking angels.”
“You Dixons and your mouths.” She chuckled. You straightened and blinked. You weren’t a Dixon. Is that how they saw your relationship with Daryl? Swallowing hard, you ducked your head, actually being the one to blush. “Don’t think on it too hard.” Lori chuckled with a wink, levering her way upright. “Get some sleep.”
As intriguing and terrifying as the thoughts she had sparked were, you didn’t need to be told twice.
“Y/N! Y/N, wake up!” Carol’s voice was frantic, her grip on your shoulder tight and hurried. You shot upright, the fog of sleep clouding your awareness, panic gripping your heart from her tone.
“What? What’s wrong? Where’s Birdie?” You were clambering off of the bed, Carol steadying you when you staggered, still under the intense clutches of exhaustion.
“Lori has her. Come on, we have to go.” She shouldered one of the bags and shoved the other toward you. “A herd, we have to move.” She bolted toward the door and out of your sight.
“Okay, okay!” You stumbled out after her clumsily pulling the bag over your shoulders, looking back to ensure you had everything. The room was so simple, even under the gaze of your bleary eyes. It was the first room you had shared with Daryl and Birdie. Where you had felt like a family. It shouldn’t hurt as much as it did. The farm was a sensible loss to mourn, but this was a room. A simple room in a random house.
“Y/N!” You heard Carol’s voice ring out from somewhere nearby.
“Fuck.” You said with genuine sorrow. The moment the little bundle in Lori’s arms came into view, a weight lifted from your chest. “Please.” You held out your arms even as Rick and T-Dog bellowed for everyone to run. Lori passed Birdie to you, barely a glimpse of her little face before you began to run.
“The truck won’t start!” Glenn was running toward you, taking down two walkers in his path.
“Damnit! Everyone to the van!” Rick ordered, stopping to usher everyone ahead of himself.
Birdie jostled against your chest as you ran, thankfully she seemed content with the movement, continuing to sleep. The walkers’ numbers were growing thicker around you. Carol, Maggie, and Glenn were circling you, Lori, Carl, and Beth but it wasn’t enough.
Daryl.
Using your forearm and hand, you stabilized Birdie as best you could, drawing your knife. Stabbing the closest walker, you kicked it off your blade and spun for the next, repeating the process. Over and over, you held your ground until you were panting and aching, but they just kept coming, hindering your slow trek to the van. It wasn’t until a cold, dead hand twisted into the baby’s blanket and tugged that you absolutely saw red. Your hold on her was unyielding, the strength of a mother that you didn’t realize you had until that moment.
Daryl, please.
Severing the hand at the wrist, you stabbed the walker in the eye, kicking it to the ground. Bowing over your baby, you ran, using your momentum and your body to plow through the undead toward the van, knocking them off balance just enough to allow your continued sprint until you were opening the back hatch and climbing inside, closing it behind you.
Daryl, we need you.
You knew that extra second that one of your friends would need to take to open up the van could mean life or death, but your sole focus was on Birdie. You unwrapped her and pulled down the zipper of her sleeper, turning her this way and that to inspect for scratches or bites, finding her skin unmarred.
“Oh, thank god.” She was wailing by that time but calmed into hiccups on your shoulder, the warmth of your body and her blanket enough to soothe her for the time being. “Good job, baby. You’re okay. Mama’s here. You’re okay.”
She’s okay, Daryl.
The hatch opened, your knife in your hand as if walkers had suddenly evolved and could work the handle, but as Carol and the others began to filter inside, you exhaled and sank against the back of the passenger seat. Lori made her way to you with a certain amount of difficulty.
“Is she okay? Are you?”
You nodded, unable to articulate the relief that was suppressing your ability to form words.
Both front doors swung open, Rick and T-Dog climbing inside.
“Roll call!” The former deputy shouted, starting the vehicle just before you heard—and felt—the tires catch on the gravel in search of traction.
You could already see every face accounted for, but allowed the system, if for nothing more than to ease Rick’s mind.
“What about Daryl?” You asked quickly, the words tripping over one another as they exited your mouth.
“We’ll leave him some clues. You know how good he is at tracking. He’ll find us.”
Rick spoke nothing but the truth. Still, the thought of Daryl alone was enough to make your stomach hurt, your heart beat a little faster. He’d be beside himself with worry for his daughter, for you. You didn’t want to imagine that experience. Birdie was safe in your arms, but Daryl wasn’t at your side and you could hardly stand it.
Birdie stirred, squeaking, her little face growing red. “Ssh.” You soothed, turning your back to everyone, facing the side of the interior and the window. Arranging your shirt and bra, you situated the baby to your breast, her little lips wrapping around the nipple to suckle eagerly. Still, you could sense her unease. She knew as well as you did that her daddy wasn’t close by, a stressor she’d expressed even from within your womb.
“It’s okay, Birdie girl. Daddy will find us.”
Hopefully soon.
Gazing out the window, you watched the trees fly by in blurred mixtures of brown and green, most of the leaves still missing from the cold weather. You saw Daryl’s face in every gap, heard his voice whisper reassurance.
Stay safe, love.
#murda writes#daryl dixon#blood ties#daddy!daryl#the walking dead#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon angst#daryl dixon smut#dad!daryl#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon the walking dead#daryl dixon twd
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https://www.tumblr.com/webslingingslasher/721605644038389760/pregnancy-scare-with-fratpeter-what-would-he-do?source=share
Is there ever a pregnancy scare after they're in the girlfriend phase?
*cleaning out my drafts. mentions of pregnancy and a slight suggestion of abortion.*
you groan at the gentle shake you're receiving and you shrug it off while half awake. you're unbelievably tired and the small window of rest you got wasn't enough.
'trouble? c'mon, get up.' peter's hand comes down rough on your backside, you whine and roll over. 'but i'm sleepy-eepy.' the warmth of peter's bed is ripped away from you, he's holding the blanket in his hands.
'now i'm cold.' and while it's not peter's fault and he's only doing what you asked, you feel a little frustrated at the knowledge of not being able to go back to sleep.
'if you get up now, i'll shower with you. ten, nine, eight, seven... that's my girl, super proud of you.'
you might've woken up grouchy, but peter set your mood right in the shower and now you keep giving his arm little kisses. 'my handsome man.' peter speaks into your hairline, 'it's just a white shirt, you heathen.'
you softly dig your teeth into the thick of his bicep while his aunt has her back turned mixing up a side salad. you pull back without a trace and talk into his skin. 'and my man looks so yummy in it.'
'see? that nap energized you more than you thought.'
'that or your precious mouth and nice way you use it on me.' peter gives you a charming smile. 'you're on a roll tonight, trouble.' you wrap your arms around his and give a final mark, it's time to be a smidge respectful in his childhood home.
peter breaks away to refill your wine glass and top may's off. you thank him with a small kiss, may thanks him by asking him to grab rolls from the oven.
---
there's a positive pregnancy test in your shaking hands. each time you blink it becomes more and more clear, you clutch your stomach as if you already had a month nine belly.
'fuck.'
what are you supposed to do?
tears fall fast, they hit your palms and positive test before you look around the bathroom. why are you alone? where's peter? you think of your boyfriend, you think of how royally fucked this makes things.
call it selfish but you wanted peter all to yourself for a few years and now you're jumping forward a hundred steps. 'fuck.' this isn't fair to either of you, you don't have it figured out yet.
you stare at the test one more time, you need to be sure. you close your eyes and count to ten, no matter how many times you try, the answer doesn't change.
'holy fucking shit, i'm-'
about to piss your pants. you fly up from the bed lightning fast, hightailing it to peter's bathroom before holding your head in your hands. you're drowsy and reminding yourself it was just a dream, but it felt so real.
but, no, just a dream. it's a dream because you're not pregnant. you just had your period... you just had it... it's only been... your stomach drops, why can't you remember? in four seconds you are wide, wide awake and you're going for your phone on peter's nightstand.
it's three in the morning and you haven't had a period in at least five weeks.
'peter, get up.' you're not soft spoken or gentle, you're full of terror and he's about to be too. you push at his arm roughly, it stirs him just enough you could break through the sleep.
'peter, get up right now.' a slow whine, you're not playing and his stubbornness is about to have you wake up the entire apartment complex. 'get the fuck up, peter.'
you're mean but it's the only thing stopping you from going full blown psycho and curling into a screaming, crying ball on his floor.
'peter,' you rush out his name one more time, this time he responds.
'what’s go-‘
'i think i'm pregnant and i'm about to freak the fuck out and i really, really need you to keep me from doing that right now.' it hits all at once, you try to breathe but you can't. it's peter's turn to fly up from the bed, he only goes as far as he needs to wrap you in a tight hug.
'trouble,' the name makes you sob, you really are trouble. 'shh, you're okay, we're okay.' it's not fair of peter to hold you calmly as if he's not scared shitless himself. 'we're so fucked, peter. i ruined everything.'
your mind is spinning and your boyfriend is keeping you grounded. 'nothing is ruined, nothing is fucked. we're okay, i promise we're okay.' no, peter's not thinking how you are. he doesn't understand what you just did to you both.
'i did, i really, really did. we just graduated, we don't live together, you're still waiting for that research position to open and my boyfriend slash baby daddy is going to die because he's also spider-man.'
it's all ruined. you don't even know what you ruined and that's the worse part, you ended it before it started.
'hey, trouble. one thing at a time, okay? we have time to figure it out if we need to. do we need to go get a test?' you nod, the idea of your dream turning into reality makes you want to sob.
'speaking of dying, i killed the last three plants ethan gave me. so, how nice is that? a dead dad and a mom who kills.' peter hugs you tighter, he wants to push all your suffering into him right now. you go one further, this is the final nail in the coffin.
'what if i'm not ready to be a mom?'
'we have time to figure-' he doesn't understand. 'no, what if i'm not ready to be a mom?' a soft kiss on your forehead tells you he read between the lines, it also tells you he doesn't resent you for the idea.
'i'm here for you, okay? i'm here for whatever decision you make and we'll figure it out together. we're a team. and i promise you, trouble, i'm not dying. kid or no kid, i won't let spider-man be the thing that does me in.'
you want this with peter, you really do. just... not now. a baby this young was never in the cards, you feel like you shouldn't be in this position but you played stupid games and won an unexpected prize.
'fuck. peter, i really think i might be pregnant.'
peter's being a strong front because you need it but he's just as unprepared as you are. 'have you been feeling sick?' you shake your head, you've felt normal until this very moment.
'i had i dream i was staring at a positive test and it felt so real that it woke me up and then i couldn't remember the last time i had my period so i looked at my phone and we're charting into week five.'
peter almost lets a curse slip, he contains it for you. 'okay, we're okay. i promise we're okay, we just need to make sure if you're pregnant or not. can you wait until morning or do we need to go now?'
peter using 'you' and 'pregnant' in the same sentence makes you want to throw up and you can't blame it on potential morning sickness. you're disgusted in yourself. this wasn't the timeline.
you couldn't last another few hours in this state, you'd go mad in record timing. 'now. right now.' in under a minute peter is stuffing a hoodie over your head and a shirt over his. you feel yourself on the verge of a breakdown but peter's outstretched hand tells you he's here for it.
---
'what if you resent me in like...' peter's already shaking his head, you can't put a date on it, what if it's now? 'wait, is it already happening? do you hate me?'
peter stops with you outside of the bodega right up the road from his apartment, he had been listening to your spiral the entire time with a calm demeanor.
'stop. i know this wasn't the plan and i know this isn't what we wanted right now but i don't want you thinking i could ever hate you or blame you for this. i wish i could make you feel better about this, trouble. i love you, i love you more than i have ever loved anything. i love you more than i thought was possible. i love you more than any song or book or movie could ever describe. and guess what? i'd love our kid just the same. shit, maybe even more cause you gave me one.'
is it hormones or is it because that's the best thing he could've ever told you at this moment? you crush him in a hug, he's a little surprised but holds you just the same. 'thank you.' for the first time since you woke up, you're able to breathe.
peter doesn't say you're welcome because you don't have anything to thank him for. he's doing what he'd do if this was however many years in the future and when it was a bit more planned. 'i didn't bring my wallet.'
peter scoffs, 'you think i'd make you pay for this?'
'i already feel like a burden.'
'trouble.' you bite your tongue, if peter can be nice enough to hold a poker face, you can stop telling yourself he secretly hates you. you need an answer and it lies inside the shop in a little box.
peter's holding the test, you couldn't bring yourself to touch it. you're standing in front of the refrigerator section staring at the drink selection, more than half focused on your reflection instead. peter catches on and taps your hand, you blink awake and look at three different cans before your brain hurts.
'what should i get?'
'whatever you want, trouble.'
'i can't think.' you can't. it's either total silence and dissociation or racing thoughts, you don't know peace anymore. if you're carrying his child, peter can pick a drink for you.
'hm. are you in the mood for something flavored?'
sweet. sugary. something to coat your mouth with a lasting aftertaste even if the news you were about to receive was on the bitter side.
'yeah.' peter nixes the three shelfs of water. 'carbonated or not?' too much of a choice, you shrug half-heartedly. 'i don't know.' peter looks behind him, a different choice entirely.
when's the last time you had an icee?
you don't notice peter walk off, you slipped back into staring at yourself in a baggy hoodie. if you jumped forward six months, how tight would it be?
peter grabs a small cup, looks at the clear-blue box in his hand and grabs a large one instead. a mixture of cherry and coke, it's nearly freezing his hand. it's going to be enough to keep your mind in the land of the living.
you find peter, lean against his back and close your eyes, he makes small movements and allows you to rest your weight on him. you're tired. mentally and emotionally. 'trouble?' you perk up again, peter halfway turns to hand over a frozen drink big enough for four.
'a slushie?' you give it a taste, you sip it down until your throat burns. 'heck yeah. and look at that, you love it.' he's not wrong. you can't remember the last time you had one and this somehow just made things a little better.
'it's making me feel better.'
'see? everyone needs some sugar now and then.'
---
for someone who made peter get out of bed at three in the morning and force him down to the corner store for a pregnancy test, you sure can't stomach the idea of taking it.
if it's a no, it'll be the biggest breath of fresh air you've ever had. if it's a yes, you and peter's life is about to forever change and you don't think you're ready for that yet.
you might not get peter to yourself for a few years, but you have him tonight and that's comfort enough. 'ready?' you intertwine your fingers with peter as he asks and pulls you out the front door. it's a quiet walk back sharing your cup of sugar before you silently creep back inside his aunt's apartment.
'ready to pee?'
you shake your head, peter offers his laptop up. ten minutes into a show, you have to go. fifteen minutes, it's pressing. twenty and you're about to burst.
you're not ready for the answer.
you'd be a bad mom.
'i drank wine tonight, peter. that's so bad, i'm such a bad person.'
'you're not a bad person, trouble. guess what? no one knows they're pregnant until they know. it's not your fault you kept living life how you normally do.'
you might've fucked things up but you chose the best person to do it with.
'i have to pee.' for just a teeny, tiny second- peter's guard faults. he's just as scared of the results, it fills you with solace. you're not the only one here who doesn't want this, even if he won't tell you so.
'want me to come with?'
you shake your head and don't even look at the box when you swipe it from his desk. your hand shakes as you tear the blue plastic, it's dawned on you that this is the first time you've ever taken one. you never thought you’d be here.
you hold your eyes closed while you do it as if the results would show immediately. you snap the cap back into place and hide it behind you. starting a five minute timer, you wait on the answer to the future.
poking your head out from his bathroom you clear your throat. 'counting down.'
'how are you feeling? still doing okay?' you nod, you're really thankful he has your back tonight. it's nice to know that when you're truly falling apart, he's your backbone.
'i love you.'
'i love you too, sweetheart.'
you've been so good and so brave this whole time, you haven't cried once. but that just broke you and you can't place why. you try to will away the sting in your eyes, it doesn't work.
a broken whimper and you can't hold it in anymore.
you fall apart and before you could collapse to the floor, peter's tucking you into his chest and kissing your head. 'shh, you're okay. i promise you're okay, you have me. you'll always have me.'
'promise?'
'i promise, trouble. don't you remember? i couldn't let you go if i tried.'
'i know you said to stop but i'm really sorry and i need you to know that.' peter feels his heart break, he must've done something wrong at some point to make you think he could ever be upset at you for this.
but peter thinks you need him to accept it. 'it's okay. i know you're sorry and it's okay.' you relax and exhale into him, you stop your tears because crying is useless and it's only making you feel worse.
'i'm being so annoying, aren't i?'
'not in the slightest, do you see how long it took you to cry?'
you sniff and wipe away any stray tears before giving peter a pathetic pucker. 'kiss, please.' you're granted the slow and soft kind, the one that is just pure care and adoration.
'will you promise to keep having sex with me if i'm pregnant?'
peter can't hold in his laugh, you hear yourself and giggle with him. 'i promise, trouble. you can get it anytime. i mean, you already do, but with my baby in you- you'll get absolutely anything you want, whenever you want.'
'even if i want cheetos at two in the morning?' peter thinks that's light work, he graces your cheek with a kiss of the same kind. 'especially then.' it's not always rainbows and butterflies. 'what about when my belly pops, my hormones hit the ceiling, my feet are swollen, i'm hot all the time, and i just constantly scream at you?'
'you wouldn't do that.' well, you're not planning on it but you have no idea what effects this will have on you. 'but if you did, i'd take it in stride. if i was carrying around twenty pounds that made me constantly want to piss my pants, i'd be grumpy too.'
'we're gonna be so tired.'
'we already are.'
you chew on your bottom lip for a moment. 'what if i get stretch marks?'
'from growing my kid? couldn't think of anything sexier, trouble.'
it's not what was planned, but if this is how it'll be, you'll be okay. peter was right, you would figure it out. together.
'you have an answer for everything.'
'that's why you love me so much. you needed to find someone who could keep up with you.'
'and oh boy can you keep up and catch me.'
you match his smile, you feel good. you feel like things aren't so ruined now. 'it's my favorite thing to do.' you scrunch your nose up at him before giving a small jump to your alarm tone.
you end the timer. 'oh god.' that.
'don't undo what we just did. no more panic, we're okay with this, right? if it's a yes, we're doing this?'
it's terrifying to think you could be a parent in under a year but something tells you that you'll be just fine with peter by your side. 'yeah, we're doing this.'
peter nods towards his bathroom door, 'ready?'
for the first time tonight, you feel confident. 'yes.' you back up for the results, wrapping your palm around the middle until you're next to peter again.
you both take a deep breath and you finally get to see the answer.
peter exhales out, 'holy shit.'
your shoulders slump when you mutter out, 'thank god.'
'holy fuck, i thought my stomach was about to come out of my ass for a second. don't get me wrong if it was-'
'i was right there with you, petey. we could've figured it out but thank god we don't have to.' you hold a hand over your heart and feel calm wash over you. 'are we bad people for being happy about this?'
peter shakes his head. 'no, not at all. we're not ready for that yet, but now we know we could be.'
you think you're speaking for the both of you and you think it needs to be said. 'to be clear, we do want kids, just later down the road. and this was just a little scare but now that we know we don't want any right now, we should be a little more careful about how we do things, right?'
'a hundred percent, trouble. you said it before i could.'
'good.' you take another peek at the test, double confirmation. 'now can you please feed me? i'm famished.'
even if you weren't pregnant, peter would do anything for you.
'anything my baby wants, she gets.'
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Little Gold Top: (4) Kate Martin x Reader
Summary: You and Kates twisted past. (Previous) (TOC)
Warnings: Underage and unhealthy drinking/drug use, references to sex/drunk hookups, toxic relationships (Kate and reader)
AN: buckle up y'all. I REALLY hope you guys get this its so late 😭
Halloween Sophmore Year
Messy. You and Kate have always been messy in your head. The two of you seemed to only exist together when the both of you were black out or high out of your minds. You couldn't exactly recall the number of times her hands had dropped below your shoulders and into your pants, or the ammount of times you had hungrily kissed her. Or the ammount of times you would wake up alone and find some article of her clothing forgotten on your floor.
This would mark one year since the first time you had woken up in her dorm. Maybe you were silly for remembering this. The thought lingered in the back of your head as you got ready. Maybe it was basic of you to go as a black cat, but your only goal tonight was to get drunk enough to forget your latest fling. Another masc, indie, art major with bleach blonde hair. You had ended it last night. You took another shot before drawing your whiskers on with eyeliner. "You need to slow down, you're gonna get drunk before you even get to the party." Gabbie looked at you disapprovingly. She truly was your other half, but right now you didn't want a voice of reason you wanted Kate you wanted to be drunk. You rolled your eyes at her as you walked out of the bathroom, pulling on your shoes.
"God finally you guys are ready, can we leave now?" Caitlin immediately shot out of her chair, walking towards the door in her cowboy boots. You could feel Kates eyes glued to your exposed thighs as she complemented you and Gabbie on your contrasting costumes. Just a reminder of how you knew this night was going to end. Jada walked up to you with a big smile on her face "well don't you look cute!" You giggled at her enthusiasum and her little mouse ears, everything is funny when you're a little drunk, "we need some hot pics tonight for my insta!" You guys had dressed up as a cat and mouse for the second year in a row. You grinned back at her, "Yesss of course!"
As the five of you made your way down the dorm halls and out towards the frats, you found your eyes drifting towards Kate. You continued this action throughout the night, constantly finding her dumb unicorn horn above the crowd. She fucked you in the back of her car that night. You think that was the last time it truly meant nothing. You were both hammered, neither of you really remebered anything from that night. Atleast you didn't. Just the fog on the windows and the pop song blasting through her crappy toyota corolla speakers.
New Years Sophmore Year
After Halloweekend, and multiple more blackout party weekends with Kate, you decided to go sober. No more blackout weekends, no more greening out in random basements, no more Kate. Emphasis on no more Kate. Over a year of useless hookups, it was time to move on. Find something serious. Maybe a brunette, short, fem with brown eyes and a vowl at the beginning of her name. No more blondes.
