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deathbyathousandspiders · 11 months

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“ twenty–bucks. „

mcu!peter parker x fem!reader.

IN WHICH — the avengers had their theories about you and peter’s secret pining, but it wasn’t until a mission went wrong that they realized how serious it was.

WARNINGS (18+) → mentions of blood/wounds, cursing, angst, fluff, hurt reader.

✨masterlist✨.

2k.

Peter had been counting the minutes since you two started dating. It had been twenty months since you joined the Avengers, seventeen months since he realized how hard he’d fallen for you, nine months since you first kissed, and eight and a half months since you started your relationship.

It were though it all happened yesterday. Everything felt like it happened so fast; yet on the other hand, everything felt like it hadn’t even happened at all.

Tony Stark had scolded Peter about the difficulties of dating an Avenger, and what harm that would do to their reputation, how the government would respond, the amount of paperwork the two of you would have to fill out…blah blah blah.

Despite how often their teammates teased them, or encouraged the other to make a move, you two decided to keep your relationship a secret.

Hiding a relationship from the Avengers wouldn’t be too difficult. At least, that’s what you told him. It certainly added some adrenaline to your dynamic; the secret hand holds under the table at meetings, side–eyed conversations across the room, fucking in the storage closet as quietly as possible, the little things.

You made it all worth the risk. That is, until he remembered what the real risk of dating an Avenger really was.

Peter practically flew off the ground with how fast he ran towards you. His ears rang, deafening him from how quiet the world fell around him as he kept himself focused on your limp figure. The glossing breeze over his suit felt numbing, especially as he tripped and slid on his knees til he was finally able to take you in his arms.

“Baby..” He broke the silence, shaky fingers grazed your arm as he rolled your body over. “Babe, we–” Quick to examine you, his eyes fell wide at the large gash in your abdomen. Blood pooled out through your suit from the glass lodged in your stomach, still poking out of your skin. Peter swallowed thickly, trying to keep himself from panic.

The entire world stopped moving.

His entire world stopped moving.

Everything ran cold.

Peter didn’t know what happened. He didn’t know how he could’ve let this happen. One second, you were assigned to keep watch in the abandoned foyer, and the next? Peter left you for what felt like two seconds to kick a grimy dude’s ass or two, and there you were: unconscious and bleeding out.

“Kid? Squirt?” Tony asked through the earpiece intercoms, referring to both Peter and his unconscious girlfriend. As startling as the sudden voice was, Peter needed it to ground him back to the present. “Do you kids copy?”

It took everything in Peter to keep his lip from quivering. He nearly forgot to answer with how clouded his thoughts were. Cradling you carefully in his arms, he adjusted his grip to fumble over the earpiece. “We need a medic!!” Peter exclaimed, taking in as deep of a breath as he could muster, “Y/N’s unresponsive–”

You laid cold in Peter’s shaky grasp, not moving other than the shuttered lifting and easing of your shoulders with your breath. You were still alive, and Peter tried to cling to that as much as he could. He’d lost too many people. He couldn’t bear to lose you, too.

“Don’t freak out. And don’t touch her wound.” Tony sounded extra stern, which was how he typically expressed panic. It felt like a personal jab at Peter, but he knew better than to interpret it so malicely. “Bruce has your location and is on his way now.”

Peter could barely process the sentence, but all that registered was that help was on the way. He pulled the mask off his face before pulling yours off as well. Vision blurry, he could still make out the cuts that managed to scrape your cheeks.

He pressed his lips to your hairline, holding you gently in his arms. Your skin was cold against his touch, and he treated you as delicately as he could. He knew you weren’t dead, but knowing that you got hurt and he could’ve done something to stop it, he blamed himself. And he didn’t know what else to do besides rock you back and forth while the tears spilt from his eyes.

Footsteps approached behind him, but Peter was too focused on counting your breaths to shift his focus onto them. He kept hold of you, only moving his stare from your tattered face when someone shadowed over the two of you.

Natasha met Peter’s stare for a moment before crouching down to examine your injuries. Her lips pressed into a small line, tensing at how much blood you were losing.

“Do you know what happened?” She broke through the silence — At least, what would’ve been silence if not for Peter’s choked sobs.

He exhaled, shaking his head. “She was– She was keeping watch while I.. While I fought off the–”

Rushed footsteps through the rubble of the warehouse cut Peter off as he and Natasha looked over, Bruce and Steve running in.

Peter felt Natasha snake her arms under you, lifting you out of his grasp with ease. He felt himself panic at your absence.

“W–Wait!” He cried, more intensely than he intended.

The three looked at him, curious at his urgency. They watched as he stood up, finally wiping the tears from his eyes. “I don’t want to, uh- to leave her..”

A small, sympathetic smile touched Bruce’s lips as he nodded. “You don’t have to, but we gotta hurry back to the quinjet.” He started, taking steps back the way he came from, “I don’t have the supplies to treat her right now.”

“Has he eaten today?”

“Not that I’ve noticed.” Bruce replied solemnly, “I’m starting to worry about him, Nat.”

As you began to come to, faint murmurs grasped at your attention.

“He’s barely left this room since we got back yesterday. We’re lucky he’s stretching his legs to go find her some blankets.” You recognized Bruce’s voice instantly, though you kept your eyes shut as your consciousness collected itself. “I’ve never seen him so distraught.”

“Y’know..” Natasha spoke up, “He slept here last night.”

You felt your heart break and skip a beat at her words.

There was a pause. “I–I know. He was asleep beside her when I came in this morning.” Bruce mentioned.

You blinked your eyes open, quick to regret it when you were greeted by an overwhelmingly bright light.

“I can feel it, Banner.” Nat chimed, “They’re smitten.” There was a faint song to her words. “I think I caught him kissing her cheek before he left.”

It warmed your spirit to hear how affectionate Peter had been, but you could barely remember what happened, let alone why he’d be so distraught.

Bruce chuckled quietly, “I’m sure Tony will be thrilled to hear that.”

Once your eyes adjusted, you realized you were in the medical wing. Did you hit your head or something? Slowly, you sat up, freezing when the realization hit you.

Your hand flew to your lower stomach, hissing in pain at the wound by your hip. “Jesus.. Fuck!” You muttered, seething through gritted teeth. The pain was quick to shoot through every nerve in your body.

Before you could lay back down, you met eyes with an all too familiar pair as they entered the doorframe.

Peter lit up when he saw you up, rushing over. “You’re awake!” He beamed, quick to set the blankets down at the foot of the bed before he kissed you. He kissed your lips, then your cheeks a few times, then your nose, before pressing a sickly sweet kiss to your lips once more.

His hands cradled your jaw before he pulled back from the kiss, moving his hands to better support you as you laid back down.

“Baby, don’t you ever scare me like that again, okay?” He started, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Peter–”

“God, you scared me so bad.. I thought–” He cut himself off as he rambled, quick to shut down the dreadful thought. “I wasn’t sure if you’d ever wake up again–”

“Peter–!”

“I should’ve been more careful.. Fuck, I’m so sorry I let that happen to you–”

You gently cupped his face, “Peter!” You spoke a bit more urgently, which seemed to catch his attention. He simply stared at you while you glanced over his right shoulder about four times.

His face flushed red, turning back to meet Natasha and Bruce’s dumbfounded expressions.

They blinked at one another, each unsure of where to start.

Natasha broke the silence, pressing herself off the wall she was leaning on with a small smirk. “I’m gonna go tell Steve that he owes me twenty–bucks.”

Peter opened his mouth to say something, but immediately shut it. He watched Bruce glance at the door Natasha walked out and back at Peter, “I’ll, uh.. Give you two some privacy.”

And then there were two.

His hands slid down his face as you contained your laughter, though it was hard not to. Watching your boyfriend’s face turn red was one of your few guilty pleasures.

“You couldn’t have warned me sooner?” Peter asked as he turned to you, muffling his words under the hands that covered his face. You weren’t sure how long you were out, but you knew you missed seeing how cute he was.

You missed seeing him.

You shrugged, “I tried to.” Despite the secret being out, you couldn’t care less. A small laugh spilled from your lips at how embarrassed Peter was, but it was cut off by how painful it was.

Peter sat on the bed beside you, grabbing your hand. “Easy, now.. It’s still pretty fresh.” He hushed, brushing some of your hair out of your face. His affectionate actions made your heart swell.

While the two of you stared at each other, you couldn’t help but see the solemn look that lingered in his eyes.

You brought the hand that wasn’t intertwined with his up to cup his cheek, gentle as you caressed the new purple creases under his eyes. “Peter..” You started, “I’m safe now. This wasn’t your fault either, okay?”

He looked like he was about to protest, but you were quick to him. “It’s not your fault.” You repeated. You hoped by saying it again, it would stick in his head better.

His stare flickered from one eye to the other before he sighed, defeated as he leaned his forehead against yours. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You smiled up at him, pecking his lips once or twice. “It’ll take a lot more to get rid of me than some shattered window.”

He laughed quietly, his breath fanning over your lips before he whispered, “God.. I love you.”

“I love you too..” You trailed off as he leaned forward to kiss you again. No matter how long you and Peter had been dating, you never failed to feel butterflies in your stomach when he’d kiss you. It made you feel like you were the only two people on the planet.

“I fucking knew it!” Of course, you weren’t the only two people in the world. You heard someone speak from the doorframe, noticing how Peter immediately added three feet of space between the two of you.

Tony Stark looked between both of you, pointing at your connected handhold on the hospital bed in victory. He had the smuggest smirk you’d ever seen touch his face at the sight of you.

His grin made him look like he’d won the fifth–grade spelling bee. You would’ve never thought that you and Peter’s relationship would make such a grown man so happy.

“I’m going to go tell Steve he owes me twenty–bucks!”

#🐚 .゜・ ˗ˏˋ ☾ ´ˎ˗ 𝕰𝐋𝐋𝐄 𝖂𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝕾𝐓𝐔𝐅𝐅.#🪷 .゜・ ˗ˏˋ ☾ ´ˎ˗ 𝕭𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐒.#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker #mcu #marvel #peter parker mcu #marvel imagines #imagine #x reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #tasm peter #peter parker blurb #fluff

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lila-lou · 1 month

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✨ His only exception - Pt. 15/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, Violence

Word Count: 6921

A/N: This is part 15 of “His only exeption”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

As the car ride dragged on, you couldn't shake the feeling of dread that hung heavy in the air. Your shoulder throbbed painfully, the blood from your wound seeping through your fingers as you tried to staunch the bleeding.

Frustration and fear boiled inside you, fueling your determination to escape at the first opportunity. So when the SUV finally came to a stop, you wasted no time in making your move.

With a surge of adrenaline, you threw yourself at the two men, unleashing a flurry of punches and kicks in a desperate bid for freedom. But despite your best efforts, they were ready for you, deflecting your blows with ease and retaliating with brutal force.

A sharp blow to the side of your head sent stars exploding behind your eyes, and you stumbled backward, dazed and disoriented. Through the haze of pain, you fought to stay conscious, knowing that your only chance lay in escaping this nightmare.

But it was no use. Another blow landed squarely on your jaw, sending you sprawling to the ground in a haze of agony. As darkness closed in around you, you fought to keep your eyes open, clinging to consciousness with all your strength.

But in the end, it was futile. With one final gasp, you succumbed to the darkness, the world fading away into nothingness as the sounds of the men's cruel laughter echoed in your ears.

As unconsciousness enveloped you, you were vaguely aware of being dragged through the underground car park, the rough ground scraping against your skin as the two men hauled you along. You were lifted, your limbs limp and unresponsive, as they heaved you into an elevator.

As the doors closed with a dull thud, the two men exchanged murmured words, their voices low and filled with an unsettling sense of anticipation.

"Feisty little thing, isn't she?", one of them remarked, a twisted smirk playing on his lips.

The other chuckled in agreement. "I do love a challenge", he replied, his tone dripping with malice.

As the elevator came to a stop on one of the top floors, the doors slid open to reveal a woman standing before them, her posture radiating authority. Ashley.

"What took you so long?", Ashley snapped, her tone sharp and impatient. "I specifically instructed you to bring her here unharmed".

The two men shifted uncomfortably under Ashley's piercing gaze. "We… we tried, but she put up a fight", one of them stammered.

Ashley's expression darkened as she surveyed the scene before her, her gaze narrowing on your unconscious form. "Well, it seems you were a little too rough with her", she remarked icily, her displeasure evident.

The men exchanged uneasy glances, realizing the gravity of their mistake. "We'll make sure she's taken care of", one of them promised hastily, his voice tinged with desperation.

Ashley's lips curled into a cold smile, a glint of satisfaction in her eyes. "See that you do", she replied, her tone dripping with menace. "We can't afford any more complications".

With a dismissive wave of her hand, Ashley turned on her heel and strode away, leaving the two men to deal with the consequences of their actions.

As consciousness slowly returned, you found yourself in a state of disorientation, your senses gradually coming back to you. Blinking groggily, you took in your surroundings: a large, imposing office with polished floors and sleek furnishings.

