I just read a published book that was SO FUCKIGN BAD that even my worst writing is better than that. because at least I had some passion when I produced dry and unreadable fiction, this book just fucking took some of the best material it could have been handed and turned it into the dust under my bed: grey, boring and easily overlooked

Complicated Part 18: Chocolate Shoppe

Series: Complicated

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Liam x Riley, Drake x Riley

Rating: M, NSFW

Warnings: Language, sexual situations

My other stuff: Master List.

Riley looked at Olivia over Hana’s shoulder as she pulled out her phone, “It’s ok, Hana, we’re going to enjoy this lovely surprise with you, right Liv?”

“Uh…sure.” Olivia glanced hesitantly around the room.

Riley sent a quick text to Max with a pin in their location.

She was flustered twenty minutes later when Max walked in with Drake in tow. She hadn’t seen or spoken to him since her talk with Liam. She didn’t know what to say to him. After her afternoon with Liam, things felt more settled. There was no way she was letting Liam go, he had made promises to her, and she wanted to let him make good on them. That didn’t seem to leave much room for anyone else in her life.

Then Drake walked through the door of the chocolate shop and she was galvanized. The rush of fire that swept over her at the mere sight of him left her breathless. She forced a smile and made small talk. She focused on cheering Hana up. But eventually she found herself across a table from Drake while the others were at the fountain discussing the merits of different items that could be coated in chocolate.

He gave her a steady look and asked, “You avoiding me Campbell?”

“No, maybe, why?”

He shrugged, “You’ve barely looked at me since I got here.”

She sighed, “I…I don’t really know what to say.”

“About?”

She dropped her eyes to the floor, “Everything. Anything. Us.”

“So I take it you talked to Liam?”

“Yeah. And so did you, apparently?”

“Yep.”

“So, should we, maybe, talk about that?”

“Maybe.” He replied.

Riley glanced over at their friends, “Maybe not here though, huh?”

“Heh. Maybe not.”

“Walk me home after this?”

“Sure, Campbell.”

“Riley, watch out! Incoming!!”

A piece of short cake thunked into her head. Her eyes widened and she whirled to face the others, “Oh, this means war!” She launched a strawberry into the air.

The shop quickly devolved into a battleground, the friends laughing and screaming as food flew everywhere.

Riley dodged a volley of pretzels and slide behind a table that had been overturned. She found herself looking up at Drake. She was breathing heavy, and her face was flushed with laughter. She had chocolate smeared on the corner of her lips. Drake’s eyes dipped down to her mouth as he reached over to wipe it away with his thumb. His eyes lifted back up to hers and the moment seemed to draw out as they got lost in each other.

“Got you!” Maxwell screamed as he rolled behind the table, came up on his knees and pelted them both with assorted fruit.

“That’s it, you die!” Drake cried as he lunged after Maxwell.

Thirty minutes later, the friends stood together in the center of the room, panting for breath and surveying the damage.

“Shit. We should clean this up.” Riley said.

“Yeah, I don’t think my deposit covered this.” Hana replied.

They spent the next half hour cleaning, until the shop looked reasonably like they had found it. Riley slumped into a chair with a glass of water. Hana and Olivia were still in the bathroom washing up. Max was finishing the sweeping. She glanced up and caught Drake’s eyes on her from across the room. His heated gaze caused things low in her body to tighten.

She dipped a strawberry in the fondue and brought it to her mouth. She rubbed it along her lips as she gave him a sultry look. Her tongue slipped out of her mouth to run around the circumference of the chocolate covered fruit, then she sucked it into her mouth. Her fingers twirled the top of it as she sucked on it, then she pulled it back out of her mouth to show it to him, red, glistening and completely devoid of chocolate.

He swallowed audibly. He reached down and adjusted himself through his jeans and he didn’t even care who noticed. Jesus. Was she trying to kill him?

When the cleanup was over, Olivia and Hana climbed into the limo.

“It’s a nice night, I’m going to walk back.” Riley informed them.

Maxwell looked at her in alarm, “You sure that’s safe?”

“Divide and conquer, Max?” Drake asked, “You make sure Liv and Hana get back to the train safely and I’ll walk back with Riley.”

Maxwell glanced back and forth between Riley and Drake uncertainly, “I mean, I could walk back with her…”

Drake crossed his arms and fixed Maxwell with a level stare, “Sure. First just tell me step one of disarming a mugger.”

“Yeah, ok, I’ll escort the ladies in the limo, see you back at the train.” He grabbed Riley into a hug and whispered, “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

She hugged him back and whispered, “Yeah, I got this, it’s ok.”

Maxwell clapped Drake on the shoulder on his way past him, “Just don’t do anything to create another scandal, yeah?”

Drake arched an eyebrow.

“Ok, right.” Maxwell waved one last time as he entered the limo.

As the limo disappeared, Drake turned to Riley, “Shall we walk?”

“Yeah.” She slipped her hand into his.

He glanced down at their entwined hands. He blew out a breath and said, “So…”

“So….”

“What are we doing here, Campbell?” He asked pulling their hands up.

“Walking home.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I know.” She sighed, “So, you talked to Liam. He basically gave you permission to…ah…explore things, I guess.”

“Yeah. Sort of.”

“So, does that change anything for you?”

He stopped walking and turned to face her, “Do you want it to?”

She looked down shyly then glanced back up at him from under her lashes, “Maybe.”

His head fell back so he was looking up at the moon, “Fuck.”

“I mean, if you don’t want to… if you’re not interested….I mean…it’s ok……..I didn’t-“

She was cut off as his arms went around her waist and he jerked her to him, his lips crashing down into hers. He pulled her closer, tighter, as he deepened the kiss. She relaxed into it, into him. Her arms went around him, one hand tugging at his hair as the other ran across the muscles of his back. He grunted then took several steps forward, pushing her up against a brick wall.

His hands were suddenly everywhere. Sliding through her hair. Caressing her jaw. Gliding down the side of her body, squeezing a breast, digging into her ass, ghosting up her thigh. His mouth was likewise everywhere, on her lips, on her jaw, nipping at her earlobe, licking her neck, on her breast, his breath hot and exhilarating through the fabric of her dress.

Her head fell back against the wall as a low moan escaped her, she ground herself against him and felt things low in her body coil and tighten as he growled in response. He slid a hand under her dress and his fingers rubbed against her panties, sending shockwaves of pleasure and desire through her.

Her hand grasped him through his jeans and his body jerked forward, “Shit!” He pulled back, panting, “We…we need to stop…anyone could see….”

“Let’s go back to the train, to my room-“

His forehead was pressed to hers, his hands grasping her arms, breathing still ragged as he shook his head, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea…”

“Why not?”

“You know why not!” He glanced around the deserted street then pulled her into a dark alcove.

“What are we doing?” She asked as he gently pushed her up against the wall.

“Shhhh,” He whispered, “Be quiet, don’t draw attention to us. Can you do that?”

She nodded.

He leaned in toward her and brought his mouth to her ear, his warm breath sending shivers through her as he whispered, “Can I touch you? Here?” His hand slid up her thigh and ghosted across the thin, wet fabric of her panties.

Her hands tangled in his hair as she breathed out, “Yes, please.”

He shielded her from view with his body then slid one leg between hers and pushed them further apart. His hands tugged at the bottom of her dress, gliding it higher up her body. He moved her panties to the side as his fingers slid into her. She made a strangled noise as her head once again fell back into the wall. His fingers pumped in and out of her, the delicious intrusion sending jolts of electricity sparking through her, his gaze smoldering as he studied her face. His thumb found her sweet spot and stroked small, tight circles around and over it. His fingers danced and twirled at her core, his eyes locked on her, reading her signals as he worked her higher and higher towards her peak, his breathing almost as ragged as hers.

“Oh. My. God!” She whimpered, trying to be quiet. She brought her head down and sank her teeth into his chest as the orgasm exploded over her, sending her body pitching forward. He held her up as the aftershocks coursed through her.

After she caught her breath, she looked up at him. Something about the way he was watching her sent butterflies swirling through her stomach and heat plunging through her center again.

“Your turn.” She breathed as she fumbled with the button on his pants.

“No,” he shook his head, “you don’t have to-“

He gasped as her hand reached inside his boxer briefs to grasp him firmly. His entire body jerked involuntarily toward her. She kept her eyes on his face as she moved her hand over him. He returned her gaze as he placed his hand over hers and guided her hand up and down.

If you had asked him, he would have said that there was no way he could get off just from a hand job at this point in his life. He wasn’t a teenager after all. He needed a bit more. But months of wanting her, months of fantasizing about her had taken their toll. Touching her, feeling her body react to him, the sensation of her teeth biting him as she tried to muffle her cries of bliss already had him rock hard and teetering on the edge.

Her hand on him as he gazed into her face was all it took to send him crashing over the edge, the orgasm pulsed through him as he exploded into her hand.

“Fuck! Riley! God! I fucking love you!” What the hell Walker? Since when do you blurt out confessions of love during an orgasm? Literally never. Until now apparently. And it wasn’t even sex, sex. Shit.

He leaned his forehead against hers and whispered, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

She ran a hand along his jaw and smiled up at him, “Don’t be sorry. I love you too.”

He stopped breathing for a moment, “What?”

“You heard me.”

“But Liam-“

She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head away from him. Did he really have to bring up Liam right then?

“I’m sorry.” He said as he pulled away from her and removed his button up shirt, then pulled his t-shirt over his head.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“We need something to clean up with.” He said as he handed her the t-shirt and put the button up back on.

“Such a gentleman.” She teased.

He snorted, “I don’t think a gentleman would have done what we just did up against a wall out on a public street.”

“Maybe not, but I’m not complaining.” She smirked at him.

They did their best to clean up themselves up then he apologized again, “Listen, I’m sorry for bringing up Liam. This is clearly not the time and I’m a dumbass.”

“No, it’s ok. You have every right to want to know what’s going on between me and Liam, after what just happened.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I mean, just because we just did…that, doesn’t mean you owe me anything.”

“I feel like it does. But listen, I wanted to tell you-“She stopped talking and turned her head.

Drake’s head swiveled around looking for whatever had caught her attention, “What is it?”

“You didn’t hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“It sounded like-“

“A puppy whining?” He heard it that time.

They emerged from their darkened alcove and followed the sound. It was coming from an alleyway next to the building.

“You stay here, I’ll go look.”

“But-“

“But nothing. I’m not letting you go into a dark alleyway.” He said and then he was gone.

Riley paced nervously next to the corner of the building until he reappeared with an armful of wriggling puppy. It was at least part corgi, gold and white spots and it was incredibly excited to have some attention.

“Oh my gosh! Look at him! Or her?”

Drake flipped it around quickly and said, “Him.”

“He’s so cute!” She cooed as the dog almost spilled out of Drake’s arms to trying to lick her face.

“I think he’s hurt; he was limping a little.” Drake informed her. He handed her the dog as he pulled out his phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Finding an all-night vet clinic.”

“Oh, smart! But won’t the train be leaving soon?”

“Don’t worry about the train, it won’t leave without us.”

“How can you be sure of that?”

“Trust me, I have my ways. Ok, there’s one about three blocks that way.” He pointed.

“Did we just adopt a dog?” She asked as they turned and started walking.

“I guess we did.” He shook his head. Blurting out I love you during sex, adopting stray puppies, what is happening to me?

“Here, I can carry him.” He offered as he reached out and plucked the corgi out of her arms. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as they walked. He knew what was happening to him, it had already happened. He was head over heels, hopelessly and irrevocably in love.

In Dreams I See You, In Reality You Haunt Me

Today is a good day

For angst

Aka

I want angst and I haven’t been fed in daaaaays.

So... have this.

TW: Sleep Deprivation, Near Death Experiences, Implied Death Experience, and Suicidal Themes (at least in other people's POV)

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28886223/chapters/82150489

When he’d asked his grandson to meet him in the ruins of New L’Manburg, he was unprepared for the person he would meet. He stood on top of the glass, eyes cast low to the crater of a country that once was. Red vines had crept along the crevices, consuming the land that they had tried so desperately to get rid of. He’d heard of the red egg, a being that was spreading throughout the land. Though Phil couldn’t find it in himself to care, so long as it left those he loved alone, then he’d let it thrive and consume the Essempy. He was so busy contemplating that he barely even noticed the hurried footsteps of his grandson until Fundy practically ran into him.

Phil flinched away, messy ginger hair and dark circles beneath the eyes reminded him of the last time he’d seen his son. He held Fundy at arms length, the tired fox hybrid blinking profusely like he wasn’t sure there was a person right in front of him. His hair was a tangle of uncombed hair, grayed at the edges with… soot and gunpowder. Fundy eyes were dull, devoid of any life, the dark circles beneath them only seemed to pop out against too pale skin. His clothes were a mess, his usual white shirt covered in dust and black with ash. He was shivering despite the warm sun that reflected off the glass, his black jacket didn’t seem to be able to keep him warm. Phil shrugged off his green cloak, it wasn’t made to keep anyone warm, but if it helped Fundy. He tied it around his grandson’s shoulders, but Fundy didn’t seem to acknowledge him at all. Phil sucked in a breath, smelling cinder and destruction. His grandson looked just like Wilbur now…

“When’s… the last time you slept and took a bath, mate?” Phil chuckled nervously, reluctant to let go of Fundy in case he decided to faint. Fundy jolted at his voice, blinking away his exhaustion, a weary yet confused smile appearing on the fox hybrid’s face. “You look like shit.”

“Huh? Uh no, no sleep. Bath… I… Why am I here? Oh, you wanted to talk to me…” With every word, Phil found himself slowly frowning. Fundy giggled, shaking his head as though to remember why he was there. “I was… I was blowing up my house. I, uh, a demon lives there, ya know? It’s in my dreams, in my house. Wilbur came by one time too, the demon was gone then.”

“Wilbur visited you?” His heart ached, his son really was alive…

“Uh huh, he was… he was standing there… all Wilbur-like.” Fundy let out a yawn, eyes fluttering close for a moment before he flinched, reaching up a hand to slap himself awake. Phil’s eyes widened. Was Fundy… intentionally refusing to sleep? He kept a gentle grip on Fundy’s arm, reaching down to untie the lead that kept Friend from wandering off too far. He didn’t doubt Fundy’s claim that he’d blown up his house, but that meant Fundy didn’t have a place to stay, and he wasn’t about to let his grandson wander off on his own. “Why am I here, Phil? What d—”

“Nothing you have to worry about, mate.” He would want to ask Fundy where Wilbur had gone off to, but he wouldn’t want to upset his grandson. He knew how… Fundy felt about Wilbur. He needed Fundy calm and relaxed, enough to push him into falling asleep. With the lead in one hand and his grandson’s arm in the other, he slowly led his grandson and Friend in the direction of the nether portal. “You’ll need a place to stay… I have a spare bed that you can sleep in—”

“NO!” He nearly fell to the ground in Fundy’s haste to get away from him, the fox hybrid pulling against Phil’s hold. Phil pitied his poor grandson… he wasn’t holding Fundy that strongly but he couldn’t seem to get out of Phil’s hold. “I don’t want to sleep! The demon is waiting to kill me!”

“Fundy, mate, there is no demon. There are no demons, they’re just nightmares, mate. You’re fine! They can’t get you in the dreams.” Fundy had started to cry now, shaking his head so fast that Phil was surprised he wasn’t getting sick. Friend let out a soft baa beside them, nudging Fundy’s leg as it to calm him. “I cannot, as your guardian, let you live while you’re in this state.”

“You don’t understand, I can’t go back in there. I-I can’t go back to that desert wasteland. I can’t, Phil! I can’t!” It was sad to watch, and Phil knew he’d have no choice but to take Fundy back. His grandson could get in a lot of trouble if Phil were to leave him alone. “Grandpa, please!”

“Fundy, you need to sleep. You’re wasting away like this.”

“I don’t need sleep! Wilbur even told me… he told me that if I wanted to keep the demon away that I… that I didn’t need sleep! I’m fine. ‘m fine!” After a few more seconds of struggling, Fundy slumped over, eyelids fluttering close. Phil adjusted his hold, praying for his back before pulling Fundy up into his arms. It wouldn’t be a proper sleep, fainting was different from sleeping, but they’d have to settle on this for now. He glanced over at Friend, the blue sheep giving Phil a baa before walking forward. At least Friend wasn’t trying to make a break for it while Phil was distracted, the poor sheep probably did want to search for Ghostbur… oh, right.

“I’m so sorry, mate.” Friend didn’t look at him, but Phil was sure that the sheep understood why.

He shook his head, he’d have to make sure Fundy got a better sleep schedule once they got home. With his grandson in his arms, and Friend in front of him, Phil started to head back home.

Surely Techno wouldn’t mind seeing his nephew again.

---

Techno wiped the sweat off his forehead, his breath coming out in cold puffs of smoke. He leaned against one of the spruce trees, taking a moment to breathe in the air of the arctic, the chill wind blowing through his pink hair. The hair tie must have come loose at some point during his training, he’d have to find it in the snow later on. He sniffed, the icy wind smelt of an incoming blizzard. He’d have to bring Carl inside the stables and collect Steve who’d gone out to go fishing in the nearby ice lake. His gaze turned towards the cabin, smoke coming out from the open window. He could only hope that Phil was cooking and that Fundy hadn’t caused a fire. He wouldn’t blame the poor kid, but it certainly would be exhausting to rebuild the house again.

Speaking of his nephew, Techno’s ear flicked up at the sound of a door creaking open. A familiar fox hybrid sneaked out the door, glancing around before pausing to look in the distance. He followed Fundy’s gaze, unsure if his delirious nephew was looking at Steve or at the ice lake.

He sheathed his sword, heading back towards the cabin. Fundy was very unstable, no matter how hard Phil had tried, Fundy refused to sleep. Techno would have to herd or drag him back inside.

Techno paused at the bottom of the steps, careful to avoid Fundy’s gaze, an easy feat to accomplish for he was too occupied to even notice Techno’s presence. He moved up the stairs, feet gently thumping against the wood, but the noise was enough to cause Fundy to bolt.

He glanced over at Techno, dull brown eyes blown completely wide before Fundy jumped off the side of the patio. Techno rushed forward, but Fundy had jumped down into the small pond. His tail was raised and bristled, his teeth bared at Techno while he let out a low growl. He made a move to jump down, preparing himself for the shock of jumping into ice cold water. Luckily, the water only reached up to his knees. Fundy screamed as he jumped down, running further away.

His heart seemed to freeze in his chest. Fundy was headed towards the ice lake. He raced after him, unclasping his blue cape along the way as it was only extra weight. Fundy was quicker, pouncing past fallen tree logs and rocks. He was determined, Techno gave him that. If only his nephew could put that energy into a hobby that didn’t involve jumping into freezing ice lakes.

“Fundy! Fundy!” Techno chased him down, “Fundy, you don’t know how to swim!”

He didn’t get a response, but Techno expected that. Fundy had reached the edge of the river by this point, pausing to glance back at Techno. “Fundy, get away from the edge. Now. Or else.”

His nephew was shivering. Frost had already formed on his dripping wet clothes.

