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hearts4youz · 6 months

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The Captains Daughter: Chapter 13

A/N Happy thanksgiving weekend! hopefully yall got a break from work/school and are enjoying it. Make sure to take some time to rest and recharge your batteries!! I hope yall enjoy this chapter, i went through a lot while trying to spell 'Vegetable' lol.

Taglist: @abbiesxox @n30n-j3lly @weird-katthing @kayoyamamegame @kroowonderemporium @astro-ghoul99

Word count: 1.5k

Reader pov:

With a heavy heart and a broken pride, you trudge into the training room the next morning, Ghost's dissatisfaction still at the front of your brain. You don't look forward to whatever the Lieutenant has planned for today. Images of strenuous exercise and many reps flood your brain. Ghosts booming voice fills your ears as you are seemingly transported to the world of his training.

"Again," you picture him saying to you as you struggle to stand in your daydream.

"Again"

You picture yourself going at it again and again, with no mercy from your masked superior.

"Again," he says in that deep, Manchester accent.

his command replays in your mind, you are focused less on picturing the training, and more on his voice.

His deep, sexy voice, you think to yourself

as soon as you process that thought your face turns crimson.

no,no,no, don't think of him like that. You remind yourself.

Thankfully, you are pulled out of your daydream by a voice.

"LT's sick, I don't think he's planning on training you today," the man said.

Ghost? Sick?

You contemplate this, ghost doesn't seem like the type who'd take a rest day, quite the opposite actually.

"Oh, okay, thank you sir," you respond, despite your misgivings about the situation.

You leave the training room in search of Gaz or Soap, surely one of the two would know of ghosts whereabouts. You walk around the base, soldiers mill about the space, you walk down each corridor, hoping to run into either of them. You check the time, it is noon. You decide to walk towards the mess hall, It is open to soldiers from 11-1 for lunch, anyone is allowed to cook for themselves as long as hygienic policies are followed.

Just like you figured, Gaz is in the kitchen, humming to himself as he stirred a pot of something.

"Smells good," you say to announce your presence.

Gaz startles, "Y/N! I wasn't expecting you, what are you up to?"

"Oh, well I was just planning on taking some soup to LT, I heard he caught something."

"Ghost is sick?" Gaz says, surprised.

You nod your head affirmatively.

Gaz takes a step back to collect himself, "jeez, the big guy hasn't taken a day off outside of our designated leave since... since i've known him."

"I figured he'd be like that."

"Well it's real nice of you to make him some soup, he won't show it but i'm sure he'll appreciate it." "Anyway, can I see that recipe your going to use?" Gaz asks.

"I was just planning on using a can, something from the pantry," You said sheepishly.

"CANNED!?" Gaz puts his hand on his heart, doubling over jokingly.

"Seriously kid, you can't just bring your crush canned soup, plus anything in that pantry is probably spoiled." he says, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly.

"Alright then, I can figure something out." You say, Ignoring the use of the word crush

Gaz leaves shortly after and you are alone in the kitchen, you quickly find yourself in your element as you chop vegetables and bring the broth to a boil. A delicious, homey scent fills the kitchen, masking the smells of the military. Many people pop their heads in to see where the smells are coming from, offering you kind smiles and compliments. You are taken back to your teenage years, coming home after a long day of school and practice. Your father wasn't home yet, either deployed or still at the base for the day. You enjoyed the alone time, you found cooking to be fun. Eating the end product was especially nice. You remembered how Price's face would light up with pride when he came home to see his daughter cooking. He was so happy that you were growing up to be a responsible young woman, and an exceptional cook.

The timer goes off and you are taken back to the present. You take the pot off of the heat and pour it into a container. You take a plastic spoon and place it on top. On the way to Ghost's quarters you feel a bit nervous. Ghost has been extra bitter the past few days, what if he treats you worse because he's sick?

Ghost pov:

I lay in my bed and stare up at the ceiling, I feel like hell and my nose is stuffed. My throat is raw as well. I would have gone to work today, I always do no matter how awful I feel. But I can't face Y/N. Especially now that I have these feelings for her that I have yet to figure out. This is bad, really bad. It's gone from more than a need to protect her as a mentor, but as a need to make her mine. A need to hug her, to protect her, to tell her that everything is going to be okay. I just want to take her out on a date, be a real gentleman, treat her like a princess. I need to let all of these men that eye her up in the gym to know that she's with me. I just need her to be mine.

A blush creeps up my face and I almost smile at the thought of her, but I am Ghost. I am the stone cold lieutenant that everyone is afraid of. I'm not the guy who has a girlfriend. I'm not the guy who shows his soft side to anyone.

Y/N is Captain Price's daughter, if the relationship is even allowed within the SAS, I'm sure he himself wouldn't allow it.

I roll over and sigh, the blissful feeling of one of my nostrils opening up comes to me, I breathe air without sniffling for a few moments.

Knock, knock

Who could be at the door? I think to myself

"Come in," I muster, my voice hoarse.

The door opens and Y/N steps inside.

I turn cold and unwelcoming, "Why are you here?"

"I-I I uh... heard y-you were sick... I made you soup," She holds up a container and a spoon.

My expression softens, who could be mean to her now?

"You made this... for me?" I say in disbelief.

"Yes, sir" she responds, the nervous tone still present in her voice.

"But I train you so hard... I work you until you can barely stand up, you should hate me," I say, my stoic shield faltering slightly.

"I know you don't mean to be so rude, and I don't hate you. Its been less than a month and i'm already a much better soldier than when I arrived. I appreciate how hard you push me," She says warmly.

I drink in her presence before I respond, she looks so pretty even in uniform. I can see how pure she is now, not an ounce of meanness in her body. The way she makes my day with just a container full of soup makes her seem so domestic, It almost makes me forget that she's a soldier like me

"Thank you Y/N, I mean it," I say sincerely as she hands me the container.

I take the top off of the container, I catch a whiff of the hot meal, chicken noodle soup. I bring a spoonful up to my lips, I savor the flavors as the liquid seems to be an instant cure for my sore throat.

"Holy shit, this is delicious."

"Thank you," she replies, as if she's used to compliments like that.

"Where did you learn your skills, I imagine your mother is as good of a cook as you are," I tell her.

Wait, shit

Isn't her mother... Price's Ex Wife?

"Wait, I'm sorry... I totally forgot," I try to explain myself.