You repeated this like an oath in your head as you knocked on the apartement door. Kate and Caitlin had moved into an off campus apartement together over break. Their first "to do" was to host new years. Clad in a black mini skirt and a gold croptop you shivered in the hall. The door swung back, revealing the one and only Kate Martin. "Hey..." You stared up at her. Distance really does make the heart grow fonder, the purple lights from inside the apartement cast an odd glow into the badly lit hallway. "You cold?..." She reached a hand out to graze over your arm, shamelessly staring at your boobs sequined shirt. The air felt thick, not in a sexual tension way. You felt like you could see the longing through her eyes, the need for something more. Maybe you were just projecting but suddenly in her eyes you saw children and a big old farmhouse with a pickett fence.
"So are you gonna let her in or are you just gonna let her freeze out there?" As Caitlin poked her head around the corner Kate snatched her hand back as if she had been burned. She stepped to the side, letting you shuffle into the warm apartement.
You remeber that night clear as day. You succeded with 2/3 of your goals. However, you made one critical mistake. You let Kate walk you back to your dorm. Alone. She wrapped her thick coat over your shoulders as you two walked silently. The random hookups had really put a twist on your relationship, but it gave you a weird sense of safety. You were fine with the silence, you were fine with her holding your hand, you were fine with her eyes constantly drifiting towards your shirt. You looked up at her "I think I owe you an apology." she glanced over at you, pressing her lips between her teeth before looking back at the ground. "What do you mean?" You were silent for a minute before looking up at the sky. "Well you know... this last year... I haven't really been a great friend." You stopped walking and stared expectantly at her face, admiring the slope of her nose and the deep blue in her eyes. She hesitated again, you could see something brewing behind her eyes as you felt your gut sink "Wanna make it up to me?" You stared up at her as she stepped closed, gently wrapping her arms around your waist as she pulled you in for a kiss.
You two took it up stairs, tripping over your dorm carpet as she pushed you back towards your bed. That night wasn't messy. Well i mean... You remebered every moment, her sweet hands, every "I love you" you murmered against her neck, all of it.
When you opened your eyes the next morning you expected to feel a warm Kate in bed with you. However, you woke up to an empty bed. You could feel your heart crack as it hit you that you would never truly have Kate. At least not how you wanted.
After this, you decided to limit your interactions. This quicky backfired. You would go to the bars with your friends and watch from afar as Kate would have a few and take some random girl home. You were always convinced they looked a little like you, maybe you were just desperate for a sign. They deffinately looked like you. During practice Kate would overcompensate to try and distract from your terrible attitude towards her. You would refuse to pass the ball to her or even look at her, and she would just laugh it off, until she couldn't find it funny anymore. After a while, the team just came around to the idea that you and Kate just weren't friends anymore. You both played pretty terribly. The season ended pretty quickly after that, and you didn't see her until next fall.
Junior Year First Team Dinner
The deja vu as she walked you back to your apartement was intense. The silence wasn't comforting, instead it seemed to loom over the two if you. She didn't hold your hand or wrap her jacket around your shoulders. She didn't even look at you as she spoke, "For the well being of the team..." She looked up towards your apartement door, "I think its best we start fresh." Kate stopped walking and turned to face you, face blank. Internally, you wanted to rip her head off. Yell at her and blame her for the fact that you two got this bad. You knew it wasn't solely her fault, but for your mental well being it was 100% her fault. You reached the front door of your apartement and she stared at you expectantly. You didn't bother meeting her eyes as you spat back "Whatever you want Kate, just leave me alone." You walked into the lobby, leaving her outside in the cold.
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from eden, part X
Word count: 10,825
Warnings: Language, violence, blood/injury, victim blaming, self-deprecation, fictional racism, discussion of past abuse, temporary death
Summary: After an unwise decision, Tango and Jimmy find themselves in Hels, at odds, and up against an old foe seeking revenge. But as everything comes to a boil, Tango realizes he must finally confront his past if he has any hope of saving his future.
A/N: Hey y’all, thanks so much for ur patience. Didn’t mean for this to take so long, I’ve been dealing w some health issues, but I’m doing way better now and on break from school so here we are. I hope u enjoy, please reblog/comment if u do! - Aqua
~*~
from eden, part X - no ‘who cares,’ no vacant stares, no time for me
~*~
Somewhere in Hels, a player stares at his soulmate in shock.
Tango could’ve sworn Jimmy was asleep. He checked, he checked multiple times to make sure Jimmy was well and truly unconscious before slipping out of bed. And he’d been so careful about it, moving so slowly and quietly to ensure Jimmy wasn’t woken up. All he’d needed was for Jimmy to keep sleeping for not even five minutes- just long enough for Tango to sneak downstairs, grab the supplies he’d secretly prepared earlier, go through the portal, and break it from the other side.
Yet here they are.
The abrupt silence after their mutual outburst is blanching. There’s almost a static feeling to it, like electricity gathering in the air before a lightning strike. All of Tango’s previous thoughts have flown clean out of his brain. He can only stare at Jimmy, forehead stinging, mouth slightly parted as he struggles to make sense of what he’s seeing.
Jimmy looks similarly disoriented. He sits in a heap in front of the portal, bathed in the green-yellow-red light, his wings splayed out around him. His nose is scrunched up- still wincing from the pain of Tango’s forehead smacking into his chin, most likely. The recently-obtained scar across the newly-formed bump on the bridge of his nose stands out in sharp contrast against his other, more familiar, features. He said it didn’t bother him, but Tango feels a stab of guilt every time he looks at it. Even now, it’s a reminder of the pain Tango’s brought him. Of how Tango’s failed him.
Jimmy recovers first.
“What am I- what are you doin’ here?!” he cries, rising to his feet.
Realization dawns on Tango as he finally grasps the reality of this impossible scenario he’s found himself in.
Jimmy’s here. In Hels. Jimmy is in Hels. Jimmy is in Hels. Oh. Oh no, oh that’s the opposite of what Tango wants. This is bad. This is really, really bad. This is a whole heap of bad with extra badness on top. Jimmy can’t be in Hels, he should never be in Hels.
“Tango,” Jimmy presses, taking a step forward, “are you listenin’ to me?”
Tango jumps to his feet, heart pounding. He quickly scans their surroundings- still no players to be seen, though some of those magma cubes in the distance are getting close. He knows they’re on borrowed time; there’s at least two players in this world who are bound to notice his arrival in chat, and the clock’s ticking.
“Tango?” Jimmy says again, uncertainty leaking into his voice. “You alright?”
Adrenaline floods Tango’s body. He feels hyper aware, like all his senses are in overdrive- his skin is prickling with heat, and if it weren’t for the wither rose collar, he’s certain his blaze rods would be swirling around in a defensive inferno.
He needs to get Jimmy out of here.
Despite their difference in height, Tango’s strong enough that he could probably push Jimmy back into the portal. He’d have the element of surprise, initially. But Jimmy’s build isn’t just for show- Tango would have a hard time keeping him in the portal for the few crucial seconds required to teleport. He might even get teleported back, himself.
So instead of attempting brute force, Tango stalks forward- though not close enough to be grabbed- flattens his ears, bares his teeth, and hisses.
“Go home,” Tango hisses lowly. “Right. Now.”
That seems to take Jimmy aback. He raises his eyebrows, incredulous. “Ex-cuse me?” he demands, putting his hands on his hips. “Now, hang on-”
“You shouldn’t be here!” Tango interrupts, his voice catching somewhere between anger and desperation. “This is-”
“You shouldn’t be here! What-”
“You’re not safe here-”
“- tryin’ to- well, neither are you!”
“- and you need to go back!”
“I’m not goin’ back without you!” Jimmy gives up on trying to keep his voice down, wings flaring out in agitation. “I thought we were in this together! I- god, Tango, we want to help you, we all just wanna help-”
“It’s not your problem!” Tango snaps, his temper rising. “Alright? It was my mistake that brought Bravo and Hels Tek to our door, you- why should you have to deal with it? What, just ‘cause we got randomly assigned to be soulmates? You didn’t sign up for all this!”
Jimmy’s expression darkens. “Yes, I did, that’s what it means to be a partner.” He reaches for Tango’s arm. “Tango, I love you-”
“I know!” Tango jerks away. “I know that, okay? But you- did it ever occur to you that maybe I love you, too? Maybe I don’t want you to put yourself at risk fighting my battles for me? Because I love you?” He rakes his claws through his hair, a mirthless laugh escaping him. “Is that- did that happen to cross your mind? That maybe for once I- I did something ‘cause I love you and not ‘cause I hate myself? Maybe I could do the selfless act of love every now and then? I mean, is that- is that so hard to believe?”
Jimmy stares at him for a moment, brown eyes blown wide. Even in the absence of their soulbond, Tango can tell he’s hurt.
“That’s not what I meant,” Jimmy says finally, voice quiet. “I know you love me. Of course I know you love me. But Tango, honestly- can you honestly tell me that this decision wasn’t- that- that it had absolutely nothing to do with feelin’ like you deserve to be here?” he asks desperately. “No influence on your decision at all? Not a- a single part of you that thinks it’d be okay if you got trapped here again, suffering forever? Not even the slightest bit?”
Shit.
Tango sets his jaw. “That doesn’t matter.”
“Doesn’t matter?” Jimmy repeats, disbelieving. “Of course it does-”
“No, I don’t- you need to leave!”
“I’m not leavin’ you, I mean it!”
“I already told you, I don’t want-”
“Tango, please.” Jimmy holds out his hand. He looks close to tears. “Let’s go home. We’ll figure this out, alright?”
Tango swallows back a frustrated whine; he doesn’t have time for this. Atlas has no doubt already noticed his arrival, and he still needs to find Bravo. And the longer they stand here loudly arguing in front of an active portal, the greater the risk of discovery. It’s already a miraculous stroke of luck that the portal spawned in an uninhabited area.
Jimmy can’t force Tango back through the portal any more than Tango can force him. Besides, starting a physical fight with Jimmy would probably be his breaking point. This is hard enough already. He spends a precious second to take in Jimmy’s face; the thin line his mouth has pressed into, the tears brimming in his eyes, the scar across his crooked nose.
Then Tango turns on his heel and sprints away.
It’s a last-ditch effort kind of gambit. He’s hoping that if he loses Jimmy in the basalt delta, Jimmy won’t know what else to do but go back through the portal for help. And once he does, Tango can swoop in and break it. Problem solved.
There’s a surprised shout behind him. Wing beats fill the air as Jimmy takes flight. But Tango’s head start has already allowed him to reach the first outcropping of basalt, pock-marked with pools of lava. Without breaking stride, he leaps up onto the ledge of stone-
Only for his foot to catch on a tripwire.
Pistons go off while he’s still mid-jump. The ground opens up into a black pit beneath him. His claws scrape uselessly against the lip of basalt and suddenly he’s falling, stomach lurching, too shocked to even call out as wind whistles by his ears and he plummets into the darkness below, Jimmy’s voice screaming after him.
“Tango!”
Traps. He forgot to look for traps.
Weightless, Tango struggles to right himself. The hole is pitch black and it’s disorienting, wavering light from his dim blaze rods flickering against the walls. His mind races frantically. Even if he could pull a block from his inventory and place it down under him- and he’s not sure that he could, at the speed he’s falling- the damage would kill him anyways. No, better to see how this ends. If he’s dumb enough to fall for a trap, he should at least give it the satisfaction of killing him as intended.
Although, Tango’s been falling for more than a couple seconds and he hasn’t hit anything yet. That’s unusual. Few trappers care to dig holes this deep when a shallow pit of lava will have the same result. Maybe death isn’t the goal here. Maybe-
Light, somewhere down below. As it gets closer, Tango thinks he can see the walls of the hole open up into a larger room. But the bottom still goes down- into a pit of cobwebs. So that’s it. The trap was designed to capture players, not kill them. But why-
“Tango!”
Jimmy’s voice echoes wildly in the tunnel. Tango glances back over his shoulder to see Jimmy diving towards him, arms stretched forward and wings flattened, body straight as an arrow.
Tango doesn’t currently have the breath to call out to him. If he did, it’d probably be something along the lines of, ‘No no no no no, why did you follow me, you idiot!’ and that wouldn’t be very constructive.
Jimmy hooks his arms underneath Tango’s, snaps his wings out, and takes them sailing out through the gap in the tunnel.
The abrupt swerve makes Tango’s stomach drop. Jimmy barely manages to avoid taking them directly into a wall, wings flaring, wind whipping around them. They tumble into an ungraceful- but not deadly- landing, tangled up in a pile of limbs.
The room they’ve flown into is large but rather crude, carved out of the netherrack and deepslate that make up the deepest levels of Hels- more of a cavern, really. A few scattered torches along the walls provide the room’s only lighting, and they’ve landed among a collection of haphazardly-placed chests- a chest monster to rival Scar’s. The center of the room is occupied by the hole at the bottom of the dropchute. Beyond it is something that makes Tango’s blood run cold.
Half of the room is covered in elaborate redstone circuitry, feeding into an empty portal frame. It’s an eerily similar setup to their own portal, and Tango is at once certain he knows who this base belongs to.
He processes this all in the couple seconds it takes him to get on his feet. Jimmy’s still crumpled beside him, uninjured but disoriented. Shit. He hadn’t planned to have Jimmy with him for this confrontation and it has him on edge, his skin crawling. The room’s empty right now, but he can’t see another way out except back up through the dropchute- it’s a precarious place to be in. He doesn’t like what being backed into a corner does to him.
“Ugh,” Jimmy groans softly, pushing himself upright. “Not one’a my better landin’s…”
“Shh,” Tango hisses.
Jimmy frowns at him, rising to his feet. “Tango, can you just-”
“Quiet!” Tango urges, gaze flicking around the room. Their sudden presence doesn’t seem to have set off any alarms, but there’s no telling what the trap was hooked up to-
Ca-clunk.
Tango’s ears prick at the sound of more pistons. He whirls around, hackles rising, to see part of the adjacent wall open up.
“Well,” Bravo says, stepping into the room, “isn’t this convenient?”
Tango had been mentally preparing himself to see his doppelgänger again, but he’s still taken aback at the state Bravo’s in. His hair and clothes are wild and unkempt, the stains on his shirt indistinguishable between redstone and blood. There’s a weariness about him, like he hasn’t slept in days, yet every muscle in his body is tense, his bruised knuckles gripping a netherite sword. Most striking, however, is his face; his green eyes are so bloodshot they’re almost red, and heavily lined with dark circles that- in a bizarre way- resemble wither stains.
So for a moment, it’s like Tango’s looking in a mirror.
It passes quickly. Tango forces the tension from his body, holding up his hands. “Take it easy, alright, I just wanna talk.”
“I?” Bravo tilts his head to the side, taking another step forward as the wall closes up behind him. “Uh, it looks like- looks to me like there’s two of you, pal.” His gaze cuts over to Jimmy, and his mouth quirks into a grin- hard and humorless. “Good to see ya, Jimmy.”
Tango bristles. “Leave him out of this,” he says lowly, stepping in front of Jimmy. “He wasn’t supposed to come.”
Jimmy makes a noise of protest. “Hang on-”
“Ohh, oh okay,” Bravo says, nodding slowly, “I- I see what this is. This is- hah, wow, this is kinda perfect.” He begins to pace in front of them, idly twirling his sword in his hand; there’s an unsettling air about him. “Lemme guess, you uh- you intended to come here alone, but your soulmate had other ideas?”
He spits the word like an insult. Tango feels his lip curl. “None of your business.”
“Oh? It’s not?” Bravo barks out a laugh- a sharp contrast to the enraged look in his eyes. “Well, you’re in my fucking house, so, you know. Forgive my curiosity.”
Anger flares inside Tango; he pushes it down. “Look, I know we didn’t exactly get off on the right foot-”
“You fucking think?”
“Enough!” Jimmy shouts, wings flaring as he throws an arm out in front of Tango. “Bravo, listen to me. I don’t like you, alright, but we aren’t here to fight.”
“Obviously.” Bravo actually rolls his eyes. “I can- I can piece it together well enough, okay. You figured that you could come rescue me from Hels, and then I- everything will be peachy-keen, right? I mean, if- if you wanted me to stay here, you wouldn’t have opened a portal. Except this one,” he stops his pacing, leveling his sword at Tango, “got it in his thick head that it was somethin’ he needed ‘to do alone.’ So he snuck off by himself, on a solo mission of noble, stupid self-sacrifice, in the hopes that it’d make up for what he did-”
“Shut up,” Tango growls.
“- and that it’d keep you safe. Right?” Bravo’s voice drips with malice. “Except poor Jimmy’s too good to let you take the fall alone so he followed you here, right into my trap.”
“So what?” Tango demands with a bravado he doesn’t feel. Truthfully, Bravo’s words have opened a pit in his stomach; he hates that Bravo has seen through him so clearly. “What, I mean- you want a trophy for figuring it out? And- and why set a trap for us if your plan was clearly to get out through a portal of your own?”
Bravo scowls. “That trap wasn’t for you, actually. It’s for the damn mercenaries that’ve been comin’ after us since I split from Hels Tek.”
Jimmy frowns. “Us?”
Bravo’s face twitches. “Wh- me. Whatever.”
“You split from Hels Tek?” Tango asks, furrowing his brows. He knew Atlas and Bravo had fought back on Double Life, but he wasn’t sure if that’d be enough to make Bravo willingly take on Hels by himself.
Bravo snorts. “Yeah, I- I uh, I don’t take kindly to bein’ stabbed in the back, but Atlas still wanted a portal and wasn’t gonna take no for an answer, so.”
Tango would laugh at the irony, if he didn’t feel so sick to his stomach. “Wow,” he drawls, still unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, “so it turned out Atlas only cared about you as far as he could exploit you? Imagine that.”
Clearly, he’s touched a nerve. “Shut up,” Bravo snaps.
“Watch it,” Jimmy snaps back.
Unbothered, Tango glances around the cavern. “So wait, you- it’s only been like, what, a- a couple weeks since you respawned here, how- where did you get all these supplies?”
“Eh, found a new sponsor.” Bravo shrugs. “You know, I was probably only a few more days away from gettin’ my portal up and running ‘til you guys showed up. But it worked out nice this way, right?” There’s a manic light in his eyes. “I- I was gonna get my vengeance on you once I got back to the overworld, but instead, we can do it right now.”
That’s all the warning he gives before he attacks.
He’s fast, faster than Tango’s expecting. It’s all he can do to shove Jimmy out of the way, diving into a roll that brings him quickly back to his feet. He only brought one sword; he pulls it from his inventory and throws it to Jimmy without a second thought, because he doubts Jimmy prepared at all before coming through the portal and swords have always felt clumsy in his hands. There’s a reason traditional PVP has never been his strong suit.
The sword has barely left his grasp before Bravo’s springing at him again.
Screech!
Tango brings his claws up in time to catch Bravo’s blade between them. The force of the blow shudders through his arms. Bravo’s strong, too- stronger than Tango would think for a non-hybrid version of himself.
“Stop it!” Tango huffs. “We don’t wanna fight you!”
“Too bad!” Bravo sneers.
Well, if that’s what he wants. Tango ducks under the sword and brings a hand up to slash at Bravo’s face. Bravo disengages, darting backwards, out of reach- he readjusts his grip for another swing.
“Hey, lay off!”
Jimmy charges into the fray; Bravo pivots mid-swing to block Jimmy’s blade, the clang of metal reverberating through the cavern. He leans into the movement, bringing his leg up to deliver a swift kick to Jimmy’s side.
With a pained grunt, Jimmy stumbles, off-balance. Bravo raises his sword to slash again- but Tango rushes him, forcing him back. Claws swipe through empty air.
“Gotta do better than that,” Bravo tuts, flicking his sword out to nick Tango’s cheek.
The sharp pain and sudden scent of blood is disorienting. Tango lunges forward almost blindly, a snarl catching in the back of his throat. Rage bubbles inside him, and he can feel his fire trying to respond- but with the wither rose in his system, it’s like throwing a match into a well.
Bravo deftly steps around him. “There’s that famous Tango temper again!” he taunts. “Go on, show us exactly how much of a monster you are.”
The words sober Tango instantly. He swallows back his rage; the last thing he wants to do is lose control like he did back at the ranch, especially when Jimmy could get hurt. His fire may be dampened, but that doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous.
Then his ears twitch at a furious shout- Jimmy surges into the air, wings beating, and swoops down at Bravo. “Don’t you dare call him that!”
In the same moment, Tango moves to block Bravo’s escape route, aiming for his hands in an attempt to disarm him.
But Bravo’s ready for them both.
He ducks beneath Tango’s claws and side-steps Jimmy’s attack, jabbing the pommel of his sword into Tango’s gut as a parting blow. Wings flailing, Jimmy pulls up short to avoid slamming into Tango- and yelps as Bravo’s sword cleaves a handful of feathers into the air.
“Come on!” Bravo goads them. “That the best you can do?”
Tango hadn’t gotten much of a chance to actually observe Bravo fight during the Hels Tek invasion, and he’s sorely regretting it now. It’s clear Bravo’s got more experience with PVP than either of them. And not the type of casual sparring between friends, but genuine life-or-death fighting- fast, messy, and brutal. Even being two against one isn’t helping them much; Bravo keeps on the move, twisting through and around them with a practiced ease that leaves them struggling not to accidentally hit each other.
A detached part of Tango’s mind runs through their options. Being killed and ending up at the world spawn would be the worst-case scenario; they’d basically be gift-wrapped for Atlas to come snatch up. But he doesn’t think joining through a hacked portal would reset their spawns; after all, the Hels Tek invaders wound up back in Hels after they were killed. Of course, he’d rather not find out for certain. And if he ends up respawning back to Double Life, his entire goal in coming here alone goes up in smoke. He won’t get another chance at this- the other Double Lifers will insist on putting themselves in danger to help him, ‘cause they’re annoyingly kind like that, and everything will turn into a big flaming ball of disaster.
So it’s really in his best interest not to get killed right now.