“Mama.” Techno’s nose scrunched up. He hoped his nephew wasn’t hallucinating him for Wilbur’s wife, whose name he’d never been told for Wilbur was adamant to keep her a secret. Fundy scooted closer to the lake, shaking his head the moment Techno took a few steps forward. The fox hybrid had wrapped his arms around himself, his body aware that he was freezing even if his mind was muddled with sleep deprivation. Techno would have to research more on the topic. Fundy pointed at the lake, tears flowing past his cold cheeks despite his smile. “Mama!”

Fundy tried to jump.

Techno rushed forward, taking Fundy by the arms before setting him on his shoulder.

“Mama!” Fundy squirmed in his grasp, reaching back for the ice lake. Techno huffed, lugging his confused nephew back to the cabin, trying desperately to tune out Fundy’s cries. It hurt to hear.

It did hurt to hear, more than he cared to admit. He headed back to the cabin, waiting for Fundy to tire himself out. It was the only sleep he ever got nowadays, if fainting counted as sleep. He glanced back towards the river, unsure of why Fundy had insisted that his mother was in the lake. Phil hadn’t mentioned hallucinations, but Techno knew the signs. He’d heard them all his life, the voices. Fundy had visions, not voices, or maybe he had both. Techno paused on the way, waiting for Fundy’s breath to lull down. He only continued to head back once he was sure Fundy had passed out. He’d have to find a way to get his nephew to sleep. He’d die if he stayed awake.

Now, if he saw his twin brother, he’ll have to ask why Fundy thought a lake was his mother.

---

“I’m not a fucking babysitter, Phil!” It was too late, his dad had flown off before Tommy could curse at him further. He scowled, turning back to his… nephew. Gods, that was so fucking weird.

“Hey, big man. You look shit, you know?” Fundy glanced up at him, the book he’d been reading (though if you’d ask Tommy he was sure that Fundy was just staring at the page) completely forgotten. He sighed, sitting across from Fundy for a moment. It was unsettling - fucking creepy, if you asked him - how Fundy hadn’t stopped staring at him, if anything, he wasn’t sure if Fundy had even blinked once since he’d started staring. “Hey… You know that’s… You okay, Fundy?”

“... Why are you a ghost?”

He felt a chill run down his spine. He traced the scars on his skin, dark forest green eyes flashing in his mind, the stench of decay and blood hitting him in full force. His throat had gone impossibly dry. No one had known of his death, at least, no one had tried to talk to him about it. Fundy wouldn’t… how would he know? “You know you can’t just ask me that kind of question.”

“... How did you die?”

“I did not—” Tommy slammed his hands on the table, the noise startling Fundy. The fox hybrid blinked, mouth agape as if he was only seeing him for the first time. Tommy took a deep breath, counting down from ten before sinking back in his seat. He didn’t remember Fundy being so rude, but then again, he didn’t remember ever seeing Fundy tired. He looked at the dark circles underneath his eyes, wincing at how familiar the look was. “I’m not dead, and I’m not a ghost.”

A clear look was in Fundy’s eyes as he looked at the scars that traced Tommy’s hands.

It disturbed him. Fundy looked aware for the first time since he’d gotten to Phil’s house.

“I can’t sleep.”

“What?” Tommy leaned back against his chair, tilting his head as a bitter smile crossed Fundy’s tired face. He’d known that Fundy was going through some shit, but he didn’t know about what.

“These past few weeks, everytime I close my eyes I could see him.” Fundy curled in on himself, his face buried in his hands. Tommy winced, afraid that Fundy might start sobbing and that he wouldn’t be able to do anything. “I’ve had these nightmares. I can’t sleep because I always wake up in the desert, alone. The van is always there, until it isn’t. Then there are books, and they tell me to wake up. I… I’ve been trying to stay awake but Phil and Techno say that’s not healthy.”

“... They’re right, Fundy, and you know I hate agreeing with Techno of all people.”

“I can’t sleep, Tommy. I won’t.” Tommy didn’t know how long it’s been since Fundy’s had a proper rest, but there’s a reason why Phil had brought him back with him. If Fundy looked like shit now, gods know what he’d looked like when Phil first found him. “He’s waiting for me.”

“Who…?” Tommy frowned.

“The demon.” Fundy paused, and shook his head. “No, not the demon. Wilbur.”

---

He’d escaped. Phil was busy in the mines and Techno had been on the cusp of hibernation. He’d had to run from Steve but he’d gotten away from the arctic and back to the Essempy. Fundy walked down Prime Path, a voice whispering into his ear. His dad was calling him, and Fundy really wanted to see him again. The one in the real world, the one in his nightmares terrified him.

He reached the top of the hill, casting his eyes to the right where the walls of L’Manburg were (once were? no, they were right there). His dad said he’d wait for him at the bench. Well, it was Tommy and Tubbo’s bench but his dad said to meet him there. He swayed at the top of the stairs, shaking his head as he turned to look towards the bench. His dad stood by the edge, the sun illuminating the blue of his uniform. He felt something wet run down his cheeks. He reached up, surprised to find that he was crying. Why was he crying when his dad was right in front of him?

“There you are, Fundy.”

“Hi, dad.”

He stood next to his dad, basking in the sun that was setting in the distance. The sky had turned a beautiful mix of orange, purple, and pink. He couldn’t remember the last time he and his dad had taken the time to watch the sunset. He felt an arm snake around his shoulders, keeping him in place. His dad moved forward a bit, Fundy hesitating to follow. His dad hadn’t turned around to face him yet. His tail stopped wagging, his ears pressed to the top of his head. Was his dad angry at him? Had he taken too long to get to his dad? He let out a small whine, but then an arm ruffled his hair. A smile found its way to his lips. Oh. His dad wasn’t mad at him. That’s good, great.

“How’s my little champion?”

“I missed you.” He hesitated, but reached up to hold his dad’s hand. It’s been years, but somehow his hand still looked so small against his dad’s. He laughed nervously, his hold gentle as if afraid that the vision would end. But it wasn’t a vision. “I missed this version of you, dad.”

“Hm… come with me then.”

His dad finally turned around, a kind smile on his face before he turned back to walk forward.

His breath stuttered in his throat, his dad’s hand suddenly slipping from his hold. His dad was walking away, right into the sunset. Fundy could feel his breath quicken, his head heavy with nausea. His dad was leaving him again. His dad was leaving again. But he said Fundy could go with him, didn’t he? He took a step forward to follow after his dad, climbing over the wooden fence that was in his path. He reached out a hand, calling out for his dad… then he was flying.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

He didn’t dare to loosen his grip.

Wilbur breathed through clenched teeth, grasping his son by the arm before willing himself to pull him up. Fundy had fainted, good. Wilbur didn’t want Fundy, his son, to struggle against him.

After a few agonizing seconds, he’d pulled Fundy away from the edge of the cliff.

He held Fundy in his arms, eyes tracing the dark circles beneath Fundy’s eyes. He’d been on a walk down the path when he’d seen his son climbing past the fence. Wilbur couldn’t believe it, but Fundy hadn’t stopped, eager to jump off the edge as quickly as he could. He had been lucky, he’d grabbed just as he fell. He cradled his son in his arms, pressing a kiss to Fundy’s forehead.

“Oh, my little champion…” Wilbur held Fundy closely, “Why would you do that to yourself?”

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

Clarification:

I know he's supposed to be at least out of it... but I wanted Fundy to talk to Tommy cause honestly, I want more of their dynamic. It's like a friendship that doesn't seem like it would hold up... but I think if there's two people on the Dream SMP who has suffered to much, it's Tommy and Fundy.

Questions 2009 -> 2021

This is from my Facebook. It popped up on my memories page thing. I originally answered this in 2009 when I was 15, it’s now 2021 & and I am 27, so I’m gonna do it again. Leaving the original answers. Original answers will be italicized. Commentary on the original answers in parentheses & crossed out? Lol. (I’m not gonna tag anyone, but, like, I guess if you want to answer these random questions from Facebook 12 years ago, go ahead lol) 

Questions

Can you fill this out without lying? You've been tagged, so now you need to answer all the questions HONESTLY. At the end, choose people to tag. Don't forget to tag me so I can see your answers! To do this, copy this entire message, then go to “notes” under tabs on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, delete my answers, and type yours. Easy! Next, tag people that you think may enjoy this (in the right hand corner of the app). Click publish (at the bottom). Have fun! :) 1.What was the last thing you put in your mouth? My cup with my Big Red in it The straw to my Kate Spade tumbler to drink my HEB Cola Lol.

2.Where was your profile picture taken? I got it off the internet. it's a random anime girl. My bedroom. 3.Can you play Guitar Hero? Never played it. Probably wouldn't be good at it. Not to good at video games. But I am good at Mario Cart, both 64 and the Wii. plus I'm good at some Sonic games. Still never played it. Idk if I’m any good at Mario Cart or the Sonic games anymore, I haven’t played either in years lol

4.Name someone who made you laugh today? Doctor Who TikTok. My cats.

5.How late did you stay up last night and why? Umm, probably about 10:00 cause it took me forevor to get into bed. Uh..Past 4am. Lol. B/c my sleep schedule is fucked. I was in bed by 3am though, but I was playing games & watching TikToks on my phone. Lol.

6.If you could move somewhere else, would you? Yes. I'd move to either New York or Sweden. I don’t know. Part of me says yes. But part of me says no..b/c even though Texas has it’s faults (a LOT of them), I cannot imagine living anywhere else long-term..

7. Ever been kissed under fireworks? HAHA. Yeah right. I've never even been kissed! Still nope. I have been kissed though. He just didn’t kiss me under the fireworks the one NYE we spent together...

8. Which of your friends lives closest to you? Um, I think R, but D might also. D is accross Stasney from me and R is a couple blocks down (I don’t talk to these people much anymore & I’m not going to share their names on Tumblr) Uh. I think Maybe Raven? B/c they’re the only one who lives in the same city still. But, Sarah might technically be closer distance wise? Hold on. Ok, yeah, Sarah’s closer, even though she doesn’t live in this city anymore.

9. Do you believe exes can be friends? It all depends on the situation.(I totally stold M's answer but it's true) (I don’t talk to this person anymore & I’m not gonna share their name on Tumblr) I mean, yeah. Two of my best friends are each others exes and they’re still friends. I haven’t stayed friend with my ex, but, uh, he ghosted me so? Lol.

10. How do you feel about Dr. Pepper? I love it. I still love it. Lol.

11. When was the last time you cried really hard? I can't remember. I don't think it was that long ago, I had a light cry on Saturday, but I don't remember the last time I cried really hard. When we got back from our trip in July. Had a full on breakdown that night. Overheated all weekend. Overwhelmed. Anxiety. It was not a very good vacation..I cry a lot though.

12. Who took your profile picture? I got it off of google. I did. 

13. Who was the last person you took a picture of? Umm, either myself, or one of my family members. Aside from myself. I think my dad, on his phone, b/c there was a cicada on his shoulder and he wanted to ask the family group chat if he could keep it. Lol. I take a LOT of pictures of cats though. Lol.

14. Was yesterday better than today? Hail yes! To much drama today! And I couldn't avoid it cause I was in the middle of it! (Oof, what drama was 15 yo Linda dealing with that she couldn’t avoid? Lol. I mean, I guess, Sophomore year was a bit full of drama lol) Anyway, I mean, they were pretty much the same. One wasn’t better than the other. One wasn’t worse than the other.

15. Can you live a day without TV? yeah. Now Music there is something I can't live without! Yep, Do it almost everyday. Sentiments about music remain the same. Lol.

16. Are you upset about anything? Yes. I'm annoyed about something and it's making me upset. (I assume this has something to do with the the drama mentioned earlier lol) Always. Anxiety & depression are a bitch. My rooms a mess & I can’t get myself to clean it. My shelves are still a mess.

17. Do you think relationships are ever really worth it? yeah. though i havent really had one yet. I mean, yeah. Even though I haven’t had one last, aside from friendships, but they’re worth it. 

18. Are you a bad influence? I hope not. If so, let me know.(again I took M's answer but it's true) Probably. Idk. Lol.

19. Night out or night in? Depends on what's going on and how I feel about it. Night in usually. I do like going out sometimes, but, like, to dinner. Maybe a movie or a show. But, you know, we’ve been in a panini press, the only thing I’ve been comfortable doing is going to dinner (fully vaxxed & masked). But I also prefer staying home anyway. (Like I usually just go to dinner with my family lol)

20. What items could you not go without during the day? my computer. my book. my journal and a pen. My phone. My journal (b/c I write in it every night, as a diary, 14yo Linda wrote stories). Uh. I didn’t take food or drinks into account in the og, so I won’t in those. But, yeah. My phone & journal. I can go a day without my laptop if I need to. (Went the whole trip in July without pulling it out, though maybe that’s not a good example since my anxiety on that trip was so high..) I want to say a book, but I’ve been in a massive reading slump so...I wish I read as much as 15yo Linda did..

21. Who was the last person you visited in the hospital? I don't remember. I think it was myself.(if you want to know, ask me in person) I honestly don’t know. I don’t remember the last time I was in a hospital. 

22. What does the last text message in your inbox say? "Mrbobbybones:  wish ted would finally meet their mother already. geez. get to it. However, I see myself in that character more and more each episode." yeah. That's what it says. It's from Twitter. (Huh? and I can’t even go check b/c my inbox doesn’t go back to 2009 on Twitter?? (I haven’t had my account that long) Wait wait wait just remembered I used to get tweets to my phone as text messages lol)

Facebook messenger: “ Cool” From our group chat. Lol.

From actual text messages on my phone: “ heeey! Just put up the Tuesday PDS just for you  it’s a big one.” From Phillip Defranco’s text line Lol.

23. How do you feel about your life right now? I'm loving and hating it. but hey nobody gets out alive right? Uh..I mean. I’m alive. I have WiFi. Food. Family. I haven’t seen my friends in 2 years. (Minus Alex, b/c they were here in July to cat/house sit, but I saw them for like, one night..) There’s a lot that could be better. A lot that could be worse. 

24. Do you hate anyone? yes!!! Oof. I mean, kinda.

25. If we were to look in your Facebook Inbox, what would we find? some random conversations. most of my convos on her though have been in chat or through comments. Facebook Inbox is now Facebook Messenger. So you’ll find all my Facebook Messenger convos. Mostly our group chat. And side group chats for secret planning (birthdays & stuff). Plus other chats? Lol.

26. Say you were given a drug test right now, would you pass? I better! (excuse me miss 15yo Linda you absolutely could have passed a drug test you ALSO didn’t drink or smoke or take any drugs lol) Yeah. Absolutely. I don’t drink or smoke or take any drugs so, yeah? Lol.

27. Has anyone ever called you perfect before? 

Yes. But I can't remember when... Yeah. Pretty sure. 

28. What song is stuck in your head? Gee by SNSD(Girls Generation) They're Korean. A few My Chemical Romance songs

29. Someone knocks on your window at 2:00 a.m., who do you want it to be? EDWARD CULLEN! Joke! lol. No I don't know. If it was Edward, I'd call the cops. whoever it is though better have an explaination or they are gonna get hit in the head with my Book of Shadows. (Maybe I wouldn’t mind Edward at my window though? Lol.) Uh. My friends? Lol. Idk if I want anyone knocking on my window at 2am.

30.Wanna have grandkids before you’re 50? I don't know....... Uh. No? Idk. Most likely not gonna happen. 

31. Name something you have to do tomorrow? I can't think of anything right now... Eat. Should probably clean my room.

32. Do you think too much or too little? Way to much! lol. Way way way too much

33. Do you smile a lot? i try to. I think I do. I get told that alot in Theater...

I think so

Raphael x Fem!Reader

Reader is April's little sister and meets the turtles through her. I changed the ages and timeline a bit just because I don't feel entirely comfortable writing the turtles as 15 year old kids. SO the turtles are 18 the reader is 17 nearing 18 and april is 27.

Warnings: some mention of parent death, but nothing else!

Part 1/ ??

Im still pretty new at writing fanfic and have only done a few and this is my very first tmnt one. Constructive criticism and nice things only please!

I didn't remember my dad. My mother gave birth to me a month before his death. I didn’t remember him but my big sister April did. She told me everything she could about him, all kinds of stories and old home videos. It's almost like I know him but I don’t. Sometimes it's sad and I wish for nothing more than to have some memories with him, but I’ve had a good life and have a great family. I’ve lived with my sister since our mom passed 2 years ago from cancer. I miss her a lot, but I like living with April and I love our apartment.

We both have a deep love for media. She is a reporter with Channel 6 and I started making youtube videos right around the time mom died. It was like a video diary back then and has since turned into something completely different, though there are the occasional personal diary type videos.

I was wearing my favorite oversized sweater. It was a deep forest green and nearly reached my knees. It was worn and a bit tattered in some places, but it was the coziest thing ever.. I was barefoot in the kitchen listening to April talking about the latest Foot Clan activity and thinking about the questions she was planning for some guy who worked on the docks. She had convinced her camera guy Vern to take her over there before they shot her morning segment.

“You’re gonna be late!” I called into the living room while putting some breakfastt in a container for her to take on the road.

“Thank you shorty,” She rushed in and gave me a kiss on the cheek as she grabbed her breakfast and rushed out of the kitchen again to grab her bag “I’ll either be back for dinner or late!”

“That's really specific April,” I mutter as a lean in the kitchen doorway and watch her check her purse. “Do you have your touchup bag and your toothbrush?”

April let out a small gasp and rushed back to the bathroom. She came back out with a bag, gathered her things and blew a kiss as she ran out the door. I let out a laugh and went to eat my own food.

I spent the day editing a new video. I just hit 700k last week so I was making a special video to celebrate. It had some songs that I had covered laid over a video of me painting a portrait of my mother and father. It was taken a year before he had died and they had gone on a weekend getaway in the Appalachian mountains.

I didn't look up until April burst through the door. It was already dark out and I hadn’t even noticed.

“I just witnessed a Foot Clan attack!” she called as she walked through the apartment.

“What? Oh my god! Are you okay?” I practically jumped up and followed her as she began pacing around the living room. “April? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine! There I was at the docks trying to get some answers and then BAM! They were there!” She went on about the attack and then started about some kind of vigilante that fought them off.

“Vigilante? Are you serious?” She didn't answer, she just went into her room. I sat back down on the couch and tried to process what she had said. In the end I shook it off and went get some dinner ready.

Over the next few days April was hard to find. She seemed to be constantly on the move and didn't answer her phone. She came home talking about dad's old experiments and giant turtles, and over the next 2 days seemed to just be gone. The spire on the Sacks building fell and The Shredder, who was the leader of the Foot Clan, was arrested and Eric Sacks was revealed to have been working alongside him the whole time. It was a wild time for New York, and April was suddenly quiet about the vigilantes.

Time began to move on and April started talking about these 4 new friends she had that were brothers. They seemed like a fun nice group, and the stories she shared were great.

“So,” I started as we sat together on the couch, “when do I get to meet the brothers?”

April choked on her glass of white wine. “What? Meet them?”

“Yeah, You talk about them all the time! I would like to meet them. They’re all you’ve been talking about for like 3 weeks.” I said as I pushed her with my foot.

“Ummm,” April stopped to think and had a vague look of concern on her face, “I'm not sure actually. They’re pretty busy guys.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Uh-huh. If you don't want me to meet them just say so. I was just curious.” I turn my face away from her.

“No it's not that, It's just they’re kinda shy. They don’t really like meeting people.” April's face said that she was telling a lie.

“Okay.” I left it at that clearly something is bugging her about me meeting her friends.