"it's fine, I really don't remember, I was really young."

I still remember the day I found out about Price's love life. I was a mere recruit, but I knew when to keep my mouth shut. One of my fellow peers, who eventually washed out before the end of basic training, did not. Price was in the middle of a lecture, when his then teenage daughter, who I know know to be Y/N called him. I don't remember what for, but I remember the asshole recruit saying something along the lines of 'Can't your wife do that?' this earned him about 50 pushups while another officer told us the story while price took the phone call.

Y/N and I didn't talk while I devorered the soup, I wondered why she didn't leave, she sat on a chair next to my bed. I decided to break the awkward silence.

"Whats the captain like outside of the military?"

For the next half hour, Y/N and I share funny stories at Price's expense.

If this is what being with her would be like, maybe this crush isn't so bad...

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early20sfailingplenty · 1 year

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Untangle me // Bo Sinclair x gn!reader

A/N: Hey! So I haven't written for the Sinclairs siiiiiiince, what, September 2022? This is a daydream I've been entertaining the last few days and I'm writing it to get rid of the rust on my Sinclair characterisations while I work on a gift for a friend. This is extremely self-indulgent; Y/N's panic with their hair is how I get with the tiniest of knots; I am genuinely ridiculous about it. Hope you enjoy!💖

Summary: Vincent and Lester, your usual go-tos for help, aren't available. But there's a knot in your hair, it's big enough to be scaring you, and you need someone to help you. You find the bravery to let Bo help you when he finds you crying. He's the last Sinclair who you ordinarily would trust with your hair. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and Bo ends up surprising the both of you.

Contents: Platonic or romantic (I leaned towards romance but your interpretation is up to you), reader has hair which can be combed/brushed through relatively easily), gender!neutral reader, reader cries/is panicking/calms easily once the knots are out of their hair, reader is mentally ill and the knot is basically the trigger of some kind of breakdown/meltdown (not sure which it is). Italics denote reader's thoughts. No triggers or warnings as far as I'm aware, this is fluff and softness.

Word count: 1, 361.

You stood at the bathroom sink, a small section of your hair pinched between two fingers, your comb in your other hand, your eyes swimming in unshed tears as you stared blankly at your reflection.

Just try again, Y/N, it's only a small knot.

But it wasn't. To anyone else, it would have been no big deal, it was just a knot. But to you, someone for whom their hair was as important to them as the air they breathed, it was grounds for panic. White hot fear ran through you and rendered you unwilling and unable to continue to try to get the knot out by yourself. You stared at the knot so intensely that when next you blinked, a tear slipped down your cheek, and then you broke.

Within seconds, one tear turned to two, which turned to six, and before you knew it, you were sobbing in front of the mirror, the tangled hair in one hand and your comb still in the other, your eyes red and puffy, your cheeks sticky with tears which couldn't dry before the next ones fell. You put the comb down and tried to separate the strands manually, blinking harshly against tears, but your fingers snagged three more times, your panic making you impatient, and you ended up making the tangle look worse, so you cried harder, you whimpered, your mind raced as you thought of scissors and oh god oh fuck I have to cut all my hair off, this is it, it's time to say goodbye -

The more you thought of having to cut your hair, the harder you cried, and the harder you cried, the faster Bo stomped through the house as he dashed up the stairs, slowing at the top as he stalked towards the bathroom, the door flinging open to reveal -

You, in a state he had seen his younger brothers patiently and painstakingly deal with every fuckin' night.

It was ridiculous, really, but they all grew to accept this as a part of your nightly routine. Why you never did your hair before you got too tired to deal with the inevitable tangles and knots calmly, none of them knew, but it was a part of you they had grown to accept and learned to aid you in. Vincent and Lester were always your first ports of call when it came to needing help with your hair, but it was Bo's annoyance at you asking his brothers for assistance that strongly deterred you from asking him for the same favour.

"Oh," Bo groaned, already planning on leaving you to it, "not this shit again," he waved a hand at you dismissively as he started to turn around.

You had visibly perked up at the prospect of help but as Bo turned around to leave, a gasp for air which was far too broken to actually bring in oxygen to your lungs ripped out of you and Bo froze.

He had never heard you make a noise like that and after tonight, he never wanted to again.

"Oh, darlin'," Bo sighed, "I ain't so good at - " he gestured vaguely, "this." He wanted to help you, or at least, get you to quit your whinin', but he didn't think he had it in him to be gentle. Not like his brothers could be. Even if he could get the knot out, he'd surely hurt you. Hurting you, of all people, wasn't fun for Bo. It never failed to surprise him, all the things he could do to you being many of the things he simply wouldn't, couldn't.

"Don't gotta be good," you mumbled and swiped a hand across your face, sniffling, "just gotta be better'n me. I can't get it out, Bo," you sobbed, "and I'm gonna have to cut my hair all off because Lester and Vinny aren't here to help me and I can't - I can't get it out and I'm gonna have to say bye-bye to my hair" and just like that, you were gone, sobbing on your knees on the bathroom floor, that fucking knot still clutched in your hand. Way in the back of your head, you knew that this was just one small thing which had tipped you over the edge in your mind; you had been hanging there for a while if this was what had set you off in the end.

"Like hell you are," Bo scoffed. He shook his head, stalked over to you. You flinched, your shoulders curled in on themselves, but Bo only came up behind you and kneeled down, grabbing your comb from you and easing the tangled hair from between your fingers. "I ain't sure I can be gentle, Y/N, but I ain't lettin' you cut nothin', either. Vincent would sign my ear off."

You giggled, a wet sound, and Bo smirked behind you as he got to work on the knot in your hair. His chest felt heavy in a good way when you laughed through your tears, but the enthusiasm in his endeavour to rid you of the knot made him a bit harsh, and you visibly winced. "Ow, Bo!" Your hand flew to touch his hand, trying to still him, but he pulled himself away. He couldn't help you if you had his hand in yours.

"Sssh, darlin', s'okay," He ducked around to press a kiss to the apple of your cheek, which was damp with tears. "Jus' sit tight, lemme work." In truth, almost as soon as he had started to work in earnest on the knot, it had come undone, so now he was simply brushing the rest of your hair for you, being careful and slow like he had seen his brothers do.