Except, he can’t help but notice that Bravo actually doesn’t seem to be trying to kill them. Most of what he’s aiming for are non-vital structures- arms, legs, Jimmy’s wings. When he does land an attack above the belt, it almost seems like he’s holding back, leaving only shallow gashes or a blunt hit with a skillfully thrown fist, knee, or elbow.
And despite clearly being the superior fighter, he’s mainly staying on the defensive. He isn’t taking nearly as many swings as he could. It’s an endurance game, Tango realizes- he’s trying to tire them out. But why? He’s on his own, it’s not like he’s stalling for reinforcements. There’s nowhere for them to go. That is, nowhere except-
Tango’s gaze falls on the pit at the bottom of the dropchute.
Oh. Oh, that’s-
Wham!
Pain explodes through Tango’s skull.
Bravo’s taken advantage of Tango’s brief lapse in concentration, landing a solid punch on the side of his face. It’s enough to make him black out for a moment, every thought in his brain screeching to a halt. When he comes back to himself, his cheek is pressed against the floor, made warm and sticky with his pooling blood. There’s a faint ringing in his ears- above it, he can barely make out the sound of swords clashing somewhere in front of him.
Tango manages to lift his head, blinking spots from his vision.
Bravo is driving Jimmy back- back towards the center of the room where the pit is. Tango opens his mouth to scream a warning, but he’s too late. As they near the edge of the pit, Bravo suddenly steps under Jimmy’s guard, hooking a leg behind Jimmy’s foot as one hand comes up to twist his sword out of his grip. Bravo’s other arm slams against Jimmy’s chest, knocking him off-balance.
Jimmy falls backwards with a shout, into the pit of cobwebs. He doesn’t fall very deep, of course- that’s not how cobwebs work. But he is immediately stuck, wings and limbs straining as he slowly begins to sink.
“Jimmy!” Tango cries, his heart jolting.
Oh, this is bad. Getting out of cobwebs without a sword, while slowly falling through them, will be almost impossible. Especially since Jimmy’s feathers are particularly prone to sticking to that stuff and every movement will cause him pain as he pulls on them.
“There.” Satisfied, Bravo stows Jimmy’s sword in his inventory before turning back to Tango. “Now we can finally finish this.”
“No!” Jimmy pleads desperately from the pit, already disappearing from view. “Leave ‘em alone!”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not gonna kill him,” Bravo tuts as he approaches Tango. “That- I mean, that’d just send you back home, right? Hacked portals don’t do the whole spawn reset-ification thing, as it turns out.” He shakes his head. “No, I- what I’m gonna do is arrange a little meeting with our old buddy Atlas to come pick you up, okay, and- and then I’ll finally get him off my back and be able to leave this fucking place for good.”
Terror shoots through Tango. If Atlas comes here, with Jimmy trapped like this…
Head pounding, Tango struggles to get to his feet. “Y- you don’t have to do this,” he says weakly. “I know I messed up, a- and I’m sorry, okay? But Jimmy had nothin’ to do with it, he- you have to let him go, please.”
Bravo’s lip curls. “I’m not gonna let Atlas get him. Believe it or not, I meant it when I said I wouldn’t let another overworlder get trapped here.”
Despite the severity of the situation, the offended disdain in his tone makes Tango snort. “Oh, sorry, uh- excuse me for thinkin’ you’d ever do such a terrible thing,” he rasps. “I- I mean, you can’t blame me, right? You- it’s not like you’ve made a great impression.”
Bravo’s eyes darken with anger, and then his fist is in Tango’s stomach. The punch makes Tango double over, gasping for breath- then a well-placed kick throws him back against the wall, pain crashing through his ribs.
“What’re you doin’?!” Jimmy’s panicked voice sounds from the pit- he’s sunken far enough down that he can’t see them anymore. “Don’t hurt him!”
Bravo ignores him, stalking forward to grab Tango by the front of his shirt. “You’re one to talk, you piece of shit,” he hisses in Tango’s face, reeling back for another hit.
Crack.
This one lands the hilt of his sword against Tango’s jaw. Bravo drops him to the ground in a crumpled heap.
“Tango!” Jimmy’s scream sounds far away.
Everything is pain. With no small amount of effort, Tango pushes himself upright, breathing raggedly through his nose. He can feel blood trickling down his chin from his split lip, can taste it stained against his teeth. His head aches. His body is shaking. There’s a cold pit of dread in his stomach, and he knows that he’s lost this fight.
But more than that, deep down, there’s the realization that maybe… he always expected to.
(It’s not like coming here without Jimmy would’ve changed the outcome. No matter what Tango said or did, Bravo was always going to react this way- why would Tango think anything different? Despite his intention to extend the olive branch, he knows Bravo wouldn’t have been satisfied to just let bygones be bygones.
Truthfully, Tango had been prepared for this the moment he saw that red light fill their portal. Bravo had nailed it right at the start; this was always going to be a mission of self-sacrifice. If giving himself up meant placating Bravo and Hels Tek, if it meant that the people he cared about would be safe, then Tango had been willing to accept it. Even if it meant going back to the farm for the rest of his life.
He’s already had ten years in the sun. That’s more than anyone else in Hels got.)
Bravo looms over him, a mad, triumphant grin spreading across his face. “You’re gonna spend the rest of your days in that farm where you belong,” he says lowly, “and out of the life you stole from me. You’re nothin’ but an evil monster, and it’s what you deserve.”
A strange feeling settles over Tango.
It’s like déjà vu, to sit here and listen to his doppelgänger repeat all the horrible things Tango’s believed about himself almost his entire life, all the things he’s told himself in the mirror time and time again. It’s his words spoken in his voice out of an eerily similar face, as if all his deepest insecurities have taken form.
It’s achingly, hauntingly familiar. Like a knife tracing over old scars.
And yet, there’s something odd about hearing it from another person. To hear such hatred and conviction in that voice, to see it so plainly in his eyes. Tango’s well aware that there are plenty of players who feel the same way- not just about him, but other hostile mob hybrids, too. He’s no stranger to prejudice; he’s noticed the wary looks and distrustful glares he’s gotten on public multiplayer worlds before.
Hell, Atlas is attempting to build an empire on the very concept of oppressing hybrids, and he’s had plenty of help to do it. Not just his fellow redstone scientists, but sponsors and buyers, too. Lots of players have reason to want Tango in a farm, to exploit and degrade him. But only because they would profit from it- otherwise they wouldn’t bother wasting so much time and energy on him. Sure, Atlas probably hates him to some degree, and is indifferent at best to all the pain he’s been caused. But Tango’s also certain that if he weren’t useful, then Atlas wouldn’t give him a second thought. If he couldn’t be farmed, Atlas would never have come after him in the first place. It’s all about ambition with Atlas; he wouldn’t waste time on petty revenge schemes.
Bravo, on the other hand, stands to gain absolutely nothing from this except the satisfaction of knowing Tango is suffering. How strange, that the only player to ever really demonstrate that desire isn’t even from Hels.
And with that thought, everything falls into place.
Tango wheezes out a laugh, though he immediately regrets it- fuck, his ribs. “So that’s where I get my sadism from! Good to know, good to know.”
The smirk drops off Bravo’s face. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”
Tango wipes the blood from his face. “I mean, I- we- we’ve established that I’m just a uh, a physical manifestation of all the evil parts of you, yeah? That’s what Hels are? Well, if that’s true, then every bad thing about me is somethin’ I got from you.” He grins, despite the pain of his split lip. “Can’t pour from an empty bottle, right?”
Bravo balks at him. “No, that’s not- it’s different,” he argues. “It’s- this is justified, you took everything from me-”
“So now you’re gonna do the same?” Tango raises his eyebrows. Bracing a hand against the wall, he slowly rises to his feet. “Funny, I- I thought that you were supposed to be a better person than me.”
“I am!” Bravo insists angrily.
Tango shrugs. “Well, you sure ain’t actin’ like it, skippy.”
That seems to take Bravo aback. “I- I don’t-” He rakes a hand through his hair, his breathing quickening. “It’s- it’s you, it’s this fucking place, it’s- I don’t know, it’s every-fucking-thing that’s happened in the last ten years! I- I didn’t deserve this, I didn’t do anything to deserve getting sent here!”
“Hold on, what makes you think I did anything to deserve gettin’ sent here?” Tango asks, genuinely curious. “I was spawned here as a child, I mean, what- what could a child possibly do to ‘deserve’ spawning here? What could any of us have done to deserve this?”
Ooh, Bravo doesn’t like that question. “I don’t know,” he splutters, “I didn’t make you spawn here! That was the universe, it- it must know that you- all you Hels- you’re just destined to be bad.”
Tango tilts his head. “Yeah? If that’s the case, then uh, why did the universe send you here?”
Bravo makes a sound like he’s been punched. “What?”
“I didn’t make that portal. You didn’t make that portal. We all know that the universe makes portals to Hermitcraft so why-”
“Stop it! It was a mistake! A glitch! I- I was never meant to come to Hels, you-”
“Then how has every other Hermit joined without having the same problem? Huh? Why you? Why us?”
“Shut up!” Bravo cries, almost desperate. “I’m the one in the right, here!”
“Says who?” Tango asks.
“I just- I have to be in the right!” Bravo protests, throwing an arm out. “I- I’m not like you, I’m not a Hels, I’m supposed to be the good one. If I’m mad, if I wanna hurt someone, it has to be justified, ‘cause I’m not- I’m not cruel.”
Tango just looks at him.
Bravo seems to recognize the irony in his words. It hits him almost like a physical attack; he staggers, eyes widening, face twisting with rage. “Don’t you dare fucking judge me!” he shouts as he raises his sword accusingly at Tango, voice echoing off the cavern walls. “I’m just- I did what I had to do to survive, and- and it ruined me. This world ruined me, and it’s all your fault, you bastard!”
They’re hollow accusations, built from hurt and deflected blame. But it doesn’t occur to Tango to defend himself against them. He couldn’t if he wanted to; all he can do is watch Bravo in stunned silence.
Even without the ability to set himself ablaze, Bravo’s rage is a terrible thing to behold. Tears stream down his reddened face; a mixture of fury and despair, raw and ugly. “It’s not fair!” he wails, almost a breathless scream. “Why did you get to be saved? Why did I have to take your place? What- what did I do?”
He takes another step closer, drawing his sword back, and Tango is suddenly struck by the very real possibility that Bravo is about to kill him.
“You did this to me!” Bravo snarls, wild-eyed and heaving for breath. “You and e- everyone else in th- this fucking hellscape, you- you did this, you-!”
Bravo lifts his sword for the killing blow-
And then he pauses. He stares at Tango, and Tango stares back.
“... fuck. What am I doing?”
Bravo stumbles back from Tango, lowering his sword. He clutches his head with his free hand, a few stray tears streaking down his face as he struggles to control his breathing. His anger seems to have extinguished, finally letting the pain seep through- an expression that Tango knows as intimately as his own reflection.
Tango blinks.
It’s a complicated rush of emotions. Bravo represents the worst part of Tango’s life coming back to haunt him; his skeleton in the closet. Fueled by prejudice and misplaced blame, he fought tooth and nail to destroy the life Tango had built for himself, brought pain and hardship to a world of strangers who’d done nothing to deserve it. He made a deal with a devil to get what he wanted and didn’t care who got caught up in the crossfire. Most of all, despite having a viable way to escape Hels peacefully, he doggedly pursued revenge out of nothing but spite and a twisted sense of justice.
Logically, Tango should hate Bravo as much as Bravo hates him.
But for the first time, Tango tries to imagine what it must’ve been like to be trapped in Hels for ten years and not knowing why.
What Bravo went through is exactly what Tango’s always feared since he escaped; that one day his luck would run out, and he’d lose everything. His peaceful life in the overworld. His freedom. His friends, and the love he found with Jimmy- maybe Bravo had people he cared about before, too. Worst of all, Bravo had already experienced the wonders of the wider universe before having it abruptly taken from him.
Tango had been spawned into cruelty and suffering. He hadn’t known anything different, hadn’t known there was anything beyond Hels that he was missing out on. But Bravo did. Bravo knew what it was to travel between worlds, to explore untainted horizons, to live under the warmth of the sun. He knew cooperation and goodwill between players, the comfort and safety of solo worlds. And then suddenly, he’d been deprived of it all, with no way of knowing if he’d ever get it back.
So if Atlas told him that it wasn’t his fault, that he could blame it all on some mysterious, evil doppelgänger… Tango understands why he’d cling to the notion so fiercely.
It’s an easy thing to blame someone else. Accepting that Tango isn’t to blame for what he’s become means accepting that maybe his understanding of Hels players is flawed, and that he might not have been as good of a player as he thought to begin with. Accepting that Tango wasn’t to blame for stranding him in Hels in the first place would mean accepting that maybe… there wasn’t a reason at all. And that kind of acceptance is paramount to altering his entire worldview.
Tango’s been through that himself, once. It wasn’t a fun process. So right now, watching Bravo fall apart in front of him, he finds that all he can feel is sympathy.
So Tango summons enough strength to step forward and wrap Bravo in a hug.
Bravo recoils at first; the kind of instinctive flinch that Tango knows all too well. A noise catches in his throat- part alarm, part disgust. “What’re you-” He tries to push away, but Tango holds fast.
“I’m sorry,” Tango whispers. “You didn’t deserve it.”
Bravo freezes.
The air is still and silent around them, filled with nothing but the faint flickering of torches and Bravo’s shrill breathing. He’s as rigid as stone in Tango’s embrace- his muscles are so tense, it feels like they’re going to snap. After a few moments, he inhales sharply, and Tango is almost certain he’s about to receive a sword in the gut but he doesn’t let go, because he remembers what it’s like to live in this world and if he can’t even show his own doppelgänger kindness then he really hasn’t learned anything at all-
The sword clatters to the ground. And Bravo breaks.
He folds into the embrace and begins to sob. He sobs hard, shaking and gasping for breath in between, clinging to Tango like his life depends on it. Tears quickly dampen the collar of Tango’s shirt. It’s different from his earlier furious cries- this is absolute devastation, heart-wrenching and all-consuming. It’s a flood ten years in the making, finally spilling over all the careful walls that Bravo’s built around himself. And now that it’s here, there’s no stopping it.
Tango doesn’t speak. He simply eases them down to sit on the floor- he can’t support both his and Bravo’s weight right now. Bravo practically collapses, body limp, legs curled awkwardly beneath him but he doesn’t seem to notice or care. He sags against Tango and cries, and Tango lets him.
It’s slightly bizarre, holding his doppelgänger while he cries. Especially when he was attacking Tango not even two minutes ago. In many ways, it’s a disturbing echo of his own past breakdowns- he can hear himself so clearly in Bravo’s voice, the raw ache of it.
But he’s glad for it. New growth can only happen once the old is torn down. It’s a messy, unpleasant process. It won’t be quick or easy. Bravo has only just taken the first step- he’s still got a long, difficult journey ahead of him. But Tango knows how beautiful it’ll be, to come out through the other side.
And he thinks maybe he needed this, too.
Tango isn’t sure how much time they spend like that. Only when Bravo has finally grown silent, just the occasional sniffle or shaky breath, does Tango sit back enough to meet Bravo’s teary gaze.
“And neither did I,” he continues quietly. “And neither did anyone else who’s ever spawned here, that- that’s the point.”
Bravo sniffs, wiping his face on his sleeve. “But… the universe has to spawn you here for a reason,” he insists, his voice small and confused. Like a child.
Tango’s mildly surprised to find he feels no anger- just pity. “Maybe the universe is wrong.”
Distress flashes across Bravo’s face; clearly, he’s never considered that before. He pulls away from Tango but he doesn’t go far, tucking his knees to his chest. “So then... all this pain, all this struggle... was for nothing,” he says miserably. “Everything I went through... a- and everything I did... I- I was so sure there had to be a reason, that I was different from the players here, that I didn’t belong here. But I- I’m fucked up. I used to be a nice person, but…”
“Nice isn’t the same thing as good,” Tango says simply. “And I would know.”
Bravo swallows. “… how did you do it?” he asks hoarsely. “You’re a Hels, why… how come this world didn’t ruin you, too? How did you end up being the good one?”
It’s an exceedingly vulnerable question, without a hint of reproach. Tango hums, leaning back on his arms. “Y’know, I spent a long time in this world. I- I grew up where it’s kill or be killed, murder first ask questions later, everyone’ll sell you out for a piece of rotten flesh. That was just normal. That was expected. If you’d known me back then, I- I would’ve been no different from any other Hels. I set horrible traps for fun. I cost random players, people I didn’t even know, their resources and their lives in an already harsh world, I mean- it wasn’t pretty. But I was a kid.” He glances sidelong at Bravo. “I was just a teenager when Atlas took me in, did you- did he ever tell you that?”
Bravo’s surprised expression is all the answer Tango needs.
“Nah, I guess he wouldn’t,” Tango sighs ruefully. “But the first person I thought was different- the first person who I thought saw more in me than the capacity for chaos, who offered me a home, a sense of belonging, a purpose... it turned out to be a trick. All of it, a lie. Just to get me into a horrible farm for the rest of my life, suffering constant withering and being harvested for my resources, like- like I was nothin’ more than a mob.” He gives Bravo a half-hearted grin. “You’d think that’d seal it, right? Like, that would just totally destroy any remaining faith I had in playerkind. And uh, it came pretty close, actually. But then I got out.”
He tips his head back to stare at the ceiling. “The universe created a portal, and I escaped to a world where players were kind. And generous, and… gave you the benefit of the doubt. They didn’t assume the worst, they didn’t judge you based on what you looked like. It was… completely foreign. I took advantage of it at first, I mean, I- I was a total jerk. I’m just lucky they thought it was all in good fun, jokes and pranks and stuff- or, or uh, maybe they did know, and still chose to show me grace, I dunno. What I do know is that after enough time had passed… I changed. My wants, my goals, my- my entire outlook on life changed. Suddenly I wanted to be good, I- I tried so hard to be good. And that only happened ‘cause I got the chance.”
He meets Bravo’s gaze, raising his eyebrows. “And- and I was an adult at that point, I’d grown up in Hels. I mean, imagine what I might’ve been like if I’d spawned on a normal world, grown up in the normal way. Hell, imagine if any other Hels kid got that chance. Maybe there wouldn’t be so many differences between us. Like, maybe even someone like Atlas could’ve been better.” He shrugs. “And maybe he wouldn’t have. Maybe he always would’ve grown up to be an asshole. Either way, there’s no way of knowing if they never have the chance.”
Bravo looks pensive, his brows knitted together. “I guess I… never thought of that.”
Tango dares to reach out and put a hand on Bravo’s arm. “I’m sorry you got sent here. If I’d known about it when it happened... well, I- I probably still wouldn’t have said anything, if I’m honest,” he admits. “Like you said, I did what I had to do to survive. But I’m sorry for what you went through, and for what my role in that was. If I’d been brave enough to speak up, maybe we could’a helped you sooner, I dunno.”
Bravo glances away. “I… understand,” he says haltingly. “It, uh… it doesn’t excuse the way I’ve been actin’, so. You know.”
Tango makes a noncommittal noise. “For what it’s worth, I- I don’t think ‘being good’ is somethin’ that’s like… intrinsically handed to us, just by virtue of where we spawn. I think good is a choice that we make, every second of every day of our lives. And y’know, deciding not to choose good in one moment doesn’t mean we can never choose good again.” He huffs a soft laugh. “I mean, if you ask me, that’s way more important than the world we spawn in.”
Bravo looks at him for a moment. His expression is impossible to read. Then determination settles over him, his eyes hardening, before he abruptly gets to his feet. Without a word, he marches over to one of the chests on the floor and rummages through it. Before Tango can say anything, Bravo pulls out an item and tosses it over to him.
Tango catches it, mostly on reflex; it’s a potion of instant health.
“You take that,” Bravo says briskly, stooping over to pick his sword off the ground, “while I go help Jimmy out of there.”
Then he jumps into the pit, slashing through cobwebs on his way down.
Tango blinks. Well, then. Guess that’s decided. He downs the potion quickly, grimacing at the sweet aftertaste of glistering melon, and rises to his feet. It hasn’t fully restored him, but it’s taken the edge off his fresh injuries and given him enough strength to be a functional player again, and he’s quite satisfied with that for now.
Putting away the empty bottle, he wanders over to the edge of the pit, catching the tail end of Jimmy snapping at Bravo as he approaches.
“- where you’re swingin’ that thing!”
“I’m tryin’ to help! Just hold still-”
“Don’t you tell me to- ouch!”
“You’re makin’ it worse! Hang on…”
Tango’s only just leaned over to look when Jimmy flies out of the pit. His wings are ruffled and there are a few places where it’s obvious that some feathers were pulled out, a few stray bits of cobweb still clinging here and there. But aside from the scrapes and bruises he received during their fight with Bravo, he looks none the worse for wear. He’s been gracious enough to carry Bravo out with him, though he’s quick to dump Bravo back on the ground once they’re clear of the pit.
“Tango!” Jimmy swoops over and nearly knocks Tango over, wrapping him in a tight hug. “Oh my gosh, I- I was so worried, are you alright?”
Despite the ache in his bones, Tango hugs him back just as fiercely. “Yeah, yeah, I’m alright, hun,” he reassures Jimmy, voice muffled in the crook of his shoulder.
Right now, he wants nothing more than to curl up in Jimmy’s embrace and fall asleep. Between the fight and his unexpected heart-to-heart with Bravo, he’s physically and emotionally worn out. But even though the immediate threat has been nullified, he knows they aren’t done yet.
Tango pulls back just enough to meet Jimmy’s gaze. “I’m sorry for all this,” he murmurs, reaching a hand up to cup Jimmy’s face. “I thought… if I came here by myself, I’d be protecting you- protecting everyone- from suffering the consequences of my mistake.”
Jimmy covers Tango’s hand with his own. “Did you… did you come here with the intent of givin’ yourself up?” he asks quietly.
Tango winces. “Well, I didn’t- that wasn’t my main goal, no, but uh- I- I knew it was a possibility,” he confesses. “I mean, ideally I would’ve patched things up with Bravo and- and somehow gotten the key from Atlas on my own, but… I was prepared to fail, yeah. I’d accepted it.”