But as you attempted to move, you realized that something was wrong. Panic surged through you as you discovered that your arms and legs were bound tightly to a chair, leaving you completely immobilized.

With a surge of adrenaline, you began to tug and strain against the restraints, desperation driving you to break free. But no matter how hard you struggled, the bonds held fast, refusing to yield to your efforts.

Frustration bubbled up inside you, boiling over into a stream of curses and expletives as you fought against your confinement. Each tug and pull only served to tighten the restraints further, leaving you trapped and helpless.

"Damn it!", you shouted, your voice echoing off the walls of the empty office. "Let me go, you bastards!".

But your cries fell on deaf ears as you continued to struggle against your bonds, the realization sinking in that escape was impossible.

As your tirade of curses echoed through the room, Ashley approached you with a calm, collected demeanor, her expression betraying no hint of concern or empathy.

"Stop moving, you're only hurting yourself", she stated flatly.

You glared at her, your eyes blazing with defiance as you continued to struggle against your restraints. "Screw you, Ashley", you spat. "Let me go, or I swear I'll—".

But Ashley merely chuckled, cutting you off with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Oh, please. Save your threats for someone who cares", she replied, her voice laced with amusement.

Your frustration reached a boiling point as you unleashed a torrent of insults and curses, each word aimed squarely at Ashley. But she remained unfazed, her chuckles only serving to fuel your anger further.

With a resigned sigh, Ashley shook her head, her lips quirking into a condescending smile. "Feisty, aren't you?", she remarked casually, as if your aggression was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

You seethed with impotent rage, unable to do anything but glare at her from your bound position.

"What the fuck do you want from me?", you demanded.

"It's not what I want, darling. It's what Homelander wants", she replied smoothly.

Your heart sank at her words, a cold dread settling in the pit of your stomach. "Homelander?", you repeated incredulously, unable to believe what you were hearing. "What does he have to do with this?".

Ashley's lips curved into a sardonic smile. "Oh, nothing much. Just a simple request to… persuade you to see things his way", she explained cryptically.

Your mind raced as you tried to make sense of her words, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place. If Homelander was involved, then this situation was far more dangerous than you had initially realized.

But before you could formulate a response, Ashley began to walk away, her voice trailing behind her with a chilling finality. "Welcome to Vought, darling. I hope you enjoy your stay".

As Ashley disappeared from view, leaving you alone in the empty room, your frustration and anger reached a fever pitch. Cursing loudly, you continued to struggle against your restraints, your skin chafing and burning as the ropes dug into your flesh.

With each futile attempt to break free, the ropes bit deeper into your skin, leaving angry red welts in their wake. But despite the pain, you refused to give up, fueled by a stubborn determination to escape this nightmare at any cost.

Desperation clawed at your insides as you tugged and pulled with all your strength, the metallic taste of blood filling your mouth as the ropes cut deeper into your wrists and ankles. But no matter how hard you tried, the bonds held fast, refusing to yield to your efforts.

Exhausted and defeated, you finally slumped back in the chair, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you stared at the ceiling, feeling utterly powerless and alone.

Frenchie's hands trembled as he dialed your number repeatedly, each attempt met with the same soul-crushing silence. With each failed call, his panic grew, a gnawing sense of dread settling in the pit of his stomach.

As the minutes stretched into agonizing hours, Frenchie's mind raced with a thousand fears and possibilities. What had happened to you? Where were you? Was it too late to help?

Frantically, he searched the apartment for any sign of your whereabouts, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and frustration. But all he found was silence, broken only by the relentless buzzing of his phone as he continued to call your number.

With each unanswered call, Frenchie felt a sense of helplessness wash over him, a crushing weight that threatened to suffocate him. He had to do something, anything, to find you and bring you back safe.

But as the hours ticked by and his efforts yielded no results, Frenchie realized that he was facing an uphill battle with no end in sight.

With a sinking feeling in his chest, Frenchie dialed Butcher's number. After several rings, Butcher finally picked up, his voice gruff and impatient.

"What is it, Frenchie? I'm in the middle of something", Butcher snapped, his tone no-nonsense as usual.

Frenchie swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady despite the rising panic within him. "Butcher, it's urgent. I can't reach (Y/N)", he blurted out, the words tumbling from his lips in a rush.

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Butcher responded, his tone grudgingly concerned. "What do you mean you can't reach her? What's going on?", he demanded.

Frenchie quickly explained the situation, recounting how he had been unable to contact you for hours and the growing sense of dread that had consumed him.

Butcher's response was terse, his words clipped and to the point. "Keep trying. I'll see what I can find out from this end", he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Frenchie nodded, even though Butcher couldn't see him. "Thanks, Butcher", he replied gratefully, his relief evident in his voice.

But as he hung up the phone, Frenchie couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. He knew that time was of the essence, and that he would stop at nothing to find you and bring you back home.

With a sense of urgency, Frenchie continued to try reaching you without success, his heart sinking with each unanswered call. Determined not to give up, he turned his attention to scouring through the camera recordings of the city, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

After what felt like an eternity of searching, just as he was about to give up hope, his eyes caught sight of a familiar figure in one of the recordings. It was you, being escorted by the two men and the ominous black SUV.

A surge of relief flooded through Frenchie as he quickly scrutinized the footage, committing every detail to memory. As he zoomed in on the license plate of the vehicle, his blood ran cold when he saw the unmistakable emblem of Vought.

Heart pounding, Frenchie wasted no time in dialing Butcher’s number once more, his voice urgent as he relayed the newfound information. “Butcher, I’ve found her. She’s with Vought”, he blurted out, his words rushed with adrenaline.

“Vought? What the bloody hell are they up to now?”, he growled, his frustration evident.

“I don´t know, but we need to act fast”, he insisted.

Butcher’s response was immediate and decisive. “I’ll send the team back. Except Soldier Boy”, he instructed.

Relief washed over Frenchie at the news, grateful for the reinforcements that were on their way. “Alright, Butcher. I’ll be ready for them”, he replied, a sense of resolve in his tone.

But Butcher wasn’t finished yet. “But Frenchie, listen to me”, he continued, his voice taking on a stern edge. “Do not, I repeat, do not go in there alone. Wait for the team to arrive. Understood?”.

Frenchie hesitated for a moment, the urgency of the situation weighing heavily on his mind. But he knew that Butcher was right. “Understood”, he replied reluctantly, knowing that it would take a few hours for the rest of the team to reach him.

Butcher's stern warning echoed in Frenchie's mind as he hung up the phone, a mixture of frustration and determination swirling within him. He knew that going in alone would be reckless, but the thought of you in danger ignited a fierce determination within him.

Taking a deep breath, Frenchie forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He needed to prepare for the arrival of the team and ensure that everything was in place for the rescue mission.

As he gathered supplies and double-checked his plans, the minutes stretched into agonizing hours, each second ticking by like an eternity.

As you struggled against your restraints, the door to the office swung open with a resounding creak, and in stepped Homelander, his presence commanding the room. His hands were clasped behind his back, and a smug smirk played on his lips as he sauntered toward you.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?", Homelander mused, his voice dripping with arrogance as he surveyed you with a mix of amusement and disdain. "Looks like Soldier Boy's little girlfriend got herself into some trouble. Again".

You bristled at his condescending tone, a surge of anger coursing through you despite your helpless situation. "I'm nobody's girlfriend", you retorted defiantly.

Homelander merely chuckled, unfazed by your bravado. "Oh, please. We both know that's not true", he replied dismissively. "But enough small talk. I have some questions for you, and I expect you to answer truthfully".

As he spoke, Homelander circled around you, his gaze piercing as he studied you with unnerving intensity. With each step he took, the sense of dread that had been gnawing at you only intensified, as you realized that you were completely at his mercy.

"Why the hell are you still alive?", Homelander demanded, his voice low and menacing, as he loomed over you.

You met his gaze with defiance, refusing to show any sign of weakness. "Maybe I'm just too stubborn to die", you shot back.

Homelander's eyes narrowed dangerously at your insolence, his patience wearing thin. "Don't play games with me", he growled, his voice tinged with frustration. "How is it that the Compound V didn't kill you, but it also didn't turn you into a supe?".

You remained silent, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer. Enraged by your defiance, Homelander's patience snapped. With a swift motion, he raised his hand and delivered a powerful slap across your face.

The force of the blow sent you and the chair crashing to the ground, pain exploding through your skull as your mouth and nose began to bleed. Through the haze of agony, you struggled to maintain consciousness, your vision swimming as you fought to keep your wits about you.

But despite the pain and the fear that threatened to overwhelm you, you refused to back down. Clinging to your defiance like a lifeline, you stared up at Homelander with unyielding resolve, silently daring him to break you.

As you lay sprawled on the ground, blood trickling from your battered face, Homelander towered over you, his expression cold and unyielding.

"Answer me", he demanded, his voice a menacing growl. "How did you survive?".

Gritting your teeth against the pain, you met his gaze. "Wouldn't you like to know?", you spat back, your voice thick with contempt.

Homelander's eyes flashed with fury at your insolence. He grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, hauling you up until you were eye level with him.

"You think you're clever, don't you?", he sneered, his grip tightening on your shirt. "But I'll make you talk, one way or another".

"Good luck with that", you retorted.

With a frustrated growl, Homelander shoved you back to the ground, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. "We'll see about that", he replied ominously, turning to leave the room.

As he disappeared from view, leaving you battered and bruised on the floor, you knew that your ordeal was far from over.

As the hours dragged on, your body bore the cruel marks of Homelander’s relentless interrogation. Bruises blossomed across your skin like dark petals, and blood stained your torn clothing. Every breath came with a sharp pang of pain, and each movement sent waves of agony coursing through your battered frame.

Homelander’s attempts to extract information from you grew increasingly brutal with each passing hour. He wielded violence like a blunt instrument, striking you with merciless force and leaving you gasping for breath, teetering on the brink of unconsciousness.

But despite the physical torment, you remained steadfast in your defiance. With every blow, you gritted your teeth and endured, clinging to the last shreds of your resilience as if it were a lifeline.

Homelander’s frustration simmered beneath the surface, his attempts to break you only fueling his anger. Yet, despite his best efforts, you remained silent, your determination unyielding even in the face of such brutal violence.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of torment, Homelander paused, his cold gaze lingering on your broken form. You lay on the ground, barely conscious, your breaths shallow and ragged.

“Look at you”, he spat, his tone laced with disgust. “Pathetic. Weak. You’re not even worth the dirt beneath my boots”.

Your body screamed in agony, but you were too exhausted to muster a response. Every breath felt like a struggle, and the pain radiating from every inch of your body threatened to overwhelm you.

With a dismissive scoff, Homelander turned away from you, his attention shifting to the doctors who had entered the room behind him. “Get to work”, he ordered them, his voice cold and authoritative. “Run every test possible. I want to know everything about her, no matter how painful”.

The doctors nodded obediently, their expressions unreadable as they approached you.

As the doctors lifted you from the ground and began to carry you out of the room, Ashley appeared at Homelander's side, her brow furrowed in concern. "What happened to her?", she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

Homelander's expression remained impassive as he glanced back at you, lying half-conscious in the doctors' arms. "She didn't want to cooperate", he replied simply, his tone tinged with annoyance.

Ashley's eyes narrowed slightly as she studied you, her curiosity piqued by the sight of your battered form. "She looks half dead", she observed.

Homelander shrugged indifferently, his gaze never leaving your prone figure. "She's tougher than she looks", he remarked dismissively. "But we'll see how long that lasts".

With that, the group disappeared through the doorway, leaving the room empty once more, save for the lingering echo of your labored breaths. As you were carried into the depths of the facility, a sense of dread settled over you, knowing that whatever lay ahead would test your resilience like never before.

Ashley's expression darkened with concern as she listened to Homelander's explanation, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. "Is that such a good idea?", she ventured cautiously, her voice tinged with doubt. "If she's Soldier Boy's girlfriend, won't he come for her sooner or later?".

Homelander's eyes flashed with irritation at the suggestion, his grip tightening on Ashley's throat as he pushed her up against the wall with brutal force. "I don't need your input, Ashley", he hissed, his voice low "I know what I'm doing".

Gasping for breath, Ashley struggled against Homelander's iron grip, her fear palpable in the air between them. "I-I'm just saying…", she stammered, her words choked off by Homelander's unyielding hold.

With a cruel smirk, Homelander leaned in close, his eyes boring into Ashley's with icy intensity. "Do you really think Soldier Boy stands a chance against me?", he taunted. "He's nothing compared to what I am".

As Homelander released his grip on Ashley, she slumped to the ground, gasping for air and rubbing her bruised throat. Trembling, she watched as Homelander strode past her, his expression cold and calculated.

Without sparing her a second glance, Homelander followed the two doctors who were carrying you, his footsteps echoing ominously in the empty hallway. As they entered the lab, the doctors carefully placed you down on a large examination table, your body limp.

Homelander approached the table with an air of authority, his eyes narrowing. "Make sure every test is conducted", he ordered the doctors. "I want to know everything about her, no matter the cost".