You pre-emptively winced every time the brush moved up your hair, but pain never came after that first time. Sometimes Bo swore to himself or he would make a thoughtful noise and you could practically see the frown on his face as your tears finally began to slow, your panic melted into relief now that the source of your anxiety was being dealt with by someone more level-headed in this situation than you, and you felt content to let Bo do his thing. He was slow, slightly rough with how he set the comb into your strands but then the downward drag was almost... gentle?

Before long, you could tell just by how your scalp felt that there were no knots or tangles left in your hair, but Bo was still combing, and you had started to tip your head into his hand, like a cat wanting more affection.

"Want it braided, darlin'?"

"It's okay, Bo, I can - "

A scarred wrist came into view as Bo plucked your satin scrunchie off your own wrist, taking it for himself as he did his best to copy his brothers' movements from previous times he had watched this precious nightly ritual be carried out. He wasn't half bad; it was slightly uneven, a little loose, but Bo had done it, so it was perfect.

"All righ'," Bo sighed, handed you back your comb. "Took a few, but I got it. All sleek n' pretty, darlin', jus' as y'like it."

Your hands flew up to feel around the braid, and you gasped happily, smiling widely as you spun around to face Bo. He flinched at how quickly you had moved but he didn't step back - he trusted you, even as you threw yourself at him in a hug, holding him tightly. Your anxiety was settling slowly, your tears had slowed almost to a stop, and with the source of your fear gone, you only wanted to be held. "Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you thank you, Bo! Thank you for helping me."

You grinned and Bo's face softened into a smile.

His arms came up to wrap around you loosely but then all at once, he melted into you, your comb still in his hand. If he had known it was the key to your affection, he would have picked it up long before his brothers had ever had the chance to do so.

Everyone go and thank @darklylucid for encouraging me to at least try to write for Bo and for being my soundboard, sentence structure editor, and for helping me write for this fandom for the first time in seven months.💖

#slasher x reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax 2005 #house of wax 2005 x reader #bo sinclair fluff #bo sinclair comfort

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mastermindmiko · 7 months

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Rivals

Pairing: James Potter + reader

word count: 2903 (this was actually supposed to be 1k or less, but ig more for you guys)

Summary: You and James are Quidditch rivals. You're Quidditch captain and he's Quidditch captain, it only makes sense, right? But what if there's maybe something else fueling your hatred?

Warnings: Injuries and kissing. Lmk if there's anything else

I wrote this all in one go, 1:30 am so if there's any mistakes please don't mind them, and lmk.

Hey! if you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

"Hey, Diggory! watch out!" I scream as loudly as I can over the shouts of the crowds, while Amos barely registers my warning before he notices a bludger flying his way. His eyes widen and its only a second before he gets knocked off his broom and down to the ground hurtling at a great speed, with how fast he was going no one was going to be able to catch him.

I hear him thud to the ground and I hear madam Hootch call a time out while I zoom to reach him. I throw my broom to ground and drop to my knees. Amos is moaning on the ground in pain. He's got a hand over his chest, and I can only assume that he has at least a few broken ribs.

Several other players are coming off their brooms to check on the injured player. The rest of my teammates, the Hufflepuff team, come down and fuss over Amos. Madam Promfrey enters the field and shoos everyone from around him. I look around and I notice the person who was the cause of all of this.

"What the hell, Jordan?" I shout and the Gryffindor, who's looking guiltily at Amos while a few of my teammates help lift him up. Jordan opens his mouth to reply, but gets interrupted when someone steps in front of him to reply instead, "Calm down, Y/L/N. That's just the way the game works."

"Shut up, Potter." I say, then turning to madam Hootch, "That's an obvious foul, he's not allowed to do that." madam Hootch doesn't get to say anything before, once again Potter interrupts. I swear to Merlin that boy has no manners. He says, "It's not a foul, that's just the game, and if you don't think you can handle it then just quit."

"Why would I quit when I'm the best damn chaser in this school?"

"You're obviously more of an idiot than I thought you were if you think that you're the best chaser." Potter folds his arms and he looks at me with a smirk, the most annoying one I've ever seen in my whole life, if I might add. I lunge at him, but Amelia holds me back.

Potter only smirks more, and I narrow my eyes at him trying not to scowl. I turn back to whisper something to Smith, my team's beater, "Aim for Potter."

"There will be no aiming for anyone, miss Y/L/N. The match will not be continuing." madam Hootch announces, and my mouth drops at the news and I hear Potter gasp. I ask, "Why not?"

I heard another voice saying the words with me, so I turn to Potter to give him a glare. He only gives me a glare back before we turn to madam Hootch. She sighs, "There are only half the players there are supposed to be in the field. Half of each of you're teams are injured. We'll reschedule the game."

I huff, and madam Hootch puts her wand to her throat to announce the news to the crowds, they all groan in disappointment and start clearing out. I grab my broom from the ground and start marching back into the castle on my way to the hospital wing.

What's left of my team follow me to wing to check up on the rest of the team. Amos has already been put on the bed, and madam Pomfrey is pacing around the room going from one injured Quidditch player to another. I head over to Amos, and ask, "Are you okay?"

"I've been better." He groans, as madam Pomfrey hands him a glass of Skelegro. She tuts as Amos gags on the drink, and she frowns. I cautiously ask, "So, what's the damage?"

"You're not going to be able to play for a month." She says, and I gasp. She continues, "For the past year, every time there's a Hufflepuff and Gryffindor match most of the players end up here with me. Now, I'd expect this behavior from Gryffindors, but you, wouldn't have guessed in a million years."

I feel the guilt starting to fill me. I did push the players to take risks, but I never expected this to go this far. Amos finishes the cup and he nearly gags again before madam Pomfrey shoots him a glare. He says, "Maybe it's time, for the sake of team of course, that you forgive him..."

"No, absolutely not. It's one thing to toy with the team when it comes to Quidditch, but it's another when he manipulates my feelings into doing so." I say, and I head over the other players. I'm checking on Boot's broken leg when I hear the sound of it, the sound of his stupid strutting.

He goes to survey his team and no doubt madam Pomfrey is telling him about the whole not playing for a month thing because I hear his loud gasp from all the way across the hospital wing. I roll my eyes, and Boot gives me a look. I mumble, "Shut up, Boot."

He lifts his arms up, surrendering and then I feel an arm wrap around my shoulder. I already know who it is, having done this three times already. I shove his arms off me and he pouts, "What's wrong, love? We're off the pitch, shouldn't we put our claws away?"