Jimmy looks sad, but not surprised. “Y’know,” he starts softly, “you- you always talk about, uh… not wantin’ to hurt us, not wantin’ us to suffer for your mistakes. But I don’t think you realize that for us, the thought of losin’ you is far worse than whatever else might happen. I mean, I- I’d go through that battle with Hels Tek a hundred times over if it meant not losin’ you. And I know the others feel the same way.”
“Oh.” Tango’s throat tightens. “I… hadn’t thought of that.”
“I know.” A bittersweet smile spreads across Jimmy’s face. “I know it’s hard for you to believe sometimes, alright, but you- we’re rather fond of you, mate. So, um… d’you think you could give the self-sacrificial nonsense a rest?”
Despite everything, Tango feels himself grin. “I can try, yeah,” he says, leaning up to give Jimmy a kiss.
(On the inside, Tango is still terrified at how this might turn out. Hels is a dangerous world, and tangling with Atlas and the rest of Hels Tek is no small order. A horrible painful death is the least of his concerns- if Jimmy or any of the other Double Lifers ended up in a farm, Tango would never forgive himself.
But if today taught him anything, it’s that the people he cares about are just as stubborn as he is. No matter what he says or does, they’re going to be determined to help him, because that’s just the kind of players they are. And he could continue to try and fight it, to try and go it alone, but he’s sure they’ll still somehow put themselves in harm’s way.
So rather than fight it, maybe he can accept that they’re able to make their own decisions and take their own risks. And that working with them, rather than against them, might give them all the best chance of having a favorable outcome. They’ll certainly have an easier time dealing with Atlas if they don’t have to worry about Tango pulling another dirty, reckless move like this.)
Behind them, Bravo coughs into his fist. “Uh, hey, are you two done…?”
Jimmy breaks away with a huff of annoyance. “What?” he demands, keeping an arm around Tango’s waist.
“Just thinkin’ out loud here,” Bravo says, holding his hands up, “but uh, you- there’s no way you two are gonna be able to take on Hels Tek alone. I mean, you’ve already lost the element of surprise, I- he’s probably noticed your arrival in chat by now. And Hels Tek is several days away on foot, how- what, are you just- are you just gonna walk there? You’d barely make it a hundred blocks before gettin’ killed, what with your abysmal PVP skills.”
Jimmy scowls at the slight against them, but Tango frowns. “You’re right,” he amends. “I uh, I honestly didn’t have much of a plan besides ‘winging it’ when I came through, I- I was on a bit of a time crunch.”
“So what do you propose we do?” Jimmy asks Bravo pointedly.
Bravo rolls his eyes. “I mean, I just wanna get the fuck out of here. But if you guys are tryin’ to get the key to that collar skadoodler from Atlas, you’re gonna need help.”
“From you?” Jimmy’s distrust is evident in his voice. “Why?”
Bravo crosses his arms, shoulders hunched defensively. “I dunno, I- maybe I feel bad about the part I played in all this and feel like I owe you guys one?”
Jimmy scoffs. “Doubtful.”
Bravo opens his mouth to retort, but Tango intervenes. “Hey, I know you probably couldn’t hear everything from the bottom of that pit,” he tells Jimmy, “but uh, I- I really think we’ve worked it out, now.” He glances over at Bravo, smiling. “I think we can trust him.”
Shock flares in Bravo’s eyes, his expression sobering. He gives a slight nod.
Jimmy purses his lips. “Fine, but I still don’t like it-”
Ca-clunk.
Pistons activate, making all three of them whirl around to face the wall. Tango’s mind is already racing through the different possibilities- maybe Bravo was actually just stalling until backup came, or maybe Atlas was able to track them down on his own, or maybe it’s even a completely random player who stumbled across the base- but that all comes screeching to a halt as soon as he sees the player who steps out into the room.
Because that’s Jimmy.
Or- well- not exactly. It’s obviously not Jimmy because he’s still standing next to Tango. But it’s immediately apparent that, despite the several major differences between them, this is Jimmy’s doppelgänger, his Hels counterpart.
It seems impossible. Or at least, highly improbable, that Jimmy’s doppelgänger would be here, of all places, and now, of all times, when Hels is a massive, infinite world full of nearly infinite players.
But there’s no one else he could be.
“Bravo!” the player calls in Jimmy’s voice. “Did you- oh.” He draws up short when he sees them, seeming just as thrown by this turn of events as they are.
The first thing that jumps out at Tango is how skinny the player is. He’s practically emaciated; despite his tall frame, his limbs are no thicker than Tango’s, his big, watery eyes sunken into a hollow face- a face that, aside from the lack of a crooked nose, is almost identical to Jimmy’s. The large wings that trail behind him are black in color and poorly kept. He’s a lot paler than Jimmy is, too, almost a sickly sort of complexion. His ratty hair is a dull black, and- based on the sharp angles of the ends- was cut short very recently.
Now Tango knows how Jimmy must’ve been feeling this whole time. It’s fucking weird.
Beside him, Jimmy’s breath catches. He takes a single, tentative step forward- though Tango is quick to throw an arm out in front of him. The player doesn’t look very threatening. He’s barefoot and dressed in rags, carrying no weapon or armor. But Tango’s still on guard. This is an unknown Hels player, after all.
The player stares at Jimmy, entranced. “Oh,” he breathes, a trembling hand coming up to tug on a strand of hair. A jumble of emotions flash across his face, too fast to read. “I see… you must be Jimmy.”
“And you’re Timmy,” Jimmy says softly, dawning realization settling over his features. “Aren’t you? Gosh…”
Tango recognizes the tone of their voices; they’re experiencing the same strange sensation he did, the first time he laid eyes on Bravo. That abrupt and absolute recognition of the self in the other. Despite meeting for the first time, there hadn’t been a doubt in Tango’s mind that Bravo was his doppelgänger. He’d known it as surely as his own name. It was something instinctual, almost primal- grounding and disorienting all at once.
Timmy. That’s the nickname that Grian and some of the other guys call Jimmy. A practical joke played on them by the universe, no doubt, to have spawned with the names they did.
Bravo finally unfreezes. “Timmy! I told you to wait for me to come get you!” he hisses, but Tango can see the guilt and shame on his face.
“Sorry…” Timmy murmurs distantly, still fixated on Jimmy. “I was just… gosh, I- everythin’ makes sense now…” He finally turns to look at Bravo, and the faint, knowing smile on his face is devastatingly sad. “I… get why I wasn’t good enough.”
Bravo flinches. “No, no I- I didn’t mean-”
“Ey,” Jimmy cuts in, voice gentle but firm as he moves past Tango to approach Timmy. “C’mere, mate, it’s alright. Ignore him a second, hey?” He fans out a wing to block Bravo from view, nonverbally conveying that he’d like a private moment with his doppelgänger.
“Yeah, come on.” Tango takes the cue to grab Bravo by the arm, leading him to the other side of the room. “You- you wanna explain him?” he asks lowly, putting his hands on his hips. “I mean, how- where did you even find him?”
Bravo exhales heavily. “At spawn. Actually, I- we met the first time I ended up at world spawn, all those years ago. Go figure. He- he’d been livin’ there for god knows how long, just… starving to death, over and over again, ‘cause he was too scared to leave.”
Damn.
“Huh.” Tango nods slowly. “So… what were you sayin’ about all Hels being evil monsters…?”
Bravo tenses. “Shut up. He’s different.” He glances over his shoulder at the pair of avians. “I… after I was killed on your world, and- and escaped from Hels Tek, I ended up at spawn. He was still there, and this time… he agreed to come with me, so he could leave Hels with me once I got my portal working.”
“Mhmm.” Tango’s voice is terse, even to his own ears. “You, uh... didn’t happen to keep him around just ‘cause he’s my soulmate’s doppelgänger, did you?”
Bravo winces. “... maybe at first,” he admits. “But then- I dunno, I- I didn’t- things changed, alright?”
Tango folds his arms. “That’s pretty fucked up, to use him as a- a replacement Jimmy.”
“I know, okay?” Bravo hisses, but it’s lacking its usual venom. “I- I’ve had a lotta realizations in the last few minutes, alright? Gimme a break.”
Tango snorts but says nothing else, looking over to check on Jimmy.
He’s speaking to Timmy in low tones, eyes shining with concern. His demeanor is reserved, gentle, nonthreatening- he’s matching Timmy’s curled-in posture, just with less of the anxiety, more reassuring. And it seems to be working; even from this distance, it’s apparent Timmy’s slowly growing more comfortable, less afraid.
Sudden warmth swells in Tango’s chest. It’s overwhelming, meeting your doppelgänger, but Jimmy’s put all those complicated feelings aside to help a player who seems to sorely need it. His experience with Hels players thus far has been nothing but flat-out terrible, and yet it didn’t even occur to him to be wary of Timmy. Some might view that as foolish naivety or ignorance, maybe even stupidity. But to Tango, it’s a testament to Jimmy’s incredible kindness.
He couldn’t be more proud of his soulmate.
Eventually, Jimmy waves them over. “Hey, so uh, you got somethin’ to say to Timmy?” he asks Bravo, one hand resting protectively on Timmy’s bony shoulder.
Taken back, Bravo looks at Tango, who simply raises an eyebrow.
Bravo swallows. “Look,” he starts hesitantly, “I- I uh, I’m sorry for the way I’ve been treating you, alright? It… wasn’t fair for me to compare you to Jimmy.”
Timmy’s avoiding his gaze, fidgeting with his hands, but there’s a hopeful light in his eyes. “Thanks,” he says softly.
Satisfied for the moment, Jimmy turns to Tango. “We can’t leave him here,” he says, completely resolute. “I- I think we should head back through the portal for now, regroup with the others and come up with a- with an actual plan? So long as we don’t break the portal, we’ll still be able to come back through. Even if he,” he nods at Bravo, “is with us.”
Tango rubs the back of his neck, sheepish. “Right, right, yeah. I’m- the others are bound to notice we’re gone soon, so we should probably-”
“Oh!” Timmy gasps suddenly, smacking his forehead. “The others, right! Right, sorry, I uh- the reason I came to find you, Bravo, is that a- a whole buncha players just joined the world.” He cringes, apologetic. “I- I think it’s those guys you were tellin’ me about.”
“What?!” Bravo demands, sounding alarmed.
Tango whips out his communicator, eyes widening at the chat.
The entire Double Life server has joined Hels. Which means they’re probably up by the portal right now, wandering around and looking for him in a dangerous world they’re entirely unfamiliar with, full of hostile mobs, hidden traps, and certain ruthless scientists who’d love to add a few hybrids to their collection.
Shit.
~*~
Somewhere in Hels, a player types furiously on a communicator.
“No,” Atlas calls over his shoulder distractedly, “they won’t be at world spawn. Get me the last coordinates searched by Alisker’s mercenaries, we’ll start from there.”
“Yes, sir,” the scientist says quickly before rushing off.
It’s only been a few minutes since Atlas was alerted to Tango’s arrival in chat- him and one other player. The avian, he thinks. Obviously, this development necessitated that they drop everything and immediately pivot towards an effort to recapture Tango. Amidst giving orders to prepare the flying machines and gather weapons and armor, he’s been frantically trying to reach Alisker via whispers- without looking like he’s too desperate, of course, but he knows that having Alisker’s support in this endeavor will be critical to its success.
All the while, part of his mind is dedicated to puzzling out Tango’s motive.
He had a feeling they’d return to Hels eventually, to try and get the key for Tango’s collar from him. No doubt Tango’s finding its properties rather disruptive to normal life. The only question was whether or not Alisker’s mercenaries would find Bravo before then, allowing them to open a new portal and strike first. The latter option would’ve certainly been ideal, but ultimately, it doesn’t matter. He’s confident they’ll succeed this way, too.
(Failure isn’t an option. Not again.)
What’s most confusing, however, is that Tango seems to have come without any real backup. The other players from his world were quite formidable as a group; Tango must know that leaving them behind will considerably lower his chances of success. So perhaps he doesn’t intend to confront Atlas at all, and is simply content to live with the collar. After all, he’s still wearing the cuffs, all these years later.
The only way to open a portal to Hels- that they know of, at least- is by using a player’s data to lock onto their counterpart’s coordinates. So Tango must’ve opened a portal to Bravo. Perhaps that’s all his goal is- an attempt to make amends with his doppelgänger and provide an escape from Hels. If that’s the case, then they’re working with a limited time frame.
Because if Bravo leaves Hels with Tango, then Atlas is truly out of viable options. All he’ll be able to do is open random portals to any of Hels Tek’s counterparts in the overworld, giving them access to random worlds that Tango is highly unlikely to inhabit. That won’t satisfy Alisker, and Atlas is already on thin ice as it is. No, they need to move now if they have any chance of-
Chat is suddenly jumping with join messages, and some very familiar usernames.
Ah, there’s the rest of them.
Atlas’s runaway train of thought screeches to a halt. If the other members of that world are here now, then it seems like they’ll be going for the key, after all. Which means he can breathe again. They’ve got a difficult conflict ahead of them, sure, but he rather likes their chances here in Hels. And he’s got a much better idea of what they’re up against this time- they won’t be defeated again so easily.
Oh, and Alisker’s finally returned his message. Yes, things are shaping up quite nicely, indeed.
Atlas quickly makes the arrangements, rising from his chair and heading out of his office. The halls of Hels Tek are bustling with activity as everyone scrambles to get ready. Anticipation bubbles in Atlas’s chest. This is his last chance to be victorious; he won’t rest until Tango is locked back in that farm. And, if he plays this right, he’ll have several new additions to his hybrid-farming initiative as well. Already his mind is racing with ideas..
The minutes pass in a blur. Atlas is standing before the flying machines and barking orders, his voice echoing off the garage’s high ceiling, when his communicator beeps again. He glances down, expecting to see another message from Alisker, and draws up short.
Grian tried to swim in lava.
PearlescentMoon tried to swim in lava.
InTheLittleWood tried to swim in lava.
impulseSV tried to swim in lava.
Smajor1995 tried to swim in lava.
Etho tried to swim in lava.
ZombieCleo tried to swim in lava.
bigbst4tz2 tried to swim in lava.
Smallishbeans tried to swim in lava.
GoodTimeWithScar tried to swim in lava.
BdoubleO100 tried to swim in lava.
Renthedog tried to swim in lava.
Atlas blinks in surprise. The messages are almost simultaneous; a massive die-off like this can’t be anything other than a trap. How curious... he knows Bravo is rather fond of setting traps, as Alisker’s mercenaries have discovered firsthand. And if the portal they came through was spawned near Bravo’s location… perhaps this was accidental friendly fire?
Another message flashes.
SolidarityGaming was slain by Bravo.
Oh. Nevermind.
Atlas watches chat with bated breath. It hasn’t escaped his notice that, as of right now, Tango is still alive. And if his hunch is correct…
<Bravo whispered to you> hey. I’ve got an offer for you.
Atlas grins.
~*~
#hermitcraft#life series smp#double life smp#hermitshipping#trafficshipping#hels to pay AU#HTP fic#my writing
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i'll love you 'til the day that i die! MATT S.
summary: you and matt have been frenemies since the 8th grade. when you both go to homecoming, you get picked for homecoming queen, and chris is your king. matt can't help but storm outside of the school angrily.
pairing: matt sturniolo × fem!reader
warnings/topics: arguments, vulgar language, fluff, sorta angst, confessions, highschool au, etc.
a/n: LOVE THIS SONG SMSMSMS also this probably makes no sense towards the end cause i was purely running on 2 bottles of water😖
"matt," you exclaimed, running into his room without any warning.
he jumped a little, eyes snapping toward the direction of his bedroom door.
you took a seat at his desk, pushing yourself toward his bed with your feet before spinning around to face him.
"why do you have so much energy this early in the morning?" he groaned, rubbing his eyes as he had just woken up a few minutes ago.
"cause, i just got big news? and, sorry for being so happy to see you?" you joked, rolling your eyes and leaning back in the chair.
matt hummed in curiosity, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to make it look better, "and what's the news?"
you almost couldn't stay still, changing the way you were sitting every moment or so.
"i got nominated for homecoming queen!" you all but yelled, making matt flinch slightly at the loud noise.
his smile was small, but very smug as if he was gonna say something to bring you down.
he could never shut his mouth whenever you brought up something good that happened to you, he always had to one-up you.
"cool, cool, but i've gotten nominated for homecoming king like years in a row. it's nothing big to be nominated once," he shrugged, keeping direct eye contact with you and watching as your face contorted into a subtle look of sadness.
your frown was small, and if matt hadn't been the one to trigger it, then he probably wouldn't have noticed.
he always did this, and you should've been used to it by now. but, god, did matt know how to push your buttons.
"yeah, well, i didn't see your name on there this time. you're not someone special, y'know?" you laughed, trying to hide your frustration.
matt's grin only widened at your words, "huh. well, it'll be there by tonight. those girls can't resist my charm, not even you, y/n."
"shut up. nobody wants a homecoming king that's an asshole to every girl he meets." you groaned, crossing your arms over each other.
"maybe, but you're the only girl i dislike at the school." matt bit back, leaning against his headboard as he stared you down.
you let out a quiet huff, looking around his room and letting your eyes land on the corkboard he had on the wall opposite his closet.
there were letters, pictures, and polaroids of all of his friends. and in one corner, there was a polaroid of you and him at the beach.
there was writing below it, 'i want u to stay 'till i'm in the grave<3' it was in dark blue sharpie.
your lips upturned into a small smile. he didn't hate you. he never really could, even if he tried.
"doesn't seem like you dislike me," you broke the silence, pointing over at the board.
matt's smile dropped, and his face flushed a soft pink color as he sat up straight. "just get out, would you!"
you giggled to yourself as you got off his chair, not forgetting to give him the middle finger before closing his door and walking back down the hall.
nick looked up from the sink as he heard your footsteps walking past the kitchen, turning around to look at you.
"bye, y/n," he smiled softly, waving over at you and accidently splashing water on the kitchen counter.
"see you later, nick," you smiled, waving back before resuming your walk down the stairs and out of the house.
"birds of a feather," chris said, breaking the silence between the four of you.
nick raised an eyebrow, looking to the side to see if chris was talking to him.
the younger boy was pointing over at you and matt, at the opposite end of the booth you all were sitting at.
"what?" matt laughed over the loud chatter of the cafeteria, crossing his arms before looking over at you.
you were confused just as he was, staring over at chris with an unsure look on your face, "right... and what are you yapping on about this time?"
chris looked dumbfounded, staring at the three of you in disbelief as he scoffed, "you guys seriously don't know that saying? i thought you were older than me."
"by, like, 2 seconds?" nick said, leaning on the table as he picked at the cafeteria food with a plastic fork.
chris punched his brother softly, rolling his eyes before explaining, "birds of a feather flock together, it basically means you guys are alike in one way or another."
matt laughed, looking over at you before giving his attention back to chris, "we are nothing alike, trust me. she's horrible at communicating, and i'm amazing at it. i'm popular. she's not."
"yeah, he's stupid, and i'm smart. remind me how we're alike, again?" matt looked away at your remark, silently mocking you.
"look at your outfits right now, if i didn't know any better i would think you guys are matching." chris pointed out, nodding his head in your direction.
nick nodded, "he's right, you guys look like a couple."
both yours and matts face flushed bright pink, and you looked seperate ways, embarrassment washing over the two of you.
"yeah, more like a couple of friends." you forced out, looking back up at nick and chris.
nick raised his eyebrows, looking away.
"and not to mention the many times you both have said the same phrase. like, tell me you hang out too much without telling me you hang out too much?" chris joked, laughing at himself.
nick chuckled quietly, nodding his head in agreement with his brothers.
"that's a coincidence." you mumbled, sitting up straight.
"it's happened more than i can count, i don't think it's a coincidence of any sort." nick said, looking over at matt, who just dragged his hands down his face.
"well, whatever. not like it's gonna last forever," matt said, and before anyone could reply, he stood up and left to his next class.
the bell rang a few seconds after, and you, nick, and chris gave each other confused looks.
"sorry, y/n. he's probably just had a rough day, i promise you he doesn't mean it." nick reassured you, reaching over the table to hold your hand.
he left a few moments later, and chris stayed with you.
"don't take it to heart, 'kay?" chris muttered softly, smiling at you.
you nodded, and chris began to add on, "i've seen him cry over you. he tells me he doesn't know why. all he says is that he doesn't think he could love you more than he already does."
nodding, smiling softly before watching chris get up and leave. now it was just you and your thoughts at the table alone.
huh. who would've thought matthew sturniolo, one of the most popular guys at school, would be crying over you, quiet, kept to herself, y/n l/n?
you couldn't tease him about it, you did the same thing for him. you always cried over matt, not even knowing why because he had never really hurt you.
you always just sobbed to nick about how you would love him 'til the day that he dies. and after those words registered in your head, you only cried more at the thought of matt dying.
but those nights, you were usually drunk or super high. nick always knew how to calm you down, though, he was always there for you whenever you needed.
matt had also occasionally been there for you in your lowest times, never hesitating to break the speed limit getting to your house.
he always confronted the boys that had stood you up, never let anyone talk bad about you or even give you dirty looks. even if he didn't consider you a friend, you thought of him as one.
"i just don't understand," matt whispered shakily as he looked up at the night sky, stars scattered all around and lighting the place around in just the slightest.
you sat next to him, fingers playing with the blanket the both of you were on, "what don't you understand?"
he shrugged, "i don't understand how anyone could love me."
your neck snapped in his direction, eyes widening a little as a million thoughts came to your mind.
you wanted him to see how he looked in your eyes. he was the funniest, most handsome, kind boy you have ever met (even if he did occasionally tick you off).
you wanted him to know how many subtle compliments you gave him that he never noticed, but still took.
but then again, you wanted to just tell him how he was so full of shit. he knew that anyone and everyone was capable of loving him.
he knew that he could get anyone wrapped around his finger in less than a week. hell, he sure got you wrapped around his finger in just a matter of 2 days.