April-

April went to spend some time with the boys, but couldn’t stop thinking about them meeting her little sister. How would she react? She thought to herself, ‘I fainted when I met them, and there are still times when it kinda freaks me out a bit. I don’t want my baby sister to get scared and I don’t want the boys to get hurt because of it.’ They had tried to act like April’s reaction didn’t hurt them, but she knew it did. ‘I just want everyone to be happy.’ She was sitting in the lair watching the boys fight and Mikey brought up their Christmas pop album again. She smiled, (y/n) loved music and often performed covers on YouTube. She was really good at it. She had even written her own songs but at this point refused to release or talk about them on her channel.

“April, is something troubling you?” The brunette turned, surprised to see Master Splinter.

“Oh it’s nothing really.” She paused, “Actually could we talk? I am having some trouble.” Splinter nodded and gestured for her to follow. Not answering the questioning looks of the brothers, they went into Hashi.

“The boys avoid this room as much as possible,” Splinter said with a chuckle, “they will not listen in in here.”

“Makes sense,” April laughed and sat down on a mat with Splinter while looking at the odd structures in the room, “I’m having some trouble with my sister.”

“Oh yes, little (y/n) she had only just been born. I believe your father brought her down to the lab twice in those last weeks.” He thought back fondly on the small soft baby that looked so tiny in the arms of her father but so big compared to him then. “ what is it that is wrong?”

“She wants to meet the brothers. She doesn’t know that they are turtles, but she knows I have new friends.” April said looking down, “ we are very open. We’re the only family we have left so we always know each other's friends. It’s a safety thing I guess.”

Master Splinter hummed and looked at April, who continued.

“She wants to meet them and honestly I want her to too! I think they would all get along so well and I think the boys would adore her. It would also be nice to know that there are 4 ninjas who would look out for her.” April sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

“I just don’t want the boys to get hurt. What if she is afraid of them? What if she screams and calls them monsters or freaks? What if she passes out or cries. It would hurt them so much, and I don’t want to see my sister frightened anyway.” April’s shoulders slumped and she lowered her face to look across at Splinter.

“You know your sister well? Do you think she will react this way?” The rat questioned.

“I don’t know. This isn’t exactly a situation that has ever come up before or one I ever thought I would be in.” She played with her fingers in her lap and she watched him stroke his beard.

“I think you know your sister well and know what would be the best course of action.” He smiled, “I think the trouble now will be convincing the boys to risk meeting her. I have no doubt that it will be a split crowd.”

April nodded and gave a kind of exasperated smile. She knew exactly what he was talking about. Mikey and Ralph would agree, Donnie was iffy, but Leo would say no.

“Thank you Splinter. That does actually help. Do you mind if I stay in here a bit longer?” She asked.

“Go ahead child. Take your time.” Splinter got up and left the Hashi.

April sat and thought about what he had said. She thought back to everything she knew about her sister and what she knew of the boys. If her sister could be accepting she knew that they could have a great friendship. The boys were half a year older than her and they didn't know anyone their age. It would be nice for them to have that she thought. She knew Mikey would be super friendly right away, maybe even too friendly. Donnie would be polite but wary at first and a bit excited. Raph would be happy just to meet another person, but Leo would be cold. She feared that he would be distant and unapproachable and she knew her sister well enough to know she wouldn't be able to handle that.

She took her time and eventually rejoined the brothers. She brushed off their questions with a simple: “I needed advice.” She sat down with them as they all talked and joked around. Finally Donnie brought up the perfect opportunity.

“April you're lucky you don't have brothers.” He said as Mikey bombarded him with insane ideas for gadgets.

“Well I don't have any brothers but I do have a baby sister.” The turtles all turned towards her clearly shocked by this news. “She's actually about 4 months from turning 18.”

“Woah Angelcakes, We didn't know you had a lil’ sis. Is she as beautiful as you?” Mikey said while batting his eyes at her.

“I think she is absolutely gorgeous, and she sings and does art. She’s about to be a senior in high school.” April said while leaning closer to mikey. “Shes shorter than me and has curves for days. She used to be on the dance team actually.” April laughed and Mikey threw himself back and fanned himself with his hand.

“Why haven't you mentioned her?” Leo asked.

“You never asked if I had any siblings. She was born a few weeks before my dad died.” April smiled sadly at that “She actually asked if she could meet you.”

The boys seemed to freeze at that, and suddenly all eyes were on her.

“You told about us?”. Raph asked.

“Kinda. I might have left out the part about being ninja turtles, but I told her about my new friends and she wants to meet you guys.” Raph scoffed at her answer.

“So you didn't actually tell her about us.” He almost snapped at her.

“Cool it Raph.” leo warned.

“I don't wanna be looked at like a freak. She won't want to meet us when she sees us.” he stood up and walked off. April looked at the others who all looked like they wanted to disagree and agree with Raph at the same time.

“Sorry angelcakes, I'm sure baby angelcakes is great though.” Mikey shrugged.

April sat in disbelief that they all basically said no. The lair was quiet after that and she left after they ate some dinner.

She got home only to remember her sister was spending the night at her friends house. So she had the place all to herself. She let out a sigh and poured herself a tall glass of wine and sat on the couch thinking about the events of the day. She came up with a plan as she finished her cup and decided that by the end of the week they boys will have met her baby sister. She grabbed her phone and invited the boys to come hang out at her place for once this upcoming weekend. They didn't even ask if her sister would be there.

(Y/N)-

April had gone out to pick up some pizza for a late night dinner. I had school, homework, and some video editing to do and forgot to cook. April came home late and said not to worry about it and would grab some pizza. Her new favorite place didn’t offer delivery so she went to go get it. I decided that a nice hot shower sounded good and went in. I got out as I heard the front door open and close. I made my way to my room about to throw on my favorite green sweater only to remember that It had been washed and was in the dryer. So, I wrapped my towel back around me and opened my door to head out into the living room. I walked out and looked up only to meet with 4 pairs of eyes.

“Oh my bad,” I said, turning to go back to my room only to stop and turn right back around. “Ummmm…” I trailed off not sure what to say as I stared at 4 very large, very green, oddly human like turtles, all while in a bath towel that left most of my left hip exposed.

“Oh hi (y/n). I forgot to mention I had friends coming over.” April said walking into the room. “You might wanna put some clothes on though.”

“Yeah…” I said not able to look away from the very large turtle creatures sitting in the living room.

Little Red (MxF) Part 2 *NSFW*

*Gnoll Boyfriend!*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I saw Tazz the next day, or his hulking figure, at the edge of the woods.

It still blew me away how dark the woods were, even with the morning sun shining down on my grandma's small clearing.

"You can come out, Tazz," I called as I sat in a rocking chair on the wooden porch with a steaming cup of coffee.

"I don't think you'd like what you saw," he called back but moved closer within the treeline, still covered in darkness.

"I wouldn't like what I saw if I didn't already know you, maybe, but I've never been shallow, and you of all...creatures...should know that," I rolled my eyes.

I listened to him growl and something about it deep and gravel-like down in his big chest had a jolt of energy rocketing straight south within my body.

And then I had to mentally chastise myself because it was much too early to be feeling those kinds of feelings...there, anyway.

But when I looked down at my cup and saw that my nipples had peaked as well, I crossed my arms over my chest and blushed and wondered if he could tell what I was thinking or if he had been able to sense things as well as he had when we were younger.

He seemed to know all of my moods, being more clingy and touchy when I was upset, making me laugh until I had tears rolling down my cheeks when I was sad, and usually kept his distance when I was angry.

Leaves crunching caught my attention and I turned to see him moving closer, his silhouetted head tilted up and his snout-like nose sniffing.

And then those eyes that I had seen yesterday pointed my direction and he made a noise at the back of his throat before he backed away.

"Chette, you need to go inside. I'm sure Rosa has your breakfast ready," he said in a short tone and when I stood up and a sudden gust of wind blew past me that had my nightgown billowing around me and into the trees, I watched him stiffen before he disappeared.

"The fuck," I whispered but made my way inside and had breakfast with my grandmother before getting dressed to help her around her place.

***

I didn't see Tazz for the rest of the weekend. I called for him Saturday evening but I got no response. I called for him Sunday morning--no response.

And when I had to leave, I kept my eyes on the treeline on the way down the path to my car, hoping to catch a glimpse of him...

But nothing.

I thought I saw something huge running in the treeline as I drove down the gravel road that led to my grandmother's road but it stopped at the edge of the woods.

I hated that I wasn't able to stay longer but I was grateful that I got to see my grandmother again... And I was grateful to remember and talk to Tazz again.

Hoping, praying, and wishing was I, that summer break would hurry up and come soon.

***

"You have to, Blanchette," My mother said with her brow raised.

"Again, mom? Seriously? I was just out there! Grandmas fine! I saw her with my own two eyes, for Christ's sake," I cried out in frustration as I sat at the island while she made dinner.

My mom huffed but continued to chop the carrots.

"I don't understand what happened since then but you said you had a great time with her during winter break," she insisted and brought the carrots to the pot behind her.

"Yeah," I said as I put my phone down, "I don't even really remember all that happened but I definitely don't want to waste my whole summer break at her tiny shack, mom! I have a life, friends, and I wanted to look for a job!"

She glared at me in that 'no-nonsense' kind of way, "I said you're going and that's final. Do you hear me? Your grandmother says she needs help and since your father is away at work and I have to be here for your little sister, it's up to you to go and help her."

It was my turn to huff and drag my hand through my hair.

"Seriously mom, be cool, please? I mean, why don't you just pack up Megan and bring her! I'm sure she'd love the outdoors!"

Her face turned red and then she exploded.

"I am not going out there! You are and that's final! Not another word, Blanchette, and I mean it! Go and pack enough for at least a few weeks and I don't even want to hear a sigh! Now go!"

My eyes widened because she had never really gone off like that so I was sure she meant business. But I stepped down from my stool and headed up the stairs without even a sigh.

But once I got to my room, I was, quietly, cussing up a storm.

***

The closer I got, the more I remembered.

The huge dark figure in the treeline, and the feeling of comfort but also...

That growl.

My heart started to race as I parked my car where I parked it the last time.

I didn't need the cloak this time as it was summer and hot as hell so all I had on was a pair of shorts, tennis shoes for the trip through the overgrown path, and a sleeveless shirt.

And sunglasses, of course.

I grabbed my duffle bag out of the back and knew I would hate the walk this time because the bag was packed to the brim with all the things I thought I would need but now regretted.

"Fuck me," I growled under my breath and kicked the back door closed with my foot before locking the car and placing the keys in my pockets.

I began my trek up the path and then had to switch shoulders when one got tired.

"′Go and visit your grandmother again, Blanchette', 'It'll be fun, Blanchette', ′Just you and her and the peace of the woods, Blanchette'. Yeah, and this mile-long trek to her house with this hundred-pound duffle bag, mom!"

My thoughts were taken from how angry I was when I heard leaves crunching and sticks breaking past the treeline.

And my heart was racing again and that anxiety I remember feeling when I was leaving the last time I was here, was back again.

"Tazz," I breathed out hopefully as I saw a familiar hulking figure of darkness--but now it looked...slimmer.

"Chette," he softly greeted, "And with fewer clothes than the last time, I see," he teased.

I blushed and looked down at how tight my sleeveless shirt was, and how this was probably the wrong shirt to wear on this day because while also trying to carry my heavy bag, I also had to keep pulling up the shirt so it wouldn't expose my braless breasts.

My midriff was showing, as well, and the shorts could've been deemed too inappropriate but it was summer and it was hot and there was no way I was going to go by social regulations while out in the woods.

But something about having Tazz comment on my outfit...

It had my body feeling...things.

"It's summer," Is all I said, though.

"Indeed, it is. I caught on that you needed help with that," he asked and stretched his arm out and I gasped as I caught sight of his hands and claws.

He pulled his hand back as quickly as the sound escaped my mouth and I instantly felt regret.

"I'm sorry, it's just been so long since I've seen you," I moved closer, "Your nails weren't nearly as...deadly when we were kids," I tried but then I watched him disappear again.

"Fuck," I whispered as all around me was quiet again.

***

"Oh, Chettie-spaghetti, I'm so glad you came again," My grandma met me on the porch but then she frowned.

"Tazz didn't help you with your bag," she asked accusingly and then turned her attention to the treeline.

"Oh, he tried, but I scared him off," I huffed as I walked up the stairs and onto the porch.

She laughed as she pulled me into a hug, "You scared him off? What'd you do?"

I grumbled and slumped my bag down on the porch with another huff, "I gasped when I saw his claws. I hadn't meant to and it wasn't because I was scared or anything..."

"Quite the opposite actually," Grandma asked with a knowing look and I blushed under her gaze.

She then chuckled and patted the back of my hand, "Leave your bag here and go take a walk. You need to talk to him. He's missed you."

I rolled my eyes and lifted a brow, "He didn't even see me off when I left in January. If he missed me so much then why did he avoid me?"

Grandma shrugged and smirked, "You'll have to talk to him about that, sweetheart."

I watched as she walked around me and my bag and then into the house before she turned around before the door shut, "Don't stay out too long, I'm making dinner. But then again...Tazz most likely won't let you."

"Grandma, how am I supposed to find him," I asked quietly before she turned back around.

Jutting out her chin, she looked out at the treeline, "Go get lost. He'll find you."

If that's what it would take...then I guessed that's what I would do.

She shut the door behind her and I walked down the steps and out into the clearing but stopped at the treeline.

"Tazz," I said, knowing that he was probably watching and could most likely hear me, "Are you really going to make me come in there after you? You want me to get lost in there?"

No response.

"Fine," I shrugged and stepped a foot past the treeline before I heard branches snapping.

"Uh-huh," I smirked and followed the sound that was just in front but a bit to the right of me.

I lifted branches and stepped over various spiked vines and tree roots as I followed the sounds of breaking sticks through the forest.

"You will help me get back out of here, right," I asked in a chuckle and was then pushed up against the base of a tree, my front to the bark.

"What the he--"

"--You were following a Dryad," he whispered into my ear.

A shiver ran down my spine as I felt his fur all over my half-naked back, his warm breath on my naked shoulder and neck.

"What would she have done," I asked in a whisper.

I felt his cold nose drag up my neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

"She would've charmed your panties off," And I heard the smirk in his words.

I let out a breathless chuckle before I sucked in a deep breath, "Is she at least pretty?"

He scoffed lightly, "All nymphs are beautiful. That's why I find you so charming."

"Beautiful and charming, huh? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were flirting, Tazzimo," I tried to say with confidence but it definitely came out as a whimper.

"Your pounding heart...and the scent of your arousal...they are both flirting with me," he said and I imaged he had a brow raised as he looked me over with a hunger in his eyes. I know I would be.

I then felt one of his hands with all of those sharp claws touch my hip and I gasped but he didn't back away. No, he moved that hand around to my front and planted it on my stomach and moved closer.

"You smell divine, Chette," he whispered and I felt his tongue run along my neck.

I swallowed audibly and was focused on those claws sitting against the skin of my lower stomach.

"You could rip me open with just the swipe of your hand," I whimpered quietly.

He growled, "Does the thought frighten you?"

"No," I breathed out and when his other hand wrapped around my throat, I laid my head back against his chest.

"You really aren't scared, are you? You're...you're turned on...by me," he asked and chuckled darkly before his fingers squeezed lightly around the sides of my neck.

"Um," I tried to play it down but I felt the fingers wrapped around my throat let go and then I felt those sharp claws touch the sensitive skin of my neck.

I then felt as he ran them, gently, down to the top of my chest, "Don't lie to me, Chette. You've never been good at lying."

"You always could smell a lie when I told one," I whispered and my chest was heaving with my heavy breathing as his claws played at the top of my shirt.

"Mmh, let's play a game," he suggested and I felt the claws on my naked lower stomach tap there.

"A game," I asked, unsure.

"Yeah. Two truths, one lie. You tell me two truths and one lie and I'll try to guess which one is a lie," he whispered and ran his tongue along my neck again.

"Okay... Um," I thought for a moment.

"I didn't want to come out here again when my mom asked me to. Um, I love my grandma... And... I don't...want to...kiss you."

I was spun around then, my back to the tree, and came face to face with his massive chest until I felt his claws lift my chin. My eyes then met his and he smirked down at me.

"Lie," he growled, "I'll have to punish you now."

I whimpered but my panties were damp, "You wanted it!"

"And so do you," he whispered and picked me up so that I wrapped my legs around his waist and I was face to face with him with my arms around his furry spotted neck.

He looked like Tazz, like he always had but older, more masculine. He had an edge now that he never had when we were growing up but maybe that came with age.

His brown eyes looked black in the darkness with barely any light reaching through the trees and his teeth were sharp in his mouth...

But I wanted nothing more than to feel them on my skin.

I looked up into his eyes again, "I don't want to kiss you," I lied again.

"I'll punish you, for sure, now," he whispered and looked down at my lips.

"Please don't."

He smashed his lips to mine and then we were frenzied as he yanked my top down to sit at my hips and pushed my back against the tree before bringing his claws between us and shredding the small bit of denim that was my shorts before obliterating my panties with just a yank.

And I had to pull back just a bit to moan as I felt one of his claws graze my clitoris a few times.

"Please," I breathed into his open mouth before letting my tongue find his.

I then heard the sound of a zipper and the ruffle of cloth before I felt something hard and hot against my slit.

"So warm, Chette, and so wet," he said and was all but panting with his tongue hanging out.

I pushed my lips back to his and brought my hands down to rub his cock.

It was so big that I had to use both hands to fit around him as one wouldn't close. And once I got down to the base of him, I felt his knot and gasped at the size. There was no way.

"Impossible," I whimpered but he made me look into his eyes with his hand around my neck again.

"All of me will fit inside of you," he growled and brought the tip of his cock to my entrance before he pushed in.

"Oh, fuck," I breathed out and chuckled breathlessly, "Big boy."

"Tight," he grunted and growled when his knot hit against my opening but couldn't fit.

"Go, please, hurry," I whispered and kissed him as I felt him begin to rock in and out of me, each time, his knot hitting against me and each time, I gasped for what was to come.

And as he rutted up into me, he brought both of my wrists up above my head and held them there with one of his large hands as we kissed.

As he sped up his thrusting, we both began moaning into the other's mouth.

"You like that," he grunted before nudging my head to the side so he could have access to my neck.

"Yes! Just like that, please!"

I then felt his teeth drag along my throat, sending jolts of electricity to my clitoris.

"I'm close," I cried out and loved feeling how big he was inside of me, how much he stretched me, "Bite me, Tazz."

"Yeah? You like my teeth on your delicate human skin, Chette? One wrong move and I could seriously hurt you," he whispered but his words were what sent me over the edge.

I tightened my legs around his waist as my walls tightened around his cock. I squeezed the hand that was holding my hands above my head as I wailed out my climax.

He growled and began to thrust harder into me, his knot hitting against my sensitive entrance but I was ready for it--ready for all of him.

"Helpless," he growled and his dark eyes were on mine, "Even if you wanted me to let you go, there'd be nothing you could do to make me. You're helpless, Chette, and you love it, don't you? You're at my mercy and I say when I'm finished with you."

"You're gonna make me come again," I cried and could already feel the build-up again, that familiar feeling of heat rushing through my body.

"Not until I say you can," he enunciated every word with a hard and punishing thrust.