"Leave, Potter." I say, irritated obviously, and Amos opens his curtain from beside his bed so he's able to see the interaction. Corner does the same thing from the other side of Boot's bed, and despite the look I give to both of them, they keep watching. Potter says, "Why would I do that when you're here?"

His friends, Lupin and Black enter the hospital wing and he lifts up a finger to me, signaling that he'll be back before he goes off to them. I fold my arms over my chest, and I see Boot looking at me. I huff, "What?"

"I heard he just asked her out to make Amos jealous." Boot says, and Amos flushes. This morning, Potter asked out Evans in front of the Great Hall. Half of Hogwarts' population were looking at her for the reply while the other half was looking at me for a reaction. I pretended like nothing of interest was happening, but Amelia already had a supportive hand on my leg. She said yes, and they'll be going out tomorrow.

"Why would I care about that piece of information? You should be taking to Amos he's the one who's got his crush going out on a date." I say, avoiding my teammates' eyes. Boot replies, "Yes, but your crush is the one that asked her out."

"I don't know what you're talking about." I reply and I feel like I've had enough. I did know what he was talking about. Last year, the day before we left for summer break, I spilled about my crush on Potter to Amelia and the girl can't keep her mouth shut for two seconds, shouted it back out loud in the Great Hall. I thought that everyone would forget by the time that we went back to school last september, and almost everyone did.

However, only two days before Quidditch season started, Potter himself, asked me out. I couldn't believe it at first, knowing how much he used to babble on about Evans all the time. Then out of the corner of my eye, I notice a few certain people from the Gryffindor table looking at us eagerly, I recognize those few people as the Quidditch team. Of course, I said no, but I couldn't say that I wasn't hurt.