The doctors nodded obediently, their expressions grave as they prepared to carry out Homelander's instructions. With a sense of dread weighing heavy in the air, they began their examination, knowing that whatever they discovered could have far-reaching consequences for both you and the world beyond. And as they worked, Homelander watched on with a cold detachment, his mind already plotting his next move in this dangerous game of power and control.

"Tie her up", he ordered.

The doctors exchanged a hesitant glance, their eyes flickering with concern as they looked at your battered and broken body. "But sir, she's already in no condition to resist", one of them ventured tentatively, a note of apprehension in his voice.

Homelander's expression darkened with impatience at their hesitation. "Do it", he snapped. "She may be weak and pathetic, but she'll fight tooth and nail if given the chance. I won't take any risks".

With a resigned nod, the doctors reluctantly set to work, securing your limbs with restraints despite their misgivings. As they tightened the bonds around your wrists and ankles, you stirred slightly, a low groan escaping your lips.

Homelander watched with a cold detachment as they finished their task, his eyes lingering on your bound form with a sense of satisfaction. "Good", he declared. "Now let's see what secrets she's hiding".

With a sense of grim determination, the doctors resumed their examination, knowing that they had little choice but to carry out Homelander's orders.

With clinical precision, they extracted every possible fluid from your broken body, subjecting you to a barrage of painful tests and procedures.

Needles pierced your skin, drawing blood and other bodily fluids as the doctors worked tirelessly to uncover the secrets hidden within you. Each extraction sent waves of agony coursing through your weakened form, but you were bound and helpless, unable to do anything but endure the torment.

Homelander watched with a mixture of fascination and anticipation, his eyes alight with a twisted sense of curiosity as he awaited the results of the tests. With each vial filled with your precious fluids, he grew more impatient, eager to uncover whatever secrets lay buried beneath your battered exterior.

As the hours dragged on, the doctors spared no mercy in their relentless pursuit of knowledge, subjecting you to increasingly painful and invasive procedures. They prodded and probed every inch of your broken body, extracting tissue samples and running tests with a cold efficiency that bordered on cruelty.

Though you could feel yourself slipping further into the abyss with each passing moment, you refused to surrender, clinging to the hope that somehow, someway, you would survive this ordeal.

Meanwhile Frenchie stood anxiously outside the airport, his eyes scanning the arrivals hall for any sign of his teammates. Finally, he spotted them making their way towards him, relief flooding through him as Hughie, MM, Kimiko, and Annie approached.

"About time you guys showed up", Frenchie sighted, opening the door of the car for them.

Kimiko gave Frenchie a quick kiss on the cheek before sliding into the passenger seat, her hands moving gracefully as she signed her concern. "Did you find her?", she signed quietly, her eyes filled with worry.

Frenchie nodded grimly, his hands mirroring her serious expression. "Yeah, but it's not good", he signed back, his movements precise and deliberate. "We need to move fast".

As the car sped towards their destination, Annie leaned forward slightly from the backseat, her expression filled with curiosity. "What could Vought possibly want with her?", she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Frenchie glanced at her through the rearview mirror, his hands still firmly on the wheel. "I'm not sure, but whatever it is, it can't be good",

Hughie nodded in agreement, his brow furrowed with worry. "Vought's always up to something", he remarked, his voice somber.

With each passing mile, the tension in the car grew thicker, the weight of their mission pressing heavily on their minds.

"Did you find Homelander in Europe?", Frenchie asked.

Hughie shook his head. "No, he wasn't anywhere to be found", he replied, his voice tinged with frustration.

Frenchie's shoulders slumped slightly, a sense of disappointment washing over him. "Damn", he muttered quietly.

MM leaned forward from the backseat, his gaze meeting Frenchie's in the rearview mirror. "Soldier Boy and Butcher are on a hot lead, though", he added.

Frenchie nodded, his mind racing with possibilities. "Does Soldier Boy know about (Y/N) being gone?", he asked carefully, his eyes flickering with concern.

Annie frowned, her brow furrowing with confusion. "I don't think so", she replied, her tone uncertain. "Why?".

Frenchie sighed, his expression grave. "We need to be careful", he warned. "If Soldier Boy finds out, it could escalate things".

Annie's brow furrowed with confusion as she glanced between Frenchie, Hughie, and MM. "But why would Soldier Boy escalate things if he found out she's gone?", she questioned, her voice laced with concern.

MM's brow furrowed as he considered Frenchie's explanation. "I get that he doesn't like being left out, but… I don´t think he would care that much on this one", he remarked.

Frenchie sighed inwardly, wishing he could divulge the full extent of the situation to his teammates. However, knowing the delicate nature of the relationship between you and Soldier Boy, he opted for a vague response. "Soldier Boy's got a temper", he replied vaguely, his tone cryptic.

Hughie leaned forward, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "You know, Soldier Boy probably cares more about taking down Homelander than anything else", he suggested, his voice tinged with conviction.

Frenchie couldn't help but snort at the remark, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. However, he quickly composed himself, realizing the seriousness of the situation. "Maybe", he replied, trying to downplay his reaction. "But let's focus on finding (Y/N) first".

Annie glanced between them, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Either way, we need to be prepared for anything", she added.

A few minutes later, the team arrived at the Vought tower, its sleek exterior towering above them like a monolithic fortress. With cautious determination, they made their way towards a hidden entrance that Annie knew from her time with The Seven.

As they slipped inside, the air was thick with tension, each footstep echoing softly in the empty halls. They moved with silent precision, their senses alert for any sign of danger.

Annie led the way, her eyes scanning the shadows for any lurking threats. "This way", she whispered, her voice barely audible as she guided them through the labyrinthine corridors.

Frenchie and Hughie followed closely behind. "Keep an eye out for security cameras", Frenchie murmured.

As the team stepped into the elevator, Annie couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at her gut. The ease with which they had infiltrated the building seemed too good to be true.

Her brow furrowed in suspicion as she glanced around at her teammates. "This feels too easy", she remarked quietly, her voice tinged with concern.

Frenchie nodded in agreement, his expression mirroring her unease. "Yeah, something doesn't feel right", he replied.

As the elevator doors slid open, revealing Homelander standing before them with a menacing smirk, the team froze in shock. Their surprise quickly turned to alarm, as the realization dawned on them that their adversary was right in front of them, despite being expected to be halfway across the world.

Homelander's cold gaze swept over the team, his lips curling into a malicious grin. "Look who decided to pay us a visit", he taunted.

"You shouldn't be here", Annie retorted defiantly.

But Homelander just chuckled darkly, his gaze lingering on each member of the team with chilling intensity. "And yet, here I am", he replied, his tone filled with ominous promise. "I suggest you surrender now", he growled, his eyes flashing with lethal intent. "Or things are going to get messy".

The team exchanged tense glances, their hearts pounding with. With a surge of adrenaline, they sprang into action, their movements fluid and coordinated as they launched their attack on Homelander. Annie unleashed a barrage of energy blasts, her powers crackling with raw power as she aimed for her target with precision.

But Homelander was a force to be reckoned with, his reflexes lightning-fast as he effortlessly dodged Annie's attacks. With a flick of his wrist, he knocked her off balance and sending her crashing to the ground.

Frenchie and Hughie rushed forward, their fists flying as they attempted to overpower Homelander with sheer brute force. But the Supe was unfazed, his strength and agility unmatched as he effortlessly blocked their every blow, delivering punishing counterattacks with devastating accuracy.

Meanwhile, MM circled around behind Homelander, his mind racing as he searched for a weakness to exploit. But before he could make a move, Homelander whirled around, his eyes narrowing as he locked onto his target. With a menacing grin, he lunged forward.

The team fought valiantly, their determination unwavering even in the face of overwhelming odds. But no matter how hard they fought, they couldn't seem to gain the upper hand against Homelander's relentless onslaught. With each passing moment, the battle grew more chaotic and intense, until a doctor approached the scene, his expression tense with urgency. "Homelander, she's awake", he announced, his voice quivering with apprehension.

Homelander's eyes narrowed at the news, his attention momentarily diverted from the fight. With a growl of frustration, he turned to a group of nearby guards, his voice booming with authority. "Throw them in a cell", he commanded.

The guards wasted no time in carrying out Homelander's orders, their hands gripping the team firmly as they dragged them away from the chaotic scene.

Meanwhile, Homelander followed the doctor towards the source of the disturbance.

As they approached the room where you were being held, Homelander's pace quickened, a predatory gleam in his eyes.

As Butcher and Soldier Boy pressed forward through the desolate streets of Spain, the weight of their mission heavy on their shoulders. “Why the fuck did the other fuckers bugger off?”, he grumbled, his frustration palpable.

Butcher’s expression darkened at the question, his jaw clenching with tension. “They didn’t bugger off, mate”, he replied tersely, his voice low and gruff. “They went to rescue (Y/N)”.

Ben´s steps faltered at the mention of your name, his heart pounding in his chest. “What do you mean, rescue (Y/N)?”, he demanded.

Butcher’s gaze hardened as he met Ben´s eyes, his words heavy with significance. “Vought took her”, he explained bluntly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

Ben´s world seemed to come crashing down around him at Butcher's words, his mind reeling with rage. "Vought took her?", he repeated, his voice trembling with anger and disbelief.

Butcher nodded solemnly, his eyes never leaving Soldier Boy's as he confirmed the grim truth. "Aye. And the rest of the team went to get her back", he reiterated, his tone steady despite the intensity of the situation.

A surge of fury surged through Soldier Boy's veins, his temper flaring as he struggled to contain the overwhelming flood of emotions. Without a word, he lunged forward, his hands curling into fists as he shoved Butcher to the ground.

Butcher hit the pavement with a grunt, the impact jolting through his body as he struggled to regain his bearings. He met Soldier Boy's furious gaze with surprise.

Soldier Boy loomed over Butcher, his chest heaving with exertion as he fought to control his rage. "You should've fucking well told me", he seethed, his voice raw with emotion.

Butcher pushed himself up onto his elbows, his expression hardening as he met Soldier Boy’s fiery gaze. “And what good would that have done, eh?”, he shot back, his voice tinged with frustration. “We’ve got bigger bloody priorities now”.

Soldier Boy’s fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tightening. “Fuck off”, he spat, his tone laced with contempt as he turned away.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”.

Ben didn’t look back as he answered. “I’m fucking going to get her back”.

Butcher quickened his pace to catch up with Soldier Boy. “Listen, mate”, he called out, his voice urgent as he closed the distance between them. “Starlight and the rest of the team, they’ll get her back. We just need to trust them”.

Soldier Boy came to an abrupt halt, his shoulders tense with frustration as he turned to face Butcher. “Trust them?”, he scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. “They’ll probably just end up fucking it all up”.

Butcher felt a surge of concern as he watched Soldier Boy’s chest start to glow , a silent reminder of the immense power that simmered beneath. “Easy there, mate”, he urged, his voice calm despite the rising tension. “We don’t need any explosions tonight”, he raised both hands.

Soldier Boy gritted his teeth, his frustration bubbling dangerously close to the surface as he struggled to contain his temper.

Ben´s jaw clenched tightly, his eyes flashing with a fierce determination. "I'm flying back, right now".

Butcher hesitated for a moment, weighing the risks of allowing Soldier Boy to act impulsively against the urgency of the situation. Finally, he nodded in reluctant agreement. "Alright", he conceded, his tone tinged with resignation. "Let's get to the airport".

As the team found themselves confined to a dimly lit cell in the depths of the Vought tower, tension hung heavy in the air. Hughie paced back and forth, his frustration evident in every restless step.

"This is bullshit", he muttered under his breath. "We were so close to getting (Y/N) back".

Annie leaned against the cold concrete wall, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she surveyed their surroundings. "We need to find a way out of here", she stated , her gaze sweeping over the barred door with a steely determination.

MM nodded in agreement, his expression grim as he assessed their options. "Agreed. But we need to be smart about it", he cautioned.

As Homelander loomed over you at the examination table, his presence casting a sinister shadow over the room, you couldn't suppress the shiver of fear that coursed through your battered body. His smirk sent a chill down your spine as he gazed down at you with chilling satisfaction.

With a cruel glint in his eyes, Homelander turned to the doctors standing nearby. "Give her the double dose of pure Compound V", he ordered.

Your heart pounded in your chest as the doctors moved to obey his command, their expressions grim with resignation. As they prepared the syringe, dread washed over you like a tidal wave.

Homelander's gaze never wavered as he turned back to you, his smirk widening into a predatory grin. "This should probably kill you", he taunted, his words echoing with a chilling finality.

As the doctors approached with the syringe filled with Compound V, your muscles tensing in anticipation of the excruciating pain to come. You gritted your teeth, bracing yourself for the inevitable torment.

The doctors injected the double dose of Compound V into your bloodstream, the burning sensation spreading like wildfire through your veins. Agony tore through you, every nerve in your body ablaze with searing pain as the powerful substance coursed through your system.