"Please say I can, please say I can," I pleaded as I tried to hold back the flood gates but I was almost there.

It wouldn't be long before I overflowed again.

And then he thrust hard into me, and I had to stretch to take his knot. At the same time, he latched his teeth onto the skin between my neck and shoulder with a growl and I exploded--seeing stars behind my eyelids as I came for a second time.

As I came back down from the heavens, he was licking where he bit me and his fingers were rubbing the tops of my hands.

"Are you okay," he asked gently and widened his stance as his come began to glob out of me and onto the forest floor with how much there was. And because of this, it caused him to shift inside of me.

I gasped and clenched my walls around him and listened to him growl as he pushed as far as he could into me.

"Sensitive," he groaned as he buried his face in my neck and licked the mark he left again.

"Stop moving so much then," I teased and nuzzled my cheek to his.

"I don't want come on my feet," he whined and chuckled as he pulled back to look down at me.

"Then don't come so much," I whispered and grinned.

"That is not something I can help," he admitted and brought my hands up and licked the backs of them.

It was only then that I saw I was bleeding slightly.

There were small dots exactly where his claws had been as he held my hand but it warmed my heart to see him taking care of me as he used to when we were growing up.

"I'm okay," I answered his question with a genuine smile, "Better than, actually."

As his knot reduced, he slipped out of me and then set me down.  

I pulled my top back up to cover my breasts but there was absolutely no salvaging my shorts.

Tazz smiled sheepishly and kneeled down to grab his jean shorts before holding them out to me.

"Sorry about your shorts...and your panties," he chuckled.

I pulled up the shorts but they were several sizes too big so I had to hold them up, and we both laughed at the sight.

"I should be getting you back. Rosa's probably worried and dinner is definitely ready. I can smell it," he said quietly as he looked down at me.

"She's not worried. She's the one who told me to come into the forest and get lost. She said you'd find me," I blushed and began walking in the direction of my grandmothers house.

"I'll always find you, Chette. If you want to be found," he said quietly again and walked with me.

We were quiet for most of the walk back but once I could see the clearing through the trees, my stomach started to knot knowing that we would have to part soon.

"How long will you be here this time," Tazz asked and I could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

"I'll be here most of the summer," I replied and watched the forest floor as we walked.

But then I was pushed against a tree again and his lips were on mine and I was ready to go for round two but he pulled back.

"Then we'll just have to make the most of the summer, won't we," he growled and licked over the mark he left on my skin again.

And before I knew it, I was pushed into the clearing and when I turned around, Tazz was gone.

"Thanks for making me face her along, you asshole," I hissed at the treeline, hoping he was watching before I turned around and started walking up to the porch.

I knew grandma would ask a million and two questions with the way I looked but I had to face her at some point.

It did help that I was more relaxed now...but I was in definite need of a shower.

There was no way I could keep Tazz's shorts up and carry my bag inside so I just kneeled down and grabbed some clothes before going inside.

Grandma had her back to me as she was busy in the kitchen and I tried my hardest to sneak past her but damn her squeaky floorboards!

"Chettie? You're back," she asked and turned around and then let out one loud laugh when her eyes met me.

"And it seems you had fun...but...you lost your shorts, dear," she smirked," And you've got a bite mark on your neck. Oh dear, you were attacked, weren't you? Did you fight terribly?"

I chuckled but rolled my eyes, "For my life, grandma. If you don't mine, I'll be taking a shower now."

"Yeah," she asked as I set off down the hallway, "You need help getting the tree bark out of your hair, dear?"

"Grandma," I cried but could here her hyena laughing in the kitchen as I slammed the bathroom door.

I was never going to be able to live this down.

And I knew I didn't want to.  

Tonight was one of the best nights of my life and I couldn't wait for many, many, many more.

The Détente

Prompt (courtesy of @writing-prompt-s): You’re the most powerful villain in the world. Formerly. Now you run a bar that works as a neutral zone for heroes and villains alike. One day, a hotshot hero tries to arrest you.

There’s nothing more pathetic than a spandex-clad celebrity crying in broad daylight.

I mean, really, as someone who spends a fair chunk of their daily life with a full rotation of publicists and managers, you would think the city’s biggest brand-name superhero would know better than to sniffle and drivel into his own cape in a bar at 2 p.m.

In my bar, no less.

“Alright, buddy, you’re cut off,” I sighed, setting down one of the glasses I had already polished several times over. “We’re not even open yet; I made an exception for you, but it’s time to go.”

He slowly lifted his head from the wrinkled red fabric he had thrown over his shoulder and onto the bartop.

“No, I’m not going anywhere,” he slurred, his cheeks still damp. “And you can’t make me.”

I eyed him skeptically. My bar — the Détente — wasn’t set to open till four. But when he came knocking on my door with nearly enough force to shatter the glass, I decided it could be a one-time thing. You know, for old time’s sake.

“I think we both know I can.”

As his head slumped back down, I twisted my hair up into a bun, having learned long ago that it was better not to give belligerent patrons something to grab onto. Sure, I could easily hold my own if it came down to it (my reputation alone was usually enough of a deterrent for some), but seeing as I was the owner of the city’s only hero-villain neutral zone, I figured it was best to set an example and avoid physical altercations whenever possible.

“Up, up up.” I rounded the corner of the bar and slammed a glass of water down in front of him, sloshing some of the liquid over the rim and onto his perfectly-coiffed hair.

If I hadn’t known any better, I’d have thought this guy’s superpower was that of hair gel application. I mean seriously, even throughout our extensive history of battles and skirmishes, I had never once seen a hair out of place on his head. But that was beside the point.

“No! I want to be here,” he said bitterly, his eyes darkening as they struggled to focus on my face. “You can’t try to make me leave. Otherwise I — I’ll arrest you!”

“Arrest me?” I scoffed. “For what?”

“For … for this!” He gestured vaguely between the two of us, which could have meant just about anything, at this point.

“Okay, buddy.” I patted his back, suppressing my exasperation. “I’m going to —”

Next thing I knew, he had grabbed my wrist and twisted deftly behind me, pulling my other wrist to cross behind my back. Even drunk, it seemed like the hotshot hero still had some moves. Good to know.

“You’re. Under. Arrest,” he whispered between clenched teeth.

Uh-huh.

“Look, my wife’s going to be here soon to help me open, and I would really rather not have to ask her to clean up broken glass,” I said offhandedly. “You literally spent decades trying unsuccessfully to arrest me, so I don’t know why you think you could manage as much after drinking … uh … how many beers did you have, again?”

I braced myself, awaiting his trademark move of tossing me in whatever direction he felt like for the day (usually at a weak wall or structure, just for the dramatic flair that property destruction provided). But instead, he did the unimaginable.

He started talking about his feelings.

“I … I tried so hard to arrest you back then! I really did,” he cried from behind me. Well, blubbered, was more like it. “You were my arch-nemesis for 20 years. 20 years, Ruth! And now you’re … you’re running a bar? We used to make headlines together: you wreaking havoc as the world’s most powerful villain, and me saving the day as the greatest hero. What happened?”

He released my wrists, allowing me to turn and face him. I knew he was drunk and upset, but I hadn’t expected the man to look so outright dejected. And after a solid 20 years of beating the ever-living shit out of him, I was entirely lost as to what to do now. I mean, “comforting each other” wasn’t exactly in our purview.

“Is — is that why you’ve never visited my bar before, Phil?” I asked hesitantly. “Because you … miss fighting me?”

He just nodded and avoided my eyes, looking for the world like his tears would reemerge at any given moment.

“Oh … Oh shit, um, come on, don’t cry, I’ll let you arrest me.” My hands shot out uselessly, not knowing how to placate without accidental provocation. “Come on, let’s go downtown to the police station. I’ll even let you tie me up in the flag outside of City Hall on the way there, just like you always wanted to in the old days.”

“No, it doesn’t count if you let me arrest you. It isn’t real!” He stomped one foot.

I paused, considering my next move. How does one calm down a petulant child of a middle-aged superhero? Well, he thought he wanted a fight. But maybe …

“Wait here.”

For a few minutes, I disappeared into the “Employees Only” room at the back of the bar. When I returned, Phil was sitting in a corner booth, looking down at his gloved hands. God, those bright blue gloves were as gaudy as ever. I guess some things never change.

Sliding in across the table from him, I pushed forward a bottle of tequila. He eyed it dubiously, turning the neck to inspect the label.

“This brand went out years ago,” he breathed. “Where in the world did you get this? It — it used to be my favorite, back when I had just been promoted from side-kick.”

“Remember when we first met? The first crime you ever chased me away from? It was a—”

“A liquor store robbery,” he finished for me.

“Yeah, exactly,” I nodded. “A liquor store robbery. I didn’t get away with much, obviously, ‘cause you showed up. But I did manage to get away with this bottle. It was a memento of my first-ever act of villainy.”

He beamed. “And my first-ever attempt at catching you.”

We both sighed, sharing a light chuckle and shaking our heads at the memory of the young, dumb kids we had been some 20-odd years ago. Oh, how we had both started so small.

“Now, I’m going to grab some shot glasses from behind the bar,” I announced, standing up. “What do you say we open up this bad boy and have a round, on the house?”

He nodded wordlessly, trying and failing to discreetly wipe away fresh tears on his cape.

“Okay, bud.” I placed one hand on his shoulder. “But after that, you have to promise me you’ll drink some water.”

______

His appearances at my bar from that point forward were sporadic — and he never arrived during regular business hours — but I always kept that bottle and a pair of shot glasses tucked away for whenever he did inevitably show up.

It seemed my lifelong nemesis had somehow become my favorite patron and oldest friend. And no matter how late he came, I always offered to let him arrest me.

He always said no.

Blades of Grass Written by Carmen Ella Dedicated to Betty Lou; From a family that loves her