Croner's injury was in his shoulder and since he could eavesdrop on us so easily I'd assume that it's fine by now. I head out of the hospital wing, and back to my dorm for a shower.

~~~

Without Quidditch practice, I realize that I have a lot more time on my hands. It made me realize how much I suck at my regular subjects. I wasn't planning on using them anyway, I wanted to be a professional Quidditch player, so acing charms wasn't really on my agenda. I had a quiz tomorrow and when I finally lost hope of passing, I went to my favorite place, the kitchens.

The elves were always so nice and eager to please. The place was just a few steps away from my common room which meant that I could go whenever I want and not having to worry about getting caught by any Prefects.

I was eating a muffin while doodling some plays that might be beneficial for when we get back to playing. The door opens and Wigby rushes to greet whoever came. To my displeasure, Potter enters. He beams when he sees me, and I groan at his horribly disguised acting, as if he'd want to actually see me without an ulterior motive.

"What you've got there?" he asks, looking down at my paper, and I flip it over quickly, remembering that these are the team's plays. I huff, "None of your business, and what are you doing here anyways, it's after curfew."

"I could ask you the same thing." He says, and I roll my eyes when he hops on the counter beside me. I look away from him, but I can feel his gaze burning the side of my neck. He asks, "What would you recommend? You seem to be here a lot."

"I recommend you getting out." I say, and he chuckles at my reply though I don't get what's funny. Wigby comes to me and asks, "Do you need another muffin miss?"

"Yes Wigby that would be great." I smile and she turns to Potter and he says, "I'll have one of the muffins that she's having."

"Shouldn't you go to bed? You must be tired" I say before I can stop myself, as soon as Wigby leaves. He looks confused, and he scrunches up his face the way he always does when he's confused, it's the look he has all throughout potions. He asks, "Why would I be tired?"

"Because you had a date this morning." I reply like it's obvious and finally look at him. He chuckles and then shakes his head. Wigby hands over the muffins in a plate and he grabs one before saying, "Oh no, I didn't. Lily just wanted me to ask her out to make Diggory jealous."

So Boot was right, he's always the one who has all the gossip. I grab a bite swallow slowly, and then say, "Oh, well, I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Because you like her, it mustn't feel good to help her get another guy." I explain and I look away from him. He gulps down the rest of the muffin and I wonder how he can eat so fast. He clears his throat, "Lily? No, I don't like her, not anymore. I was just trying to get back in her good graces after last year..."

He trails off and I already know what he's talking about. At the end of fifth year, Potter, Black, Lupin and Snape got into a big fight, and Lily got caught in the crossfire. It's all everyone talked about for days.

I don't say anything because I don't know what to say. There's a silence between us that I can't pinpoint if it's heavy or comfortable. He shuffles beside me, before he asks, "Now that we won't be playing for a while, would you like to go out with me?"

My blood goes cold, and I lose my appetite. I place my half eaten muffin back on the plate and I brush off the crumbs from my hands and jeans. I mumble, "I can't believe this."

"What?" He asks, confused again. I hop off of the kitchen island and I thank Widgby. I make my way to the door. He rushes after me and says, "Where are you going?"

"Away from you." I say, and I shut the door behind me, he catches it before it closes and he follows me. Maybe I can reach the common room before he does anything as audacious. He asks, "Why? I just asked a question-well technically two, but-"

"Why couldn't you just drop this?" I stop in my tracks, and turn to him with a glare. He stops as well and looks at me shocked. I have my finger lifted to his chest accusingly and he asks, "Drop what?"

"Acting as if you like me, when you're just trying to use me for Quidditch." I say, and he looks confused again. Merlin, he is not a good actor. I continue, "It's one thing to use your pranks to sabotage the team, but it's another to try and use my feelings as a means to get to that."

"I'm not-"

I scoff, and I don't let him finish before I storm off again. He jogs after me and attaches a hand to my wrist to stop me from going. He reasons, "I would never use anyone's feelings like that. I actually want to go out with you-"

"Please, and those feelings suddenly appeared for the first time two days before Quidditch season." I say, and he has that look in his eye look all the pieces of the puzzle are coming together. He says, "So that's why you said no- I- I didn't even notice that Quidditch season was starting- well I did, but not in a way that correlates to me asking you out."

"It just took me so long to pluck up the courage to ask you out-"

"So I guess that's why you're whole team was looking at us." I say with anger. He stays calm and explains, "They all knew I liked you, that's why they were looking, they wanted to see how it would go."

"You really think I'm that stupid to believe this." I huff, and shove my arm out of his grip. I started walking away, and I feel relief as I see the common room getting closer and closer. He shouts while still walking faster to get to me, "I really do like you."

"Bullshit!" I shout, before he once again, grabs my wrist to hold me close to him. I only get a second to register what's going on before he pulls me close to his chest and crashes his lips to mine. He cups my face and holds me. My hands stay at my sides while my heart races.

He breaks away when he realizes that I wasn't reciprocating the kiss. He puts his arms down. He sighs then says, "I promise I wouldn't ever use your feelings against you like that. I like you."

He looks sincere. I don't say anything, and I see his cheeks turn a tinge of pink. In a way, he looks sort of defeated and maybe that's what makes me believe him. He stutters, "I'm sorry that I kissed you like that-"

I stand up on tip toes and reach up to wrap my arms around his neck. I cut him off by placing my lips on his. He doesn't waste a second in placing both hands on my waist. He pulls me flush against him, and for a split second I feel like I might faint from how fast my heart is going.

A bright light flashing into my eye, causes me to break away from him. Two prefects are looking at us with shocked expressions. I try to move away from James, but he pulls me closer. I acknowledge that this is how it's going to be like from now on. One of them turns to the other and says, "I told you I heard something."

The other one rolls his eyes and lowers his wand that was blinding me. He sighs, "You two have detention tomorrow, now, go to your common rooms."

Bonus:

I sit at the table for breakfast and already start piling food into my plate, I wasn't ready to fail today's quiz at all, and I definitely wasn't ready for my detention. I start munching on some of my eggs and that's when I see my teammates all looking at me with identical smirks.

I swallow my food and look at them all, weirded out by the fact they were watching me. I ask, "What's made me so interesting all of a sudden?"

"Boot said that he heard that you've got detention tonight." Amelia starts, and everyone's grins widen when I nod my head. Boot himself continued this time, "I heard it's because you were out after curfew snogging Potter."

I flush and pick at my food with a fork. Where does Boot get all this information from. Amos points a finger to my face and teases, "Oh, Look! She's blushing."

I wonder if I can kick Amos off the team right now, I'm sure that I'll find a better seeker somewhere else in Hufflepuff. I scowl at him and blush more. I stutter, "You need to find a new way to get information because that's a complete lie. I wouldn't-"

Luck is always on my side because just at that moment someone slides between me and Amelia, wrapping and arm around my shoulder. Making my friends' grins wider. James presses a kiss to my cheek and says, "Good morning, love."

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wandafiction · 2 months

Text

Sisterly Advice - Just Us Chapter 16

Warnings: Mentions of Sex Toy, Fluff

Word Count: 2451

Series List | Chapter 15 | Chapter 17

================================

I'm currently in the elevator heading up to my penthouse going over everything that's happened these past few days, now don't get me wrong it has been amazing and it was like me and Wanda were in our own little bubble. But it's also a little scary, what I'm feeling, that is. I mean I know I like her, I like spending time with her, I like cooking her blueberry pancakes and I like when she just holds onto me. She is such a koala honestly. It just happened so quickly. We have known each other for four days and it's like I've known her for four years, it's just so easy to be around her, talk to her or even just cuddle with one another. This is a completely different feeling to any of my ex's, that's slightly cliché and an overused term I know. 'I've never felt this way with anyone else' ew. I never thought I would be someone to say those words, but here we are.

What do you guys think? Is this all going too quickly? Am I just kidding myself?

Ding, the elevator slides open and I see my sister standing there with a smug smile on her face and eyebrow quirked.

"Who are you talking to?" Her eyes scan the elevator for another presence.

"No one. Just myself." I shrug off her suspicious look making my way into my home.

I will talk to you guys later about this...whoever you are.

"You're talking to yourself again. Everything alright?" Carol jumps over the back of the couch getting herself comfortable before ushering me over to join her.

"Yeah just thinking about the past four days."

"Yeah the four days you've been practically MIA with this mysterious woman who you met, oh that's right four days ago. So how's that going for you?" She leans her side against the back of the sofa so she can see me better, I copy her position.

"I'm feeling so many things and I don't know how to organise and register them." I huff out frustrated that I can't organise anything in my head at the moment.

"Well what would Dr Raynor do?" Carol asks gently, she shuffles slightly closer to me so she can take my hands in hers to stop me picking at my fingernails.

"She would say to choose the one that is the loudest, and talk about why it might be the loudest."

"So what's the loudest one right now?" As soon as she asks the question an emotion I've been feeling since I met Wanda jumps to the front of my mind, and I don't like the emotion one bit.

"Terrified." I whisper out, ashamed that I'm feeling it in any way shape or form.

"Why?" I shrug my shoulders. "That's not an answer." My sister points out.

"I don't know, I just feel this fear, like deep down inside that if I get close...that...if I let her in….all the way in...that…" I don't want to say it, because if I say it, it will make it real.

"You're afraid to lose again." I bow my head at my sister's observations, if she wasn't military she would make a fine therapist.

"No Im fucking petrified." I feel my eyes become glassy with tears.

"Why?" Carol tilts her head in question.

"What are you my therapist now?" I scoff, but also hate the way I said it.

"No I'm not. I mean I could get Dr Raynor on the phone if you want. How long has it been since you last saw her?"

"We have our once a month appointment. Speaking to her Thursday."

"Okay that's good. So can I stop asking the questions and give you some sisterly advice."

"Please do." Carol moves so she is right next to me, wrapping her arm around my back pulling me close so I can rest my head on top of hers.

"Take the leap." I move my head off of hers confusion showing on my face, I didn't expect her to be so blunt. "Take the leap, and let this woman catch you. Also I can't keep calling her a woman so what's her name?"

"Wanda." She repeats the name back to me once she has heard it, also giving an approving hum. "But what if she doesn't catch me."

"Then I will be here to fix all that is broken."

"I'm scared."

"I know. But you don't know what will come of this if you don't take the initial jump. You need to take the jump."

"But how can I tell her about my shit, when I don't like talking about my shit."

"Don't tell her straight away, but she will need to know because you know someone will bring it up and she will be there and lying leads to arguments."

"I'm not lying."

"You're lying by omission."

"I don't have to tell her straight away do I?"

"No you don't. You will know when the time is right. Just don't wait too long, okay."

"Okay."

"Now enough talk about this. Can we go do something?"

"Shopping?" Carol perks up at the suggestions.

"Yes! We can go to the mall, grab some lunch. I need new clothes anyway and a gift for the wifey for our anniversary. Oh and then we can go to that nice Italian place you like." I laugh at my sisters rambling.

"Sounds like a good plan to me."

"Can we take the G-wagon."

"Well, duh! We are going shopping. We both know how much stuff you're going to end up getting, might need to hire a moving truck." She gently pushes me off her as she scoffs.

"Okay rude."

"But not a lie."

"No, not a lie." She grumbles as I get up from the couch to grab the keys to the car and my wallet.

Once we get in the elevator, Carol stands in the middle looking around suspiciously, eyeing up each of the walls before turning to me with squinted eyes.

"What?" I tilt my head at Carol's suspicious behaviour.

"Did you and Wanda fuck in here?" When I tell you I choked, I fucking choked.

"What! No, God no! Why would you say that?"

"Just making sure I could lean against the wall without the risk of it not being clean so to speak."

"Okay me and steph only did it in here once. ONCE! and after your little meltdown about it, it's never happened again."

"Good, I guess. I mean I couldn't imagine what it was like when little ole Miss Cooper caught you two. She was just trying to get to the parking garage."

"Oh don't worry, me and steph couldn't look the woman in the eye for months after. But after our break up, Miss Cooper said good riddance and we now laugh about the situation."

"You talk very openly about steph?"

"Why wouldn't I? It was good while it lasted. Just 6 months of fun." My sister now turns to me looking me straight in the eye.

"Yeah but it wasn't all fun and games, was it?"

"No but Dr Raynor has helped."

"I was going to say, no happy reminiscing about that bitch please."

"Got it no reminiscing about the abusive ex." We both laugh at how serious I said it, but it's true if my sister doesn't want to talk about her then I won't. I guess my coping mechanism of laughing about everything is not to everyone's taste.

Ding. Me and Carol walk out of the elevator the whole elevator journey, we were just talking about everything and anything, just catching up on life. It has been way too long since I saw Carol last and to hear that my niece, and also God Child, questions where I have been breaks my heart. I need to plan a visit.

"So what are you getting the wife?" I ask Carol as we both climb in the car.

"Well it's our 5 year wedding anniversary, but also our 10 year of being official anniversary so its got to be something really fucking special." All the way to the mall Carol is rambling out ideas of what to get Maria, but always end up saying something like 'not good enough' or 'not worthy for my wife'. I can't even put in my input because she doesn't stop between each idea. I mean I have ideas for what she can do, but it's her wife not mine so I'm not much help to her at this point.