You cried out in torment, your screams echoing off the sterile walls of the lab as you writhed in agony on the examination table. The world blurred around you, consumed by the white-hot agony that consumed every fiber of your being.

Homelander watched with cold detachment. "Pathetic", he sneered.

As the potent Compound V surged through your veins, the intensity of the pain became unbearable. Your vision blurred, darkness creeping in at the edges as your consciousness slipped away once more

Since you were unconscious, Homelander returned to the team.

His grin widened as he stood in front of the cell. "Well", he taunted. "Do you lot know about your little friend's impressive talents with Compound V?".

The team exchanged wary glances.

Homelander watched the team's expressions. "You see, your friend is pretty much dead", he explained. "But somehow, she still refuses to die".

An eerie silence fell over the room as the weight of Homelander's words settled upon the captive team. Again, they exchanged fearful glances, the gravity of the situation sinking in with each passing moment.

Frenchie´s jaw clenched tightly, his fists balling at his sides as he struggled to contain his rising anger. "What have you done to her?", he demanded.

But Homelander just chuckled. "Oh, nothing that she didn't bring upon herself", he replied casually. "But don't worry, I have big plans for her".

With a cold smirk, Homelander turned and strode away from the cell, leaving the team to grapple with the chilling realization of the danger you were facing.

"We can't just sit here and do nothing", Frenchie declared.

Annie nodded in agreement, her eyes flashing with urgency as she scanned their surroundings for any potential means of escape. "We need to find a way out of here".

Kimiko signed urgently, her movements quick and deliberate as she communicated her assent to the rest of the team. MM nodded solemnly, his expression grave as he prepared himself for the daunting task ahead.

Frenchie let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping with defeat as he glanced around the cell. “But… there’s no way out”, he admitted, his voice tinged with resignation. “These cells are designed to hold in any kind of supe or human, no matter how strong”.

Annie’s brows furrowed with frustration as she considered their predicament. “There has to be something we can do”, she insisted.

Hughie and MM exchanged worried glances, the gravity of their situation sinking in. “We’re screwed”, Hughie muttered.

As you slowly stirred from your slumber, your body aching from the ordeal you had endured, you found yourself greeted by the sight of Homelander looming over you, a cruel smirk playing on his lips

The doctors bustled around you, their movements precise and methodical as they continued to run another battery of tests, their expressions a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Homelander's patience seemed to wear thin as he observed the proceedings, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. "What's taking so long?", he demanded, his voice sharp with impatience. "I want results, and I want them now".

The lead doctor glanced nervously at Homelander before returning his attention to his work, his hands trembling slightly as he adjusted the instruments. "We're doing everything we can, sir", he assured him, his voice trembling with fear.

But Homelander wasn't satisfied with the response, his temper flaring as he turned his attention back to you. "How is she still alive?", he spat, his voice tinged with disbelief. "She's just a human. That much of Compound V should have killed her by now".

As the hours dragged on, the relentless barrage of tests and procedures continued unabated, each one more invasive and agonizing than the last.

You drifted in and out of consciousness, the pain and exhaustion threatening to overwhelm you with each passing moment. Each time you faded into unconsciousness, you prayed for the sweet release of oblivion, only to be pulled back into the waking nightmare of your reality.

With each cut and incision, you felt your strength waning, your body growing weaker and more fragile with each passing moment. Yet still, you clung to life, your will to survive burning bright even in the face of such relentless torment.

Homelander watched with a mixture of fascination and frustration, his impatience growing with each failed attempt to unlock the secrets hidden within your seemingly ordinary frame. He paced the room restlessly, his eyes never leaving your prone form as he silently urged the doctors to try more drastic measures, unwilling to accept defeat.

With a roar of anger, he lashed out at the nearest piece of equipment, sending it crashing to the ground in a shower of sparks.

The doctors scrambled to appease him, their fear palpable in the air as they desperately tried to placate the enraged supe. But nothing seemed to calm Homelander's fury, his anger consuming him like a raging inferno.

In the midst of the chaos, you remained unconscious, oblivious to the turmoil unfolding around you. Your body lay still and lifeless, the only sign of your struggle the shallow rise and fall of your chest.

With a swift and deadly grace, Soldier Boy materialized behind the doctors, his presence like a shadow in the darkness. Without hesitation, he seized each of them by the heart, ripping the organs from their chests with a sickening crunch before tossing them aside like discarded toys.

As the lifeless bodies crumpled to the ground, Soldier Boy turned to face Homelander, his eyes smoldering with a fierce intensity. “You’ve made a fucking mistake”, he growled.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 I can't wait to upload Chapter 16

Part 16

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy @jackles010378 @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles @sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl @emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444 @seasonofthenerd @staple-your-mouth

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #the boys #billy butcher #the boys hughie #hughie campbell #homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander x y/n #angst #hurtful #injury

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hogwartslegacyreactions2 · 19 days

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Hi, I’m so glad that you’re back, I absolutely love your work!

Can I make a request where the HL students and MC are talking or doing something and suddenly MC kiss them on the cheek.

I hope I make myself understand, english isn’t my first language 🥺

In advance than so much and welcome back! ✨

A/N: not to worry, your english is fantastic! I know plenty of native speakers that don't write that well LOL!

HLC REACT TO MC KISSING THEIR CHEEK

MC: as an agent of chaos, they must kiss their best friends for no reason. They'll lull their friends into a false sense of security with pleasant conversation and then strike!

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: "See, I don't understand how they-!!" He flinches but MC still got him. He puts his hand over where they kissed him and smiles, confused. His cheeks tinge pink. "Wha- *ahem* what was that for?"

OMINIS GAUNT: He jerks his head away. He didn't have his wand active during the conversation so he was caught completely off guard. "What in blazes!? Did you...did you just kiss me??" It doesn't matter what their answer is, grumpily huffs at them while his face slowly goes pink.

ANNE SALLOW: "Oh my..." Her face flushes and she avoids eye contact. "How scandalous." She covers her mouth to hide her smile.

IMELDA REYES: "Woah!" She dodges MC. "What the hell are you doing!?" She wrestles with MC as they continue to attempt to kiss her cheek. They win eventually, but at a cost.

NATSAI ONAI: She catches them coming in and turns her head towards them to catch their lips with her own. She's the one to make MC blush. "Care to try that again?" She giggles.

GARRETH WEASLEY: "Thank you, but I asked if you'd pass me the leech juice." He doesn't skip a beat and continues their conversation as they brew. He kisses their cheek in return when they hand it to him.

LEANDER PREWETT: He blushes so hard he looks sunburnt. He's completely forgotten what they were talking about and stares wide eyed. "Did you mean to do that..? Why did- um...was that a one time thing or..?"

AMIT THAKKAR: *Amit.exe has stopped working* He's unresponsive.

EVERETT CLOPTON: His glasses are pushed askew when MC kisses him. He readjusts them with a shaky hand. "Wow, that was... unexpected." He has the goofiest grin on his face the rest of the day.

POPPY SWEETING: She lets out a surprised squeak and turns a brighter shade of red from embarrassment. She hides her face behind her hands and swats away at MC. "Stop laughing!"

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy reactions #hl #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #anne sallow #imelda reyes #natsai onai #garreth weasley #leander prewett #amit thakkar #everett clopton #poppy sweeting

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braimin · 13 days

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LMAO i just know that if sanji ever so much as suggested he'd wear those cute little diner uniforms a la shelly in twin peaks, zoro would not know what to do with himself. he'd bluescreen. he'd explode on tje spot. he'd cease to exist.

You're so right bestie✨ That poor boy doesn't stand a chance.

He doesn't even get a warning when it happens. At some point Nami finds out people actually like the Love Cook and she decides to do a photo shoot with him so she can sell the pictures. Her and Usopp start planning it and settle on the idea of putting him and the girls in matching outfits. At first it was going to be like simple waiter and waitress uniforms, like semi formal black ones. But Nami complained about how something boring like that wouldn't sell, and that it'd be more fun if they were in something more provocative. And then it snowballed into something devious.

They arrive at an island and on the first day they're there Nami and Robin run off to do some shopping and Zoro doesn't think much of it. The next day Franky drags him out to help carry supplies. When they get back he can hear a lot of commotion on deck and Usopp is loudly giving directions on poses; which is fairly normal, Nami does photoshoots every now and then.

But then they get on deck and Zoro promptly drops the crate of stuff he's holding (valuable stuff, Franky reminds him). Usopp isn't only directing Robin and Nami, no, Sanji is also in the mix. Sanji is also wearing the same uniform as them.

Zoro feels like his feet are stuck to the floor, he can't get himself to look away as his brain draws a complete blank and does a hard reset. He's not listening to anything anyone is saying; the same few sentences playing in his head on repeat- 'He looks so pretty in blue', and 'He's probably the hottest person I've ever seen.' over and over. Eventually Sanji makes his way towards him. The clack of heels, he's wearing high heels, he thinks, on wood are the only thing Zoro can really pay attention to. He's vaguely aware of Sanji saying something as he cocks his head to the side.

He leans further into Zoro's space when he continues to be unresponsive; the smell of smoke fills his nose as Sanji keeps talking. 'Oii, Marimo~. You good?' Then the most embarrassing in all his twenty years of living happens, his body betrays him in the worst way.

Zoro, a man of honor and discipline, gets a fucking nosebleed.

#zosan #sanji #zoro #nami and usopp are zosan's biggest shippers #but they're also zoro's biggest haters #and they love seeing him suffer #they definitely got reaction pictures of zoro seeing that uniform #zoro can't sleep that night #sanji buys that reaction pic of zoro off nami #because his nosebleed is both hilarious and hot to him

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collisvng · 6 months

Text

CHAPTER 1 | BADASS BALLERINAS

THE END ZONE 🏈🩰✨

Pairing 🤎 Seo Changbin x Fem! Reader︎

Genre 🤎 SMAU, University/College AU, Ballett/Football AU, Fluff, Angst, Crack—all of that good shit lol︎

Synopsis 🤎 By recommendation of his coach, Changbin decides to take a ballet class in order to improve his agility and coordination on the field. It seems like a harmless and fun activity at first. But what happens when his ballet partner starts to make him choose between the two?

Warnings 🤎 Swearing, brief mentions of food, alluding to weight insecurities, and Han being weak as fuck (lol)

Taglist 🤎 Open!︎ ✨

Word Count 🤎 3,254 + 7 sm screenshots!

In Collaboration With 🤎 @channie-143

✨️MASTERLIST✨️

WHEN YOU ARRIVED AT THE DANCE HALL...

Minho was already at the barre. He was observing himself in the mirror, making sure each warm-up he did was fluid as he gripped the handrail to help steady himself. Plies, tendus, and degages expelled themselves from his body in the most graceful yet precise movements.

He spared you a glance as you walked in—setting your bag and water bottle down near the entrance before you made your way across the floor. When your eyes met, you both acted estranged and looked away.

“You know for someone who hates mornings, you really do make the effort to be the first here.”

“I could say the same about you,” Minho stated as he brought himself into first position once again. “Although you always seem to get here after me. You must like being in second place.”

“Can’t be second place when I’m the class favorite,” you said, finally turning to face him. “Cute of you to think otherwise though.”

“Since when was this?”

“Since last semester when the instructor literally told me I was her favorite.”

“Hm,” he pursed his lips to the side. “I don’t recall that ever happening. And you don’t really have any proof either, sooo…”

His eyes never met yours and you smirked.

It was always like this between you two. Since the day the two of you became friends, your constant bickering is what brought you closer. From class, to practice, to studying together… there was never peace. Everything was like a challenge, and you both loved it. It made it even more fun when the both of you broke character.

You sighed, walking away to the middle of the floor.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Lino.”

Minho stared ahead—unresponsive. But the moment he wasn’t within your sight, a small smile tugged at his lips.

He finally decided to face you when your body slowly descended to the floor.

“Not joining me at the barre for once?” he asked, and you shook your head.

“My lower back’s been killing me,” you groaned as you stuck both your legs out in front of you. With your arms reached out in the center of them, you practically clawed your upper body forward until your stomach touched the ground. The extension gave you a sense of relief. “It’s gonna be floor stretches for right now until the teacher comes, if I’m honest.”

A quick nod of approval was given to you before a playful, “good girl” left Minho’s lips. The word EW! left your mouth so quickly that it almost sounded like you were hearing yourself say it in the third person.

But you weren’t, because the voice you actually heard in third person was Hyunjin’s as he entered the dance hall with Felix.

“Can you not say stuff like that?” he glared at Minho, sitting down next to you. “You don’t have to flirt with everyone.”

A tiny laugh escaped your lips as you half-sat up, taking in the sight of Hyunjin and all its glory. White T-shirt disheveled as one side hung off his left shoulder, black tights hugging his legs, and messy black hair pulled partially into a small ponytail—you knew his tired look all too well. His eyes were barely open, and he had a slight grimace on his face.

“Good morning to you too, sleeping beauty,” you teased as you tousled his hair. “Felix must have had fun waking you up.”