Naomi’s feet flew across the pavement as she raced into her school.  She hadn’t realized she was this far behind in her morning schedule until she glanced up at the clock and discovered that it was 10 minutes until  the start of her first class.  Panicked, she dashed off.  Naomi would be fine if she could make it to her seat before the bell rang.  If she was late, she might get a detention slip and that could jeopardize volleyball.  Miles of hallway remained before she would reach her destination, on top of stopping to get her books from her locker.  She needed to focus and hustle. Naomi huffed and puffed, weaving in and out of lanes of students, all moving at different speeds. Naomi couldn’t help but feel a little frustrated at the situation.  She couldn't figure out how she'd gotten herself so late.  The last thing Naomi remembered was walking across the street to the gas station for a soda.  After that, nothing, until she woke up this morning and was super late. With her goal in sight, Naomi checked her watch.  Score! Less than one minute left and the teacher was nowhere in sight.  There was plenty of time to be in her seat, before the bell rang, avoiding a tardy.   One final sprint and Naomi collapsed in her seat, resting her head of her table, trying to catch her breath.   It was too early in the morning to get so worked up and so exhausted.   Naomi reached for her purse, hoping to retrieve a water bottle for a drink.  Naomi heard the familiar muffled chatter and whispers of students waiting for class to begin.  She had a weird feeling.  Naomi shot a bewildered look at the clock.  Naomi been sitting for 20 minutes past the first bell of the day, but it hadn't rang.  Class didn't start.  Looking around the room, Naomi saw that the room was only half full of other students coming and going as they please, all while the teacher observed, subdued, from his desk.  Echoing from every corner in the room, sniffling, crying, and words of sympathy was heard.  Something was definitely wrong.  Naomi saw that her two best friends were drifting in through the open door.  She rose to go greet them.  “Guys!  What’s - -”  Naomi passed right through her friends.  “Huh?”  She shivered. “They can’t see or hear you,” answered a calm voice from the hall . What?  Why?“  Naomi jumped at the strange voice.  “Who are you?” “Hello, Naomi.“  A tall, plain woman stepped forward.  “Listen closely to what your friends and classmates are saying as we pass.” Naomi focuses on a nearby conversation.  Two students are talking.  Someone had been killed in an accident.  Naomi nods, still not putting all the pieces together.  She turned to the strange woman.  “Who are you?  How do you know my name?”   “My name is Judy.“  The woman smiles, trying to put Naomi at ease.  “I know your name because my niece is in your class.” “Your niece?”  Naomi follows Judy as she begins moving away down the hall. “Uh-huh.”  Judy points to an awkward girl with hair in her face.  The girl is sobbing and crying pretty hard.  “That’s her.” “The weird girl?“  Naomi makes a face.  “Nobody wants to be friends with her.”  Naomi blushed, changing her tone.  “Uh… sorry.  She’s your niece?” Judy smirked.  “Yes, she does have the reputation of being a bit, doesn’t she.  She is my niece.  Her name is Tressa.  I’ve been watching out for her.” “Watching out?”  Naomi cried.  “What do you mean?  And how come nobody can see or hear me?”  Naomi sits on a bench, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “Oh, honey.”  Judy goes over to Naomi and puts an arm around her shoulder.  “There’s no reason to cry.  I know this is all confusing and frustrating.  It’s okay.  I seem to have forgotten how unsettling all this can be for someone new to this experience.”   Naomi allows herself to be embraced by Judy, holding onto the woman, grateful for the solace.  Her attention wavers to some students are sitting against the wall.  They are telling stories.  A name drifts by Naomi.  Her own name.  “Judy, am… am I dead?” Naomi blinks, rapidly. Judy nods. “NOOOOO!”  Naomi began to wail and cling to Judy.  She trembled with each sobs. “There there, I know.“  Judy holds the girl tight, rocking her.  “Go ahead, sweetie, let it out.” Naomi cries for hours.  “How?” she squeaked. “Take this, baby-girl.“  Judy offered Naomi a silk, embroidered, handkerchief.  “How?’  You mean how did you die?” Naomi took the hanky, blowing her nose into it.  Folding and crumpling the tissue into her fist, Naomi wipes her tears with her shirt sleeve. “Remember when you went on your walk, yesterday?”  Judy, frankly, explained.  “You were hit by a car crossing the street.  The driver was drunk and going too fast.  By the time the police and ambulance arrived, your life was over.  I’m sorry, Naomi.” “Sorry?”  Naomi stared.   Judy nodded.  “Yes.  It’s a tragedy whenever a life so young is lost.  That’s why all your friends and classmates are like this.  They’re mourning.” “Mourning.”  Naomi repeated, then blinked, furrowing her brow.  “Is this Heaven?  Shouldn't I be in Heaven?  What is all this?” “No, this isn’t Heaven.  ”  Judy said.  “All we know about heaven, is that it is paradise.  But different people have different ideas on what that paradise is.  Like a city person would imagine Heaven to be a big city, with lots of buildings and streets of gold and people everywhere.  A country person might see Heaven as a beautiful garden.  Heaven can be something different to everyone, based on who's imagining it.  The only thing we know for certain, is that Heaven is a place where there is no pain or suffering.  As for what it physically looks like, the living cannot know.” “Is God here?”  Naomi asked.  “Am I going to meet Him?  Does He even exist?” “Oh, God exists.”  Judy explained.  “God is everywhere and everything.  It knows all, sees all, and does all.  In a way, you've already met it.” “It?  I thought God is a man.” “God is everywhere and everything.  Why shouldn't God be male and female or even a gender God chooses for itself?  God decides all things, right?” “I guess.”  Naomi slumped on her bench.   “Yes.”  Judy explained.  I am one of the guardian angels.   Do you know what a guardian angel is?” “Yeah.“  Naomi sat up, nodding.  “They are angels that are specifically designed to protect and guard the living .  My grand-”  Naomi choked back a sob.  “My gran-gran told me that for every blade of grass in there world, there is a guardian angel. ” “That's right.”  Judy pats Naomi on the shoulder.   “Is there something I'm supposed to do?  How do I...?”  Naomi trailed off. “I’ll show you what to do and how to do it,.  When you find who you're supposed to take care of you’ll take it from there and go off on your own.”  Judy returned.   “Thank you.”  Naomi felt small and numb. “Have faith, sweetie.”  Judy smiled.  “Everything will work itself out.  You'll see.” “Mmmm”  Naomi whined, “I don't want to be alone.  Since your the only one that can see or hear me, c-can I stay with you?” “Of course, honey.”  Judy smiled hope.  “I'll be more than happy to help you. Me and Grandpa.” “Grandpa?”  Naomi asked. “Grandpa Fred.  My father's father.”  Judy chirped.  “He takes care of my sister.  Tressa's mother.” Naomi went quiet for a bit.  “Do guardian angels always guard their families?” “Not always.“  Judy bit her bottom lip.  “Grandpa was guarded by great-grandpa's old army buddy.  Angels can wind up guarding anyone.” “How...”  Naomi started and gave up, defeated. “It's all new and shocking, now.“  Judy encouraged  “Give yourself time.  You'll feel better, soon.” “If you say so.”  Naomi stated. “Time,”  Judy intoned, patting Naomi on the back.  “It'll get better and eventually, someday, you'll be ready to take care of someone yourself.  You'll see.”   Judy got up from the bench to follow Tressa, as she wandered down the hall.  Naomi rose, shuffling along after her.  By the end of the day, she was still miserable.   Joining Tressa on her bus, Judy sensed Naomi's mood.  “Maybe you'd like to give yourself a little makeover?” “Makeover?”  Naomi half-whispered. “If you close your eyes and concentrate, you can make yourself appear older, more mature.”  Judy explained.  “Like you would look if you had lived to adulthood.” Naomi stared past Judy. “Give it a try,”  Judy chirped.  “You don't want to look like a scrawny, awkward, teenager, forever, do you?” Naomi sighed resignation.  She closed her eyes.  Forcing herself to focus, she imagined herself older.  Like if she was in her mid-twenties instead of her mid-teens.   “Very nice.”  Judy crooned after a few minutes. Naomi opened her eyes.  Still blah.  She glanced in the mirror above the bus driver.  “Huh.”  She mused,  “I look a little like my mom.” “Feel better?”  Judy asked.   Naomi paused.  “A little,” she admitted.   “You'll be okay, honey.”  Judy smiled. After a short ride, Naomi and Judy departed the bus at Tressa's stop.  Tressa slung her bag over her shoulder, hopped down the steps, landing with both feet on the pavement below.  Judy and Naomi descended the bus with a little more dignity.  From there, Tressa walked to her apartment with her head down and her hand in her pocket, fumbling for the right key.  Naomi couldn’t keep herself from chuckling at the odd way Tressa moved and walked.  It was as if the girl were in a world of her own.   Naomi couldn't help but laugh at the antics of the girl.  Suddenly, she stood face to face with heavy steel. “HEY!”  Naomi pounded on the door. “Not a problem.”  Judy took Naomi’s hand and passed through the door.  “A locked door is no problem for us.” “Oh.”  Naomi mumbled, then blushed.   “MOM, I’M HOME!“  Tressa entered her apartment and dropped her bag on the floor.   Not hearing an answer, Tressa found a note and some money on the kitchen table.  Tressa shrugged, tossing the note out.  Tressa grabbed a can.  She left the money for her mom to reclaim later.  Then, she started her homework. Naomi was surprised at the speed with which Tressa worked.  “It used to take me forever to do all my work.   How does she do it?” “Tressa has an odd mind.”  Judy explained.  “Most of what she writes down for notes and in class, she remembers.  So, she doesn’t bother too much with the textbook.” Tressa turned on the TV and sacked-out on the couch. Naomi and Judy joined her,.  “So, is there anything else for us to do, besides hanging with the person we’re supposed to take care of?” “Not really.”  Judy replied.  “It’s pretty boring being dead.” “Is there anyway we can interact or communicate with Tress?”  Naomi wondered aloud “To a certain degree,”  Judy commented,“ if the person you're taking care of is really sensitive, we can leave some impressions.  You've heard of instinct?” Naomi nodded.   The front door opened,  Tressa’s mother entered the apartment, followed by a middle-aged gentleman with a paunch and bib overalls.  While Tressa and her mother greeted one another, Judy ran over to her grandfather, and gave the man a big hug.  Naomi hung back, fidgeting. “Grandpa!”  Judy exclaimed.   “SPROUT!”  Judy’s grandfather returned her hug, then, he noticed Naomi.  He straightened his posture,  then took his big, floppy, straw hat into his hands, and ran hand through his salt and pepper hair.  “Ma’am.” “Hi, I’m Naomi.”   Naomi extended her hand towards the man. “Nice to meet you.” Fred wiped his hand on the front of his coveralls before shaking hands with Naomi.   “Name’s Fred.” “I met Judy at Tressa’s school.  I was student there.”  Naomi explained. Fred nodded.  “I understand.  Has Judy been helping you out?  Explaining everything?” “Yes, Judy was very kind and helpful, sir.” Naomi answered.  “I don’t think I could have made it without her.” “That's a good girl.”  Fred beamed at Judy.  “You do not have to call me sir ma'am. Call me Fred, miss.” “Sure.”  Naomi returned Fred's infectious smile.  “Call me Naomi.”   Naomi studied the man before her.  He had the appearance and subtle accent of an early 20th century midwestern farmer, yet not as old as she expected him to be.  “E-excuse me s-, I mean, Fred,”  Naomi tried,“ if you're Judy's grandfather, shouldn't you be older?” “Didn't Judy explained the age trick?”  Fred’s eyes twinkled at Naomi's nod.  He replaced his hat.  “It works for us old folks, too.”  He brushed his knuckles along his temple, careful not to knock off his hat.  “How do I look, Naomi?” “Fine, Fred.“  Naomi blushed.  “I was a little upset when I found out I had died.” “Everybody is.”  Fred grinned.  “You should have seen Judy.  She was crying like a baby.” “I was a baby, Grandpa.”  Judy chuckled.  “He loves telling that joke.”   Naomi joined in on the laugh with Fred and Judy.   “I was stillborn,”  Judy explained, staring off into the distance.  “Mom developed, something called, preeclampsia .”  Judy looked down.  “Neither Mom nor me were the same afterwards.” “Did Judy tell you about finding your own person to guard, Naomi?”  Fred changed the subject.   Naomi shook her head, grateful to leave Judy to her sad memory. “Basically,”  Fred began,“ every person is on a journey; a path they could follow.  Other people pass by or cross that path.  Doctors, teachers, fellow students, co-workers, passersby on the street.  A person could come into contact with countless people as they go through life.” Naomi nods, considering. “At some point,”  Fred continued, “while you and Judy are working together to take care of Tressa, she will come into contact with someone that needs you as their angel.  When that time comes, you'll go off with that person, leaving Judy and Tressa.” “How will I know, if I'll supposed to go with somebody.”  Naomi asked. “It's difficult to explain,”  Fred affirmed.  “You'll know.  Trust.  Judy will help.  And I will, too, for as long as I can.” “For as long as you can?”  Naomi was confused. Fred nodded.  “I am responsible for Tressa's mother.  Tressa is a child.  Tressa will grow up, move away,  live her own life.  When that happens, you and Judy will go with her, but I will have to stay.” Naomi frowned. “But...” “That's the way it is.”  Fred shrugged.  “You'll be okay.  It won't be forever.  Tressa , in her adult age, will visit her mother.  When she visits, we can visit.” “Mmmm,” Naomi grunted, understanding. “And then,” Fred reminded,“ when Tressa and you meet the person you are to take care of, you'll go off to take care of them.” Naomi nodded, solemnly.  It was overwhelming, a lot to take in.  She elected to let the information sit.  Whatever happens, will happen.  She'll trust and have faith.  She'll figure it out.   For the moment, she was grateful to have Fred and Judy around.  Naomi doubted that she could do this if she was alone.  She managed a ghost of a smile, her thoughts drifting. ~~~~ As Tressa  matured, the camaraderie between the three guardian angels had grown.  When they weren’t protecting Tressa or her mother they would keep themselves entertained.  Fred would share stories and slyly inappropriate jokes.  Judy would sing; Naomi would dance.  Naomi felt like one of the family.  She regarded  Fred as grandpa and Judy as auntie.  It was as if she had always belonged.   One day, Tressa was an adult and found herself with a job and a place all her own.  She was collecting the last of her things from her old home.  Her mother stood by watching, a wadded tissue in her hands.  Both mother and child reassured each other that things would be all right.  Tressa promised to visit; her mother promised Tressa  she would always have a home with her.  Unseen by the living, the dead were sharing farewells of their own.   Tears fell.  Embraces tightened.  Judy and Naomi each gave Fred a kiss on either side of his face.  None wanted to part; yet, that always happens when children grow up.  Fred honked his nose into a red hankie with white polka-dots, then clapped the girls on their shoulders.  “You’d better go,” his gravel voice, said.  “You don’t want to lose track of Tressa.” “We won’t lose her, Grandpa.”  Judy reassured. Naomi dabbed her eyes with her sleeve.  “I don’t want to go.” “I know, baby-girl.“  Fred patted Naomi on the shoulder.  “But you’ll be okay.  You’re both fine, smart girls.  You’ll be fine.  Besides, this goodbye may not be forever.” Naomi hugged Fred.  “Hmmm.”  She whined. “Chin up.”  Fred said.  “Tressa will come back to visit her mother.  When they visit, we’ll visit.” “That’s right.”  Judy joined Naomi in hugging Fred. Tressa climbed into her car, starting it.  Judy and Naomi, reluctantly, released Fred, and crammed themselves into the vehicle alongside Tressa’s stuff.  The girls hung out the window, waving, as they drove away.  “Hope to see you soon, Grandpa!”   “Good luck, girls!”  Fred returned the wave.  “And trust God!” ~~~~ Tressa was speeding towards work.  Judy and Naomi were in the backseat.  All were anxious and tense. “Why didn’t you remind her to set her alarm?!”  Judy hissed. “I can only do so much!”  Naomi spit back.  “She’s so scatterbrained to begin with, it’s hard to get the right frequency to reach her.” Judy scanned the vista.  “I just hope we don’t run into a - -” A siren sounds.  Tressa checks her rear view mirror, curses, and pulls the car over. “Cop.”  Both angels buried their faces in their hands. “Maybe we can beat the ticket.”  Naomi sounded more hopeful than she was. “Unlikely,” Judy responded.  “We were really flying.  I hope she doesn’t lose her job over the ticket.” “Yeah.”  Naomi nodded.  “Last time she got a ticket, her boss said that if she got any more points on her license, she’d be fired.” The angels quieted, watching Tressa roll down her window to talk to the officer. “License, proof of insurance, and registration, ma’am.”  The cop stated. “Y-yes, sir,”  Tressa whimpered.  “It’s all in my glove box.” Tressa watched the cop nod, then reached for the information.  With all documents in hand, the officer walked back to his vehicle.  Tressa took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “She really hates the idea of being in trouble, doesn't she?”  commented Naomi. “Been that way all her life.,”  replied Judy.  “If her parents called her or if she'd been sent to the principal’s office she'd blow the situation up in her mind.  She’d be terrified.  Fear kept her from a lot of things.” Naomi blinked.  “Why’s she so scared?” Judy shrugged an answer.  The angels watched, anxious, as the policeman made his slow walk back to Tressa's window,.  All three of the girls had their fingers crossed and all their faces fell, when a ticket was included in the documents. Tressa smiled, crookedly. “Thank you, sir.”  She tossed the papers onto her passenger seat, put the car in gear, and drove away at a much slower speed. “But why?”  Naomi still didn’t understand.  “The worst that could happen here is she gets a ticket.” “You and I know that,”  Judy said.  “But in Tressa’s mind, she’s getting a ticket, being arrested, taken to jail, facing a judge, and being sentenced to life in prison.” “What’s that?”  Naomi noticed some writing on the back of the ticket.  She manipulated the wind to turn the ticket over.  “Traffic School…” “Traffic school?”  Judy peered over Naomi’s shoulder to read.  “If Tressa attends traffic school, she can remove points from her license.” “Mmm.“  Naomi nodded, glancing toward Tressa’s intent expression.  “The paper’s in a good position for her to see it when she stops and picks it up.” “Mmm-hmm.”  Judy agreed.  “She needs to read this.” Tressa parked and ran, on foot, into her job.  Five minutes later, she reappeared, face red, head down, and tears streaming down her cheeks. Judy frowned. “Not good.” “At least they didn’t fire her.”  Naomi said. “Yes.”  Judy agreed.  “It was considered a no call/no show.  She can’t do that anymore.” Tressa bent to get back into her car and Judy tapped the upside down speeding ticket laying on the seat.  Tressa noticed the paper.  She picked it up, read it, flipped it over, and came to a decision.  “Traffic School…”  she murmured.   Traffic School was basically a condensed version of Driver’s Education.  It  takes place over the course of a single day.  They go over the Rules of the Road, administer written and driving tests. Any violations get either wiped completely from a driver’s record or lessened.  There was a fee for the course, but the cost would be the same as if she paid the ticket outright.   Tressa drove home to call the number on the back of the ticket to get directions and a schedule for the next session of the Traffic School.  The next class day was two days away, on payday.  Tressa decided to go for the class and swung by  the Department of Motor Vehicles to pick up the class book. Until the day of traffic School, Naomi and Judy focused hard, to make sure Tressa studied.  Most of the time, Tressa was reliable.  But she could get easily distracted.  With her, Judy and Naomi had to keep on their toes. Finally, the day of Traffic School arrived and a miracle occurred.   She awoke bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, a half hour before her alarm.  Judy and Naomi were flabbergasted.  Even the drive to the school went smooth.  (Tressa can get so unsure of herself, she becomes daffy with directions, getting lost easily).  The only explanation Judy and Naomi could come up with:  something special was about to happen.  They decided to sit back, and watch what happens next. Tressa arrived at the class early.  She wanted the seat closest to the door,.  However, there was already someone else there.  Something about this person seemed interesting to both Tressa and Naomi.  Judy noticed, but didn’t think anything of it.  It was rare for Tressa to seek friendship.  When she felt compelled to make a new friend, if Judy didn’t feel any danger, she encouraged it.  Judy assumed Naomi was interested, because Tressa was.  Either way, she let the encounter happen. “Hi.”  Tressa was polite.  Tressa would never think or say that someone was strange, since Tressa had been teased so much about being weird.  Still, the person before her was unique:  clearly female, but her style was very masculine.  Tressa took an immediate liking to the strange girl.   “Sup”came the reply. Both Judy and Tressa leaned in.  “I don’t get this guy,.”  Judy mused to Naomi. “Girl.”  Naomi stated. “Girl?“  Judy blinked at Naomi.  “How can you tell?  It looks like a man.” “I don’t know,”  Naomi remained firm, “but that’s a girl.” “My name’s Tressa.”  Tressa smiled.  Guy or girl, it didn't matter.  This person was interesting.  That was all Tressa cared about.  Tressa knew they would be friends. “Frieda.”  The girl introduced herself. Naomi grinned with pride.  “Told ya.”  Naomi taunted. “So you did.”  Judy rolled her eyes.  “What else do you know about her?” “Hard to tell.”  Naomi wrinkled her brow.  “Something about her makes me sad.  She’s been through a lot and hasn’t really had anyone there to help or do anything or keep her safe.” “What do you mean?”  Judy puzzled. “I…”  Naomi frowned at the floor.  “I think I might go with her at the end of Traffic School.” Judy’s jaw dropped, then she set it, again.  “If you’re sure.” “Yeah.”  Naomi wiped a tear from her eye.  “I’m sorry, but I am sure.” “You have nothing to be sorry about.”  Judy put an arm around Naomi.  “You have to go where you have to go.  It’s okay.  I understand.” “Thank you.“  Naomi returned Judy’s hug.  “I’m going to miss you.” “I know.”  Judy patted Naomi on the shoulder, then noticed the way Tressa and Frieda were interacting.  “Maybe you won’t miss me too much.” “What do you mean?”  Naomi wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Judy pointed. “They seem to like each other.  Maybe they'll hang out and be friends.”   It was Naomi’s turn for her jaw to hang open.  “Has Tressa ever reacted like that with anyone else?” Judy shook her head.  “Not that I’ve seen.  Tressa’s always been shy.  She’s never the first person to greet someone new.” “Look at that!“  Naomi beamed when she saw Tressa and Frieda exchange numbers, email, and addresses.   “I can see.”  Judy squealed in delight.  Her hopes were lifting.  Judy hoped she wasn't fooling herself. Something in her said that she was seeing magic happen.  She had grown with Naomi.  It was bittersweet to say goodbye. When Frieda got up at the end of class, Naomi, Tressa, and Judy joined her.  When the four girls reached the parking lot,  the living and the dead shared hugs.  The living shared new friendship and joy.  The dead expressed farewell and sorrow.   The four parted and separated into couples, both going their own ways. Everyone needs help, sometimes.  There are angels; enough guardian angels for all the blades of grass in the world.

WHUMPTOBER 2020

No. 15

Fandom: Avengers

Whumpee: Tony Stark

Caregiver: Bruce Banner

Title: Mors Tua, Vita Mea

By: PenPatronus // PenPatronusAooO 

Author’s Note: “Mors Tua, Vita Mea” is a Latin phrase that translates into “Your Death, My Life.” The context is that your own death is vital for your victory. In this story, someone must die to get what he wants.

Under the moonlight, and a single flickering lightbulb hanging over the garage, Bruce loaded the first crate of vials, beakers, and chemistry textbooks into the back of the Stark Industries van. Headlights suddenly streamed down the normally empty road. It was three in the morning, in rural Pennsylvania, in the middle of nowhere, so there shouldn’t have been a corvette coming up the driveway. But, there was. And Bruce knew who it was. “Dammit,” he cursed.

 Tony pulled up beside the van, glaring at Bruce, and slowly rolled the driver’s side window down.

 “How the hell did you find me?” Bruce asked. “I dumped my phone, I turned off the GPS in the van, I didn’t use a credit card, I avoided cameras, I even changed my clothes and shoes and – how the hell?”

 “Don’t change the subject,” Stark snarled. He held up a piece of paper with Bruce’s handwriting on it. “What the hell is this?”

 Bruce harumphed and stormed back into the garage of the abandoned house. He kicked the generator he had lighting the place up and returned to the task of packing up his supplies. Tony slammed the car door shut and followed him inside. “Dear Tony,” Tony said, not even reading off the letter but reciting it, “Dear Tony, I’m leaving. It’s for the best. Don’t come looking for me because there won’t be anything to find. BB.” Tony kicked the same generator Bruce did, out of the same amount of anger. “Dammit, Banner, what’s going on? Talk to me!”

 Bruce emptied a beaker of rubbing alcohol down a drain in the middle of the garage floor. “I figured out how to destroy the Hulk,” he said without looking at his friend.

 “Uh, huh…” Tony put his hands in his suit pockets and squeezed them into fists. “You mean, you’ve found a way to kill yourself.”

 “If that’s the way you choose to think about it, then that’s on you.”

 “The way I CHOOSE to THINK about it?” Tony exclaimed. “I’m THINKING that one of my best friends is committing suicide. That’s what I’m thinking.” Tony grabbed the beaker out of Bruce’s hand and put it on a workbench next to the rest of a bunch of chemistry supplies. It was hard not to throw it against the wall. He reached for his friend’s shoulders. “Hey, look at me. Bruce, I’m talking to you!”

 To both of their surprise, Bruce pushed Tony away, hard enough to send him stumbling a few steps. “It’s too late,” Bruce snarled. He pointed at a rickety old card table and a packet of needles beside a tiny vial of liquid. “I figured it out. And I already took the injection. And… I can feel it working.”

 “You did what?” Tony looked around the garage. “Where’s the antidote? You have to have an antidote. Where is it – tell me, Bruce – take it and stop this!”

 “Tony, I didn’t make an antidote, because there’s no need for one!” He whirled around and started packing up his laptop. “I created nanites that bind to the cells and basically… Eat them. They’re working so fast that Hulk can’t heal them.”

 Behind him, Tony sighed and asked, “How long do you have?”

 “Hours. Maybe.”

 “Good. That’ll give you enough time to come up with an antidote.”

 The hairs on the back of Bruce’s neck stood on end. He whirled around in time to see Tony finish injecting himself with the concoction. 

“No!” Bruce sprinted forward and knocked the needle out of his grip. “Tony, are you crazy?” He grabbed his friend by the shoulders and shook him. “You just killed yourself!”

 “Not if you create an antidote,” Tony said, his voice suddenly clear of the menace of a minute ago. “An antidote I won’t take, unless you take it first.”

 Tears sprung to Bruce’s eyes. “You complete and utter idiot! I only have hours to go because Hulk is healing me. This thing will decimate your body in less than an hour! How am I supposed to reprogram the nanites in that amount of time?”

 Tony wrapped his hands around Bruce’s wrists, whose hands were still on his friend’s shoulders. “Then you better get to work, huh?”

 “You son of a bitch!” Bruce cried. “What am I supposed to tell the team? What am I supposed to tell Pepper!”

 Tony made a show of looking at his watch. “Tick, tock, my friend.”

 “Ugh!” Bruce went back to his desk and got his equipment up and running again. “Tony, you gotta help me with this. For as long as you can.”

 “All right.” Stark tossed his suit jacket aside and loosened his tie. “Where do I start?”

 “How’s your biochemistry?”

 “Subpar.”

 “Fan-fucking-tastic.”

 Tony made it a half hour. By then most of his skin was a red rash and he couldn’t stand up anymore. Bruce took him by the elbow and helped him sit down with his back against the garage wall. There were words he wanted to say – so many – but there was no time. Tony started coughing up blood.

“All right… Ok…” Bruce pushed his glasses up higher on his nose. “I’m in the code, now. Now I just need to reprogram the nanites to…” Bruce punched his fist on the table. “It can’t be anything complicated. Simple command to follow so they’ll stop right away.” Bruce went and knelt beside Tony. He cupped his chin and turned his eyes to meet his own. “Tony… I don’t know what to do.”

 Tony’s bloodshot eyes blinked at him. With bloody, chapped lips, he whispered, “You said you programmed them to eat the cells. Now you should program them to eat something else. Something like…”

 “Each other,” Bruce realized.

 “Hmm,” Tony hummed.

 Bruce rushed back to his computer. Behind him, Tony slumped to the floor.

 ----------

 Tony wasn’t sure how long he was out, but it was daylight outside the garage when he woke up. He was still lying on his side where he fell. Carefully, convinced it would fall off if he went too fast, he held his hand up to his face. The rash was gone. He curled his fingers and rotated his wrist. Normal.

 “You died,” Bruce said from his left. “Just for a few moments.”

 Tony slowly sat up with his hand against his head. There was a little leftover pain. “That happens to me a lot.”

 “Yeah, it does.” Bruce ambled over with a bottle of water. “And it doesn’t get any easier watching you die, you know?”