"i just don't get what people see in me. sometimes i just want to quit everything i do at the thought of it." matt added, finally turning his head to look at you.
your gaze softened as he looked you in the eyes, a subtle look of concern plastered on your face as you reached out to pat his shoulder.
"don't be stupid, matthew. i think that if anyone even glanced in your direction, they would instantly fall in love. you're all any girl would want."
matt smiled, and you reached over to move his hair to see his face better. he was truly beautiful. you couldn't ever get tired of the sight of him.
"you really think that?" matt asked, and there was just the tiniest hint of smugness in his voice.
you nodded, tilting your head to see matt better in the pale moonlight.
"i do," you whispered, and before matt could speak, you cut him off, "and don't ruin this moment with one of your stupid remarks, matthew."
matt's lips parted, but he chose to stay silent. he was grateful for moments like this with you, when it was just you two alone and nobody else.
he loved being alone with you, especially late at night when you guys would have these deep talks. no words spoken here would ever leave, neither of you would bring those topics up.
it was a nice feeling, one that made him feel safe and secure in your presence.
as the months passed by and new memories with you were made, matt felt like you were slowly creeping into his heart, invading all of his senses.
all he could think about was you now, and he couldn't ever get you out of his head. not even when he was in boston, more than 2,000 miles away from you.
it came so fast, and you almost couldn't believe that you were standing outside of your high-school with your best friends, all dressed formally.
you were wearing a satin dark blue dress that went down to your knees, while matt and chris were wearing suits and ties.
matt's suit was navy blue, his dress pants being white to match with chris, who was wearing a white suit and navy blue dress pants.
nick wore an all blue suit, his tie being the only white thing on his outfit besides from his collared shirt he wore underneath the suit.
"holy shit, you're stunning, y/n!" nick exclaimed, stretching his arms out before you hugged him tightly.
he smiled into your hair, patting your back before pulling away from your embrace.
"talk about stunning, look at yourself, nicolas! you look amazing, blue looks beautiful on you." you complimented, smiling up at him before walking to stand beside him.
he interlocked your arms, and you finally got the chance to look over matt and chris' suits.
"we look better than you guys ever could," matt said, swinging his arm over chris' shoulder and pulling him closer.
chris smiled, nodding in agreement as he wrapped his arm around matt's waist.
"i don't know, y/n's dress might beat us." the younger boy shrugged, to which matt rolled his eyes at.
"you tell yourselves whatever you want, we're gonna go inside to get the night started," nick stated, pushing past chris and matt and purposely shoving matt playfully.
the two brunette boys weren't slow to follow you and nick, chris rushing in front of you to hold the door open.
when the four of you got intonthe gym, it immediately felt like you guys were gonna have the best night ever.
the lighting was a darker blue, illuminating all the bodies beneath it and capturing every small movement the kids made.
"wow," you whispered, and nick echoed you.
"hello, and welcome, los angeles lions to our 34th annual homecoming dance!" madi exclaimed into the microphone, her eyes scanning the paper she was holding.
the school cheered in excitement, and chris screamed out an encouragement for madi.
she smiled at all the familiar faces before leaning into the microphone to read from the paper again, "these past few weeks have been a little chaotic with all of the new nominees for both homecoming queen, and homecoming king, and tonight won't be any less chaotic."
"now, i'm honored to welcome up on stage the nominees for homecoming queen," madi spoke before flipping the paper over to the other side.
she read over the names, and a big smile came to her face when her eyes landed on the first one.
"please welcome up to the stage y/n l/n," she said, her smile frowing impossibly wider.
chris and nick shoved you around playfully before you finally came to your senses and ran up to the stage. it was an unreal experience, being one of the nominees, you felt like you couldn't compare to any of the other girls.
"alahna estrella," madi said, reading a few more names over the loud cheering of the students before she moved onto the boys.
the gym went silent once madi announced that she would be calling up the boys for homecoming king, now.
"now, i'm very happy to call up to the stage one of the very popular sturniolo triplets..."
matt got ready to walk up to the stage, but when the name fell from madi's mouth, he froze in shock.
"christopher sturniolo!" she said happily, clapping along with the other students.
your eyes widened at the sound of chris' name being called, and you clapped for him.
nick watched as chris made his way up the stairs onto the stage, yelling out his name and clapping for his brother.
matt clapped slowly, the realization that he wouldn't get to be the homecoming king washing over him. whatever, it didn't matter anyway because he already had 3 crowns from past years.
more names were called, and even nate was invited up to the stage as a nominee for homecoming king.
when the crowd settled down, madi had began to speak again, "now, the announcement that we've all been waiting for... this year's homecoming king is.."
madi's eye widened in surprise before she smiled big and read off his name, "christopher sturniolo!"
matt sighed, clapping for his brother. he was happy sure, but then again he was jealous. things always went his way, and he just wasn't ready for this happen.
was he being selfish?
after chris was crowned homecoming king, he stood beside madi up on the stage, smiling big at all the students of his high-school.
"and, for your homecoming queen. this year's homecoming queen is y/n l/n!" madi said, clapping proudly at you as she watched you get crowned.
you couldn't believe it. it felt surreal, like you were in a dream you couldn't wake up from. as you walked over to chris, he pulled you into a huge hug, muttering a quiet, "congratulations." into your ear.
madi took yours and chris' hand as she walked back up to the mic, bringing all of your hands into the air as she yelled out into the microphone.
"please give big love to our new homecoming king and queen, y/n and chris!"
the students cheered, some jumping up and down out of excitement as they screamed their hearts out.
matt huffed angrily, jumping out of his seat before pushing his way past multiple people to get to the exit.
he didn't go unnoticed by you, your eyes following him as he stormed out of the gymnasium.
you were surprised the door hadn't made a sound, it looked like he slammed into the door without even flinching.
"shit," you whispered, worry flashing over your features.
as soon as you got off stage, you ran out of the gym, ignoring all of the people who tried to congratulate you on your way down.
you ran outside of the school, turning every way to try and spot matt. when you did, his eyes locked with yours.
he was sat on the sidewalk, a streetlight illuminating his face as the spotlights had done inside.
you ran over to him, taking a seat next to him and scooting close to him.
it was silent for a few minutes. the two of you just absorbed in all of your thoughts about what just happened.
"congratulations on homecoming queen, i'm happy for you." matt said, looking over into your eyes.
you smiled, "thanks."
"sorry you weren't nominated, i thought you would have been considering you have been every other year." you apologized, and matt shook his head softly.
it wasn't just that, it was the fact that his brother was your homecoming king. it was the knowledge that matt would never get to be your king.
it was the fact that he would never get to be yours.
"i'm sorry, i just can't do this anymore, y/n." matt stood up from his spot, and you looked up at him.
you raised an eyebrow, worry still lingering in your head from matt's earlier outburst, "what? you can't do what?"
you stood up next, now face to face with the boy you both hated and loved the most.
"i just don't understand what we are, what i mean to you and what you even think of me. you keep giving me these fucking mixed signals and i don't know how to interpret them!" matt held his head in his hands, rubbing his temples in an effort to calm himself down.
you swore you felt your heart shatter at his words. maybe this wasn't gonna be the best night you've ever had.
"what- mixed signals? i.. matt, what are you talking about?" you thought you knew what he was getting at, but as the words came out of your mouth, the thoughts fled from your mind.
matt muttered inaudible words before he finally spoke clearly, "you keep pushing me away and then pulling me back again, and i don't know what to do, y/n."
"do you want me, or am i just some guy you're toying with to get popularity? one minute you're nice and you have my back, and the next you're so fucking cold it's like i'm not even there, like you don't even care about me."
your eyebrows furrowed, he was explaining exactly how he made you feel.
"don't be a hypocrite, matt. i don't even act that way, you're explaining exactly what you make me think. i have all these thoughts and ideas i want to share with you, but when i do, you come over and push them down. why would i even want popularity? i don't give a shit about it, matt!"
"why do you do this to me, seriously?" your voice cracked, and only then did matt realize you were crying.
he groaned, taking small paces back and forth as he breathed heavily.
when he stopped, he was right in front of you, gaze soft as he stared into your e/c eyes.
"because i love you," he finally spilled it, and he didn't regret it. not at all.
the look on your face was not at all what he was expecting. he thought you might he disgusted or even angry.
"don't act so surprised, y/n." he said quietly, cupping your face with his hands.
they were cold, but you still leaned into his touch as he wiped away your tears.
he pulled you closer to him, and you ended up in his arms as you began to calm down. "god, i hate you, matt."
"yeah? well i'll love you 'till the day that i die." he muttered softly.
you laughed quietly, punching him playfully before pulling away.
he stayed silent, a soft smile on his face. as he continued to stare at you, he started to realize more and more things.
one thing he realized was that he never wanted to say goodbye.
maybe chris was right. maybe you two were birds of a feather.
. . . . . . . . .
tags: @cindylcuwho
#Spotify#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matt x reader#matthew sturniolo x you#matthew sturniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo x reader#sturniolo#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo x reader#the sturniolo triplets
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Nat…
Masterlist
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Pairings: Natasha romanoff x reader!highschoolau
Prompt: Natasha and y/n like each other but are two dumb idiots that won’t ever confess their love. Or will they? (You know they will) both are about 17-18
Warnings: swearing, Natasha has bad parents
Pronouns: she/her mostly
A/N: Omg I need some fluff. lol all of my stuff is basically fluff. Also I’m graduating todayyy!!!!! I’m so excited!!! I’m gonna cry 😭
Nobody’s Pov
Natasha and y/n are having yet another sleepover. Ever since Natasha turned 16 she was basically kicked out.
And so naturally her best friend y/n welcomed her immediately into her home.
And of course y/n’s parents were more than happy to take her in.
Natasha goes home sometimes, but mostly stays in the y/l/n’s guest room which at this point is her own room.
And yet, the girls always find themselves asleep together in one of either beds.
Natasha lies awake behind y/n in an almost spooning position, and she just admires y/n from afar. She can’t even see y/n’s face but she doesn’t care. She softly trails her nimble fingers up and down her arms and shoulders.
Her touch is so light. Yet not enough to wake up y/n. Or so she thought.
Y/n’s pov
I softly awake to Nat’s hands rubbing up and down my arm.
I don’t want her to pull away like she always does, so I stay as still and as calm as possible.
I won’t move a muscle so that she stays close to me.
Okay. Sure. Maybe I do have a little crush on her.
Maybe it’s not so little.
We’ve known each other since we started school. And although her parents are assholes, I’ve always been by her side. Through thick and thin.
So of course I was bound to fall in love with her.
It’s hard though. She hates physical touch but I’m her exception. She loves simple things like holding pinkies. Or a slight touch of shoulders or knees. But when we’re alone she’s all over me.
And yeah it’s nice but it’s hard when she doesn’t like me the same way. It’s hard when she’s so flirty too.
But I don’t care. All I can about right now is the fact that she is touching me.
I keep pretending to sleep but I know I move a lot in my sleep so I decide to turn around and snuggle into her. She won’t do anything since I’m “asleep.”
She pauses her movements scared she’s woken me up but then when she thinks I’m still asleep she envelopes me in a hug.
I softly breathe into her neck and smell her.
She smells nice.
She smells my hair. And rubs my back. And I wish she’d do this in a romantic way. But that’s not her thing.
But then. Out of the blue she starts whispering to me. Obviously she thinks I’m still asleep. And I guess I’m doing a good job. But I’ve always been god at fake sleeping. And it’s not like she’s a super spy or anything.
She starts whispering into my head from where she is. Like she’s wanting to tell me this.
“Y/n, I don’t know how or why, but I’ve fallen for you.”
If I wasn’t fake sleeping I would be shitting my pants right now. But I want to hear what she has to say so I keep up my facade.
“I love your hair and how it looks in the wind. I love how your nose crinkles a bit when you smile. I love you have little specks of gold in your eyes when you look at the sun.”
She sighs and continues
“I wish I was brave enough to tell you all of this. I wish I could kiss you and tell you how much I love you.”
She is getting a bit choked up and I hear her sniffle a bit but she keeps going
“I wish you loved me. But you don’t. So I can’t ever tell you these things. Because I don’t want to lose you. If I can’t have you as a lover, then I’ll take you as my friend. And that’s okay.”
She sniffs a bit more and continues, god what I’d do to kiss her right now
“I just don’t know what I’m going to do when you fall in love with someone else. I’m not ready to hear you talk about your crush. I’m not ready for you to break my heart. I’m not ready to watch you at the altar and hear you say I do to a stranger as I stay silent when they ask if anyone objects.”
Another sigh. She starts scratching my head softly.
“But I won’t say anything. I will never tell you how the first time you gave me butterflies, I thought I was actually sick. I thought I was having a heart attack at 16. And I never said anything. I can’t. I won’t. Your happiness matters too much to me. So I’ll stay your best friend. And I’ll let you go.”
She holds me tighter and says
“Because sometimes when you love something, you have to set it free”
My heart clenches at her words.
She really does love me. Oh my god she loves me back. I have to tell her!
I almost jump up but then I realize she’d know I was fake sleeping if I jumped up. So I pretend to shuffle a bit.
She stops her speech knowing I’ll be “waking up” soon and just continues to scratch my head softly.
I “wake up” and peek my eyes open at her.
She smiles and says
“Hi”
I send her a dopey smile full of love back at her and say
“Hey”
Then we pull apart awkwardly and I don’t know how to tell her that I love her too.
So I end up letting us get ready and then we go downstairs for breakfast.
My mom has known about my crush on nat for a while but she doesn’t mind. She thinks it’s cute.
And my dad has an idea about it but he doesn’t really dabble with my relationships yet. They’re both supportive though thankfully.
We eat breakfast and have some small talk.
Natasha knows I don’t like to talk a bunch in the mornings. But when we’re done with breakfast and put our dishes in the sink to clean later we head back up to my room.
“Wanna play Roblox?”
Natasha asks me with a smile knowing I love Roblox on Saturdays.
I nod my head and we jump on the bed and I decide I should tell her.
We sit on my bed and I set my phone down as I think of how to tell her. She suddenly says
“You alright?”
I nod my head and say
“Can I tell you something?”
She sets down her phone and nods her head. Then we face each other sitting with our legs criss crossed and she’s all ears.
“I have this crush on this girl.”
A flash of dread goes over her face. Clearly she is not ready to hear this yet. But she doesn’t know it’s her. Either way she covers it up and pretends to be excited.
“Omg! Really? Who is she! Do I know her? What’s her name? What does she look like?”
I smile cheekily and say
“Well. I won’t tell you her name yet”
She groans at my teasing and I continue regardless
“But. I’ll tell you about her and then I’ll tell you who she is.”
She nods her head and is staring at me.
“Well, her hair is so pretty. It’s curly and red. And her eyes are like forests.”
I kind of look off into space and keep talking as if I’m imagining my dream girl
“Her smile is so pretty and we’re pretty good friends. Her laugh is so contagious and she just lights up the room wherever she goes. She has had a rough life, but she’s never lost her heart. And she’s so kind to me. But I think the thing that gets me is how she loves everyone and everything. She talks to passionately about her feelings and her hopes and dreams to me. And it’s really only a few people she lets in and I am so lucky to be her friend. And I think she likes me back”
Natasha’s shoulders slump a bit more every few seconds and she’s droopy now. I look back at her and say
“Any guesses?”
I send her a sly smile and she looks at me and says
“Wanda?”
I start laughing my ass of and I say
“Oh man you’re so funny. Heck no! She might fit my type but definitely not her.”
Then Natasha kind of shrugs her shoulders and is gloomy now. She doesn’t care that she’s showing her dissapointed face at my crush.
I lift her chin up and say
“Nat…”
I give her a look telling her everything she needs to know. But she doesn’t believe me so she says
“Who is it then?”
I smile and giggle at her obliviousness and I say
“I’m not gonna tell you until you give me some advice. What should I do about it?”
She sighs and says
“I guess you should tell her.”
I smile and say
“Nat…”
She looks at me and says
“What?”
I smile and say
“I just did”
Her face turns pale and she says
“Wha- what do you mean?”
I giggle and say
“Natty, I just told her.”
She blinks a bit and silently points at herself as if she doesn’t believe me.
I laugh and nod and then I say
“I really really like you nat. And I wanna kiss you”
Usually I am not this bold so she is a bit dumbfounded and she nods her head so I lean in until I’m about half an inch away from her and she takes the initiative to go the rest of the way.
The kiss is soft and tender. Wayyy better than i imagined. And her lips are divine. They make me think of when the girl from the Lorax was describing truffula trees. (I don’t know. Don’t ask)
Then I pull away in need of air even though I don’t want to and we just stare at each other.
I look back at her lips and now I have become very shy. So she takes the lead and kisses me hard on the lips this time.
She ends up pushing me back on the bed and I wrap my left hand around her side and my right one threads into her hair.
We kiss and kiss and then after a bit, she trails her tongue along my bottom lip asking for permission and I grant it.
When she puts her tongue in my mouth I almost pass out. God she’s going to be the death of me.
This kiss is amazing. After a bit more kissing I accidentally let out a moan and it brings us back to reality so she pulls away.
I keep my eyes closed for a few seconds and a dopey smile is on my face.
She giggles at my flustered state and I finally open my eyes and awkwardly say
“Hi”
She laughs and says
“Hi”
We sit in silence for a bit until she gets off of me and I sit up. I look at her and say
“I’m sorry”
Her eyebrows furrow and she says
“Why?”
I look at my hands in my lap and I say
“I heard you this morning. When you said all those things to me. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier but I didn’t know how to tell you”
She scoffs and shoves my shoulder slightly saying
“You little fuck!”
I laugh and then say
“Forgive me?”
She thinks about it and says
“I’ll forgive you if you say yes to this…”
I nod my head and dramatically say
“I’d do anything for my queen to forgive me!”
She laughs and says
“Be my girlfriend?”
My breath catches in my throat and all I can muster up is a nod.
She smiles and gives me a soft peck and my face turns red. I am all awkward now so I say
“What now?”
not knowing what to do and Natasha says
“Well. We could play Roblox?”
I nod my head and gasp and say
“Wanna be Roblox girlfriends?!”
She nods her head at my childishness and I pump my fist knowing Roblox girlfriends is like the ultimate title. Then my mom knocks on my door and says
“Y/n?”
“Come in!”
I smile at my mom and she narrows her eyes at me and says
“You’re being suspicious…”
She takes a look around my room but drops it and says
“Can you please text me those pictures from last night?”
I nod my head and say
“Do you want the ones of me in my cap and gown?”
she nods her head and says
“Yeah and make sure you send me the one of you throwing your cap in the air”
I nod my head and she leaves. Then I turn to Natasha and she says
“I can’t believe we graduated yesterday and now we’re dating!!!”
I nod my head and say
“Roblox baby”
“Yes of course. I forgot”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: sorry about the last part. I didn’t know how to finish it and graduation has been on my mind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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@ihartnat @ilovesnat
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PHONING... 𓂃 ࣪˖ While You Were Sleeping. ⭒ drabble
Against your better judgement you find yourself always returning to him every single time, unspoken feelings lingering in the dark.
There were many times that you had woken up, bathed in the sunlight peeking through the window in a sick game of hide and seek. The settling realization of where you were: in a bed unwelcome, you begin to pick up your clothes as well as the pieces of your heart.
After the fourth or fifth time, you'll get into a routine. Firstly, returning the shirt you'd stolen incidentally in the entanglement you'd found yourself in the previous night. Secondly reminding yourself how you had gotten there.
Dreadful conversations over some cheap alcohol resurfacing in the morning light, a harsh shot of pain in your temple as you remembered the way you'd previously stumbled over your words. How easily he made you flustered when you'd swear to anyone who listened how much you hated him.
The familiar chorus of texts coming from your friends practically pleading for a response.
"Don't tell me you're with him again."
That familiar feeling of embarrassment creeps up again as you study his face in the dim light, the shadow of a curtain just barely covering it up. How peaceful he looked in the moment and for a second you allowed yourself to believe that he was yours, in the same way that you were his.
You slipped up, that was all it was you'd tell yourself as you recollected yourself in the mirror. As quiet as possible to not wake him up because for some reason, you didn't want to disturb his peace. As if somehow affording him that kindness would make up for your own sleepless nights at his hand.
If anyone were to ask where you'd been, you'd do your best to think of a lie. Something believable and not too quick-witted. It had to be plausible but not too ready on your tongue as if you had been thinking of an alibi, itching to convince yourself.
They'd ramble on and on about how much better you deserve as if you weren't lying in a bed of your own making.
A torturous dance between something and nothing.
The urge to run away from something new. A dangerous deadweight looming over your head and shoulders. Just one more kiss and you'd be done. One more night where you feel like his.
Sometimes the moon looked brighter than the sun to you. The hushed words he spoke to you in the moonlight were much more preferred to the silence of the early mornings when you knew he'd inevitably be swept away from you once more.
This time, though, was different.
The usual routine you'd followed each and every time suddenly melted away in the palm of your hands, slipping through the cracks like water as your hand hesitantly hovered over the doorknob.
A sticky note asking for something from you- after all he had taken and given. One simple request.
"What if this time you stayed?"
If only you had been aware of the nights he’d spent tracing circles against your skin, waiting until you were asleep to close his eyes.
How when he closed his eyes to fall asleep, he couldn’t stop thinking about you so long as you were near him. No matter how far away he had been he would always find his mind and heart returning home to you.
Wordless and defeated, you crawled back into the comfort of the familiar silk sheets. It was strange, new. The feeling of his arms winding around your waist had your head spinning as he pulled you close, burying his face into the crook of your neck.
This time, you had stayed. A simple favor from the heart beating so close to your own, bonded together by an unquenchable yearning for the other.
You would learn to be very gentle with this fragile heart and in return he would make sure that you never have another morning where you felt undesired.