“Oh, it was hell!” Felix’s voice echoed through the room. He set his bag next to yours, desperately rummaging through it to find something. You observed his outfit change into a white shirt and black tights, much like Hyunjin and Minho, suspecting that he must have switched out of his comfy clothes before making his way to class. “I literally had to recruit Seungmin to help me wake him up. Which, by the way, was the worst choice ever. He almost had me pay him five dollars in order to get him into Hyunjin’s room when I couldn’t get him up.”

He waddled his way over to you and Hyunjin, joining you both on the floor. He was holding a small, blue plastic container that was faintly see-through enough to see the brownies that were within it.

“Now eat!” He stated, opening the lid to the container and practically sticking it under you and Hyunjin’s noses. “Because I know for a FACT neither of you have. And hurry up, I don’t want the instructor to yell at us for eating in the dance room again.”

As Hyunjin happily pulled a brownie out of the container and ate it, Felix ripped a piece off one and held it out to feed it to you while you were mid-stretch. You giggled a bit, leaning forward to take a bite but not fully being able to take the whole piece from his hand. He grinned from ear to ear, putting the rest of the small chunk you left behind in his mouth.

He repeated the action; feeding you and eating the rest over and over. Eventually, even Minho took a piece of your roommate's chocolate masterpiece, saying his thanks to the “brownie boy” and giving Felix a short-lived head pat. It was all so soft and wholesome, it made you feel thankful.

You couldn’t imagine a better way to start the day than beside these three dorks who made you the happiest in the world.

Eventually, the dance hall began to fill up as it got closer to class time. You all made your way to your respective places at the barre, and Felix managed to sneak his tupperware back into his bag before the teacher arrived and could tell him to put it away.

You gave a little wave to the boys from across the room while you stood next to Minho. As Hyunjin gave you a little salute and Felix waved back, you caught a glimpse of the class’s golden boy.

Alongside you and Lino, a guy by the name of Choi Yeonjun was known as the best dancer in class. He was precise, like Minho, but also had the agility of a feline and the determination of a bulldog. Everything he did was perfect, and if it wasn't he would have to find a way to fix it and make it perfect.

It’s what made him such a great dance partner, which you would know since he was yours last semester. You were quite sad when your instructor broke you two apart this year, explaining that both your talents could be put to good use helping others in the class who needed a “bit of work” with their dancing.

There was also an odd number of people in the class since someone never showed up on the first day of instruction; causing the teacher to practically plead to Yeonjun about the possibility of rotating between two partners—which he happily agreed to.

Thus why Yeonjun stood at the other end of the room sandwiched between two girls, while your partner—

“I’m not late. I’m not late. I’m not late. I’m late— I mean I’m not— FUCK!” Han’s voice suddenly echoed in the distance as you heard the harsh sound of footsteps approaching. Words rambled out of our best friend's mouth as he pushed through the double doors of the dance hall gripping onto the penny board in his hand for dear life. “I am one hundred percent on time and totally did not accidentally hit like three people on my way over here!”

He put his bag next to yours and Felix’s before resting his board against the wall. He accidentally leaned it the wrong way though, wheels sliding down against the plastered wall causing the end of the board to slam into his ankle. He let out a small yelp then grumbled a swear as he flipped the skateboard over and placed it down correctly with the wheels pointed outward.

The class laughed at the ordeal, while you.. Well, let’s just say you’ve seen him do worse.

When he finally walked over in your direction, you sighed.

“A whole minute before class started,” you remarked. “Proud of you.”

Jisung rolled his eyes as he moved to stand behind you. “I told you I was gonna try to not be late anymore. I keep my promises, bitch.”

The teacher walked past, glaring at him as the swear left his lips. His deep brown eyes widened in fright, immediately bowing as he stammered out apology after apology. The instructor chuckled a bit and patted Han on the shoulder.

“Glad you could join us on time today, Jisung,” she teased.

You’ve never seen Han calm down so fast.

*•.¸♡¸.•*

The class went along like normal.

After basic warm-ups and barre training, the class shifted over— moving onto centre work, then across-the-floor exercises.

Eventually, the teacher clapped her hands together and instructed everyone to get into their assigned pairs. You and Jisung eyed one another deucedly, slowly approaching each other until your nose was about eye level with his chin.

“You gonna drop me again?” You mumbled a bit sternly.

Jisung scoffed, a nervous eye roll followed. “Wouldn’t dream about it, princess.”

There was a bit of tension between the two of you, friendly and understanding but still there. With a raise of your brown, Han then slowly made his way around you, placing a hand on your waist as you prepared to lift yourself onto tip-toes.

Par de Deux was one of your favorite types of dance. It was one of the reasons you even decided to become a dance major, in fact. Most partnered dances in ballet were often symbolic of romantical stories or inherent partnerships of love. The women seeming light as a feather as the men danced with them through their acts of enamored virtue. Holding them up as if they were an ethereal cloud to be held.

Feeling a person’s weight and properly handling it was an essential part of Par de Deux. You were responsible for holding your placement. That is your job. Your partner is the one responsible for keeping you on your legs, making you look controlled and winsome— holding you in place, lifting you, and caressing your body like a beautiful flower.

Seeing something so beautiful became so intriguing, you trained to go on Pointe just to one day finally have a dance partner worthy of that partnership. Someone who could make you feel as light as a feather.

You had only experienced this euphoria with two people so far. Once with Minho when you both practiced together a year or two back and once with Yeonjun. Both men, despite their smaller frame, were actually quite strong and full of unswerving confidence. But you could never be Minho’s partner though; the two of you bickered too much and were way too competitive with one another.

That's why you missed having Yeonjun as a partner. In your head, you were his feather.

And as much as you loved Han… He wasn’t necessarily the strongest.

Thus why after a few balancing exercises, when the instructor tested the waters and asked pairs to attempt a simple turn-around lift, you weren’t surprised when Jisung let go of you halfway through the turn.

You fell to the ground briefly as Han panicked and scrambled to pick you up. He managed to get you back on your feet in record time, but not fast enough for the teacher to not notice.

The music abruptly ended and the room fell silent. The loud sound of the instructor’s heels reverberated through the room hauntingly as she made her way over to where you and Jisung stood. Han’s eyes were facing the floor, his hands still on your waist as you stood flat-footed once again, cringing at the very thought of what was going to happen next.

When the teacher gave a disappointed sigh, you could feel Han’s grip on you tighten slightly.

“What am I going to do with you?” Her words came out more concerned than annoyed, which you were grateful for. “I thought pairing you with Y/N would be for the better, but I’m proven wrong each time I look over and spot her on the floor.”

No words came out of Han’s mouth as he stood there semi-ashamed. His eyes looked up briefly, pupils dilated with puppy-like sadness. He opened his mouth to say something—probably to apologize profusely—but was cut off by the sound of the dance hall door opening and closing.

Everyone’s heads snapped immediately in the direction of the sound, yours included.

At the entrance stood a man holding a piece of paper folded in half in one hand, while the other gripped the handles of a duffle bag that was slung around his shoulders. He wore a fitted black T-shirt paired with black joggers and black-framed glasses to match his ensemble. His shirt hugged his broad shoulders along with his chest—something you couldn’t quite take your eyes off of.

He was cute, and buff, and awkward… an adorable combo.

When the teacher greeted him and asked him why he had barged in unannounced, his hold on the paper faltered.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to… um…” He took a deep breath, holding the paper out in front of him. “I was just told to bring this referral to you. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

“A referral, hm?” The instructor said, looking over the paper that had been handed to her.

The boy nodded.

“Coach Park said I needed a bit more cross-training to help balance out some things I need to improve on when it comes to the field. A friend of mine told me you had a spot open, so I went to the admin to get a referral for an add code,” he paused. “You know, if the spot is still open.”

“Coach Park? So you’re on the football team?”

“Yes ma’am.”

The teacher’s eyes hovered over him, then over to where you and Han stood. You could practically see the gears turning in her head.

“Han,” the teacher spoke, “go stand in the corner.”

Jisung’s eyes widened as a small, sad pout formed on his face.

“What?”

“You… Stand in the corner next to Regina… Now, please.”

Big boba pearls frosted over with sadness and confusion met your own eyes as Han complied with the teacher's instructions. He walked over to where Yeonjun stood, giving a small apology as he stood next to one of his partners. The guy in the doorway stood there awkwardly as he watched the whole ordeal.

Wasn’t long before he was picked on as well, though.

When the instructor’s gaze landed on the stocky boy once again, she gave a simple statement asking him to stand next to you. As he did, you realized he wasn’t much taller than you. Not quite your height, not really as tall as Jisung was, but somewhere in between.

“Now pick her up.”

The words spewed out of the teacher's mouth without any hesitation.

A quick nod from the boy, followed by hands hovering around your waist ensued. You could feel the slight warmth from his breath against your neck as he stood behind you contemplating what to do next.

“Can I… Um…” his voice trailed off. “I mean, are you okay with me touching you?”

The sincerity of the question took you by surprise, bringing a bit of blush to your face as you bobbed your head in approval.

Within seconds you were picked up and lifted off your feet with ease. You remained stagnant in the air for a beat or two, feet high enough from the ground that you could almost kick them back and forth, before being placed back down. The fact that he was able to lift you without even so much as a second thought shocked and flustered you to the point of no return.

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks when you glanced over to see Felix and Hyunjin snickering in their spots about your demeanor. You made sure to keep note of that for later.

It seemed that ordeal was enough for your instructor, as she agreed to let the man join your class as long as he agreed to be your new dance partner. Obviously, he said yes.

You could hear Han pout a bit in his little corner, whom of which you mouthed the words ‘sorry’ and ‘I love you’ to and got a sad smile in return.

Class promptly ended soon after that.

As you, Minho, Hyunjin, and Han all grabbed your things, it became very obvious someone from your group was missing.

There he was, Mr. Lee Yongbook, giddily standing with Yeonjun as they both waited for the mystery man to get his add code. You had never seen either of them interact with the dude before, but when he went over and gave them both a hug it was obvious they were more than just acquaintances.

When his little welcome party dispersed, you decided to finally make your way over to your new soon-to-be dance partner and properly introduce yourself.

All that came out of you though was a cringe-worthy wave and an awkward, “Hi.”

A big smile appeared on his face as he shifted from one foot to the other. Like before, you recognized he wasn’t much taller than you. But the inch difference matched with his muscles made it very easy for you to feel small.

“Hi,” he beamed, “so I guess you and I are partners now.”

“Yep,” you responded before promptly pointing in the direction behind you. “And.. you know Felix?”

“Yeah. He’s best friends with one of my close friends. Plus he’s the mascot so everyone on the team kinda knows him.”

“Right… Right.”

“Yeah.”

“Cool, cool.”

“My name’s Changbin, by the way.”

He held out a hand for you to shake and you took it. After a moment or two, you both realized you had been holding hands for a little too long and let go. A laugh was shared in unison, as the strange tension that was created between the both of you lingered a bit. It was uncomfortable, but not in any way you had ever really felt before.

It was exciting? … Maybe?

After agreeing to meet up over the next few days to help Changbin catch up on some things he missed in the class, he grabbed his duffel bag and headed off. You let him know how serious dance was for you, which he understood. He explained how he would typically have football practice right after ballet class was over, but promised he would always try to randevu before leaving. You thanked him for his reassurance.

You watched him exit through the dance hall entrance and simply stood there in an unwavering daze as you stared at his back muscles, remembering the events from earlier. He picked you up like it was nothing. He was polite. And, now that you had seen him face to face, he was actually pretty cute.

Perhaps you finally found someone who could make you feel like a feather after all.

DING!

Thanks to the abrupt texts Seungmin sent to your group chat, you finally snapped out of it.

Seungmin: bitches. Seungmin: in n out. now. Seungmin: advice column kicking my ass. Seungmin: need fuel. Seungmin: hang out with me.

“Oh so now he wants to love us,” Han pouted as he stared at his screen.

taglist: @marcillfll @jiisungllvr @chrizzlaptop @babrieeee @soupbinlily @pissmori @chlodavids @marnz1990

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tinytinyblogs · 2 months

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Stray Kids Mafia Series: Felix

In the midst of the chaos and perilous circumstances, he unexpectedly spared your life, an action he had never taken for anyone else.

⚠Mention blood and gun, mafia theme⚠

Stray kids masterlist here

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

The red velvet banquette, usually avoided like a spilled martini on a first date, beckoned with unexpected allure tonight. Tonight was rebellion against the predictable, a whispered promise of "different" scribbled on the fluorescent bar lights. You perched on its cool edge, a tentative bird testing unfamiliar branches, a kernel of hope blooming in the concrete jungle of routine. Your gaze drifted to the crystal goblet on the bar, catching the neon strobe's prismatic dance. It winked and shimmered, a tiny disco ball reflecting the kaleidoscope of your own desires for change. Was this the chance you'd whispered about in silent prayers to the night sky? Was this the crack in the dam of habit, the beckoning of a current you'd never dared to ride? Surrounded by the chaos of a frantic nightclub, panic gripped your heart as the sudden sound of gunfire shattered the air. Screams pierced the night, and people scrambled for safety, their bodies colliding as fear turned to desperation. Overwhelmed by the sheer terror of the moment, you froze, your instincts urging you to find shelter amidst the chaos. Adrenaline surged through your veins you scanned the room for a place to hide. Running seemed like a futile attempt, your legs feeling heavy and unresponsive. With trembling hands, you sought refuge in the nearest alcove, your body curling into a protective ball as the cacophony of screams and panicked footsteps echoed around you. The tremor in the floorboards was a familiar language, a whispered rhythm beneath the symphony of the city.