 “Bruce… How did it feel? When I died? Every time I die?”

 “Devastating.”

 “And you want to put me through that same feeling when I lose you? You want to cause me that kind of pain?”

 “No, of course not.”

 “Then take. The damn. Antidote.”

 Bruce held up a syringe. “Already did.”

 A relieved Tony leaned hard back against the wall and looked up at the ceiling. “Thank you.”

 Bruce snorted. “Thank you for not killing myself?”

 “Wasn’t talking to you but, yeah, thank you for not killing yourself.”

 Bruce ambled over and sat against the wall beside Tony. “Do me a favor.”

 “Hmm?”

 “Don’t tell the team about this. Especially Natasha.”

 “Because she might kill you herself?”

 “Because she might kill me herself, yes.”

 “Do me a favor.”

 “What’s that?”

 “Don’t ever do this again.” Tony looked at his friend. “Swear it, Banner. Swear it on something important.”

 “Something important, huh?” Bruce patted Tony’s chest. “Then I swear it on you.”

 The End

If you’re still doing the writing thing.. 18? With neil in the picture? (Cause i really hate myself) 💕 love your writing as always✨😍

18. “Maybe I’m better off alone.”

steve sighs, kneeling on the ground next to billy. wraps his hand carefully. tries to keep his expression perfectly neutral.

“other guy make it out okay?”

billy cuts him a glare. “i didn’t fuckin’ kill him, harrington. if that’s what you’re asking.”

“of course not,” steve tells him. sighs again. “you wouldn’t kill anyone. just...making sure he’s not on the ground choking in his own blood somewhere. wouldn’t be a very pretty sight to come across, yeah?”

“i know you’re joking, but in order for something to be a joke, it has to actually be - y’know. funny.”

steve gives billy a long look, before securing the bandages around his hand. pats his knuckles with a feather-light touch, before putting billy’s hand back in his lap.

a moment later, once he’s cleaned the blood off the immaculate white tiles of his bathroom floor, steve sinks down to the ground next to billy. slumps against the wall and rests his head in his hands.

“you gonna tell me what happened, or do i just have to paint a pretty picture with my mind?” steve finally asks, peering over at billy.

billy’s eyes are still fixed on the wall in front of him, his mind seemingly a million miles away. he shrugs after a beat, and steve can see him gnawing on the inside of his cheek.

“does it matter?”

steve makes a face. “of course it matters. it matters to me.”

“oh, okay. yeah. me beating ass because my shitbag father won’t quit beating mine is somehow your fuckin’ problem,” billy spits, grimacing.

“that what happened?” steve asks, quiet as ever. sucks in a breath when billy shrugs. “did he hurt you?”

“nah, he gave me a beer and took me to a football game,” billy says with a roll of his eyes. “‘course he - that’s what he does. but at least it’s me and not max.”

steve chews on his bottom lip. his brows are drawn together so tightly that it’s giving him a bit of a headache. but he just - he fucking hates this. he hates that billy has resigned himself to this.

it’s not fair, really. that billy comes to him to be patched up after a fight, unloading the horrific nightmare of a home life he lives, then expecting steve not to care. wanting him to not care.

because honestly, that’s simply never going to fucking happen.

steve cares about billy, probably far too much. probably a whole hell of a lot more than billy cares about him. but ever since they struck up this tentative friendship - this friendship that has blossomed into something more, something steve still doesn’t understand - steve just can’t seem to help himself.

the more broken pieces of himself that billy reveals, the more steve’s heart bleeds for him. maybe he’s just soft, or just a sucker for someone in need, but steve is kind of past caring at this point. he just - all he wants is billy out of that house.

steve has a feeling that once billy is free, several things will start to change for the better. nothing will be perfect, not ever, but things will get better.

they have to.

“you should stay with me,” steve blurts. his cheeks heat up instantly. “i mean - until you’re 18. then you could - you could get your own place. or something. if you want.”

billy gives him a measured look. turns his gaze back to the nail he’d been picking at, shrugging yet again.

this feigned nonchalance is really starting to rub steve the wrong way.

“i’m offering you an out, but it’s not charity,” steve tells him. maybe he’s a little desperate, but it doesn’t matter at this point. “or pity. i just. i don’t want to keep doing this.”

“no one ever said you had to say yes, harrington.”

“don’t call me that,” steve snaps. casts his eyes up at the ceiling, shaking his head. “i meant i don’t want to keep having to do this. things will be better. once you’re out. you won’t - this shit won’t have to happen once you’re away from him.”

“you think, what. i’m just going to fundamentally change as a person just ‘cause my father isn’t beating me within an inch of my life every day?” billy asks, snorting softly. “you’re delusional, steve. i am who i am. no goddamn living situation is gonna change that.”

“but it could change something!” steve cries, throwing his hands up. “it could be better. you don’t know that things would just stay the same.”

“you don’t know that things would change.”

steve curses under his breath. grits his teeth and clenches his fists. “i think things would - ”

billy cuts him off, still staring at his hands when he says, “i think - i think maybe i’m better off alone.”

if it were possible for the world to stop turning, steve thinks it probably would have at that precise moment. his brain takes far longer than it should to process billy’s words.

but when it finally does, steve is in front of him in half a second. takes both of billy’s hands in his, ignoring the look of disdain on billy’s face. steve searches his eyes, torn between despair and fury that billy could ever think any of this could make him worth any less.

steve tells him as much. follows it up with, “none of this will ever make you less deserving of kindness, or compassion, or - or whatever the fuck other good things there are out there. just ‘cause you got dealt a shit hand doesn’t mean you have to go it alone. and you’re not getting rid of me any time soon, so you might as well nip that dream in the bud.”

billy avoids his eyes for a long moment. when he finally meets them, something inside of steve crumbles. because billy - for the first time since steve has known him - just looks lost and broken. defeated.

“truth is,” billy starts, his voice gravelly. he pauses, blinking back what might be tears, but steve isn’t really sure. “truth is, i don’t know how to - what i’m supposed to do with any of this shit. i dunno how to do anything besides take it.”

“maybe it’s time to learn new ways of dealing with it,” steve tells him, his eyes softening. “but you don’t have to do it by yourself. i meant that.”

billy considers his words for a moment. he finally nods, ever-so-slightly, and squeezes one of steve’s hands. “i can’t just - you know. move out. but when it gets bad i can - uh. i can crash here. if you want me to.”

“only if you want to,” steve tells him, smiling softly. “my door’s always open.”

before billy can say anything, steve raises both of billy’s hands to his lips. gives each set of knuckles a gentle kiss, before releasing his hands completely. billy keeps them outstretched for a moment, his eyebrows practically at his hairline.

steve snorts, trying to suppress his grin. “oh, what. like you’re surprised? please.”

the smile billy gives him is soft and surprisingly warm. it makes steve’s heart flutter. “about you liking me? nah. everybody likes me. but about you doing something about it? very. you’re kind of a pussy.”

steve’s mouth drops open, ready to object. but he grins when he frogs billy on the shoulder, keeping his touch gentle. giggles, and tells him, “you’re such an ass. i take back my invitation, you’re banned for life.”

“hey, don’t go stealing my catch phrases,” billy admonishes, but he’s struggling to smother his own smile. “i worked hard to cultivate those.”

“yeah, yeah. whatever you say.”

“you’re the one who revoked access to your house,” billy says, sticking his tongue out at him. “which, by the way - there aren’t any take-backs. you’re stuck with me.”

steve scoots forward. plays with one of billy’s stray curls, trying to shake this shy and bashful feeling that’s suddenly filling him up.

billy isn’t shy and bashful. he doesn’t do shy and bashful. and steve is slowly starting to realize that his feelings are matched. he doesn’t have to hold back if he doesn’t want to.

so he doesn’t. steve leans in, covering billy’s lips with his own. billy actually - the cutest fucking noise escapes his lips, just before steve seals theirs together. it’s kind of like a squeak, and steve is pretty sure it’s the cutest fucking thing he’s ever heard in his entire life.

billy shifts forward, deepening the kiss. his hands find the lapels of steve’s jacket, curling into the fabric and tugging him even closer. he kisses steve until his head is spinning, until steve is pretty sure they’re both going to pass out.

but honestly, steve wouldn’t be too upset about that. he’ll take it, if it means he never has to stop kissing him. billy’s stubble rubs against the smooth softness of his skin, and he knows there’s going to be some beard-burn left in its wake. but he’s beyond okay with that, too.

“stuck with you, huh?” steve asks when they break apart, resting his forehead against billy’s. he tries to meet his eyes but goes cross-eyed in the process, pulling an easygoing laugh from billy.

“yup. better get used to it.”

steve kisses the tip of his nose, shaking his head. stands and pulls billy up off the ground, then crowds into his space. tucks his face into billy’s neck, letting his eyelids flutter shut.

“wouldn’t have it any other way.”

send me a number + a pairing!

[black eyes and busted lips]

Day 21: "I missed you.” #twdgdrabblechallenge

Note: This took so long to finish. I had two different ideas for this that I tried to combine but it wasn’t working so I had to rewrite it. Anyway, here’s some more Mitch. 

AO3

---

Justin’s in his bed. 

Which is bullshit because Justin has his own damn bed not even five steps away, a bed that he hasn’t even slept in for the past two weeks! 

But no, he’s lying face first in Mitch’s pillow, spread out across Mitch’s mattress, and rolled up in Mitch’s blanket. 

He’s never wanted to kick Justin’s ass as hard as he does now, and that’s saying a lot. 

After the initial shock of the sight before him, Mitch makes sure to slam the door shut extra hard, the wooden frame vibrating with such force that it makes Justin jump, but not much. He keeps his face hidden in the pillow and groans. 

“Hey, dipshit,” Mitch scowls. “What the hell are you doing?”

No response. 

Mitch kicks the frame. 

“That’s my bed.”

“Don’t see your name on it,” Justin snaps back without any real bite, words partially muffled by the pillow. 

“My name-” Is he fucking serious? 

Justin socks him in the face and then doesn’t talk to him for two whole fucking weeks- two weeks!- goes out of his way to completely avoid Mitch, going as far as to sleep in one of the empty rooms by himself, and now he’s back and curled up in his bed? 

No, he doesn’t just get to do that after the shit he’s pulled. 

Gripping the blanket, Mitch yanks it off.

Justin doesn’t move, but he lightly shivers, curling in on himself.

Fuck.

Rolling onto his back, Justin stares up at the top bunk, forcing himself to avoid Mitch’s hard stare rubbing his face with his hands. The spotting of healed over wounds still kiss his knuckles, red and angry. 

Arms folded over his chest, Mitch kicks the frame again. 

“What the fuck are you doing?”  Mitch demands, forcing his voice deeper, an attempt at being intimidating.

Justin’s dark eyes dart towards him quick beneath the mess of curls, but the weariness weighs heavy in them and through the contours of his thin face.  

“Hiding,” he answers quietly, unnaturally timid. 

Fuck. 

Mitch doesn’t even need any more of an answer. 

After the whole thing with Minnie blew up in Justin’s face- just like Mitch said it would- the news spread around the school just as fast as Minnie could run her mouth. 

It started out small and truthful: Justin asked Minnie to teach him how to dance, then he kissed her. Minnie got mad, pushed him away, and stormed out. 

By the time it got to Mitch, the story was that Justin professed his undying love for Minnie with a terrible dance, shoved his entire tongue down her throat, and cried when Minnie kicked him in the nuts. Then, Mitch confronted him about it because, apparently, he’s in love with her now, too- Jesus fucking Christ- and their little fight in the courtyard was about Minnie’s honor and affection and nothing else. 

And that’s just one of the stupid fucking versions. 

A miserable two weeks on all levels, but he didn’t bother explaining himself to the others. He wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction of taking his words out of context to play their little drama-filled game of telephone. 

He knows why he wrote that shit all over Ericson, he knows why that fight broke out between them, why he busted Justin’s lip open and tackled him to the ground, he knows why he’s pissed off. 

He does. 

Justin’s an asshole. That’s why. That’s the reason. 

Mitch’s got nothing to prove to anybody, no reason to explain himself. 

At least the others knew to leave him alone.

Justin wasn’t so lucky.

Most of the girls are avoiding him, opting to say nasty things about him rather than have any interaction with him. The guys were another story, most of them not caring about the stupid nonsense buzzing around and still willing to talk to Justin.

Except for Mitch. He hasn’t talked to him since the fight.

Never a dull fucking moment at Ericson.

Their room is quiet, awkwardly so, damn uncomfortable- Mitch has to roll his shoulders, turn away from the depressing sight of Justin and move. 

Justin’s gym bag rests on desk, dirty clothes pouring out from the opening along with a book- that’s where his bird book went the fucker- and something shiny. Snatching the book, Mitch inspects it for any sign of damage until a noticeable clang falls upon the wooden surface. 

A watch? 

A disgustingly expensive-looking watch, heavy with real silver and chip in the glass, one that Justin nor his family could ever afford in their lifetime. 

“What’s this?” 

The guilt is immediate.

“A watch, dumbass.”

“Uh-huh,” Mitch frowns. “Where’d you get it?”

“Found it.”

Justin’s good at a lot of things, theft being one of them, but he’s a shit liar and always has been. That paired with his sticky fingers is what got him sent here in the first place.

Mitch sighs, looking the watch over in hands in hopes of finding a name or something. A watch like this is usually engraved but not this one. Shit, he’d have to snoop around and see just where Justin “found” this later. 

He pockets it, waiting for Justin to throw a fit, but he doesn’t. He only stares at Mitch with such a despondent stare that Mitch wants to deck him in his stupid face, then maybe they could have matching black eyes. 

“How’s your face?” Justin asks suddenly as if reading his mind. Or maybe the bruising’s still that noticeable. “You can see, right?”

“Obviously.”

“I just mean it’s not swollen anymore, asshole,” Justin pulls himself up, slumping his shoulders, stare fixated on his hands. “I didn’t mean to hit you that hard.”

“Yes, you did.”

“...Yeah, but only because you’re a dick.”

“Oh, I’m a dick,” Mitch scoffs. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck you!” Justin’s off the bed, stumbling over the blanket curled up on the ground. “You wrote that shit all over the place! Everyone saw it! ‘Justin fucked a walker,’ God, what’s wrong with you!” 

“Yeah, well, you attacked me first!” 

“Because I knew you did it! And now Minnie won’t talk to me and every- everybody hates me-”

“Oh, shut up, no one hates you!”

“God, you’re so-” Justin chokes, and Mitch finally realizes that he’s crying. Justin falls back onto the bed, face in his hands as he sobs. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck-

That’s not-

He didn’t-

Justin wipes his nose on his sleeve, practically hyperventilating as he tries to breathe through his tears. Mitch is frozen, heart hammering too hard and brain malfunctioning with the question what am I supposed to do?

“I didn’t even kiss her,” Justin chokes out. “I tried to but she didn’t want to because she doesn’t like- she doesn’t like me and I got mad and kicked her out and then she told everyone and then you- you’re supposed to be my friend and you write shit like that for no reason because you think it’s funny-”

“I-”

“-and now no one wants to talk to me except fucking Louis and God, I hate him so, so, so much I-” Justin hiccups, eyes red and glossy as he motions towards Mitch “-I’m- I’m such-”

He’s off the bed again, and Mitch thinks he’s going to hit him, and he’s going to let him, but the impact isn’t what he expects. Instead of a fist colliding with his jaw, arms are wrapping around his waist and his chin tickles with the brush of soft curls. 

The heat of it, the contact, it melts through his clothes, his flesh, and seeps down into his bones. His pulse vibrates in his cheeks, blood pumping so fast he might pass out. 

“I fucking missed you, man,” Justin shakes his head, “even if you are an asshole and I hate you because I got no one else.”

What the fuck...?

What the fuck?

Mitch is hugging him back, he realizes, and it’s awkward and weird but it’s not terrible, not really. Except for the crying part, he could do without that. 

When Justin pulls back, he’s cold despite the heat staining his cheeks and neck. 

Justin slaps him. 

“Ow, fuck!” 

“That’s for being a prick,” Justin sniffles. 

A fuck you is on the tip of his tongue, but Mitch bites it back, reaching out and yanking on a chunk of Justin’s hair. 

“Hey!”

“That’s for the black eye.” 

They glare at each other, but that hostility breaks when one of them snorts out a laugh. Mitch doesn’t know if it’s him or not, but they’re chuckling together with only Justin’s swollen eyes and Mitch’s flushed cheeks remaining from the fight. 

“Sorry,” Justin wipes his eyes. “Didn’t mean to turn into such a girl.”

“Eh,” Mitch shrugs. “Not much different than you usually are.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“You’re like a clingy girlfriend.”

“Fuck you, don’t be gay.”

A jolt shoots through his gut, making him cough and quickly and loudly retaliate, “Then don’t be such a girl, dickwad!” 

“Jesus, okay,” Justin rolls his eyes, pushing him out of the way to begin filing his clothes back into their respective drawers. 

A sense of relief washes over him. 

Mitch wouldn’t ever tell him, not in a million goddamn year, that he had missed him, too. 

Justin, this little shit who thought he was six feet tall and unbreakable but really, was fragile, who felt impulses to take what wasn’t his and then would lie horribly about it when caught, who has lived in this room with him since their first days in this hellhole, who was too scared to move out because he hated being alone, who wanted nothing more than Minnie to look at him like he hung the moon in the sky and gave it it’s beautiful glow.

Justin, who was an asshole but who was also his best friend, whether he liked it or not. Who helped him take care of Willy even though he could barely stand the kid, who hated Louis for little to no reason just because, who once called Ruby a fat, hillbilly troll then cried when she whacked him with a wooden spoon so hard that it left a welt on his arm.

Justin, who liked comic books and kept a gross porn collection under his bed, who thought Almond Joys were the best candy bar in the world, who couldn’t shoot a bow straight to save his life, who gave Mitch a dumb book on birds, who told Mitch through his tears that he missed him. 

Justin, who Mitch had missed so damn much these past two weeks it nearly drove him to uncover that secret stash of booze Justin keeps under his bed and drink all of it, even if he loathes the taste of alcohol.

Justin...

“Can I have my watch back?”

“Your watch?”

“Finders keepers.”

“Well, in that case, I found it and it’s mine now,” Mitch smirks. “Finders keepers.”

“Asshole.”

Missed you, too, he thought. 

HC for reaction to MC learning how to make their favourite dish, but switched sugar for salt by accident for Masamune, Ieyasu, and Mitsunari please! I hope this hasn't been done before. Thank you and I love your writing!

OH POOR BB ;;;; I don’t know what their favorite dishes are so I’m just going to wing it

Mitsunari

The seaweed soup you made him looks fabulous, he nearly cried looking at it. That was five seconds ago, though. He since has taken a spoonful of it and put it in his mouth. He observes that it tastes… sweeter than most seaweed soup.

Granted, it’s not a whole lot of sweet on his taste buds, but that combined with the slippery texture of the seaweed kind of makes him sick. Also there’s pepper in this, he notes, watching the small spicy grains converge at the bottom of the bowl. It’s so weird.

“How is it, Mitsunari?” 

There you are, sitting across him with a look so hopeful and adorable. He’d swallow a sword to keep you happy if he must, so with the best of his abilities, he musters up the classic charming smile and offers his affirmation.

“Yes, it tastes very exquisite—COUGH!”