~~~~~

"My legs hurt!" I complain as Carol drags me into yet another shop, my arms loaded with bags that are not mine. "We have been at this for hours. I'm hungry"

"This is the last shop I promise, then we can go to a coffee shop to grab a drink and a sandwich."

"Fiiiiine!" I was complaining so much, I didn't even realise what shop we walked into until Carol was holding an item in front of my face. A strap on. My sister was holding a fucking strap on in front of me. "What?"

"I said. What about this one?"

"What about this one what? Why are you holding that thing so close to me." I swat it away as Carol huffs.

"As one of the anniversary gifts. Do you think Maria would appreciate it?" She drops her hand to her side now waiting for an answer.

"I feel kind of uncomfortable talking about my sisters sex life, with my sister."

"Oh get over yourself. Just tell me yes or no?"

"Have you used one before?"

"Well yes, of course I have just not in a while, so I thought a new one might spice things up you know." She shrugs as she puts it back down on the display counter.

"Why not a double ended one?"

"They do them?" Oh my god this conversation is going places I do not want it to go. I love my sister a lot but this is not a conversation I was ever expecting to have with her. Like ever.

"Well yeah. You know so you both get pleasure out of the experience."

"Talking from experience?"

"Okay. Nope I can't do this. I love you, but I am not going to be explaining my sex life to you."

"You used one on Wanda yet?" Carol laughs as I turn to walk out the shop.

"Right, that's it. Nope." But I mean truthfully the answer is no.

"I'm joking. I'm joking." Carol grabs my arm to spin me around. "Please, I don't know what half this shit does."

"Talk to the lady at the counter."

"No, because it's embarrassing."

"This is embarrassing." I gesture between the two of us.

"I know. Please I will pay for lunch and dinner." I scowl slightly, but my face softens when I know I'm not going to win.

"Fine." I take a breath before walking back into the shop having a look around.

Carol is following me like a lost puppy as I look over the shelves at what they have. Once I've done a quick scope, and have a few things in mind I turn to Carol.