You knew each creak, each groan, and the precise tremor that meant hurried footsteps. Tonight, however, the rhythm stuttered, followed by a sharp intake of breath. Someone had discovered your hiding place. Heart hammering against your ribs, you squeezed your eyes shut your heart pounded in your chest, threatening to burst from its confines, as you imagined the worst-case scenario: your own life hanging by a thread in this tumultuous night. Every nerve ending hummed with anticipation, waiting for the deafening crack that would signal your end. But the expected blast never came. Instead, a tense silence stretched, punctured only by the ragged rhythm of your own breath. Curiosity wrestled with fear, urging you to peek. With agonizing slowness, you cracked open an eyelid, then the other. A gun glinted menacingly in his hand, its metallic sheen a stark contrast against the crimson stain spreading across his shirt. He emerged from the gloom like a mirage, moonlight catching the pale sheen of his skin. Blood, you realized with a jolt, marred his cheekbone, a crimson stain against the alabaster canvas. Yet, even in the throes of chaos, even with a gun clutched tight in his hand, he was breathtaking. His blonde hair, long and tousled, fell in a mullet that somehow managed to be both rebellious and strangely delicate. It framed a face sculpted with an almost arrogant perfection, jawline sharp enough to cut diamonds, eyes the color of a stormy sea. He stood frozen, a tableau of lethal grace, every line of his body taut with tension.

As your eyes met his, you flinched, expecting the worst. The man, caught off guard by your unexpected presence, almost reacted impulsively, his finger hovering dangerously close to the trigger. Your gaze, drawn by an invisible magnetism, followed the cold metal to his hand, where a finger hovered impossibly close to the trigger. Tears, salty and warm, had already carved silent tracks down your cheeks, betraying the desperate scream trapped within your chest. Your throat, constricted by a primal fear, refused to let out a sound, your voice stolen by the terror that clawed at your insides. It felt as if your very being vibrated with an unheard plea, a silent cry for help that echoed only in the hollow chambers of your heart. However, something held him back, a flicker of humanity amidst the chaos that surrounded him your presence in this atmosphere of violence seems misplaced. He could see the terror in your eyes, a reflection of his own inner turmoil. He realized, in that fleeting moment, that the violence he had been a part of had spilled beyond his control, ensnaring innocent lives in its destructive wake. Lost in a haze of terror, you opened your eyes to find the man still frozen in his tracks, his gaze locked on yours. His deep voice, surprisingly calm amidst the chaos, echoed through the room. Your lungs finally released the breath you hadn't dared to exhale, a shaky torrent that escaped in a single, shuddering sob. The gun, once aimed with chilling precision at your heart, now hung limp at his side, the tip dipping almost apologetically towards the ground. His eyes, those storm-laden depths, searched yours with a bewilderment that mirrored your own.

He pivoted away, his back stiff and unyielding, like a fortress against the tidal wave of emotions threatening to break within him. His breath escaped in a sigh, heavy and laden with frustration. Why? Why should he feel this pang of regret, this sudden urge to shield you from the chaos he himself had unleashed? Spare your life? It was laughable, almost grotesque. He, the predator, the harbinger of violence, now grappling with the unthinkable notion of mercy for his prey. The discordant symphony of the ravaged nightclub, a twisted echo of its former revelry, pierced the suffocating silence. It was a rude awakening, a stark reminder of the carnage swirling outside the bubble of his internal conflict. The sound brought him crashing back to reality, forcing him to confront the consequences of his actions and the unexpected weight of your fragile presence. "Don't move. Stay exactly where you are. I'll clear this up. Don't come out until I get you." With that, he turned and disappeared into the mayhem. You had no idea who he was, only that he was one of the men involved in the shootout, evidenced by the gun still clutched in his hand. You remained rooted to the spot, feeling like a hummingbird caught in a sudden downpour. The blonde stranger with the gun was a whirlwind of contradictions, spitting gunfire one moment, offering hesitant mercy the next. His words hung heavy in the air, tinged with an unexpected vulnerability that left you both bewildered and wary.

The incessant thrum of gunshots continued, a macabre rhythm punctuated by the occasional scream. Logic screamed at you to run, to seek refuge in the labyrinthine darkness of the club. But movement seemed to invite disaster, like a butterfly fluttering into a spider's web. So, you stayed, a statue sculpted from fear, flinching with every deafening crack, your ears aching from the sonic assault. Then, silence. It descended with the suddenness of a curtain falling, leaving behind a ringing emptiness that pressed against your eardrums. Your breath hitched, caught in your throat like a trapped bird. You strained to hear, your very being attuned to the slightest whisper of sound. It came then, a footstep. Deliberate, heavy, it echoed through the shattered silence with an eerie familiarity. It was his step, exactly the same, carrying the weight of unspoken choices and fresh bloodshed. You squeezed your eyes shut, a silent prayer forming on your lips, but he was already there, standing over you, a new crimson bloom staining his cheek. Your gaze, drawn by a morbid fascination, landed on the stark evidence of violence etched across his abdomen. The crimson bloom staining his shirt spoke of a wound severe enough to send shivers down your spine. His voice, a rumble from the depths of his chest, broke the suffocating silence. "Come out," it commanded, the gruffness barely masking the pain twisting his features.

Hesitantly, you crawled into the open, limbs stiff with fear yet propelled by a morbid curiosity. As you rose to your feet, the question on your lips tumbled out before you could think. "Are you alright?" It felt absurd, a meaningless platitude against the backdrop of his obvious injury. He remained silent, the only confirmation of your question the flickering in his stormy eyes. Yet, there was an unexpected intensity in his gaze as he studied you, dissecting your features as if searching for answers in the moonlight's dim canvas. As you stepped into the sliver of light filtering through a shattered window, your form becoming tangible, his eyes narrowed, the unspoken question in their depths mirroring your own. "Felix! Are you alright?" The name resonated through the shattered silence, carried on the panicked breaths of a group of men rushing towards him. It struck a chord within you, a name whispered in hushed tones around back alleys and murmured beneath watchful eyes. Felix. The name of the city's shadow king, the maestro of the underworld, the man woven into the very fabric of fear. His voice, a low rumble from the depths of his chest, cut through your haze of morbid introspection. "We need to get out of here." The words snagged on your attention, dragging you back from the tangled threads of your own thoughts. You met his gaze, the stormy depths catching the moonlight, and realized those words had been directed at you.

"Their men will be here any minute," he added, a grim reminder that the fragile peace of this shattered nightclub wouldn't hold forever. The echo of gunshots still danced in the air, a chilling counterpoint to the frantic whispers and hurried footsteps around you. You followed in the wake of Felix, his hulking frame and loyal shadow of men carving a path through the wreckage of the nightclub. Each step crunched on shattered glass, a discordant soundtrack to your escape. Your heart hammered against your ribs, a hummingbird trapped in a cage of nerves. Escape, in the form of the cool night air and the quiet whisper of distant streets, beckoned. Yet, leaving felt like walking off a tightrope strung over a chasm, exhilaratingly terrifying. Were you a stray caught in their spotlight, a witness they might choose to silence, or something more? His voice, roughened by smoke and violence, broke the uneasy silence. "Get in my car." Eyes the color of a brewing storm locked with yours, their depths unreadable. The fresh air that should have cleansed your lungs felt stagnant, heavy with unspoken questions and the lingering acrid tang of gunpowder. Confusion warred with a reluctant curiosity. You were nobody in this world of theirs, a fleeting wisp in the hurricane of Felix's existence. So why the lingering glance, the unexpected offer? A hesitant shake of your head came before you could fully form the words. The puzzle pieces of this encounter refused to fit, leaving you adrift in a sea of bewilderment.

A low chuckle, unexpected and almost jarring, rumbled from Felix's chest. He swiped at a smear of blood drying on his cheek, the gesture almost casual, almost… charming. "Lovely," he drawled, the pet name catching you off guard. It sent a shiver down your spine, a dissonance against the steely glint in his eyes. His smile, when it came, was like a wolf baring its fangs in moonlight, both beautiful and unnerving. "Get in the car, sweetheart. Walking away? Not the brightest idea you've ever had." The wind, a mischievous imp, danced through your unbound hair, sending strands skittering across your cheek like ticklish whispers. His words, unexpectedly melodious against the backdrop of chaos, still reverberated in your ears: "I spared your life." The warmth of his voice, a stark contrast to the icy grip of fear, lingered on your skin. But the respite was fleeting. "And it's time you paid." His gaze, sharp as a falcon's, dipped to the crimson bloom staining his abdomen. The wound, a gruesome testament to the carnage that unfolded, tugged at the fragile cord of your composure. "Treat it," he commanded, his words carrying the weight of a king's decree. "You understand, sweetheart, a hospital isn't exactly my playground." The implication hung heavy, unspoken but undeniable. Knowing his identity was your invisible collar, binding you to this twisted game. A beat of silence, then his voice shifted, the harsh edges softening like melting ice. "And," he murmured, the word almost caress, "I need to know what made me rethink my initial decision, my lovely. What prompted me to spare a fly like you?"

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eugeneplace · 1 day

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Loving all the zombie brozone interactions omg, idk if it says so somewhere but do all the brothers have different levels of consciousness?, or is it only JD who is rlly unresponsive

Different levels, but JD definitely got it the worst.

He can't speak and his brothers have to drag him around. Sometimes he can follow them on his own! He is more lucid when it's about his little bros. Pop Zombies work thanks to adrenaline, when it goes down they collapse. He carries them to their beds then.

Clay is the smartest one! (which isn't a lot, all things considered) He doesn't just move and talk, he can design choreography and choose songs. He even has use of reason! In fact, it was Clay who came to the conclusion that JD's lack of talking was due to his regret for not listening to them in the past

(But it could also be that he only said it so the other bros wouldn't worry and he doesn't actually believe in his own theory)

Bruce's condition is something in between Jonh Dory and Clay, he's a very low energy guy. Can talk, but he doesn't really say that much. He's also very clingy, so when he moves is just to cuddle the others.

Another thing, none of them remembers why they were mad at each other so...

They're besties✨✨

#world domination tour au #trolls au #trolls brozone #trolls john dory #trolls clay #trolls bruce #zombie brozone

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mellaithwen · 10 months

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Fuck it Fridayyyy 💕

Thank you for tagging me @rewritetheending ✨

I totally dropped the ball with 1000 words of summer, but I think we all saw that coming ;) I definitely wrote something for days 8 through 14, but I stopped keeping track of how much and on what days so never mind!

Anyway here’s some Eddie and Bobby angst while they wait for Buck to wake up from his coma :’)

The bags under Eddie’s eyes are deep and dark, and there’s several days worth of stubble freckled across his jaw. He looks bone-tired, and Bobby can’t help but squeeze his upper arms as he holds him close, anchoring him to the here and now.

He can’t be sure if Eddie’s shirt is the exact same one he’d had on earlier or not, but he certainly doesn’t look like he’s been home in the last forty-eight-hours, that’s for sure.

“Have you gotten any sleep?” Bobby asks, and rather than lie, Eddie just curls his lips to the side and ducks his head, before shaking it.

Athena had insisted on taking Bobby home, practically man-handling him into bed for a quick nap before his shower, but he’s pretty sure the only person that could make Eddie do that was Buck himself.

And…well. Therein lay the crux of the matter.

“I, uh—I kinda lost track of time,” Eddie says finally, though Bobby can imagine the truth is quite the opposite. Eddie could probably tell his captain exactly how long Buck had been unresponsive, and out of reach…down to the very last second.

Tagging with no pressure because if anyone understands the writing struggle it’s meeee @fcntasmas @princessfbi @homerforsure @renecdote @littlespoonevan @hopeintheashes @fleurdebeton @capseycartwright @henswilsons @bigfootsmom @genderqueerbuck @like-the-rest-of-la and @shortsighted-owl 💕

#911fic #911 #buddie #buddie fic #fuck it Friday #I was gonna post art but my iPad died so hey ho #911 fanfiction #Mellaithwen fanfic #eddie diaz #bobby nash #evan buckley #911 on abc #911 abc #911 fox

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naavispider · 4 days

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💙💞Survivor: bonus scene💞💙

Read Survivor on AO3, my cop au where Quaritch is a high ranking police officer who finally works out the street kid he's had multiple run-ins with is his son.

For everyone who wanted a scene from Quaritch's point of view! Here's the moment he worked out Spider is his ✨ (I changed it from the main story so that Spider told the precinct his full name the last time he was arrested, instead of telling the hospital the day Q found him. It's not a huge change, just run with it).