જ⁀➴♡ phone in ᝰ.ᐟ
#. ˚◞♡ while you were sleeping#. ˚◞♡ enhypen#. ˚◞♡ lee heeseung#⭒ extras [🪞]#enhypen#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen imagines#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#lee heeseung#kpop x reader
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𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: house of the dragon | aemond targaryen x fem!reader
𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: After years of pining after Prince Aemond Targaryen, he finally allows you to meet his prized possession—his dragon.
𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: i don’t think any. this one’s mild - others won’t be lol | if u noticed anything i missed, pls let me know
𝚆𝙲: 2.7k — 11 min read time
.·:*¨༺➻𝙰/𝙽: hi omg! my first post on a shiny new blog (◕‿◕✿) i know i’m like wayy late to the game with aemond but the new trailer coming out kicked my ass into gear. this is pre-s1e10 so we're pretending that aemond does, in fact, have control of vhagar 💀 also what i learned from this fic? aemond calls u pet. i don’t make the rules sorryyy. ALSO ALSO - requests are open - pls send some!
🤍 mills
✧❦༺ 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙 |.☽.| 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 |.☽.| 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 ༻❦✧
As he lies asleep, his head resting on the leather cover of a large tome, you study the features of his face. Your eyes trace the delicate curve of his nose, the sharpness of his Cupid’s bow, his angular jawline. Entranced by him, you may not have even noticed when he stirs if it isn't for the soft hum that slips from his lips. As Aemond lifts his head, you quickly turn back to the open book in front of you.
For the last three months, you have spent an unbearable amount of time with him. He’s recently fixated on the history and technique of dragon riding, and you’ve been helping him with his research. And for the last ten years, you have spent an unbearable amount of time gazing at him from a distance, waiting for him to really notice you.
While you relish the time you spend together in private, you tire of it. The truth is that you’re itching to make a show of your friendship. Publicly. Unfortunately, you doubt Aemond will be so understanding. You’ve spent many late nights together in the library or the study. You’ve even fallen asleep more than once in his private chambers, though not wrapped in his warm arms as you might wish. Especially recently, you’ve begun to waste the nights away talking, commiserating, and comforting one another.
But in the light of the day, under the watchful eye of society, everything is so different. Though you wait for his call during the day, it never seems to come. At times you wonder if Aemond is keeping away from you on purpose. When you cannot avoid one another, he pays you no mind as if you were a simple servant and nothing more. You’ve grown closer over the past months, but he still holds back. He is a man with many secrets, and you don’t appreciate being one of them.
As he groans and stretches, you exert every morsel of self-control to avoid glancing at him, even though you know that the muscles in his neck are likely pulled taut.
“What happened?” he mutters, his voice low and rasped.
“You fell asleep,” you reply as you pretend to be immersed in your book.
“For how long?”
“No idea. I was busy and enjoying the rare silence.”
A lie. You know it’s been at least a couple of hours. The truth is that you couldn’t have woken him up, even if you wanted to. Seeing him rest… You’ve never gotten the chance to before; you’ve always fallen asleep first. But he looked so content, peaceful, young. You’ve never seen him so relaxed, and you couldn’t be the one to destroy it.
“Surely the silence pales in comparison to the charming sound of my voice, does it not?” he says.
You can’t resist the temptation to lift your eyes, and you’re glad you do. You catch him just as the corners of his mouth curve upward into his signature smirk. Even in the dim light of the library, you admire the way his cheeks wrinkle when he smiles.
“Perhaps the way it sounds in your head. To the rest of us out here, it’s rather nasally, actually.”
You offer a grin of your own. He chuckles, leaning back in his seat. He drapes an arm lazily across the the chair. His silver hair is ever so slightly mussed from his nap. As you try not to imagine what it would feel like to run your fingers through it, the light catches on something at his throat. Your eyes flick down to the dragon-shaped hooks on his leather tunic.
“Ah, I found something for you,” you say, searching around the desk. You slide a dusty, red book toward him. “It’s a record documenting the pedigree of several Old Valyrian dragons. I checked and, unfortunately, Vhagar is not among them. The book is old, outdated. Still, I thought you might find it interesting.”
He hums in approval, running his long fingers over the spine of the book. You drag your eyes away from him, busying yourself by trying to find where you’d left off reading.
“I’d like you to meet Vhagar," he says.
Your head snaps back up, your eyes widening.
“What?”
“I want you to meet my dragon.” His unwavering stare tells you that he’s absolutely serious. “You’ve never seen a dragon before, have you? In the flesh, I mean.”
“Well…yes, I suppose I have seen them at a distance but not up close.”
“Good,” he responds, that horribly charming smirk returning. “Then it’ll be educational for you.”
“No, I…” you trail off, unable to come up with an excuse more convincing than ‘I don’t want to.’
“Why? Are you afraid, pet?”
All of the excuses you’ve whipped up in your mind suddenly evaporate. That stupid word that always makes your knees weak. Apparently, you’ve made it obvious that he can have anything he wants when he calls you by that one sweet name.
“Is it not reasonable to be weary of an ancient beast?" you counter. “Dragons are fickle creatures, no matter how much training they’ve had. And that’s not to mention the sheer size alone of Vhagar. I can hardly even imagine.”
“So you do fear her then. Or is it that you do not trust me to protect you should something go awry.”
His eyebrows furrow and head tilts inquisitively. You sigh and shake your head.
“I do trust you, Aemond. It’s just…as I said, dragons are fickle, unpredictable, wild.”
“I can assure you that I have full control over Vhagar.” He pushes the chair behind him and stands before stepping closer. His hand moves to the table, and he leans over your shoulder. His silver hair drops over his frame, nearly brushing against the bare skin of your forearm. In a low, deep voice he says, “I bonded with her, claimed her, rode her with no training. The largest dragon in the known world obeys me and me only.”
Your cheeks heat as his breath ghosts over your neck. His words drip with honey, and you imagine what it would be like to hear those words said of you.
You heave a deep breath and toss him a warning glare before putting a strip of parchment in the book and snapping it closed. You sneak a glance at the clock in the corner of the room and gasp when you realize the time of night. Before you can protest any more, Aemond holds out his hand, his open palm beckoning you forward.
“Come.”
Evidently his persuasion doesn’t just work on Vhagar because at the single command, you too obey him.
He pulls you into one of the Red Keep’s secret passages, tugging you along through an unfamiliar maze of shadowed halls and steps. You follow blindly, realizing just how much you’ve allowed yourself to trust him. And wondering if it’s a good idea. What feels like an eternity later, you step outside into the chilled night air. A quick glance around allowed you to guess at where you are, and you’re proved correct as you eye the massive stone structure before you. The Dragonpit.
You’ve never been inside. You’ve never needed to until now. And you’re in absolute awe of the entire place, craning your neck to take in as much as you can. Once inside the main hall, Aemond gestures for you to wait as he retreats into the shadows.
You aren’t quite sure what to expect. You envision dragons as harsh, violent beings, but Aemond talks about them as though they’re household pets. Trying to imagine Vhagar like a common dog is impossible. Though you’re doing your best to focus on the beautiful craftsmanship of the building, you keep noticing alarming features like ash-stained walls, talon marks slashed through stone, crumbling marble columns.
“Ready?”
Aemond’s voice startles you to a jump. Your head whips to the side to find that he’s snuck up behind you and is standing less than a foot away. He smirks again as you nervously chuckle and nod. When he angles his gaze toward one of the archways, you follow it.
“Māzigon, Vhagar,” Aemond says firmly. He’d used one of the few High Valyrian words you know the meaning of. [come]
You gulp as the lumbering giant moves into the firelight, her massive wings swaying from side to side with each step. Although there is plenty to take in, your eyes immediately latch onto the giant rows of sharp teeth. Vhagar snarls as she prowls forward. An acrid, foul smelling burst of hot air surrounds you - her breath. As the dragon stalks toward you, you can feel your body instinctively shrinking back. You inch closer and closer to Aemond. The beast comes to a pause before you, its nostrils flared.
“Y/N,” Aemond announces, lifting his chin proudly. “May I present the largest dragon in the world. My dragon.”
“She’s…lovely,” you quickly respond. You really hate the way Vhagar’s orange eyes are trained unwaveringly on you.
“Would you like to touch her?”
There he goes again, talking as if he had just presented you with a standard house cat, no larger than a small child. You glance over at Aemond, tilting your head.
“D-do they like to be pet? I hadn’t really thought of them that way.”
“Like it, not so much. But she’ll tolerate it,” he leans closer, offering a sinister crooked smile, “if I command her to.”
A tingle ricochets down your spine. You’re sure he’s just poking fun and, after all, he's talking about Vhagar. But you cannot deny that you, again, pretend you’re the one he’s playing with. You shake yourself out of your head and shrug.
“Alright then. How do you suggest I do this?”
“Lift your hand, flat palm, facing her. I’ll have her come to you. Oh, and try not to move, pet.”
You nod and take a deep breath before extending your arm as far as it will go and positioning your hand as instructed. Aemond steps forward in front of you, waving Vhagar forward.
“Māzigon, Vhagar,” Aemond repeats.
With a huff of hot air and a low growl, Vhagar begins to walk forward. It takes most of your willpower not to shy away. Aemond turns, standing to the side of you and Vhagar as the dragon inches closer and closer to your outstretched arm. She pauses just a few inches from your fingers. You freeze, unsure how to proceed. After a few moments of awkward silence, Aemond speaks.
“You can touch her now,” he teases. “She won’t come closer, you’ll have to meet her halfway.”
“I…right,” you mutter but remain still.
Aemond chuckles, circling around to stand behind you. Once again, he leans closer to you, his voice sounding sweet in your ear as he says, “I told you before, there’s no need to fear her. I have complete control. She won’t harm you.”
You know he’s probably right, but you still can’t bring yourself to move a muscle. You will every fiber of your being to obey you, to reach forward and touch the thing in front of you. But you can’t. More silent moments pass.
Suddenly, you feel the warmth of Aemond’s broad hand as it flattens on the small of your back. You arch your spine in response, startled yet electrified by his gentle touch. His other hand moves to wrap around your forearm, and his body molds around the outside of yours. With careful movements, he pushes your arm forward. Vhagar jerks, tossing her head with a growl. Aemond stops abruptly.
“Manda, Vhagar,” he says quietly. “Manda.” [gentle]
Vhagar huffs but lowers her head just enough for Aemond to guide your stretched palm onto her forehead. You release a breath, smiling despite yourself.
The feeling of her scales is strange - not how you expected. She is smooth and hot, like the ceramic surface of a warm teacup. You giggle, feeling almost giddy at the fact that you’re petting a real dragon as if it were a pup. You marvel at her, running your fingers over her broad head.
“She’s very important to you, isn’t she?” you ask, the thought escaping your lips before you really have the chance to stop it.
A few moments of silence pass before he replies, “Yes. She was…”
His voice fades but you nudge him with your shoulder.
“She was what?”
He heaves a sigh.
“A way to prove myself. To show everyone that I'm not to be passed over simply because I am the second son.”
You nod, your fingers still trailing over Vhagar’s scales.
“While I cannot understand the feeling, I can imagine how difficult it must be,” you reply. “Particularly when your older brother is someone like Aegon, who avoids his responsibilities like a sickness. When you are the one training, studying. It cannot be easy. But she is a very fine dragon, indeed. One you’ve earned. Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For trusting me. For sharing her with me.”
You’re still so fascinated by the texture of her scales and blurred by the sound of your nervous heart pounding in your ears that it takes you a moment to realize Aemond’s palm sliding up your arm to cover your own hand. Your smile fades.
He’s never touched you before. Not like this - not so…intentionally, sweetly. You turn your head back to glance up at him and are surprised to find him staring down at you. His parted lips and furrowed eyebrows make your knees feel weak. His hand slips onto your wrist, pulling your touch away from Vhagar. He guides you to face him and wraps his free hand around your other wrist. You don’t resist as your gaze drops down to his lips and then returns to his eyes.
“Qrīdrughagon.” [leave, away]
He doesn’t even bother to look at Vhagar as he speaks the command. With his hands secured firmly around your wrists, he gazes down at you. His thumb brushes along your skin, almost in time with your rapid heartbeat. You dare to look into his stormy eye once again, doing your best to seem enticing but not desperate. Though, by the gods do you feel it.
“I knew you would understand, pet. You’ve always seemed to understand me. No one else ever tries like you.”
He lifts a hand, brushing his knuckles across your cheekbone. Your eyes close in contentment at the sensation of his touch on your skin. When his finger hooks under your chin, you raise your face willingly. Aemond guides you toward him, your noses touching. Your hand slides onto his chest, a fist curling around the leather fabric of his tunic. His breath is hot and fast on your mouth. You release an involuntary gasp.
And then his lips crash onto you, slipping in between yours. When your mouths separate, he wastes no time coming back to you. He angles his head to reach you better as his grip slips from your face to curve around your waist. His other hand, still encircling your wrist, pulls your hand toward his chest and holds it tightly against his heart. His lips move expertly on yours. He pushes against you, and you meet his energy to deepen the kiss. You can feel his grasp tightening, his fingers clutching the material of the fabric on your back. The pressure sends your back into an arch and presses your chest flush against his. He begins to drag his fistfull of your clothes upward. You separate, breathless. But your fingers grip at his tunic, refusing to let him move any further away. He chuckles breathily and moves to attach his lips to yours again. A loud snort from Vhagar startles you, and you jerk back from one another.
“Oh…” you muse and chuckle quietly.
“I should take her back,” he says, breathlessly.
You smooth your hair as Aemond glares at Vhagar. He releases you but not before lifting your hand, curled tightly around his, to his lips and pressing a chaste kiss to your fingers. He steps away to take care of his dragon. With his back to you, he glances over his shoulder. His chest still rises and falls heavily as his eyes flick up and down your frame, the ghost of a wicked smile playing on his lips.
“Troublesome girls, the both of you,” he says teasingly.
When you return to your private chamber the next morning after breakfast, you find a small, stuffed dragon with greenish-blue bronze scales and a handwritten note, which reads:
𝒯𝑜 𝓂𝓎 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓏𝑒𝒹 𝓅𝑒𝓉. 𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝑒. 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊.
— 𝒜.
tags: wanna be tagged?
#aemond targaryen#ewan mitchell#aemond x reader#house of the dragon#hotd#aemond targaryen fic#hotd fic#quill and quiver
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For the last two nights, I have been locked in a deadly battle against the sadistic smoke alarm in my bedroom. I have emerged victorious, but it has been a close-run and deeply humiliating thing. Let me take you on a stupid, stupid journey.
Flashback: The night before last, I am woken out of a dead sleep at 5am by the persistently and maddeningly consistent chirp of a low-battery smoke alarm. You know the one: [Thirty seconds of blissful silence] CHIRP. [Thirty seconds of confused but slightly less blissful silence] CHIRP. [Thirty seconds of hopeful silence that maybe it's done n -- ] CHIRP.
Anyway. I tried to ignore it for a bit. This did not work. I hoped it would go away. This also did not work. I finally get out of bed and angrily lumber around the apartment, stick my head out the front door, etc, looking for the source. Finally, I seize upon the hallway smoke alarm and vengefully remove the battery, deciding that if I therefore die in a fire in the next three hours, this is a worthwhile sacrifice. (Sidenote that will become important later: The bedroom smoke alarm is located less than a foot from the hallway smoke alarm. Did I walk right past it? Multiple times? Apparently so.)
Falsely confident that I have solved the problem, I get back in bed. Surely this is now totally --
CHIRP.
I contemplate homicide. I think the noise is surely coming from one of my neighbors' units and wonder why they are so stupid as not to know that there is a frigging alarm going off constantly and disturbing my sleep and probably theirs. I figure that while I might be going crazy and hearing things which are not there, it's probably the case that someone else can hear it too. Finally, I appear to be vindicated in this assumption when the infernal cheeping finally stops and I am able to fall soundly back to sleep for another three hours. When I wake up, it remains quiet. All day, in fact!
Ha! I think. Problem solved.
I am incorrect.
Last night: I get ready for bed. I get in bed, I am awake for a bit, and then lo, it starts again, at literally midnight. Thirty seconds [CHIRP]. Thirty seconds [CHIRP]. Thirty seconds, [CHIRP].
I don't know why it wants to make me suffer in this way. We have established that for whatever reason it decided to hold its fire over the last entire day, it was nothing whatsoever to do with anything I did. I don't know why it decided to resume at LITERALLY MIDNIGHT instead of, you know, any other hour where I would be better equipped to discover the source of this nocturnal demonic howling, but I suspect this is my penance. I once more attempt to ignore it. Turn up the white noise machine and put in the earplugs. Remind myself that I have started meditating lately, maybe I can use that!
It does not work.
I attempt to figure out whether it is coming from the next door neighbors or the upstairs neighbors. GET UP AND TURN IT OFF, I think in great vexation. Nope. Still nothing. It keeps going. I contemplate the folly of all human existence.
Finally, once more driven to extremes, I get up and AGAIN lumber all the way around the apartment, like an angry sleep-deprived zombie, to try and fail to discover the source of this infernal bellowing. As most of you know, I am about to start my fourth graduate degree. Habitually and fondly, I consider myself somewhat smarter than the average potted plant. This however continues to avail me nothing. I compose angry emails in my head to the maintenance department, which said they had fixed a similar problem and then didn't. WHY ARE MY NEIGHBORS SO DUMB, I wonder. THAT IS CLEARLY IN THEIR UNIT AND THEY SHOULD TURN IT OFF.
I get back in bed. I take a sleeping pill. Either that works or the cacophony mysteriously subsides for a while, because I get to sleep for about four hours and have weird, smoke-alarm-inflected dreams. I wake up again this morning. It is still beeping. How bad, I think, could it really be if I burned this place down?
Finally, I give up. I get up. I turn off the white noise machine and take out the earplugs. Wow, I think. This noise truly is so loud. Is it possibly in my apartment after all? I remember that like a true Luddite, my preferred superpower would be to smash all noise-making machines. Yes, I am approximately ninety years old in almost every way. Let's not dwell on it.
I light upon the bedroom smoke detector. I narrow my eyes.
I spring forth and disembowel the culprit of its battery.
At last! For the first time in forty-eight hours! Blessed silence falls upon my abode! I stare at the cursed machine. The inside of the battery compartment reads CAUTION: ALARM IS NONFUNCTIONAL WITH BATTERY REMOVED.
"YES," I bellow, in my angry and confused sleep-deprived caveman haze. "YES, THAT IS PRESENTLY MY EXACT INTENTION."
Silence. Finally. Except for the sound of another alarm chirping somewhere in the distance, as it has done for several weeks now, but quietly enough that I can mostly tune it out. I will purchase a new battery when I am out today, but etc etc if I die in a fire in the next three hours, you may assume the sadistic smoke alarm has taught me its final lesson.
So. There you go. There is no moral to this story except a) the call was indeed coming from inside the house, b) Share O My Toils, Tumblr; and c) sometimes it is indeed you. The angry groggy moron lumbering around at the dead of night and attempting to break things in a vain effort to shut them up, wondering why their neighbors won't get up and turn it off instead, is sometimes just you.
Tonight, at last, I will sleep in peace. Until I once more become Frodo of the Shire, One Who Has Seen The Eye (of the demonically possessed smoke detector).
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WARNING: DIAPER MESSING/PEEING, DIARRHEA, ALCHOL MENTIONED
Aaron woke to a wet feeling around his bottom for the second time that morning. The first time he had woken up, he had been too hungover to do anything about the fact that he was urinating. Going out for drinks the night before had been a bad idea for so many reasons, but mostly because his bladder simply could not handle that much alcohol.
Now, he groggily sat up in bed and pulled the wet sheets off himself. He didn’t have the energy to get mad at himself or the brand of diapers he was wearing for the huge wet stain that spread to the far reaches of his bed. He reached down to feel the waterlogged diaper that sat between his legs. It was soaked yellow and leaked a little when Aaron touched it. It was as if he had started peeing as soon as he fell asleep and hadn’t stopped until he had just woken up. And oh gosh, it smelled awful. He was lucky for the mattress cover, or he would have had to throw the whole thing away. Today was definitely laundry day.
Aaron removed his wet diaper and shirt and left them both on the bed. He walked naked to grab a trash bag, his hamper, and a new diaper. He knew he should shower first, but he wanted to rid the smell from the room asap, and he was unsure how long cleanup would take or if he was fully empty. Sure enough, as he dumped everything into the washing machine, he felt a trickle in his diaper. It wasn't nearly as much as before, but if he hadn't been wearing a diaper, he would have had to mop as well.
With everything in the wash, Aaron stretched and yawned as he made his way towards the shower. His diaper was wet again, so he smelled even more like urine than before. He barely got the bathroom door open when his alarm went off. He picked up his phone to silence it, then swore when he realized what it was for. It had been going off for 30 minutes to remind him that he had a Zoom class at 10. It was now 9:55. He rushed to his computer to log in before remembering that he was completely shirtless. He slipped into the first T-shirt he grabbed just as the class started.
This professor was, unfortunately, strict about having the camera on. She didn't care about being muted, but she wanted to make sure everyone was at the very least paying attention. The rule was that if you had to turn your camera off, it was only twice and for five minutes unless you had a good excuse. Aaron would have used one of his times to change when he realized the shirt he'd grabbed was an ABDL T-shirt with cute animals flying planes, but he didn't want to draw attention to it. Thank goodness it wasn't a more obvious one, but he made sure not to stand because this particular shirt doubled as a onesie. Halfway through the class, he felt something pressing against his bottom. He was glad he was muted because the gas that shot out of him just then was like a firecracker. He hadn't even eaten today, but the results of last night's disaster were finally making their way out of his colon. Aaron did his best not to make a face as he quickly switched off his camera. It was coming out, and he barely had time to stand up before something painfully snaked out of him. It stung as his bottom opened up to another solid mass of poop, warming the back of his diaper with another filthy release.