Neither of you expected him to choke on some seaweed, and in the midst of his constant coughs, Mitsunari loses control of his facial muscles and you realize how it doesn’t look like it tastes even the least exquisite. You place a cup of tea in his hand. As he drinks, you take a sip of your own dish and freeze. 

“I’m so sorry, Mitsunari! I swear, it’s the kitchen that needs to put labels up on their jars!!!”

He won’t reject extra comfort hugs and kisses. Sweet seaweed soup is pretty traumatically disgusting.

“It’s alright! As the old adage goes, it’s the effort, not the results that matter. Perhaps we should talk about this ‘label’ you mentioned. …I see. These ‘stickers’ sound like they are quite the useful item. Perhaps we should try and make a homemade version for the kitchen? I’d hate for you to give up cooking so fast.” 

Ieyasu

You’ve prepared yourself for this day. Cooking for your loved one is always kind of nerve-wracking because it’s your loved one—what if they hate what you’ve made for them? Also this is Ieyasu, and you know for a fact that Masamune occasionally cooks for him. Heck, it only took you one taste to fall in love with Masamune’s food. Your competition is fierce.

So when Ieyasu takes a slurp from your bowl of wasabi noodles and his eyebrows immediately scrunch up. 

it’s SWEET???? and there’s the wasabi kick he likes so much but it’s sweet? 

You know you’ve messed up one way or another. That’s a primal reaction right there. Ieyasu recovers his poker face a millisecond later, realizing he wants to avoid making you upset, but it’s too late. Slowly, he chews on the noodles, trying really really hard to break it down to its basest form so he can swallow it all. But you’re perceptive, and you persistently ask what’s wrong with the food, fully expecting him to tell you.

“Did you, uh, taste this before?”

Ah. Yes. You totally forgot. Between trying to figure out a new recipe, working with Sengoku era kitchen utensils, and getting scared that he won’t like the dish, you left out the one thing that every person should do while cooking. Taste test. 

Ieyasu watches as you slump against him, hiding your face in his shoulder. He pats you gently with one hand, the other, with his chopsticks, trying to salvage some of the meat from the sweet broth.

“Sounds just like you, mistaking sugar for salt. …Huh? Stop apologizing, stupid. I mean, it’s pretty bad, but I can still eat the meat and the tempura. I can eat anything as long as there’s wasabi, remember? …Don’t feel bad. It actually makes me really happy that you tried so hard, just for me.”  

Masamune

Masamune is working really hard for a couple of weeks now, and you feel like making something to perk him up in between paperwork duty. You know he’s an excellent cook, but you’re not so bad either, so you thought a dessert would do the trick. You recently discovered seaweed gelatin—kanten, it’s called—in the kitchen, and after some explanation from the staff, you’ve decided to make some azuki bean jelly. Sweets for the brain, right?

At first you thought impressing the chef is going to be difficult, but when you enter his quarters with a plate of beautiful square-cut jellies, he’s already beaming with enthusiasm.

“Is that dessert? Man, am I lucky. Thanks, Kitten.”

He’s admiring the presentation of your dish, even going as far as rocking the plate back and forth to watch the jelly jiggle. He’s all smiles and chuckles, even as he cuts up a portion from a square and put it in his mouth—

“How is it?”

He smiles at you, seemingly pleased, and you’re sighing a breath of relief. Masamune’s thoughtfully cutting up a piece of the jelly and brings it to your lips, so you obediently open your mouth to taste…

…incredible saltiness. You lose it, reacting vocally to the extreme taste and how it matches so badly with the ingredients. 

“Hahah! Did you put in salt instead of sugar?”

You want to cry, both from the awful taste and from the humiliation. He takes a big gulp of tea and offers you the cup. “Cleanse you palate,” he says, and you drink, too speechless to immediately apologize. How could you be so stupid? Instead of making his mood better, you probably ruined it even worse than the pile of paperwork on his desk. God. 

Masamune, of course, doesn’t want you to be too harsh on yourself (you’re probably too eager to try and make him happy, which honestly is sweet enough it wants to make his heart burst), so he picks you up and places you on his lap to deliver a deep, long kiss against your lips.

He hums, satisfied. “Now that’s great dessert, Kitten.”

/ban

Myself, @quartz-slab, and @endstone-brick are back with another fic! We actually started this one a while back, but then we all got distracted by other things and only managed to finish it now.

---

Xisuma was about ready to start tearing his hair out over this build. He just wanted to work on a design for a new shop, but apparently, that was too much to ask today. It had been two hours now, and nothing he did looked right. He’d switched the block palate three times already and was starting to lose count of how many times he’d built and torn down this same stretch of wall.

Whatever that number was, he was about to add one more to it. With a long, drawn-out groan of frustration he removed the blocks he’d just placed down and backed up to see if he could find out where he was going wrong.

He narrowed his eyes at the half-completed wall like he could glare it into not looking awful. There had to be something he wasn’t seeing. A section that was too wide, a detail that was off center, a color that was throwing everything else off. He knew it was there, but he couldn’t fix it until he found it, and it was proving stubbornly elusive.

“Maybe if I move those windows over a block?” he muttered to himself after staring at it for several seconds. “No, then they’d be too close to that pillar…”

Leaving and coming back with fresh eyes would probably be the smart thing to do, but he was determined to get this design finished today. This little shop was not going to get the best of him.

The soft swish of an elytra passing low overhead derailed his train of thought, and he automatically turned to see who was interrupting him, just in time to see them throw a potion at him. He quickly dodged out of the way, but didn’t manage to avoid the splash entirely.

For a moment he thought he had, because he didn’t feel any different. Then he looked down to check if it had hit him and realized that he was completely see-through.

Someone laughed behind him, and he whirled around to see Scar sitting on top of his unfinished build. He was wearing his vex mask, so X couldn’t see his face, but he could clearly hear the grin in Scar’s voice when he spoke. “Sorry, X, guess I didn’t see you there!”

X drew in a deep breath in an attempt to keep his annoyance from spilling out. It didn’t work. “You think it’s funny to make people disappear, do you?”

“Well-.”

“Why don’t you try it, then.” Without waiting for Scar’s response, X raised a hand and snapped his fingers, causing the other hermit to abruptly disappear from view.

After a moment, he sighed, shoulders slumping as some of his annoyance faded away. Banning Scar like that wasn’t a reasonable response to such a small prank, and he knew it. The potion had already worn off, and it wouldn’t have done any harm even if it had hit him full on. Maybe he did need to take a break if he was going to react like this to a simple joke.

Another snap, and Scar reappeared with a loud gasp. He tugged off his mask, dropping it onto his lap so he could press his hands against his face, and took several deep breaths before he spoke. “What was that?”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have banned you like that. I guess I’m just a little testy today,” X apologized.

“No, that - that place. It was so weird, it felt like... I was floating in an empty void, and I couldn’t move at all. It was… really unnerving.”

“I didn’t realize it was that uncomfortable; no one’s ever actually told me what it’s like.” Not that he’d really banned anyone before. Well, other than Evil X, who he’d banned a week or two ago. Why hadn’t he said anything about it, anyway?

Oh. Oh right.

Oh no.

His eyes widened in realization. “I- I need to go,” he blurted out.

“What? Where are you-” Scar cut off when he saw that X had already rocketed off on his elytra. “Huh, wonder what that was all about.”

---

Right next to the unfinished movie studios, X stumbled as he landed in a hurry. Regaining his balance, he hastily raised his right hand and snapped his fingers.

Evil X appeared a few feet before him and immediately dropped to his knees. He placed one hand on the ground to support himself and clutched the other to his head. He was breathing heavily, and as X drew closer, he noticed that Evil X was also shaking. Seeing someone that was normally energetic and chaotic look so vulnerable was… very strange, and it sent a shiver down X’s back.

X stopped right in front of his counterpart. “Evil X?” No response. “Evil X?” he called again, “You in there?” He reached out and tentatively placed a hand on Evil X’s shoulder.

Immediately, Evil X shot up and pushed X away. “Stay back!” He backpedaled a few steps, but disorientation from standing up so quickly caused him to fall back down almost immediately.

Evil X was nearly hyperventilating now as he sat on the ground, his eyes darting around rapidly. Eventually, he focused his gaze on X. He tried to glare, but couldn’t hide the fear and panic in his eyes. “D- don’t come near me! You... you put me in that wretched place, and now you bring me back, for what? To taunt me?” He let out a hysterical laugh. “Who’s the ‘evil’ one now?”

Despite his harsh words, X could tell that Evil X was completely overwhelmed; He was shaking like a leaf, and his voice didn’t contain the sharpness it usually had. X felt a pang in his heart as his normal animosity towards his evil twin dissipated somewhat.

Carefully, X made his way towards Evil X again. He crouched down a short distance away, doing his best to appear as nonthreatening as possible. “Hey, I’m… uh, look - I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that being banned was… this bad.”

“Don’t lie to me! You know what that place is like, why else would you send me there?”

“I didn’t know,” X insisted. “I’d never banned anyone before, there was no one to tell me what it was like.”

“So I got to be your test subject, huh? Lucky me,” he spat.

“That’s not…” X trailed off, unsure what to say. Evil X wasn’t entirely wrong, seeing as he was the first person to be banned, but he hadn’t sent him there to find out what it was like. He’d been annoyed and tired and generally not in the mood to deal with Evil X’s nonsense, so he’d decided to skip the confrontation entirely and deal with him later - and then ended up completely forgetting about it.

Evil X speaking in his raspy voice again broke him away from his thoughts. “So, what are you waiting for?”

“Waiting for what?”

“To ban me again!” Evil X yelled, his gaze brimming with hostility. “Why won’t you just get it over with? I know you want to.”

“I don’t! What kind of person do you think I am? I’m not evil like -” like you, X started to say, then cut himself off. That wasn’t helpful right now. “Look - I’m not going to ban you again. If I’d known what it was like, I never would have left you there in the first place. No one deserves that.”

“Yeah, sure,” Evil X muttered, voice just barely audible, before continuing in a louder tone. “What are you here for, then? If you’re not going to ban me, just go away and stop bothering me.”

X hesitated. It didn’t feel right to leave his counterpart alone when he was so clearly upset, but at the same time, there didn’t seem to be anything else he could do. “Are you sure-?”

“Are you deaf? I said go away,” Evil X snapped, cutting him off.

X sighed. “...Alright.” He pushed himself to his feet and stepped back, legs stiff from crouching for so long. After staring at Evil X’s scowl for a moment, he finally turned around and started to walk away.

X turned around the corner of one the studio’s buildings, then stopped. He couldn’t just leave Evil X alone - that could go sour in multiple ways. He leaned up against the wall and mumbled to himself. Maybe he should get someone else to keep an eye on his counterpart. But, at the same time, he didn’t want to drag anyone else into this mess. This was his fault and he should be the one to deal with it, but Evil X wouldn’t talk to him now. You’ve really gotten yourself stuck between a rock and a hard place, huh X? he said to himself.

As X contemplated what to do, a soft sound suddenly broke through the silence of the studio. It sounded vaguely like...crying? No, that couldn’t be right. The only person around was…

X peeked around the corner and was greeted with the most contradictory sight he’d ever seen. Evil X had his arms curled around his legs, and he was sobbing quietly. Evil X, who had tried to destroy the server more than once! It didn’t seem real to X, but it hurt to watch anyway.

He took a half step forward, his automatic instinct to comfort his counterpart conflicting with the knowledge that Evil X didn’t want X anywhere near him right now. What if he made it worse? But he couldn’t just leave Evil X to cry alone. Against his better judgment, X approached Evil X again.

X stopped about a foot away from Evil X, his counterpart having not noticed him yet. His mind raced as he tried to decide what to do next. Tentatively, he placed a hand on Evil X’s shoulder.

In response, Evil X yelped and shot upward. He spun around, his eyes widening when he saw X. “What?” His voice cracked as he spoke. “Why are you still-”

Before he could continue, X suddenly wrapped him into a hug, causing Evil X to fall silent. X had intended to try to console him, but all he could get himself to say was “I’m sorry.”

Evil X was unable to respond for a moment. At first, he just stood there stiffly, before slowly raising his arms. For a moment, it seemed like he might push X away, but then he awkwardly returned the hug. Before he knew it he was crying again, his grip around X tightening.

Once Evil X was all cried out, X carefully let go of him and stepped back. “Better now?”

Evil X wiped his face with his sleeve, keeping his eyes lowered. “...Sorta.”

“Well, that’s a start.” X shifted slightly, placing a hand behind his head. “Since this mess is kinda my fault, I think I’m obligated to help you now.”

For a moment, Evil X looked like he was going to protest, but he instead responded with “What do you mean?”

“I can’t just leave you out here, and as far as I know you don’t have a house. So uh...  you can stay at my base for now, if you want.”

“What?” Evil X said in surprise. “You’d actually be okay with that?”

A smile formed on X’s face. “As long as you don’t freak out every time I approach you.” He outstretched a hand. “Deal?”

“...Deal.”

Children Of Iron, Chapter 15: The Best Of Him

Summary: The Children Of Iron help boost Peter's confidence.

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20323687/chapters/57339733

"How are we going to get to the Netherlands?" Harley questioned. "Agent Fury's in Berlin, Happy's already taken the Jet to go get Peter, so he can't pick us up, and Beck's probably onto us by now, so he'll be watching the public transport.."

"Well, I suppose we will just have to fly ourselves" said Vision. "Hang on to me please, Harley. Nice and tight."

"Okay.." Harley, though slightly confused, did as Vision had instructed, "But how.. Whoa!"

Foregoing any concern for their anonymity in favour of concern for Peter's safety instead, Vision dropped his disguise and took to the sky, causing quite a commotion as the people of Prague began to point and gasp at the sudden appearance of a supposedly dead Avenger.

Wanda laughed, adding to the commotion as she took off after them.

"Vizh has always been great at making an entrance.." --

And so, they flew, as fast as they could safely fly with Harley clinging to Vision's back. A few times throughout their trip, Wanda offered to take Harley for a while, to carry him with her magic as she had done in Venice the night they had first tracked down Fury and Peter, but Vision refused, not wanting Wanda to over exert herself after her head injury. Wanda had, at first, objected to her fiance's reasons for refusing, but eventually backed off, realising the situation was another opportunity for the brothers to bond.

Although the teen had been a little startled when Vision had first taken off, now that he had adjusted to the sensation of speeding through the air, his grip on Vision secure, Harley was actually quite enjoying himself.

"So, this is what flying's like?" Harley asked, letting out a slight whoop when Vision sped up a little.

"It is" Vision had replied.

"This is awesome! I really should have let Tony make me a suit.."

"Maybe Peter will help you design one" Vision suggested. "He's quite good with that type of thing."

"Yeah" Harley's eyes lit up. "That would be great."

Vision smiled. He quite liked carrying Harley, the boy a pleasant, warm weight against his back. It was thrilling, in a terrifying sort of way, being completely responsible for another person's safety, having them rely on you. He imagined that this was how Parents must feel. It was feeling Vision would never really know, and he felt a little sad about that. However, as he cast a glance at Wanda flying beside him, Vision felt sadder at the thought that, being with him, Parenthood was something that she would never know either. That seemed a tragedy now, after seeing her with Morgan, with Harley and Peter.. Wanda would be a wonderful Mother. Maybe they could adopt..

"Copi de fier, prepare for landing.." said Wanda, oblivious to Vision's musings as she pointed to a field of flowers below them. "I've got eyes on the Jet.."

Vision sped up, and Harley only just managed to tighten his grip enough to avoid flying off.

"Whoa!" --

The trio soon landed and bolted into the jet.. Only to feel immediately awkward as they stumbled into the middle of what seemed to be a very emotionally charged conversation between Happy and Peter.

"..The one thing Tony ever did that he didn't second guess was picking you" Happy was telling Peter. Vision was quite distressed to see that his little brother looked rather battered. "I don't think Tony would have done what he did if he didn't know that you were going to be here after he was gone."

Peter looked at Happy, still sceptical. Vision hesitated, unsure whether he was the right person to help right now, until Wanda nudged him forward.

"Peter, Happy is right" Vision knelt by Peter's seat. "Before he.. Tony left me a letter for if I ever woke up. He asked me to watch over you, you too, Harley.." He gestured for the other boy to come closer, "And to let you both know that he was proud of you. What he did.. what he sacrificed.. He did it for you. For us. In the three of us, and little Morgan.. He left behind the best of him."

"But.." Peter bit his lip, "I messed up so bad.."

"We all mess up sometimes" Wanda laid a comforting hand on Peter's shoulder. "I know that better than anyone else on this plane. What really matters is what you do to fix it."

"So" Happy cut in, with what sounded like a hint of pride in his voice, "Your friends are in trouble, your tech is missing, and you've only got a rag-tag bunch of misfits to help you.. What are you going to do about it?"

Peter thought for a moment, then stood, determined.

"I'm gonna kick his ass!"

"Yeah!" Harley whooped and offered Peter his hand, smiling when, this time, Peter shook it without hesitation. "Children of Iron taking action!"

"Children of Iron, huh?" Peter smiled slightly. "I kinda like the sound of that."

"Uh, I like the enthusiasm kids" Happy interrupted, "But I meant what are we going to do right now, because we've been hovering over a tulip field for the last twenty minutes.."

"Oh, right.." said Peter, both he and Harley looking a little sheepish. "Happy, give me your phone.."

Peter quickly discovered that his classmates, currently at the top of Beck's hit list, were in London.

"Right, destination London.." Happy headed for the cockpit.

"Hang on, I need a suit!" cried Peter, slightly panicked.

Happy smirked, pressing a button that opened a secret compartment at the back of the plane, revealing a high-tech, portable lab that Tony had often used to work on his suits.

"Well.." Wanda blinked. "That's impressive."

"Wow.." Peter ran to the machines. "Bring up everything you have on Spider-Man.."

As the machine activated, showing Peter his options, Harley's shoulders slumped, a little put out.

"I wish I had a suit.."

"Well, maybe we can find something here for you, too.." Peter replied. "I'm gonna need all the help I can get. Let's see.."

A sudden memory flashed through Vision's mind.

"Try asking for the Potato files" He suggested.

"Alright.." Peter was a little confused, but took the suggestion. "We want everything from the Potato files too."

A second set of plans appeared alongside the Spider-Man designs, plans for what looked like Iron Man suits in about Harley's size.

"Oh, that is so cool!" Harley ran to stand beside Peter as they both got to work. "Hey Vision, you know how all Tony's suits worked, right? Come help me pick some stuff!"

"Of course" As Vision joined his brothers in the Lab, a smile spreading over his face, Wanda took a seat, happy to let the boys do their thing.

Happy watched them with a slightly wistful expression.

"What?" Peter looked at him, confused.

"Nevermind" Happy smiled softly, turning back to the job at hand. "You guys keep working on those suits, I'll handle the tunes.."

Soon, a familiar song boomed through the Jet's speakers.

"Cool, I love Led Zepellin!" Peter cried.

Wanda burst out laughing, and Happy lost a little of his hope for humanity, but it was quickly restored.

"Seriously, dude?" Harley stared at Peter, slightly scandalised. "That's not Led Zepellin, it's ACDC!"

"Oh, we are definitely keeping you, kid!" Happy laughed from the cockpit.

"You are?" Harley's eyes lit up.

"Yeah, welcome to the big, crazy family!"