It was grey, blustery Thursday morning in downtown St Mark’s, the wind whipping against the windscreen of the PD’s Ford Explorer as Miles Quaritch patrolled down another empty street. At 6am, no one was out yet. The world was quiet apart from himself and his partner sitting in the passenger seat.

“She was a beauty,” Lyle Wainfleet reminisced, vastly overestimating how much Miles actually cared. “That was the one that got away, I’m telling you.”

“Is that so?”

“I should message her again.”

Quaritch rolled his eyes without looking at his partner. He’d known Lyle for a long time and there was no one more reliable he’d rather be on shift with. However, their differing attitudes towards Lyle’s hunt for a woman was sometimes a point of contention between them. “Should you now?”

“You don’t think it’s a good idea?”

“It seems to me she made her feelings pretty clear.”

“Well aren’t you a ray of sunshine today? Come on, Colonel, I’m trying not to get my heart broken, here!” Miles shrugged, surveying the bleak street ahead of them. It had been an uneventful night shift, which is exactly the kind that Miles should have hoped for. However, he couldn’t deny that a huge part of him still missed the action and danger of the marines. Rain had just started to spit from the overcast sky, forcing him to turn on the wipers. This part of town was known for its drug involvement, most of which Miles himself had uncovered. Now though, the street was empty, not a single sign of life in the dawn light. There was nothing amiss here.

“You wanna get a coffee?” Lyle’s bored voice drifted over from the passenger seat. He’d already switched off for the shift.

Miles sighed, thinking they may as well, but then he saw it. A shapeless lump on the floor in one of the archways that lined the shopfronts. “Hold up,” he said. “Let’s deal with this first.”

Unfortunately, the homeless were nothing new to the pair. They had time to check one more over. Miles pulled the car over to the curb, gently bringing it to a stop a few feet away from the sleeping figure. Now that they were closer, the Colonel could make out that it was someone small, maybe young, but their face was hidden in the concrete. Miles frowned as he realised that the person wasn’t huddled up in a blanket or sleeping bag like usual, but instead they were lying almost completely exposed to the wind and the cold, limp and seemingly lifeless.

“Oh, shit,” Lyle articulated as he too clocked that this could be something serious.

Without wasting time, Miles opened the door and cautiously approached where the person lay. “Hello, there,” he called loudly, as per protocol. “Are you alright?”

As he knew there wouldn’t be, there came no response. Lyle joined him and they stepped closer, Miles’s heart thudding at the expectation of finding a body. Since joining the police force, it had happened once before to Miles. It was nothing like the death he’d seen in the warzone, but it was almost… sadder. These people had nobody with them, no one waiting for them at home and possibly no one that would miss them when they went. At least there was honour in dying in combat.

He grasped the young person’s upper arm and shook firmly. “Hello? This is the police, do you need help?” In doing so, he finally caught sight of the person’s face. It was a teenager - and one he recognised at that. The boy had a young face, dirty blonde curls that covered most of his head and a peaceful expression that remained unresponsive. He remembered the teen from a couple of run-ins they’d had over the past few months. Once for underage drinking and then again for stealing. He was a runaway foster kid, barely sixteen if he remembered correctly. “Shit,” he murmured, a pang of something anxious striking his insides at the thought that he’d had the chance to help this boy and he might now be dead. “We know this kid. Wake up!” He pulled the boy by his arm and the teenager rolled over limply, completely out of it. His lips were blue and there was dried vomit on the side of his face. Ignoring the smell, Miles put his ear to the boy’s mouth, checking for breathing. He couldn’t see or hear anything for several torturous seconds. Lyle was already radioing for an ambulance.

Suddenly, a gurgled cough escaped the boy’s lips. “There, we go,” Miles murmured, trying to rub the kid’s back as he racked his brains for the alias the kid had given them. “Can you wake up, kid? It’s the police, we’re gonna get you some help.”

He knew the boy couldn’t hear him, but he kept speaking anyway. Once he was confident the kid was taking semi-regular breaths, he cast around the scene for the drugs packet he knew he’d find somewhere. “Here,” he said, handing the tiny bag to Lyle, who got the drugs kit out. A few seconds later, they had their answer. “Cocaine,” Lyle confirmed. “Isn’t this the kid we picked up a while back for stealing?”

“That’s the one.” The boy was cold to the touch. “What’s the ETA?”

“Four minutes,” Lyle responded. “There’s a camera up there. That could be interesting,” he nodded towards the CCTV placed not too far away. It was pointing in their direction and would have covered the boy while he slept.

Miles nodded, pulling the boy’s thin blanket over his frame while they waited for the ambulance to arrive. “Kid, can you wake up? You’re in a bit of a rough state.” He raised his voice as if he was speaking to someone who was deaf. “Kid? Can you hear me? Try and wake up.”

He could tell he’d broken through by the wince in the boy’s features, his body seeming to spasm for a moment before his chest heaved and vomit spluttered from his mouth.

“Easy, tiger…” He rubbed the kid’s shoulders, making sure he was on his side. “At least he’s alive,” he glanced up at Lyle.

Eventually, the ambulance arrived with flashing lights. It couldn’t have come soon enough, as far as Miles was concerned. Every second felt like the kid was slipping further away from them. “What’s happening, then?” a kind woman with brown hair asked as she and another paramedic hurried over, bags over their shoulders.

“Sixteen year old boy, found unresponsive. Cocaine on his person.”

“Okay,” the paramedic nodded her understanding. “My name’s Janine, this is Sarah. We’ll get him on board as soon as we can. Do you have a name?”

“Spider.” It came to Miles like a flash of lightning, the strange nickname finally illuminated in his brain. “We’ve met before.”

“Spider?” Janine asked, taking Miles’s place at Spider’s side. “Can you hear me? We’re here to help you. I’m just going to put this Pulse Ox on your finger…”

Miles stepped back to allow the medics to assess Spider. He was a marine, he was used to chaos and stressful situations, normally the picture of calm as he navigated the safest and most efficient way back to safety. But he had to admit this one had thrown him. He was glad that someone else was here to take charge because his concern for Spider was growing by the minute. It somehow felt like his fault the boy had ended up here, and he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling. As he watched them work, it struck him that he felt responsible.

Which was ridiculous, of course. This wasn’t his responsibility in the slightest. He’d done his job the previous times they’d met. He’d tried to help the kid as much as he could. But something deep inside was nagging at him. It wasn’t enough.

He didn’t like it. He looked at Lyle, hoping for one of his usual unfunny quips to take his mind off the feeling. His partner was speaking to the other medic and it was all Miles could do to help Janine heave Spider off the cold concrete.

“Get off me!” Spider suddenly burst out, surprising everyone. His eyes were still closed, but at least he was gaining consciousness.

“Spider? I’m trying to help you,” Janine continued. “You’re okay… Let’s get you into the ambulance. I need you to stand up. I’ll help you.” She glanced at Miles for support, and he quickly pulled one of Spider’s arms over his own shoulder in tandem with Janine. The boy was extremely weak, relying totally on their support. It would have been easier if they’d just left him sleeping, because like this Spider could lash out at them in his disorientation. Together, they heaved him onto the ambulance and the gurney. He groaned and angry tears began to slip from under his closed eyelids. “Fuck!” he slurred as he curled up on the bed.

“He’ll be alright,” Janine said, slightly out of breath as she turned to Miles. “He’s dehydrated and has a high blood pressure, but I’m more worried about his temperature. He should be frozen, but he’s burning up. He might have taken something else.”

Miles took this in, thinking what the procedure was for this kind of thing. This was a minor with no known relatives, so he knew they’d have to accompany him to the hospital. At least until they could contact CPS.

“Okay, we’ll meet you at the ER. You going to St Mark’s?”

She nodded, holding the back of the ambulance open for Miles to exit. “We’ll do our best to hold him until you guys get there, my guess is that you’ve got a few hours at least until he’s lucid.”

Miles thanked her and pressed his radio as she pulled the heavy ambulance door closed. “Fike, can you get me any info on that kid we bought in a few weeks ago?” He retreated to the car as the ambulance sped off down the empty street. He watched it go, feeling like it was carrying precious cargo. Then he realised how ridiculous that feeling was and shook himself.

“Which one? Can you be more specific, Colonel?” Fike’s voice came crackling back over the radio.

Lyle slid back into the passenger seat. “Good spot, Colonel. Now can we get coffee on the way?”

Miles let his annoyance settle quietly in his stomach, ignoring his partner in favour of the radio. “Kid bought in for stealing an iPad from the Apple store. Sixteen.”

“Copy that, I’ll check for you.”

“There’s no way the kid told them anything,” Lyle commented, listening to the exchange. “It’s real sad, but he's on a one track road and it’s going nowhere good.”

“And that’s okay is it?” Miles surprised himself for his response. He was never normally this invested in a case. “We should just let it be?”

Lyle had the decency to look abashed. “What are we supposed to do, Colonel?”

Miles shook his head. He knew it wasn’t their individual responsibility to take in every lovable stray, but it still felt like a failure of the police department that a kid like Spider had been allowed to deteriorate to such an extent. “I don’t know,” he relented.

Thankfully, Fike was quick. “Miles Socorro, ward of the state.”

Miles’s heart stopped.

For a moment he thought… but it must have been radio static. “Can you repeat that, officer?”

A few seconds of confused silence went by as Lyle stared at him and they waited for Fike to get back to them. “Copy, Miles Socorro, ward of the state.”

Dread filled his stomach.

Vile nausea rose in his throat and he needed air… he needed to step out… Miles Socorro. She’d called the baby after him?

This couldn’t be right. This was a mistake, a coincidence. It had to be a common name.

“Colonel, you alright?” Lyle's voice was far away.

He was outside again, leaning against the car door, his head in his hands. He just needed some deep breaths. Miles Socorro. Miles Socorro. Miles Socorro. Miles Socorro. Miles Socorro.

It wouldn’t stop.

The name swirled around his brain incessantly, each time with more veracity and more vengeance, over and over again until he realised it would never let him go. The baby. The baby.

It was him.

Of course it was. He’d known it from their first meeting when the kid had squinted at him against the blinding sunset with an empty cider bottle in his hand.

“Holy shit.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder and vaguely registered that Lyle was concerned about him.

“I fucked up,” he said. “I fucked up. I messed it all up.”

Of course it was Miles. His son. Suddenly he thought of nothing else, gaining a sense of clarity for just long enough to press his radio once more. “Can you look up Paz Socorro?”

He didn’t care what anybody was thinking right now.

“Is this a relation, Colonel?”

“Just look her up!”

“She’s not on our system… Hang on, let me search…”

Miles held his breath, the nausea hot at the back of his throat, burning him from the inside out.

“Paz Socorro, deceased. Died in 2013.”

Miles couldn't stem the surge that retched its way up his throat. He bent double over the sidewalk, vomiting feet away from where they’d found Spider.

She was dead? Why hadn’t they contacted him? His son… the baby he’d made… had ended up here!

“Colonel, steady!” That was Lyle.

“Everything okay over there?” That was Fike.

Miles’s chest was imploding. He’d failed. He’d failed. How had he not been made aware? How could he have not bothered to check? They’d agreed it was for the best they had no contact, but Miles could never, never have imagined…

Suddenly all he wanted was to be by Miles’s side. His son’s side. Spider.

He didn't bother replying to either man, instead wiping his mouth roughly on his cuff and slamming the door behind as he climbed back into the driver’s seat. Lyle quickly followed him back inside the car but seemed too stunned to address anything. “Er, Colonel…”

“We’re going to the hospital.”

A moment of silence passed. “Who’s the kid?” Lyle asked in a low voice.

Miles gripped the steering wheel tighter than he had in his life, his knuckles turning white. He couldn't say it. He couldn't say it out loud. Then it would make his failure real. His life’s failure, real. “I think you know,” he said in a voice that sounded nothing like his own.

Lyle sat back in the seat and allowed Miles to drive the short distance without pressing any further. “All good here,” his partner replied when Fike radioed back.

Miles’s voice had stopped working. He wasn’t sure any of him was working any more.

#miles spider socorro #miles quaritch #recom quaritch #spider socorro #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #atwow #avatar modern au #lyle wainfleet #my stuff: survivor #bonus scene #quaritch pov

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wonhosmistress · 5 months

Text

J.Hoseok x gn!reader/ fluff; subdrop mention

A/N: I promised myself I wouldn’t write anything new considering I have like 6 WIPs pending but decided to put my emotions into my work✨

Hoseok is the type of partner that no matter how long y’all been dating and how many times he’s reassured you, your mind always seems to drift off and wonder. Why? Why is he still with me? Hoseok always manages to catch your doubts drifting and does his best to distract your from your own thoughts

Hoseok is the type of partner that after an intense bdsm scene he notices when you begin to become unresponsive when asking you questions, if you’re okay and if you’d like your favorite food/drink/snack but only to realize how far you’ve gone into your subdrop as you dissociate from the world around you.