"Mr. Millards, I'm timing you," the professor said, referring to Aaron. But he could barely hear her over the sound of his diaper filling. It took three minutes before he felt like he was okay enough to stop, though he could tell he wasn't empty. It wasn't lost on him that he didn't have enough time to change, and he grimaced as he looked back at the bulging brown and yellow padding wrapped around his waist. He held his breath, carefully lowered his bottom into his seat, and cringed as he felt the hot oatmeal texture spread around his bottom. The smell was immediate and rancid. He wondered what the hell he ate last night and swore to avoid it the next time he was blackout drunk. He wiped away his sweat, prayed his diaper wouldn't leak during class, and returned to the Zoom session.
Aaron felt each minute of the rest of class drag on, each second making his stomach twitch. When it finally ended, he'd never turned his camera off so fast. His next class wasn't for another three hours, so he rushed to grab a new pair of clothes, deodorant, cologne, and opened up his ottoman to grab a fresh diap-
His face fell.
Aaron kept all of his diapers boxed up in an ottoman at the foot of his bed. He'd grabbed the last diaper from one of the boxes this morning, thinking the others were full. They were not.
He didn't know what to do. Aaron ordered all of his diapers online. Even with same-day shipping, they weren't getting here until tomorrow. His next class was in person; he didn't have time for that! His best bet was to head to the nearest store to buy some generic pull-ups, but there was still the problem of his full diaper. He'd worn diapers for so long now that going out in underwear wasn't an option. He could try to use the potty before he left, but with his stomach in turmoil, there was no telling if he'd still have an accident. His heart sank when he realized that not only was he going to have to go out in a filthy diaper, but he also needed to pee again.
The only outfit Aaron owned that was loose enough to hide his diaper bulge was a pair of loose joggers and an oversized T-shirt. They didn't really match, but more importantly, they were light-colored. There was no hiding it if he leaked. He checked himself in the mirror, hyper-focusing on his bottom. You really couldn't tell unless you were looking really hard...or if you smelled him. He tried his best to cover up the smell with cologne, but that almost seemed to make it worse. He was just going to have to not stand close to anyone.
He opted to walk to the store for obvious reasons. He couldn't focus on driving and not squishing his diaper. The walk to the store wasn't far, but it sure felt like it with every crinkling, squishy step he took. He hoped the sound of cars driving past would cover up the sound, and the nearby dumpsters could take the blame for any lingering smells. He couldn't stop thinking about how much his poop had spread around in his diaper. It was smushed into every crevice and felt like cold mud on his bottom. He knew his shirt was long enough to cover his bottom, but he felt like if his pants fell even a centimeter someone would catch sight of his toasted marshmallow bottom.
Aaron breathed a sigh of relief when he finally reached the store. Despite his anxiety, no one had seemed to notice his predicament. Or if they did, no one had pointed it out. His mind began to calm as he walked the store aisles, and by the time he grabbed the pull-ups, he felt okay enough to change in the store bathroom, as long as it was empty. Maybe they had a family bathroom he could use? If that was the case, he figured he should grab some wipes. He blushed, thinking about how big of a mess he had made and how he couldn't wait to get clean.
As he walked out of the diaper aisle with his supplies, he felt his stomach drop. Instinctively, his hand reached back to cover his bottom, and a splortch echoed off the linoleum walls. He felt eyes on him, but he was too focused on holding back a flood, his body trembling as he strained. He had just let out a handful of mushy diarrhea into his diaper, and he could tell there was more to come. He stayed there until he felt safe enough to move, then carefully made his way to the checkout aisle. His tummy rumbled angrily and his bottom hurt from holding it in, but there was no way he could go right now. He approached the self-checkout and whined anxiously when he saw the line. It wasn't that long, but his stomach thought otherwise. People could hear it groan audibly, and he tried his best not to make eye contact with any of them. By the time it was his turn, he could feel the whole store staring at him, the anxiety making his situation worse. He tried to focus on scanning; he only had two items. He just had to scan them, pay, and then he could run to the bathroom and use his diaper in peace—
PHBLARTCH
It was so loud it caught Aaron off guard, and he was pushing out another load before he knew what was happening. He let out an involuntary grunt of pain and effort as muck poured from his bottom and joined his previous mess. His knees shook as he pooped, and he gripped the register to balance himself. His body took that as a signal to keep going, and his bottom let out another wave of diarrhea. Of course, it was too much for his diaper to handle, and he felt the explosion before he heard it. Liquid brown spilled out of the leg holes of his diaper and ran down his legs, staining his light-colored pants. When he pooped again, everyone saw it bubble out of his diaper and travel down the sullied parts of the fabric. Aaron tried not to think of all the eyes on him as he painfully soiled his diaper for the second time that day. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, reminding him that he had a class in a bit.
He definitely wasn't going to make it.
#💜writing💜#messing#scat kink#omutsu#omorashi#eproctophilia#omo#aaahhh it feels good to write again😌#dont get used to it XD
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Fic prompt: character A falls asleep on character B, who needs to get up to get something but doesn’t want to disturb character A and therefore comes up with a maybe impractical solution to get the thing they need without waking up character A
There was kind of a lot going on when Ed was startled awake.
He registered the horrifying crash that had woken him up, the tail end of Stede's aww dammit, and, in pretty much the same moment, an awful gurgling noise caused by Ed reflexively jabbing his arm into Stede's throat in an attempt to curtail some imagined attacker.
"Stede!" Ed yelped, scrambling up from his formerly-comfortable spot curled in Stede's lap to straddle his hips, checking for damage. "Are you okay?"
"I was okay," Stede hissed, prodding at the tender red spot on his throat with his forefinger, "before you slammed your entire body weight into my throat, you nut!"
"Sorry." Ed grimaced, bending to press a kiss over the spot. Thankfully, the angle hadn't been very good, and his flailing had hit him mostly by accident. "What was that noise?"
Stede went quiet, starting to get a tinge of pink around the tips of his ears. "I needed to blow out the light," he said mildly.
"Blow out the...?" Ed shifted himself back into Stede's lap, flinging his legs over his thighs so he could see - oh, what the fuck.
Ed blinked at the pile of debris scattered around the side table next to their couch. Crumpled up paper balls, pillows, and a couple heavy books (what must have woken Ed up, he guessed) lay in a haphazard pile around the table, the oil lamp still burning merrily amidst the wreckage.
Ed immediately started laughing his head off, and, to his relief, Stede started laughing, too, his head falling to Ed's shoulder, pressing a kiss to the bare skin there between his laughs. "You're lucky you didn't start a fire, babe! Why did you think that would work?"
"I mean, it really doesn't need you to blow that hard," Stede shrugged, a hand landing easily, possessively, over Ed's hip in a way that just made him purr. "So I thought, you know, maybe the gust from something flying overhead..."
"Did you try -"
"Yes," Stede said, "I tried blowing from here."
He tried again, just blowing ineffectually into space, and Ed joined in to no avail. Stupid oil lamp just kept burning.
"Damn," Ed wheezed, breathless from his heroic attempt to blow out the light from across the room. "Why didn't you just get up?"
Stede brushed a strand of hair behind Ed's ear, his eyes crinkling with the softest smile in the world, the one he reserved just for Ed. "You were sleeping so well."
Fuck, but if it was possible for love to kill, Ed would've died ages ago.
"Alright," he said, straddling Stede's lap again and wrapping his arms around his neck. "I'll show you how it's done, watch. Just take me with you."
Stede laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek before hoisting him up. Ed buried his giggles into the side of Stede's neck, wrapping his legs tight around his waist as Stede hobbled them over to the lamp. He held it up for Ed to blow out, and Ed loved him so much that the room stayed golden even when it was out.
"See?" Ed wrapped his arms tighter around Stede's neck, cuddling into his chest. "Wasn't so hard, was it?"
#ofmd#thank you so much for this one it was so cute!!#and don't be afraid to send weird ones pip! i can't promise i'll get to all of the little requests but these are fun! :)#pccp's kidney stone fics
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Elements Seperated - Human form not (really) needed
It’s nice, Gempa thinks, waking up to the warmth of your family, feeling their presence, knowing they’re all here. Safe and sound, but he needs to get up. Slowly not to wake his siblings, the earth spirit made his way out from under the blanket to welcome a new day. He glances at the clock on the table. It’s still early in the morning.
And it seems his older brother already got up too. Old habits die hard huh?
Slipping off the bed, Gempa’s form shift and changes. There’s no need for a detailed human form right away, just whatever will let them function. Both spirits ended up just looking like vaguely humanoid constructs decorated by their elements, but nobody will mind.
“Mrgh… Guys?”
Their master, Boboiboy asked in his sleepy morning voice. He must have woken up because of their absence.
“Yes, we’re here Ori” Gempa touched his forehead against Boboiboy’s, shards of mineral gently brushing Boboiboy’s bed hair out of his face.
“What day is it?”
“It’s a Sunday. You can sleep in if you want”
Boboiboy looks at his current state, surrounded by the still asleep orb elementals, chuckling.
“Yeah, I think I’ll have to be in bed for a bit”
“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me”
A look in the fridge tells him he’ll probably need to go grocery shopping today, but for now, this is plenty ingredients for both breakfast and lunch, there are also leftovers from yesterday.
At the kitchen area, he spots Hali opening the cupboard with a limb made of red lightning, bringing out a bag of coffee instead of cocoa.
“Coffee?”
Gempa nods. He usually prefers tea but coffee doesn’t sound half bad this morning. The lightning spirit hits a few buttons, and got the coffee machine working. The delightful smell spreads throughout the house, successfully rousing another of their sibling out of sleep.
“Good morning you glorified chandelier”
“Good morning to you too, Hymenopus Coronatus”
No, Solar didn’t cast a spell on Hali. The two are simply calling each other by what they look like now. Gempa goes back to cooking after saying his own good morning to the spirit of light, seeing no reason to worry about a fight.
“I smelled coffee”
“Yeah, making some right now. Want any?”
“Obviously”
The sudden increase in lighting for a brief moment tells huge spirit of earth that Solar just had his coffee.
A warm beverage goes well with this peaceful morning, Gempa thought, as one of his arms brought the cup to his ‘mouth’. Just this finishing touch and breakfast should be ready. Suddenly, the doorbell rang, he could hear the fastest game of rock paper scissors ever happen, and Solar walking towards the door.
It’s natural one would prefer nice home cooked meals over rations, and Fang certainly isn’t the best chef, so eating at Tok Aba and Boboiboy’s house it is then. Not that he would ever admit that out loud, it’s embarrassing. He can give a compliment when it’s due though and it shall be expressed in actions.
But either he misremembered, or something bad has happened, as the one who opened the door… Whoever it is definitely isn’t human. A body made of light with no discernible features save for limbs, hands with blackened tips, and worst of all is their head. It was like one of those ‘biblically accurate angels’ he was shown by Gopal once, golden rings intertwined together, covered in silver eyes and mystical patterns. In the middle of it all, is a white dwarf.
It took Fang a few seconds to process what in the name of stars he just saw, but he reached for the door handle and pushes it back.
“My apologies, it seems I’ve gotten the wrong house-“ the alien said as politely as possible, while frantically trying to close the door.
“Wait a minute- Child it is I- Wait no, Fang it’s me, Solar!” The light spirit was also frantically trying to convince Fang it’s him, while keeping the door open.
Breakfast was nice, but Fang wished he had a warning about the elementals not bothering to look human today.
“Please, transform properly before opening the door?”
“Sorry about that. You know caffeine has no effect on us”
The purple haired alien could only sigh and bury his head in his hands. Now he knows why all those ancient civilizations were so spooked by the elementals
- By your pal, SP Anon
Drew the scenarios :)))
#boboiboy#bbb elements separated au#xoshi asks#xoshi answers#sp scenarios#solars appearance isnt exactly as described 👍#i love this entire thing#fang is scared#put a lot of effort onto that one#yeah
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I've stumbled upon your blog and I just wanted to say I love your work. I didn't see any guidelines for requests or if you're even accepting requests(I've scrolled to the bottom of ur blog)so if ur not taking requests rn or you have too many things to catch up on or just don't want to, feel free to ignore me I won't be disappointed or angry. Anyway, sorry for rambling, I was wondering if you could write smth where PolySkz react to y/n having a nightmare and sneaking to the living room to watch their comfort show/movie at a low volume. Again if you can't write this for any reason, don't worry. The only thing I hope for is that you're taking care of yourself and not stressing out too much. Lots of love, have a wonderful day/night😙
I'm currently accepting requests, and no, I don't have any guidelines right now for them. I won't write certain things I find uncomfortable, though, but nothing has been requested that's made me uncomfortable yet. I know this was requested a while ago, but I finally had time to do it, so here you go <3
You don't know what time it was. You just knew you woke up in sweat and felt terrified. You don't even remember what the nightmare was about. You just knew you couldn't sleep after that.
You looked across the bed and saw your boyfriends all across the huge bed. You knew you were practically shaking at this point.
Normally, you'd wake your boyfriends up, but you didn't want to bother them knowing they have practice in the morning.
You carefully removed Changbins and Minhos arm off you and crawled over Changbin to get to the door. Maybe getting some water and watching your favorite show would help.
You make your way to the kitchen, grabbing a cup and going to the sink filling it up with water. Your hands are still slightly shaking, and you just hope you don't drop the glass on the ground.
You surprisingly make it to the couch and are able to set the glass on the table. You sigh, grabbing the remote, and turn down the volume so you don't wake your boyfriends with your show.
You get up remembering the blanket from the laundry that Minho forced Jisung and Hyunjin into doing (who acted like they had no idea how to do it and it took your boyfriend threatening them to get them to do it). You walk to the hall closet, open the door, and grab the fluffy blanket.
You make your way back to the couch. You sigh as you settle on the couch. You throw the blanket over you and grab the remote once again. You quickly find your comfort show turning it on.
You lean back into the couch and sigh, still slightly trembling. Maybe it's best if you lay down so you do exactly that. Luckily, Minho loved picking out the furniture and had you along with Felix go with him. You all eventually found the perfect matching set after almost looking for 30 minutes. (Along with spam calls and texts from Hyunjin asking why he wasn't invited, knowing he'd have kept you there for hours.)
You sigh as your head hits the pillow and you know you aren't going to sleep.
It was Chan who had woken up. He sat up, knowing something was off. His eyes were trying to adjust to the dark. His eyes scan over the dark room and across the room. He slowly counts the body's. 7. That was how many he could make out in the room.
He counted once again. 7. Who was missing? He tries remembering where everyone had once laid on the bed mere hours ago. His eyes then fall in between Changbin and Minho. Didn't you fall asleep right there? Where were you if you weren't in bed? Was something wrong?
He tries his best to get out of bed without waking anyone but fails as he feels the youngest sits up rubbing his eyes. He looks at him and sighs at the younger boy. His eyes follow over the bed before landing on Chan.
"Everything okay?" He mumbles sleepily.
"Yeah. You can go back to bed love." He says whispering.
The exchange of words, even though it was quiet, had Changbin stirring. He blinks his eyes open and looks and sees Minho in front of him and an empty spot where you laid hours before. He sits up himself and looks at the 2 boys.
"Where's Y/N? Is she okay?" Changbin asks, tired but slightly aware. That has the younger boy looking to the spot you previously occupied.
"I don't know. I was just about to go look for her." Chan says, and that has Changbin taking the covers off him and getting up. Chan gets up along with I.N.
Chan sighs softly, going out the door first. He quietly peeked into the kitchen and noticed you're not there. Neither are you in the bathroom. The final place his eyes land on is the living room.
He hears the gentle sound of your tv. His eyes fall on your form on the couch, and that has the other 2 boys stopping in their tracks as they look at you. You don't notice them, though, too wrapped up in the show.
What are you doing here? Couldn't sleep? Chan had no idea. Chan lets out a relieved sigh, though, when he sees your form now on the couch.
You hear a sigh and look down the hall to see 3 figures. You can make out one of the 3 figures. "Chan?" You say, and he steps closer to you seeing you had now noticed them.
"Bin and Innie as well, sweetheart." Chan says as the 3 walk to the couch.
You lift the blanket, and Changbin immediately sits beside you. You lay your head on his shoulder, and he wraps his arms around you.
I.N. lays across yours and Changbin's lap. Chan sits beside you and faces his palm up. You take his hand in yours, intertwining them.
"You okay, baby?" Chan asks softly. You nod softly.
You hear more feet shuffle down the hallway. You all look over to see Jisung and Felix sleepily walking down the hallway. Jisung rubs his eyes sleepily while Felix lets out a yawn.
I.N. sits up moving more to lay his head in Changbins lap, knowing that one of the two would want to cling to you considering how tired they are. He's right as Jisung silently climbs into your lap. He says nothing as he rests his head on your shoulder, and you can't help but smile. Felix, meanwhile, cuddles into Chans lap.
"Everything okay?" Felix mumbles out eyes already starting to get heavy once more. He glances at you, clearly making it aimed at you.
"I'm okay. Just had a nightmare. I didn't mean to wake you guys. I hope the tv wasn't too loud." You tell the boys.
Changbin shakes his head. "It wasn't. We were just worried. We woke up, and you were nowhere to be found." You nod gently against Changbins shoulder.
You can hear more feet shuffling down the hall once more, and you can't help but smile as you hear bickering. "See. I told you everyone was fine." A sleepy Seungmin and a worried sleepy Hyunjin makes their way into the living room. Instead of trying to fit themselves on the cramped couch, they lay on the other couch nearby.
"Yeah, yeah. Just cuddle me, Minnie." Hyunjin cuddles into the side of Seungmin. Seungmin sighs softly but wraps his arms around Hyunjin.
Chan presses a kiss to your head. "You could've woken us up. We would've been more than happy to cuddle you." Chans thumb rubs the back of your hand.
"You all were sleeping so well. You have to get up early in the morning too for work." You try to explain. Chan hums quietly.
You feel someone peek over the couch above you. It almost gives you a heart attack. "I should flick you on the head. If you can't sleep, look what happens? You should have at least woken one of us up." Minho is standing above you, and you're not sure how you didn't hear him come down the hallway. His messy hair is in his face, and he's clearly still tired.
"You have work in the morning." You tell him softly, and you watch as he sighs out.
"Doesn't matter. We can always take a sick day or something." Minho mumbles out. You reach one of your hands up to caress Minhos face, and he leans into your hand, closing his eyes.
"I would never ask any of you to do something like that." You tell him, and he sighs.
"You don't have to. We're your boyfriends. We want to do everything to make you feel better." Seungmin is staring around you, and you give him a small smile.
Minho sighs out, bringing his own hand over yours. He opens his eyes once more. "Up. All of you. You're all going back to bed. I'm not going to listen to Bin or Hyunjin whine about how they have cramps in their neck from sleeping out here in the morning." Minho pulls away from your touch reluctantly.
Chan is the first one to move along with Felix. Felix wraps himself around Chan, cuddling further into him, making Chan smile. Then it's Seungmin and Hyunjin. "Carry me." Hyunjin tells his younger boyfriend, but Seungmin only intertwines their hands. "You're dead weight like this. I'm not carrying you." Hyunjin whines for a second, but then he's following Seungmin into your shared room.
You look at I.N. who is trying to pull a tired Changbin up. "Come on. You can sleep in our bed." He eventually gets Changbin up and off the couch, and they disappear down the hallway.
Your eyes finally fall on the man clinging to you like his life depends on it. "Ji. Baby, you have to get up." You tell him, but he doesn't move. You look at Minho, and he sighs. He disappears down the hallway, but then he's back with Chan. Chan smiles before he's pulling Jisung away from you. Jisung whines for a few seconds, but then he's immediately clinging to Chan. Chan presses a quick kiss to Minhos' lips before he disappears down the hall.
Minhos eyes finally fall on you. "Still don't think you'll be able to sleep?" Minho asks you, and you shake your head. Minho sighs out, but then he's beside you on the couch.
"What are we watching?" Minho asks, grabbing the remote. You laugh as he presses play on the tv.
"You sure you don't want to go lay back in there?" You ask as you lean your head on Minhos shoulder. "Chan has them all, plus Changbin will try to cling to me like a koala and try to accidentally suffocate me." Minhos words make you let out a small laugh. "We can go back in there after you fall asleep." Minho tells you, and you nods, snuggling into him.
Eventually, your eyes start to close. You feel yourself being lifted up, though, and carried. You feel warmth as you cuddle into the bodies that surround you on the giant bed. It only makes you further drift off into unconscious.