"Have you ever used handcuffs?"

~~~~~

"Thank you for dinner." I look up to Carol from my food as I take another bite of my chicken parmesan.

"Of course. Tell me what's the loudest emotion now?" I swallow my food, before gently placing my fork on my plate to take a moment to figure it out.

"Relaxed."

"Good. So tell me about Wanda." She gives me a smug smile as I roll my eyes at her.

"Really, we are being all sisterly now?"

"I know I wasn't always there, but I'm here now. So throw it at me and I can see what sort of sisterly advice I can give you.

"Alright. Also you know that's not your fault, you were literally on tour. You are in the air force, you go where they say you can't just decide to come home whenever you please." We both laugh, as she had definitely tried it once when she got the news two years ago.

"I know, I know. Now humour me, tell me about Wanda." She sits up more in her chair giving me her full attention as she slowly eats.

"What do you want to know?"

"How did you meet?"

"You know that."

"Right one night stand. Got it. What did she think of your penthouse?"

"I don't really know, we were too busy for her to take it all in."

"Ew gross. Didn't need to know that."

"I literally just helped you buy new sex toys and stuff like 2 hours ago."

"Okay, yup, I see what you're saying now. We shall never talk of it again." I shake my head at her with a small smile on my face as I finish my meal. "But I do have one question."

"Oh god. Okay this one time. What is it?"

"Is she good in bed?" A sly smirk plays on my face and I shrug my shoulders. "Oh! So you're good in bed. Got it."

"Moving on please!" The waiter comes over, interrupting our conversation, thankfully, handing us over the dessert menus while taking away our empty plates.

"Okay so you met Friday. What do you know about her?" Carold leans both her arms on the table, leaning her head on the back of her hands.

"Well. She is a divorced mum of two teenage boys."

"So she's a milf?"

"Oh yeah." I nod my head, just thinking about Wanda makes me happy.

"Oh look at you. You look like a love sick puppy." My eyes go wide as I hear the words leave her mouth.

"Woah. Hold up on the L word there. We are not there."

"Whatever you say. You love sick puppy." Before I can hit her Carol catches my hand like it was the easiest thing in the word, oh right it is with her military training. "So how old is she?"

"33." I mumble, not prepared for my sisters reaction.

"33. Y/n she is the same age as me!" She doesn't look mad, at least not from what I can see. "I'm impressed."

My jaw drops. "How so?"

"Who knew a 22 year old multimillionaire could pull a hot mama." Carol wiggles her eyebrows at me as I groan. "She isn't after your money right?"

"I don't think so. She didn't seem to ask loads of questions or anything, she just accepted it, after getting over the initial shock."

"Well that's good."

"It is." Carol leans forward a bit more.

"So tell me more."

================================

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda x you #just us series

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mysecretlittlelibrary · 11 months

Text

Just Let Me Adore You Pt. 11

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: well, y/n is kidnapped so there's that, weapons, implied unethical experimenting

Genre: Kinda angst ig

Summary: You’ve been dating your boyfriend, Bruce, for 3 absolutely blissful years. He’s a scientist and professor who is as smart as he is kind and if anyone asked, you were sure you’d spend the rest of your life with him. That is until two mysteriously charming men that Bruce swears are dangerous take an interest in you that threatens to turn your entire life upside down. I mean… what exactly are you supposed to do with two gorgeous men telling you something that suggests that basically everything you think you know is a lie? And why does part of you have enough doubt to wonder if they might be telling the truth?

Series Masterlist

***

Wanda did get your emergency code and she practically ran off in the middle of her date with Vision when she saw your text. It only took her a few minutes to realize something wasn't right when she got back to the apartment. First of all the front door was open, no, not just open, it was splintered. Someone broke the door and Wanda winces at the realization. The landlord is going to be so pissed about that, but she can't really worry about the door right now. Her initial instinct is to call out for you when she enters the apartment but there's a sinking feeling of dread settling within her at the thought, reminding her of your SOS, reminding her that something is wrong. She scans the living room quickly, the coffee table is askew, the rug is half flipped, and one of the armchairs is on its back. She frantically pulls out her phone to call you and when she sees it ringing on the floor her heart stops. She wasn't quick enough to get to you. Something terrible has happened and she couldn't get here in time to help you. Without a second thought, she conjures a portal that takes her to the only other people she trusts with your safety.

"You two." She says. The sound of guns cocking sound throughout the room in quick succession. It looks like she's interrupted a meeting but right now she can't be bothered to give a damn about that. "Alright, if all of you want to leave this room alive I suggest you lower those guns because I promise that I could kill all of you faster than any of you could pull a single trigger." She says without even looking around the room at any of them. Steve's hands shoot up as he prepares to defuse the situation before it goes south.

"Lower your weapons. She's a friend." He says to the men in the room and slowly, hesitantly, firearms are put down but not away. "Wanda we're in the middle of something you can't just do... whatever the hell that was whenever you feel like it." He sighs.

"I thought you had security watching my best friend." Wanda says ignoring Steve's admonition.

"We do. Can we talk about this later?" Steve says.

"No, we cannot because if you have security watching her, watching our place, you have to explain to me how it is possible that our apartment was broken into and y/n is currently missing." She grits out.

"What?" The color drains from Steve's face at her words.

"Meeting dismissed." Bucky says to the room.

"Boss this is-"

"Out. Now." Bucky glares, not letting the random guy finish his statement. All but two men scurry out of the room quickly.

"Y/n's missing? You're sure?" Steve asks.

"Positive. I was out on a date and she sent me an SOS message, I got there and our front door was broken, furniture was overturned and her phone was dropped on the floor when I tried to call her."

"Can you find her? Like with magic, I mean?" Steve asks.

"Maybe." Wanda says.

"Maybe?" Bucky asks.

"This kind of thing isn't exactly a one-step process, okay? Locating people with magic it- it can be a little complicated." Wanda says.

"You've never been here and you got to us just fine." He frowns.

"I've been inside your heads before getting here was light work." She shrugs.

"Excuse you?" Steve blinks.

"I won't apologize for it. You wanted to date my best friend I wanted to make sure you weren't going to hurt her. Especially after what happened with Bruce. She wouldn't consider seeing you otherwise. I'm the reason she agreed to that date that got yall together." Wanda waves her hand dismissively.

"You went inside our heads?!" Bucky asks.

"Oh relax it's not like I went through your trade secrets. I was only interested in your thoughts on y/n."

"You can control what you see?" He asks.

"Think of your mind like one of those rooms filled with filing cabinets. Every thought you've ever had goes in a file in a drawer in a filing cabinet, if you know what you're looking for you only open the drawer you need to open and knowing my way around people's minds is like my specialty when it comes to magic. And whatever you've thought about her that has you making that guilty expression right now Bucky I promise did not see it, this was before your first date with her."

"Invasion of privacy aside that is nowhere near our biggest problem right now so back to the abduction situation. You think you can find her, right? How do we help?" Steve asks.

"Unless either of you has magic powers you've been hiding, this part you can't help with. All you need to do is have a plan, a team, or whatever it is you do, have something in place for if I find her. I could probably go by myself depending on the situation but it's been a while since I've had to get my own hands dirty and why change that when my best friend has the mob to do her bidding? So just be ready to go so we can rescue her."

"Buck." Steve says.

"On it. Sam you're with me." Bucky says exiting the room with one of the two that stayed in tow.