Relaxing drive

(Aka: I'm not over Bloodwings death and wanted to write some lowkey Brick/Mordecai)

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

The gaunts under his eyes ached when his knuckle rubbed over the tender flesh. The sniper adjusted his goggles, fiddling with the strap as he became all too intuned to his surroundings. The murmured voices talked about furthering the mission, hushed as if the room was wire tapped. The constant droning hustle of the town below.

He couldnt stand it anymore.

[[MORE]]

Mordecai stood up. Catching the attention of the woman across the table.

"Where are you going?"

The sniper glanced at siren before continuing for the door. He lerched back as a hand gripped onto his shoulder.

"We need everyone to stay in headquarters until we get intel from the vault hunter," Roland gave, blankly staring at the lanky man.

Mordecai harshly shrugged him off, freeing himself from the crimson leader's grip.

"Solider!"

Mordecai clenched his fist as he swung his entire body around.

"I am not your fucking soldier, I am not apart of this stupid goddamn patrol of yours," Mordecai barked, "So if you excuse me," he added as he stormed out of the room, into the grundy streets of Sanctuary.

"Mordecai, wait!" Lilth called out.

"Let 'em be Lil'," A previously silent voice said.

Lilith looked at Brick with confusion. How could he be so calm? His friend just left.

"He's going for a drive," Brick said, as if reading her mind as they watched the man walked into the small hub of the city.

"A nice relaxing drive."

--

"Soldier, so God fucking far from the way it is," the man grumbled under his breath as he stomped away from the fast travel.

His vision adjusted as he looked around the wastelands. Empty. For now at least. Mordecai walked over to the florescent sign.

"Catch a riiiiiiiiide~"

Usually the grating, thickly accented voice caused the man to roll his eyes. But, today. Today it was a comfort as he waited for the vehicle to materialize.

Mordecai ran his hand over the metal before climbing into the driver's seat, engine purring as he pulled from the idle spot and onto the pathway.

There was no particular destination in mind.

Anywhere but back there was good.

--

Occasionally, Mordecai took his eyes off the road, glancing to the side. Nothing but barrenness and remnants of bygone times.

The past. Distant yet still so close.

The sniper sighed, shaking his head while taking a sharp turn to keep his mind from wandering futher than what was meters infront or in back of him.

Back on his home planet, driving was something he loved. The freedom of rolling faster than the local habitat, everything he passed became an uprooted blur. A Nomad of his own town.

The way he had liked it.

Maybe that's why other reason he left, dropped off land, wandering until he got to where he really wanted to be. Even then, he wasn't so sure he would stay rooted for long.

Mordecai swerved around the rocks, the car leaning just slightly too much to the right before smashing back onto the dusty ground.

A smile cracked on his face as he pressed his foot to the ground of the vehicle. The wind, the kicked up dust hit his face as he laughed.

"Just like old times in New Haven, eh gir-" His voice trailed, shoulders dropping when he saw only empty air above him.

The vehicle jerked as it came to an abrupt halt, drifting beneath the shelter of rusted bars.

A nomad without his pasture was just, a displaced man.

His fist slammed against the steering wheel, the searing pain traveled up his arm. He didn't care what damage he was causing to him, or the vehicle.

Frankly, he didn't care about anything; his mind clouded with resurfacing rage and a chest filled with a cold, lowly ache. His blurry vision glared towards the sky, the giant 'H' that loomed over Pandora. The lump in his throat emerged as he let out an angry,anguished cry; echoing off the sun washed billboards.

The sniper's chest heaved, breaths shallow as he rested his cheek against the steering wheel. Relishing in the cold material coming into contact with his burning face.

Exhausted. He was, exhausted; in the physical and emotional sense, he couldn't sleep, sure as hell couldn't drink the exasperation thoughts away. He tried.

But, with it replaying in his mind, he didn't even have to close his eyes to hear her pained screeching. The gurgling cries muffled from the echoes of the detonation. Followed by the hoops of laughter from the tyrannical bastard on Helios.

The sniper roughly rubbed at his tear stained face as he grumbled weakly.

And it wasn't fair.

It just wasn't fair.

Mordecai peeled his face away as he sat back up, silently watching the sun setting behind the mountains. The pink hue mixing with the natural yellows and oranges as the darkest times of twilight slowly emerged. Dim lights of the vehicle blinked on, casting skewed shadows against the boulders. He blinked slowly, wincing as he gripped the wheel once more.

--

Silence, save for the electric humming from the lights. Mordecai slipped into the headquarters, careful to avoid the few creaky steps as he walked upstairs.

He paused in his motions as he looked to the sleeping bodies. Lilith curled into a small ball, blanket tucked around her securely. Eyes wandered up, spotting the Roland, sleeping upright as he acted as a bed. The sniper held back a gruff chuckle at the two.

A yawn escaped past his lips as he tugged further in, hanging his rifle back up for the night before wandering out onto the porch. The sniper leaned against the guard as he looked past the monochromatic skyline of the town.

Sleep was at a fingers brush away, he finally was going to seize the opportunity.

He clutched his chest when he spun around, face to chest with the berserker.

"Ey, ey, give a man a warning before you do that," Mordecai said, although the tone came off as annoyed, he was glad to see the bigger man, in a sense.

Brick shrugged, "Guess I'm getting better at that sneakin' huh?" He chuckled.

Mordecai gave a lopsided grin, slowly fading when he saw the other man yawn.

"Did I wake you up?"

Brick shook his head, "Was waiting up for you, all were. "

The sniper's stomach knotted with guilt.

"You, you didn't have to do that," he quietly told.

"You went out without sayin' where you were going, of course we all were staying up, make sure you made it back," making a small nudge towards the other sleeping two,"Had half a mind to send one of my boys to find you. But," he paused with a small shrug, "I know you can handle yourself out there. Still though."

The sniper rubbed the back of his neck, he felt as if he were a teenager being caught sneaking home late.

"Fun drive?" The taller man said to fill the awkward air.

"Oh, uh, yeah, I guess," Mordecai said, "Same old shit just at an elevated speed, less dusty boots."

He flinched when the large hand patted his back. Leading the lanky man back inside.

Usually, Mordecai would stay put, not budge from the leading action. Tonight, tonight was an exception to that rule. He leaned into the contact, letting his head drop.

"Not the same without her."

Brick raised a sympathetic brow when he heard the mumbled voice.

"Course it ain't the same, ain't gonna be for a while," he explained, "you two were close, like me and Dusty."

Mordecai chuffed as the two sat on the cot. He didn't have to worry about being psychoanalyzed when it came to heart to heart conversations with Brick.

"Yeah, kinda like that," the sniper gave, letting his body slump onto the mattress. Too tired to further comment.

Brick looked at the man for a moment before standing back up. Mordecai tilited his head up in curiosity.

"Unlike you, I can't wear my shoes to bed, go to sleep, I'll be back in a bit," the berserker said.

Mordecai simply nodded before curling his knees to his chest, he wanted to see what the man was up to but, his body had made claims to the cot and was not leaving. The sniper closed his eyes to a dreamless sleep.

--

The light of a new dawn shone through the room. Mordecai groggily lifted his head, patting around blindly. He blinked slowly once his goggles were on.

He was the only one in the room.

"How long was I-?" His thoughts were paused when his hand brushed against a box by his head.

The sniper squinted as he held the box in his palm, carefully he tugged at the bow that held the top securely to the box. Mordecai peered in, eye widening as he quickly pulled the object out.

A chain dangled between his thumb and index finger. An all too familiar feather tickled the gap between.

"Oh, you're up."

Mordecai turned his head towards the door, watching as Brick walked in, standing idly by the cot, glancing at the opened box.

"Do you make this, amigo? How, how did you find her feathers?"

Brick smiled with a nod, " 'fore, what happend, when you two came by here she was shedding and dropped a few. Kept them, it ain't much but," the man was cut off when arms wrapped around his sides. Surprised by the sudden fling of affection coming from the scrawny sniper.

"Thank you," Mordecai softly said as he looked up at the bigger man, rolling the chain around his fingers when he moved away from the embrace.

The berserker tugged at his own necklace, the paws clinking together from the jostling.

Mordecai pulled the chain over his head, tucking the feather under his shirt,

"Gotta keep 'em alive somehow." Brick said as he gently patted the sniper's chest.

"I uh, saved you some breakfast, if that's something you wanted to come get right now?"

The man swallowed back the lump in his throat, "Yeah, actually might take you up on that," he said as he walked with the other man down the stairs.

Brick smiled, slinging his arm around Mordecai's small frame. He knew it would be a lengthy process for the sniper to go through, but this, this was a nice step towards that.

This is both part of my Witch Allura AU and also part of @gentronlegendaryfriendships for the prompt Hanahaki Disease.  Couldn’t resist writing this once it got into my head.

Petals

Rating: G

Series: Voltron Legendary Defender

Part of Something Familiar

Summary:  Shiro would be the first to admit that as a witch’s familiar, one had to expect the unexpected. Yet, every now and then, something would throw him off. Coming home to see scattered flowers on the floor wasn’t exactly bizarre, but it wasn’t normal for their home either. He raised an eyebrow as he followed the trail of petals into the living room.

Shiro would be the first to admit that as a witch’s familiar, one had to expect the unexpected.  Yet, every now and then, something would throw him off.  Coming home to see scattered flowers on the floor wasn’t exactly bizarre, but it wasn’t normal for their home either.  He raised an eyebrow as he followed the trail of petals into the living room.

Someone coughing as he entered.  More petals were spread in disarray across the floor and in the centre of it all was Lance, in his cat form, hacking non-stop.

“Lance,” Shiro asked in concerned as he kneeled, “buddy you okay?”

The cat froze, slammed his mouth shut and attempted to raise his head as if nothing was wrong.  Shiro narrowed his eyes.  Lance didn’t seem to be in dire stress, but Shiro recognized a guilty look when he saw one.

Shiro crossed his arms as Lance seemed to struggled to keep inside whatever it was he had in his mouth.

“Alright, what’s going on?” Shiro asked.

Lance tried a meow but then began to hack again.  Then, suddenly a blue daisy dropped out of his mouth.  Shiro blinked dumbly as Lance sheepishly tried to hide his face behind his paws.

“Did..did you just cough up a flower?” Shiro asked.

Being cats, it wasn’t uncommon for them to cough up a hairball or two, but everyone tried to do that kind of thing in private and clean it up afterwards.  Coughing up a whole flower...that was new.

A sigh was heard from the other room.  Shiro raised his head as both Hunk and Keith entered.

“Lance, I thought Coran told you to say stay in the kitchen,” Keith scolded as he kneeled to scoop up the flower.

“Yeah, no offense but easier to clean up if you stay in one spot,” Hunk said as he patted Lance’s head.

Shiro frowned as he stood back up.  “Okay, could someone tell me why Lance is coughing up flowers?”

Keith and Hunk both glance to Lance like they were wondering if he would speak up, but when he didn’t Keith volunteered.  “Lance got himself cursed.”

Shiro blinked.  “What?”

“It’s a weird curse that apparently causes people to cough up flowers,” Hunk continued.

Shiro raised and then lowered his hand.  “How did he get himself cursed?”

Seriously, Shiro had barely been gone an hour.  There were days he swore he couldn’t his eyes off the other cats for five minutes.

Keith pointed over his shoulder at Lance.  “SOMEONE had the grand idea of going exploring in the attic.”

Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose.  Oh, now that made sense.  “And I’m assuming that someone accidentally set off a magical item from Alfor’s old collection?”

They had a good reason to avoid the attic.  Allura’s father had a huge collection of magical artifacts.  Some were useful, but most were weird due to the curses that was attached to them.  Walking in there could be equal to walking into a magical landmine.

Lance’s fur went up before he swiftly changed into his human form and tossed his hands in the air.

“It wasn’t my fault!” Lance cried.  “I was just trying to find a spare game controller to play that game Pidge found when I just happened to touch this dumb amulet by mistake.”

“Why would we have a spare game controller in the attic?” Hunk asked.

“Hey, Coran is always tossing old junk up there,” Lance argued.  “I figure there was a chance that-”

A cough came.  Lance covered his mouth as he continued to do so.  Instinct taking over, Shiro patted his back until another daisy tumbled out.

Lance took a breath as he glared at the flower.  “This..is so gross.”

“Just be glad you’re not coughing up roses,” Keith said as he crossed his arms.  “Those would probably have thorns.”

Lance grumbled just as Allura, Pidge and Coran entered.  Allura held one of her spellbooks in her hands as she looked to Shiro.

“Oh, you’re back,” she said as she shut the book.  “Lance has-”

“Been cursed, yeah I just heard,” Shiro finished as he approached her.  “Do we have a way to break it?”

Pidge adjust her glasses.  “Technically we have two ways, but it’s a bit tricky considering how this curse works.”

“What’s so complicated?” Lance said as he slumped on the cough.  “I am vomiting up plants.”  Another cough came and another daisy dropped to the floor.  “See?!”

“It’s called the ‘hanahaki curse’,” Coran said as he sat next to Lance.  “It causes it’s victim to have flowers grown inside them and then forced to cough them when they experience unrequited love.”

Lance’s scowl vanished as he tilted his head.  “Huh?...Unrequited…” He pointed to himself.  “But I’m not in love with anyone.”

Hunk raised a hand.  “Uh..don’t you have a crush on that movie star you like?”

Lance blushed.  “Well, yeah, but I’m not in love with her.  That’s just a plain old crush.”

“That doesn’t matter to the hanahaki curse,” Allura said as she flipped through her spellbook.  “It seems the curse lumps crushes and actual feelings of love as one thing.”

“WHAT?!” Lance said as he jumped to his feet.  “But that’s not fair!”  He clearly wanted to yell more, but kneeled over as more daisies fell from his mouth.  “I am so sick of this.”

“Calm down,” Shiro said as he gently forced Lance to sit down and looked to Pidge.  “You said you had a cure?”

“Well, we got a couple of options,” Pidge said as she paced.  “First one is to get the person to also feel romantic love to Lance...but that’s not an option for obvious reasons.”

Shiro nodded.  He couldn’t even imagine how to get a movie star interested in Lance, even if he was actually in love with her.  “What’s number two?”

Allura cringed.  “Um...according to the book we could either try to remove the flowers by magic or even by surgery.”

Lance paled.  “What?!  You’re going to cut me open-”

“Calm down, we’re not doing that,” Allura said as she patted his head, but then sighed.  “I could try my magic but I rather not.”

“Why not?” Shiro asked.  Allura was usually chomping at the bit to use her magic.

“That would be because there’s a high risk of Lance losing all sense of his emotions if not done carefully,” Coran said.

Lance paled again.  “What?!”  His hands shook.  “So...are you saying that I’m doomed to either no longer feel any emotions or to cough up flowers until I’m old and grey?”

“No, no, of course not,” Coran said as he patted his shoulder.  “The roots of the flowers would tangled up in your throat and kill you long before then.”

Lance’s jaw fell as Shiro, Hunk and Keith exclaimed in unison “W-what?”

Shiro paled as he looked to Allura.  “Is that true?  We can’t let-”

“It’s true, but it won’t happen,” Allura cut in briskly as she shot a glare at Coran, “because we have a reasonable third option.”  She pointed to a page in her spellbook.  “There’s a potion we can make and give to Lance that will cease the flowers blooming.”

Colour returned to Lance’s face as his hands stopped shaking.  “So...I just need to drink some weed killer?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Allura said as she chewed her bottom lip.  “The only issue is that this potion is beyond my skill.  We’ll need to call in an expert on the matter.”

“An expert,” Shiro muttered, but then the meaning dawned on him.  “You’re not suggesting-”

“That we call Slav, yes,” Pidge said with a nod.  “That was what we were thinking.”

In other words, Slav would be coming here.  Shiro would have to deal with his annoying antics and criticisms face to face again.

Shiro went quiet as he turned to Allura.  “How high of a risk was it again for you to use your magic?”

“SHIRO?!” Lance called out.

Shiro sighed as rubbed his neck.  “I know, I was just joking.”  Well...he was mostly joking.

0808080808080808080808080808080808080

Slav and Sven weren’t able to arrive until a few hours later.  It meant they would have to spend the night at their place.  Shiro wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but he was willing to put up with it if it meant to cure Lance.

Even if Slav did complain the shade of blue in the walls of the guest room.  Yet, Slav seemed to be in an oddly chipper mood as he watched Lance cough up another flower.

“Fascinating,” Slav said as he wrote in his journal.  “Truly fascinating.  I have read about this curse, but to witness it is a sight.”

Lance growled as he wiped the petals off his lips.  “Yeah, yeah.  Can you please just cure me already?”

“Working on it,” Sven said as he read over Allura’s spellbook.  “Although, we will require to boil some of the ingredients listed here.”

Lance raised an eyebrow.  “And how long will that take?”

“Including boiling the potion itself, a couple of hours.”

“Great,” Lance moaned as he buried his face in hands.

Shiro gave a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.  “It’s just a bit longer.”

Lance narrowed his eyes.  “Easy for you to say, you’re not gagging on petals-”  Another cough came and another flower instantly popped out.

Slav scratched his chin.  “Truly intriguing.  I will have to take some notes in the meantime.”

Lance twitched an eye.  “I’m glad someone is getting some use out of this.”

0808080808080808080808080808080

Lance swished the blue potion in the cup.  “You sure this will end the curse?”

“Yes, yes, but stop shaking it,” Slav scolded as he seized Lance’s wrist.  “Honestly, you’re as bad as Shiro.”

Shiro rolled his eyes as patted Lance’s shoulder.  “The only way we’ll know is if you drink it Lance, but this is the field Slav is known best for.”

“Worst case being poison is probably better than choking to death,” Keith commented with a smirk.

“Oh, ha, ha,” Lance glared before he sighed and held up the cup.  “Bottoms up, I guess.”  He braced himself and poured it into his mouth.

Surprisingly, it had a sweet taste to it, but it did cause his tongue to tingle and the sensation continued to do so as he travelled down his throat.  Once the cup was empty, Lance smacked his lips as he leaned back.

“How do you feel?” Allura asked.

Lance shrugged.  “Nothing, I feel-”

Suddenly, he felt another cough come.  He slammed a hand over his mouth as he coughed non-stop until he felt something fall out of his mouth.  Lance felt Shiro pat his back as he stared into his hands.  There were no flowers, but his hand was covered in tiny white specks.

“What are these?” Lance exclaimed as he pointed.  “I thought that potion was suppose to cure me.”

“It did,” Sven said as he pulled back Lance’s hand to check.  “The potion stops the flowers growing and they turn into seeds.”

“And now all you do is cough them up which you will only have to do at least two more times, or a ten percent chance a three times,” Slav said as he brought out a small bottle.  “If it’s fine with you, I would like to collect these seeds.  I imagine these flowers will make excellent ingredients for my research.”

“Sure, fine, fill your boots,” Lance said, but was stopped as Shiro took his hand.

“You can take most of them,” Shiro said with smirk, “but we’ll want to keep a couple.”

Lance raised an eyebrow.  “And why do we want to do that?”

“To plant in a small pot,” Shiro said as he crossed his arms.  “Maybe if we put some of those flowers in Allura’s room you’ll remember why you shouldn’t go in the attic.”

Everyone gave a laugh while Lance blushed.  He was not going to look at flowers the same way again for a long time.