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𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 : 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄
Writing / roleplay prompts collected from the POV chapters of Cersei Lannister in A Feast for Crows , the fourth book of the ASOIAF saga. Feel free to adjust pronouns / etc. as needed.
tw: dark & mature themes, death, violence, suggestive / sexual content
❝ We are not alone. ❞
❝ Where are my guards? ❞
❝ I must show no fear. ❞
❝ What do you want of me? ❞
❝ The Lord Commander said come get you. ❞
❝ I am dreaming still. I have not woken, nor has my nightmare ended. ❞
❝ A dream, that’s all it was. A dream. ❞
❝ I drank too much last night. ❞
❝ These fears are only humors born of wine. ❞
❝ I will be the one laughing, come dusk. ❞
❝ My children will be safe, his throne will be secure, and my twisted little brother will be short a head and rotting. ❞
❝ He keeps guards around him night and day. ❞
❝ We found a hidden door behind the hearth. A secret passage. ❞
❝ Who is with the king? ❞
❝ Allow me a moment to dress. ❞
❝ The bright star of the west has fallen, and the nights will be darker now. ❞
❝ They would not dare lie to me about such a thing. ❞
❝ That is not the way a lion dies. ❞
❝ Now there is a hole in the world where he once stood. ❞
❝ There will be no more talk of forcing me to wed again. ❞
❝ Such a man deserves a retinue to attend his needs in hell. ❞
❝ No one is to enter or leave without my permission. ❞
❝ He had steel in his voice as well. ❞
❝ I am the only true son he ever had. ❞
❝ This cursed tower has too many steps. ❞
❝ Should I scream and tear my hair? ❞
❝ Did you weep for your own father? ❞
❝ How could you leave him like this? ❞
❝ And how shall I deal with the girl? ❞
❝ What is she doing here!? ❞
❝ He was questioning her, to be sure. ❞
❝ And what better way to question her than naked, with her legs well spread? ❞
❝ Do you expect me to believe that you knew nothing of her plans? ❞
❝ Later he will come to me, for comfort. ❞
❝ We are his heirs. It will be up to us to finish his work. ❞
❝ Don’t ask me to rule. ❞
❝ I shall rule until my son comes of age. ❞
❝ I don’t know who I pity more. ❞
❝ I must have been mad to think he could be Hand. ❞
❝ The hand does not argue with the head. ❞
❝ I will need to move carefully with that one. ❞
❝ The girl is twice his age and twice widowed. ❞
❝ A man may prefer the taste of hippocras, yet if you set a tankard of ale before him, he will quaff it quick enough. ❞
❝ I will not suffer guards to sleep on watch. ❞
❝ He is in the walls. ❞
❝ I laughed in her face, but she had powers. ❞
❝ I saw my future in a drop of blood. ❞
❝ It is blood I need, not water. ❞
❝ We will not appear at the sept wet and bedraggled. ❞
❝ The gods are weeping for him. ❞
❝ If the gods could weep, they would have wept for your brother. Rain is rain. ❞
❝ I thought there would be more people. ❞
❝ He never wanted love. ❞
❝ You cannot eat love, nor buy a horse with it, nor warm your halls on a cold night. ❞
❝ The mob must have its show. ❞
❝ Let him run to the ends of the earth, he will not escape me. ❞
❝ The man is as useless as nipples on a breastplate. ❞
❝ His eyes could see inside you, could see how weak and worthless and ugly you were down deep. ❞
❝ It is my look they will flinch from now, my frown that they must fear. ❞
❝ I am a lion too. ❞
❝ I shall be greater. ❞
❝ She has a good many ladies waiting attendance on her, night and day. ❞
❝ I am happy to see you looking so much stronger. ❞
❝ The riverlands have need of a strong hand. ❞
❝ And you are going to be wed as well. ❞
❝ May your wife give you strong sons. ❞
❝ Knighting him was a mistake, and bedding him a bigger one. ❞
❝ Do you have many friends across the water? ❞
❝ She even smells of sin, like some exotic lotus. ❞
❝ You are most kind. I know that we shall be great friends. ❞
❝ If there is aught that I might do to serve in this dark hour, you need only ask. ❞
❝ Do they think I will just serve the realm up to them on a gilded platter. ❞
❝ I will see you dead. ❞
❝ We’ll see how sweet a corpse you make. ❞
❝ You will not speak of this with anyone. ❞
❝ It may be that the cause is . . . less natural, let us say. A spell, I think. ❞
❝ The archmaesters are all craven at heart. ❞
❝ Need I say that it will go ill for you if any word of your labors should pass beyond these walls? ❞
❝ Your secrets are safe with me. ❞
❝ He broods too much. ❞
❝ He needs to be put to work to get beyond his grief. ❞
❝ I scarcely knew what I was saying. ❞
❝ He is gallant, but a bit of a fool, let us be frank. ❞
❝ You were unwise to shame him in front of half the court. ❞
❝ Every man needs someone he can trust. ❞
❝ You ask much of me. ❞
❝ If you are resolved against another marriage, I will not force it on you. ❞
❝ My place is with my son. ❞
❝ Open your eyes and look around you. The kingdom is in ruins. ❞
❝ I shall set matters right! ❞
❝ He never thinks, he laughs at everything and everyone and says whatever comes into his head. He is a handsome fool ❞
❝ You are as unfit a mother as you are a ruler. ❞
❝ By what right do you presume to give me terms!? ❞
❝ You would be wise not to take me lightly, and wiser still not to make of me a foe. ❞
❝ Are you threatening me? ❞
❝ They are both able men . . . and loyal ❞
❝ Name either one and make him yours. ❞
❝ That is my counsel, take it or no. ❞
❝ My brother is dead. I am going to take him home. ❞
❝ Tighter. Cinch it tighter, you simpering little fool. ❞
❝ He will be safe, I promise you. ❞
❝ He will not kill the same way twice. He is too cunning for that. ❞
❝ He could be under the floor even now, listening to every word we say. ❞
❝ I will not have him alone with her, not for so much a s half a heartbeat. ❞
❝ Husband and wife should sleep together. Even if they do no more than sleep. ❞
❝ Let them warm each other in the night. It will bring them closer. ❞
❝ A man should not sleep apart from his wife on the night of their wedding. ❞
❝ I cannot bear to look at it. ❞
❝ Wildfire is treacherous. ❞
❝ It will be a lesson to our enemies. ❞
❝ Now you sound like him. ❞
❝ Guard your tongue. ❞
❝ How could I ever have loved that wretched creature? ❞
❝ He has become a stranger to me. ❞
❝ This is wrong. It is too soon. ❞
❝ You forced me into this travesty of a wedding, and I shall not soon forget it. ❞
❝ It was the cloak my lord father used when he wed my lady mother. ❞
❝ Insolence has its price. ❞
❝ When a dog goes bad, the fault lies with its master. ❞
❝ I do not believe she is a maid. ❞
❝ Once a man puts on that cloak, it changes him. ❞
❝ It certainly changed you, and not for the better. ❞
❝ His crown was all you ever wanted. ❞
❝ She is pretty enough. ❞
❝ Only a fool would ever claim she was more beautiful than I. ❞
❝ I cannot let them see me cry. ❞
❝ A woman may weep, but not a queen. ❞
❝ If this is true, why tell me? ❞
❝ Why would you betray her? ❞
❝ No one who wears a crown is ever safe. ❞
❝ Do not presume to smile at me, you treacherous little bitch. ❞
❝ You will be begging me for mercy before I’m done with you. ❞
❝ All the wine in the world would not be enough to see me through this wedding. ❞
❝ It is my day now. It is my castle and my kingdom. ❞
❝ The flames are so pretty. I want to watch them for a while. ❞
❝ You should not stay alone. ❞
❝ Off your knees. Show me what you’ve brought me. ❞
❝ She said that a forgotten prophecy couldn’t come true. ❞
❝ Have you attended to that little task I set you? ❞
❝ A tiresome creature, this prince. ❞
❝ Their leaders preach of doom and demon worship. ❞
❝ The Red Wedding was an affront to all the laws of gods and men, and those who had a hand in it are damned. ❞
❝ He shares his father’s taste for treason, too. ❞
❝ She fancies him. She likes his scars, I think. ❞
❝ Scars make a man look dangerous, and danger is exciting. ❞
❝ I did not come a maid to his bed. ❞
❝ Who was this lover who was so . . . full of danger? ❞
❝ Men have scars, women mysteries. ❞
❝ I will have his name out of you soon enough. ❞
❝ Come sit with me by the window. Will you take a cup of wine? ❞
❝ You have a bold tongue. You will make me forget myself again. ❞
❝ You are a wicked man, and no true knight, I think. ❞
❝ I want you. ❞
❝ You’ve had me. ❞
❝ You did me a valiant service, and you had your reward. ❞
❝ Do you think our little queen is pretty? ❞
❝ Lying with a queen is treason. ❞
❝ I’ve killed more boys than I can count. ❞
❝ A queen must have a consort. One who knows no fear. ❞
❝ I am your man. ❞
❝ Will you dream of me tonight? ❞
❝ And when you’re abed with her, in her, will you dream of me then? ❞
❝ I was made for this. ❞
❝ She has a secret admirer, a knight so smitten with her beauty that he cannot sleep at night. ❞
❝ I’m the king. The throne belongs to me. ❞
❝ I have grave matters to decide. ❞
❝ Matters that you are far too young to understand. ❞
❝ I suppose she thinks you ought to be at my council meetings too? ❞
❝ When you are older, you can attend as many councils as you wish. ❞
❝ I promise you, you will soon grow sick of them. ❞
❝ I waited, so can he. ❞
❝ I waited half my life. ❞
❝ If she thinks to cheat me of my hour in the sun, she had bloody well think again. ❞
❝ No mother should outlive her children. ❞
❝ No captain should outlive his ship. ❞
❝ His sigil ought to be a fat man sitting on his arse. ❞
❝ An irritating name for an irritating man. ❞
❝ The number seven is sacred to our gods. ❞
❝ It pleases you to make a jest, I see. ❞
❝ When I make a jest I smile. Do you see me smiling? ❞
❝ I assure you, when I make a jest, men laugh. ❞
❝ How is your little brother faring? ❞
❝ I am running short of patience with him. ❞
❝ It’s past time he broke in that little filly. ❞
❝ Would she prefer someone else? ❞
❝ She’s always touching him when they talk. ❞
❝ It’s me he’s eager for, fool. ❞
❝ All he wants of her is the lordship between her legs. ❞
❝ I hope his sword is quicker than his wits. ❞
❝ It is not like me to forget myself. ❞
❝ Walk with me. I need a word with you. ❞
❝ He calls her that to irk me. ❞
❝ Bruises and bloody lips are all part of being a knight. ❞
❝ We keep no slaves in Westeros. ❞
❝ A bastard in the belly would explain that. ❞
❝ She and I would play together when the two of us were small. ❞
❝ The poor girl is quite . . . exhausted. ❞
❝ Are you drunk, or merely stupid? ❞
❝ It is all because I am a woman. ❞
❝ He still wants me. ❞
❝ Pining for what you’ve lost? ❞
❝ You’re a fool. A beautiful golden fool. ❞
❝ Pray all you like, she will be dead before the moon turns. ❞
❝ What is a queen’s honor against a mother’s fears? ❞
❝ My enemies are everywhere and my friends are fools. ❞
❝ He was more than a man. His blood was the blood of Old Valyria, the blood of dragons and gods. ❞
❝ He has been wounded, but I will mend his hurt when we are wed. ❞
❝ A man does not marry his heir to his servant’s daughter. ❞
❝ Have you ever seen a lion weep? ❞
❝ He will find another man for you, a better man. ❞
❝ Do you think she is still a maiden? ❞
❝ He is your only child, is he not? ❞
❝ My husband has asked the gods to bless us with another son. ❞
❝ It is good of you to care. I know you love me well. ❞
❝ If I had known I was going to have to walk, I would have dressed for it. ❞
❝ We ask no vengeance for our dead, only protection for the living. ❞
❝ A king who does not protect his people is no king at all. ❞
❝ Why are all men such children? ❞
❝ These false kings espouse false gods. ❞
❝ We have been picking autumn flowers in the wood. ❞
❝ Such a restless girl, our little queen. ❞
❝ Every day in every way she tries to steal him from me. ❞
❝ I have no time for riding through the woods and picking flowers. I have a kingdom to rule. ❞
❝ I know what a burden you bear. You should let me share the load. ❞
❝ There must be some things I could do to help you. ❞
❝ It would put to rest all this talk that you and I are rivals for the king. ❞
❝ Is that what they say? ❞
❝ How foolish. I have never looked upon you as a rival, not even for a moment. ❞
❝ Beauty can sometimes mask deadly danger. ❞
#rp memes#rp prompts#roleplay prompts#roleplay memes#inbox memes#rp prompt#[memes ; mine]#[memes ; literature]#[memes ; for muse]#[memes ; general]#[memes ; sentence]
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In The Walls
Pairing: Incubus! Michael X plus size fem! reader
Tw: Sleep deprivation, impregnation, slight dub-con
Words counter: 965
No mentions of y/n
Summary: You've just moved into a new house, not knowing anything about it or the history behind it. Lately you've been diagnosed with sleep deprivation which has knocked your mood down. You're currently in bed asleep, but the air doesn't feel right. Growls and wet sounds entered the room waking you up to find a heavy creature sitting on your chest, feeling of being unable to move. Something long and slick darted between your legs.
Mature Audiences only⚠️ Smut • Oral!f • dirty talk • Spit kink • biting kink • tentacles • choking •
Moving into the new house and living independently is all you've always wanted, you were ever so tired and drained from living in such a toxic environment where arguments between your parents happened on a daily basis. Every time they got back from work they would start on eachother which made you get up and leave the house to head to a local library or a cafe. You loved your parents dearly, but this isn't the way to deal with martial problems. The reason this whole thing started was because someone made up a lie about your dad cheating and got this random woman pregnant which didn't happen, that's what caused arguments and eventually the marriage to break.
It's 8:30 and you're currently lying in bed, eyes on the ceiling wondering what life would be like if things were different. That's what you always did before closing your eyes for the night, contemplating things and trying to think better and more positive, wanting to finish the day on a bright note instead of going to bed like your parents did every time they had an argument. Which would drag into the next morning, even when they were driving you off to school.
As your eyes started to feel heavy you turned off your light, pulled the covers over your body and drifted off to sleep with a small smile on your face. As time went on the air felt thick and different but put the weird thought at the back of your mind and locked it up in a box. Breathing in and out your body was relaxed again. An hour later you had woken up due to a heavy feeling on your chest, frozen still you couldn't believe what was happening. A creature was sitting on you, his red eyes looking at your fearful blue ones, long wet tongue running over his sharp teeth making you whine.
"You can't fool me little one, I know you want it, the way heat and arousal is boiling between your legs" he said in a deep voice. Still not being able to move away, he slides down between your thighs, spreads them open and extends his tongue out saliva starts dripping out the corner of his mouth "Fuckk, so pretty and already wet for me" as his tongue slides in, your eyes rolls back "feel good pretty girl, huh? I bet you really want to grab my hair forcing yourself onto my mouth?" You couldn't do anything but whimper back.
Crawling back onto you he grabs your face and tells you "open that pretty mouth of yours" as you did his saliva and your juices went into your mouth, making your eyes dilate wanting more. He knew he was teasing you, but loved how unable you were to wriggle away from him and loved the power he had over you. As he went back down between your legs lapping up your sweet juices, the sexual energy that was in the air was making him more powerful. He wanted to be inside you and needed you carnally so he got up from the floor and unzipped his boiler suit releasing five tentacles. Four wrapping around your wrist and ankles not wanting you to fall off, when he rams into you. The another slowly going down your throat making your eyes water and spittle dripping out your mouth.
"You're so deranged getting off on this, I'm a feared creature that prowls into people's minds at night" something was touching your thigh and it felt hard "be good for me and take it, as i can see you're very distracted with that slitering, tentacle in your mouth" as his strong hands grabbed your hips he slammed his cock into you making you whine "what was that? Go faster you say?" As he slammed faster into you a strangled moan left your throat.
"You're so fucking disgusting, look at yourself having 4 of my tentacles pinning you down, while I fuck you like a bloodhound in heat, dont act like you've never wanted this, that filthy head of yours isnt closed off to other realms you know" the tentacle that was in your throat is long gone, now between your breasts leaving marks making you clench around his cock.
"A masochist? someone likes pain" a dark manical chuckle leaves his throat. Heat rises up your cheeks, looking away he grabs your face aggressively "no, dont you dare look away from me, look at me when i fuck you princess" clenching around his cock but tightly this time, his head falls back "fuck you're gonna make me come so fucking hard, if you keep doing that" you couldn't help but look at his sharp teeth wondering what they'll feel like on your neck or in it.
Michael lowers his face near your hair, inhaling your scent. He moves your hair to the side reveling such a pretty neck. His lips gently on your soft spot, nibbling lightly leaving small traces of bruises. He was close and you knew it "I'm so close, if I bite you wherever you want, please come on my cock, like the little dumb lamb that you're" a whine left your throat. Grabbing your neck pulling you towards him, he sunk his teeth into you making your eyes roll back clenching around him "fuck atta girl, keep clenching around me my pretty slut" fucking faster into you, your nails attack his back making his cock twitch "come for me please, I need to feel you come all over this cock" as you came all over his pulsating cock, he quickly slid both hands on your lower stomach and shot his seed into you "yes take it all" making your body convulse you came on his cock again.
@toxicanonymity @toxicrecs 💗
#michael audrey myers#Incubus! Michael Myers x plus size! Fem reader#michael myers halloween#michael myers smut#michael myers x reader#michael myers x you#michael myers fanfic#slashers#halloween 1978#slasher fandom#slasher movies#slasher community#slasher fanfiction#slasher fucker#slasher x reader#slasher smut#monster x human#monster fucker#monster smut#monster boy#tentacles#megangovier22
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5 times Wrecker protected his siblings and 5 times they protected him: Chapter 9
As cadets, Hunter comforts Wrecker after a nightmare.
--
Content warning: Nightmares, Child Abuse
I wrote this ages ago, right when I started this collection of fics, but just... forgot to post it? I may be stupid.
It's pretty short, but hope you still enjoy it :)
Read on Ao3
Hunter can't sleep. No matter which way he lays, how often he forces himself to stay still and close his eyes, how hard he tries to clear his thoughts, he just can't sleep. As annoying as it is, issues with falling asleep are a frequent problem Hunter faces.
Tipoca City is never quiet, not even at night. The hum of electricity is constant and someone is always still awake, working in one of the labs or in a landing bay. Then there's the storms, pelting the domed roof of their barracks with rain, thunder crashing outside, lightning illuminating the dark room with a bright flash ever so often.
The only good thing about Hunters enhanced senses at night is that he can hear his vode breathing, their heartbeats too if he really focuses. Hunter would know immediately if something was wrong, if one of them wasn't there. Some nights, Hunter can tune out all other sensations just by concentrating on the presence of his brothers. That doesn't seem to work today.
Training was too much, too long. Hunter was tasked with picking apart different electromagnetic frequencies, pinpointing their locations, all whilst different noises and sensations were used to try and hinder his progress. He's still got a splitting headache now, hours later.
Thunder rumbles across the clouded sky, Hunter presses his hands to his face with a groan. At this rate, he'll get one or two hours of sleep in at best.
With all the sensations assaulting Hunters senses, it takes him far too long to realize something is up with one of his brothers. Wrecker's breathing in short gasps, his heart is beating fast, panicked. A nightmare.
Another thing Hunter isn't unfamiliar with, nor is any clone for that matter, nightmares being near universal. Carefully, Hunter gets up. The floor is cold under his feet as he takes one quiet step after the other, not wanting to wake his sleeping vode.
He wants to check on Wrecker. It is just a nightmare, nothing real or of actual risk to his brother, Hunter knows that. He still wants to check.
Hunter comes to a stop in front of Wreckers bunk. He's curled up on his side, expression pinched, shaking ever so slightly. This close, Hunter can smell his fear and the sweat dampening his skin. How had it took Hunter this long to notice his brothers distress?
Out of the four of them, Wrecker's always had it worst when it comes to nightmares. He has them the most, wakes up screaming. It's why they made Lula for him. She's helped, but doesn't seem to be enough today, even if Wrecker has her pressed tightly to his chest.
For a moment, Hunter stands with his hand extended, hovering a little way above Wreckers shoulder. Hunter wants to wake Wrecker, would want to be woken if he was having a nightmare himself. But startling Wrecker is the last thing he wants to do. He tries to think of the best way to go about doing so.
All consideration is discarded when Wrecker whimpers and twitches in his sleep, and Hunter shakes his shoulder. Wrecker gasps, eyes flinging open. He tries to get away from Hunter, slamming into the wall behind him with a dull thud, fear and confusion on his face. This is exactly what Hunter had wanted to avoid.
Despite being younger than Hunter, Wrecker is already almost a head taller than him. Pressed up against the wall as he is, knees drawn to his chest, he looks small.
“Wrecker?” Hunter keeps his voice quiet. There's recognition in Wreckers eyes now, layered on top of the fear.
“Sorry I woke you...” He sounds on the verge of tears, looks it too.
“You didn't.” Hunter lingers another moment, not sure what to say. Wrecker buries his face in his tooka doll and whilst he can't see it, Hunter's sure the tears that threatened to spill before do just that now. Hunter, with his enhanced senses, can pick up on Wreckers barely audible sniffles and suppressed sobs, but Tech and Crosshair probably couldn't. Wrecker's the loudest clone, possibly the loudest person Hunter knows, though some of the supervisors during training are very good at being loud as well. But when he's crying, Wrecker can be very quiet.
Not knowing what else to do, Hunter sits next to Wrecker, putting a hand on his shoulder. It does something, because Wrecker immediately pulls him into a hug. His tears soak into Hunters shirt. Hunter returns the hug carefully, remembering the bruises Wrecker had return from his own training with.
Wrecker didn't really tell them what happened when he came back looking downcast, only saying that he dropped something. When he then spent ages wincing every two minutes it still took all three of them pestering him about it for him to let them see the damage. By the looks of it, what ever he'd dropped had landed on him. But bruises are normal part of training. Hunter had had the feeling something else was upsetting their vod. After dinner, Wrecker had seemed fine, so Hunter left it.
As Wrecker continues to cry into Hunters shoulder, he gets a feeling his little brother is still being affected by what had upset him earlier.
“Kih'vod?” Hunter doesn't want to stop Wrecker hugging him, but he does try and move so he can see his brothers face. “What's going on?”
Wrecker's trying to stop himself from crying now, wiping his face with the back of his hand. It takes him a while to answer. “You think they'll decommission me?” His words still sound almost like a sob.
“What? You won't get decommissioned for dropping something.” Surely they wouldn't, right?
“What if I don't get strong fast enough?” Wrecker says, pulling Hunter closer again. Hunter doesn't have the answer to that question.
“You will.” He says instead, hoping it will reassure Wrecker. “I know you will.”
Wrecker nods. He doesn't ask again, but does hold onto Hunter for a long while. Even after he's stopped crying, he seems reluctant to let go. Wrecker is warm and his hold on Hunter is comfortable, easier to focus on compared to the overwhelming sensations outside of this close proximity.
When Wrecker does move away from Hunter, he doesn't look happy to do so. “I shouldn't keep you from sleeping.” He mumbles, playing with Lula's ear absent-mindedly.
“I can stay, if you'd like.” Wrecker lights up at that, pulling Hunter over to lay down next to him, placing Lula so Hunter could hold her too if he wished.
Hunter doesn't sleep great, still plagues by a headache and too much noise, but he sleeps more than he thought he would. More importantly, Wrecker isn't disturbed by any further nightmares, and Hunter likes to believe his presence helped with that. That way, there was at least a point to him not being able to sleep.
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