Hoseok is the type of partner that wraps you in your favorite cozy blanket and cuddles up with you as he strokes your hair softly and kisses your forehead and cheeks. Hoseok pulls you close to him as y’all are lying down and allows you to cry into his chest, reassuring you that you’ll be fine and that it’s going to be okay.

Hoseok is the type of partner that hears you sob into your pillow in the middle of the night attempting to keep yourself silent. Hoseok wakes up and looks over at you asking you what’s wrong? You sit up and stare and tell him how you had a nightmare that he had left you and didn’t love you anymore. Only, for him to pull close to him and sleep on his chest, “Baby, I wouldn’t do that. I’m still here arent I? Through thick and thin,I promised you that, didn’t I?”

#jung hoseok #bts fluff #jhope x reader #jung hoseok x reader #bts x reader #bts imagines #dom!jung hoseok

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catindabag · 4 months

Text

TBOSAS on Crack short take (67)

*How Sejanus got accepted by his Capitol peers* Read [this] first.

Festus: Hi, Snow bro!

Coryo: Hi, Creed. How’s life?

Festus: Pretty great! Yesterday, my mom even gave me some sweet baby potatoes to share with my rats!

Coryo: Your mom’s weird.

Festus: She’s on her ✨me and myself era✨.

Coryo: How about your dad?

Festus: Rehab.

Coryo: Poor guy.

Festus: Don’t worry about it. I’m practically the man of the house now!😎

Coryo: Festus, you’re 8.

Festus: You’re 8 too.

Coryo: I’m an orphan.

Festus: I live in a cozy dumpster without any parental supervision. So technically speaking, I’m also an orphan-

Sejanus: *appears out of nowhere and hugs Coryo like a koala* Greetings, my love!😍

Coryo: Hi, Seji Pie.

Festus: Coryo, who’s the new kid and why is he hugging you like a giant koala on crack?

Coryo: He’s my new friend-

Sejanus: Hi! I’m Coryo’s boyfriend and future husband!

Festus: Future husband?

Sejanus: Yup! I’m Sejanus Plinth! Nice to meet you!

Festus: Um- I’m Festus Creed-

Sejanus: Do you want to be the ✨Best Man✨ at our wedding?😀

Festus: You’re already planning your wedding?!

Sejanus: Of course we are! After all, it’s going to be the ✨Royal Wedding of The Century✨!😍

Festus: But I’m too young to be your ✨Best Man✨!

Coryo: And I’m too young to have a boyfriend or fiancé, but here we are.😑

Sejanus: My Coryo is so cute and shy. I want to hug him forever!

Festus: Forever?

Sejanus: And ever and ever!

Festus: Snowy, my cabbage loving brother, are you sure about him?

Coryo: His family is rich.

Festus: Richer than Arachne?

Coryo: Yes.

Festus: Nice! *turns to Sejanus and gives him a bear hug* Welcome to the Capitol, Sej! You’re now my new best mate!

Sejanus: *hugs back* Oh, thank Panem! A new friend to keep and hide in my home!

Festus: You’ll keep me where?

Sejanus: I’m so happy, my love!

Coryo: Whatever you say, Babe.

Sejanus: We should celebrate!

Festus: Yey! Free food!

Coryo: Can we order chicken nuggets and fries today?

Sejanus: Anything and everything you want, my love!😍

Festus: Can Odysseus and Penelope celebrate with us?😀

Sejanus: Sure! Where are they?

Festus: *shows them his 2 favorite freaky pet rats instead* This is Odysseus and this is Penelope! Aren’t they cute?🥰

Sejanus: They’re rats?!

Coryo: Ugly looking rats.

Festus: Yup! But I just call them Ody and Penny for short.

Sejanus: Are they even clean?

Festus: Clean as me!😊

Sejanus: Do they have rabies?

Festus: Rabies? Is that edible?

Sejanus: Festus-

Coryo: *whispers to Sejanus* Creed is currently living in a “cozy” rat infested dumpster without parental supervision.

Sejanus: *whispers back* Why? Is his family homeless and poor?

Coryo: No. They’re rich.

Sejanus: So why the dumpster?

Coryo: His crazy mother is the current ✨Queen of Neglect✨.

Sejanus: And his dad?

Coryo: Rehab.

Sejanus: Rehab?!

Festus: Yeah.😞 My germaphobe dad was forced by my evil mom to live in a dumpster for 2 years because of the rebels.

Sejanus: That’s so sad!

Festus: More like a tragedy. He was even loved and respected by many. However, after the war, my poor dad became borderline catatonic and unresponsive.

Sejanus: But what about your mother?!

Festus: She’s on her ✨me and myself era✨.😔

Coryo: It’s the war trauma. I mean, Mr. Creed’s a germaphobe and he was forced by his crazy wife to hide in a filthy dumpster for too long.

Festus: It’s ok. I still love my dad and my darling dumpster.

Sejanus: You’re making me cry, Creed!😭

Coryo: Babe, don’t feel bad. Festus is fine. He’s doing great! Look!

Festus: *is now talking to his pet rats* Oh, you look so beautiful as always, Penny!☺️

Penelope: *happily squeaks in return*

Festus: Oh, thank you, Penny!

Odysseus: *squeaks in jealousy*

Festus: Ody, don’t be jelly. Penny is your wife.

Coryo: Yup. He’s totally fine.

Sejanus: But he’s talking to rats!

Coryo: That’s normal. It’s part of the ✨Capitol Culture✨.

Sejanus: Talking to ugly rats is a ✨Capitol Culture✨?!

Festus: And heritage!

Sejanus: Coryo-

Coryo: Talking to “sacred” animals is part of being Capitol, my love.

Festus: Except for birds. We don’t talk to birds.

Sejanus: Why?

Coryo: Birds can snitch on you.

Sejanus: That is so weird.

Coryo: You’ll get used to it.

Sejanus: Have you ever-

Coryo: Talked to animals before? Sure! I do it almost every day! I even had to bargain with an angry wild dog for some lima beans and expired ham last night.

Sejanus: You can bargain with wild animals?!

Coryo: It’s a Corso thing.

Festus: We’re both from Corso.

Felix: *jumps out of nowhere* Hi, Coryo! Hi Creed! Who’s your new friend?

Sejanus: Hi! I’m Coryo’s husband!

Felix: Snowy is married already?!

Coryo: Not yet. He’s my friend-

Sejanus: Boyfriend.

Felix: Oh, ok. Nice to meet you. I’m Felix Ravinstill!

Sejanus: You’re an evil scheming Ravinstill?!

Felix: I’m sad now.😢

Coryo: Babe, don’t call our poor Felix evil. He’s sensitive.

Sejanus: But he’s a Ravinstill!

Festus: He’s our baby!

Felix: I’m baby.

Sejanus: Oh. Sorry. I didn’t know.

Felix: It’s fine. I’m used to it.

Sejanus: Being called evil all the time by complete strangers?

Felix: Along with my family.

Sejanus: And you’re not bothered by that?

Felix: It’s a reoccurring Ravinstill problem.😞

Festus: True. I mean, the Districts already hate us for barely winning the war.

Coryo: To be fair, we only won the war because everyone on both sides quickly declared a ceasefire to mourn the death of my gorgeous father and his gorgeous looks.

Sejanus: Oh, yeah! My evil old man mentioned that tragic news to me before. He was even crying his heart out and screaming at everyone that he will never ever recover and truly love again.

Coryo: My father’s death really affected your Pa that much?

Sejanus: Yup. My scheming father and ✨Gorgeous General Crassus✨ were extremely close-

Coryo: How close?

Sejanus: They were roommates.

Coryo: You do know that my dad’s death was just an accident, right?

Sejanus: Really?

Coryo: Unfortunately.

Festus: The rebel who shot Snowy’s daddy even cried and confessed on live TV that it was just an honest mistake on his part.

Felix: True. The poor bastard was supposed to aim his rifle at the sky to signal their whereabouts, but ✨Gorgeous General Crassus✨ was such a catch that he and his other rebel friends got distracted-

Coryo: Leading to my poor daddy’s accidental death. End of story.

Felix: However, because of that incident, people from both sides began to hate my family even more.

Festus: Not gonna lie, sending ✨Panem’s Prettiest Player✨ to the front lines without any warning or explanation was our country’s biggest mistake.😔

Felix: Coryo, I’m so sorry!

Coryo: Felix, it’s fine. You don’t have to feel sorry for me all the time.

Sejanus: Even though District 13 started the war that almost eradicated all of you?

Felix: District 13? What’s that? Is that food?

Coryo: *whispers to Sejanus* His irreversible war trauma is currently protecting him from the ugly realities of this world.

Sejanus: *whispers back* So District 13 still exist?

Coryo: I’m poor. So let’s just pretend it doesn’t exist anymore.

Sejanus: Whatever you say, my love!

Coryo: But seriously, Felix is a good guy. You can rely on him.

Felix: Half of my family is either crazy or shady.

Sejanus: And the other half?

Felix: They’re just a bunch of Bichon Frisé puppy worshippers.

Sejanus: And which half do you belong to?

Felix: I’m a Bichon Frisé puppy worshipper.😔

Sejanus: By force?

Felix: Yeah. My family doesn’t even know that I’m actually a big Hello Kitty fan.

Sejanus: Do you even like dogs?

Felix: I have to like them or else my granduncle and my mother might disown me.

Coryo: His crazy granduncle is the ✨President of Panem✨.

Festus: And his mother is the ✨Vice President✨.

Felix: They’re also the leaders of the famous ✨Bichon Frisé Cult✨.

Sejanus: Your mother is the same woman who declared that eating cold spaghetti on Winter Solstice is a crime against humanity?!

Felix: Yeah. That’s my mom. She’s a true Ravinstill through and through.

Sejanus: And your dad?

Felix: Is also a Ravinstill.

Sejanus: So your parents are related?

Felix: We’re Capitol Nobles.

Sejanus: So?

Felix: That means that we’re all related to each other. Even Coryo, Festus, and I are family.

Festus: By blood!

Coryo: We’re cousins.

Sejanus: Really?! How come?

Coryo: We all share a common great great grandfather.

Sejanus: That still doesn’t add up-

Festus: He had 24 daughters and 16 sons.

Felix: And I have hundreds of cousins roaming around the city.

Sejanus: Yeah, I can see it now.

Felix: Don’t even ask me about my deadly family reunions.😞

Sejanus: So that means that my future children with Coryo will have the crazy Ravinstill blood running through their veins-

Felix: You can’t run from my ever expanding bloodline, bro. Sooner or later, your family will also be part of it.😔

Sejanus: But that’s impossible!

Coryo: Just accept the inevitable.

Sejanus: Ok! No problem, my love!😍

Felix: So can we start over?

Sejanus: Sure! You start.

Felix: Oh, ok. Um- Hi! I’m Felix and I love butterflies!

Sejanus: Hi! I’m Sejanus and I love my Coryo!

Felix: That’s great! I support you! Let’s be friends!

Sejanus: Yey! Another new friend!

Coryo: Yey. I’m hungry. Let’s go eat and celebrate, Babe.

Festus: Free food!

Felix: New friend!

Lysistrata: *slides out of nowhere* Can we be friends too?

Apollo: Let’s be friends, new kid!

Diana: Me too!

Androcles: And me!

Gaius: Do you like squirrels?

Io: Do you like cheese?

Dennis: Let’s do some business ventures together!

Persephone: Have you seen my stew?

Palmyra: Try this expired muffin! I baked it myself!😀

Vipsania: Do you workout?

Domitia: Do you like cows?

Iphigenia: You can buy your groceries at my place!

Juno: A rich District peasant?!

Florus: I’m just here for the food.

Arachne: Is your sandwich recipe better than mine?

Urban: Do you like meth- I mean, math?

Pup: Do you like to sleep upside down?

Hilarius: Do I look good in shorts?

Festus: No! Shoo! Go away! Sejanus is my new friend!

Coryo: And my boyfriend!

Felix: Can we order pasta?

Apollo: Please be my friend!

Diana: Pretty please!🥺🙏

Florus: Where’s the food?

Androcles: Let’s be war baddies!

Coryo: Do you mean buddies?

Androcles: They’re the same thing.

Coryo: No, they’re not.

Androcles: Then we shall-

Sejanus: Fine! We can all be best friends forever!

Androcles: Really?🥹

Sejanus: As long as you eat my gumdrops.

Androcles: Ok!

Livia: Ew. No.

Hilarius: By the way, shouldn’t we all be in school right now?

Arachne: Shouldn’t you?

Hilarius: Nah. School is boring.

Arachne: But-

Hilarius: Let’s go celebrate our newly forged friendship instead!🥳

Sejanus: To friendship!

Everyone: *except Livia and Arachne* To our shotgun friendship!

Florus: Free food! Let’s go!

Io: I’m so excited! This is my first time skipping school!

*Meanwhile, at school*

Clemensia: *is currently sitting alone with her pet hamster* Hercules, this is weird. Why am I the only one sitting in class today? Where is everyone?

Hercules:. . .

Clemensia: Seriously, where the heck is everyone?!

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