"Clint I want you to find out what the hell happened with our guys that it was even possible for us to end up in this situation and see if you can find anything that will help us find her, security footage, something dropped at the apartment, witnesses, anything, Clint. I want answers and quickly." Steve orders the one still in the room.

"Will do." The guy nods and stomps out quickly.

"Whatever it is you do, Wanda, do it and try to do it fast." Steve says to her. Wanda nods at him before sitting at the table and closing her eyes. Steve takes a seat across from her, waiting for her to do something and hopefully quickly. They have to find you. They'll raise hell if they don't. They'll raise hell if they do find you too.

~*~*~

You blink slowly as you come to. The bright lights are overwhelming while you try to get your bearings, ignoring the way your head throbs. It's not the worst headache you've had but it certainly isn't making things any easier.

"Well look who's awake." You grunt when a loud voice fills the room you're in. You jump up and look around. Stark white walls surround you, except one. One plexiglass 'wall' is directly in front of you showing you the hallway filled with rooms identical to yours. All of which are empty, at least the ones you can see. A sinking feeling of familiarity settles like a pit in your stomach but you can't dwell on it long. You look around for the source of the disembodied voice. A camera stares down at you from one corner at the back of the room and you assume the voice is watching you from it.

"Who are you? What am I doing here?" You glare at the camera.

"I'm a scientist. You, if it wasn't obvious, are here as part of an experiment." The voice says.

"Do you have a name disembodied so-called scientist or is 'scientist' all you identify as?" You cross your arms.

"My name doesn't matter. And while you're in there neither does yours. You are subject AZM89273. That is how you will be referred to while here."

"Ooo I've got a serial number. How cute. Did you come up with that all by yourself?" You roll your eyes.

"If you think you're going to hurt me with your snarky attitude, remember that I am out here and you are in there."

"Oh no, sticks and stones my dude, sticks and stones. The snark isn't for you that's just my way of processing this whole straight out of taken nightmare situation, if it happens to annoy you in the process well, that's just a bonus. Look, personally, I already know there are only really, like, two ways this situation ends. I find a way out of here on my own and rip your throat out myself or if I don't there will be an army here in the next if you're lucky, 48 hours but I'd guess you've got at best 24 but most likely less depending on how long I've been in here already. Either way, your clock is definitely ticking. So I'm really not worried at all, you, however, might want to figure out an escape plan because they will burn this place to the fucking ground with all of you inside it, without a second thought." You say.

"You can make threats all you want but you're the one locked in a room." The voice says after a moment. He sounds snappy now like you're getting under his skin actually.

"For now, but like I said I'm not worried." You shrug.

"We'll begin testing in an hour." He forces out. If you had to guess, he's clenching his teeth.

"I'll be counting down the minutes! Anything I should study?" You watch the camera disappear into the wall, although you're sure you're still being monitored. "Alright y/n, got an hour. Let's brainstorm." You glance around the room. It's mostly empty. There's a bed and a clock on the wall and that's about it. Okay. You just threatened to rip out a throat so chances are they aren't gonna cart you out of here conscious. Which, likely means, sedation. They might use gas. That would be safest, they don't have to risk sending someone in here with you, but for all they know could have the lung capacity of a free diver. A shot would be risker but easier to ensure incapacitation. Either way, you probably won't be able to escape on your way to whatever testing they have planned for you. Your best bet is during the 'testing' or on the way back.

An hour goes by and suddenly gas fills the space you're in. Yeah, you totally saw that choice coming. You hold your breath for as long as you can but eventually, the sedative fills your lungs when they start to burn from not breathing. You barely catch two people in white suits entering the room before your eyes shut.

When you wake up again you're not sure how much time has passed really. A quick glance around makes you aware of a couple of things. You're facing the ceiling, you're moving actually. The lights passing over you are reminiscent of every drama ever when a character is being wheeled through a hospital on a gurney. Except this isn't a drama and while there are people pushing the gurney they are calm and quiet as they wheel you... wherever you're going, none of the chaos and yelling you've seen in shows. Your hands are also locked in place. Metal digs into your wrists when you try to move them. You don't want to make any sudden movements, maybe if you're careful they won't notice you're awake yet. Using your peripheral vision to the best of your ability you try to pinpoint where you're going, or at least where you are now. This is the one time in your life that you wish you had visited Bruce more often at the lab. You have no clue what the layout of this place is, you can't remember from the one time Bruce showed you around. Getting out of here might be much harder than you initially anticipated.

"-really think... is a good idea? Feels like... plan is going to..." Despite your efforts to focus, you miss parts of the sentence. Maybe you're not as awake as you thought.

"I sure hope not... all screwed." The response comes in broken too. You assume they're referring to whatever plan you are here to be part of. If they're so skeptical, why are they even involved? What exactly is going on here?

~*~*~

When Wanda's eyes finally snap open she lets out a gasp. Steve looks up at the sudden movement, waiting for her to say something, to give any indication that this time she was successful in locating you. She's been at it for hours and the longer this goes on the more anxious it makes them both.

"Did you find her?" Steve asks.

"Fucking hell." She breathes out.

***

Part 11/???

Tagged Users: @cjand10 @vicmc624 @mandijo17 @marvel-fandom23

#marvel fanfiction #marvel #stucky fanfic #stucky x reader #stucky fluff #stucky smut #stucky #stucky angst #werewolf bucky barnes #werewolf steve rogers #werewolf au #Just Let Me Adore You #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers

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heartfullofleeches · 2 years

Note

I have a idea!! What about a yan!wizard x darling! Princess

(This one got a little sad)

"Wizard? When do you think I'll be able to go outside again?"

You sit by your bedroom window, looking out at the courtyard below. If you strained your eyes, you could see the faint purple hue of the wall that surrounded the entire castle. The wizard gently strokes your hair, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

"Soon, your majesty. We're still working on getting rid of the blight that's taken over the kingdom."

"...Is anyone well enough to visit me, yet? The servants you made me are creepy."

They smile into your locks. "No, your majesty."

"Oh..." You look down. Moons ago, a terrible plague had broken through your small kingdom. A parasite that corrupted the minds of whoever it infected, and turned them violent. You had been asleep when it reached the castle; the screams of your family and friends waking you that night.

Heir to the throne, your safety was most important with your parents gone. The royal sorcerer locked you in your room, and blocked your view from windows. It's where you remained until the following day; them sneaking you food a promising it'd be over soon. The royal knights were able to push the threat away, from what they told you, but nearly everyone had been infected or slaughtered in the crossfire.

Those who lived worked in different sectors; from what the wizard claimed. Some were being treated by them, and others did not want to risk the surviving royal bloodline to become ill if they began to show symptoms. The wizard created living mannequins to serve in their place, and casted a shield over the castle; the outside danger far too great to let you ever leave.

"Is there anything I can do to make them less unsettling, my grace?"

You shake your hand in disagreement. "No.. unless you can make them talk. I'm lonely."

You were allowed to leave your room, as long as you didn't go far or a servant was with you. The castle was so quiet nowadays. Visiting every place you used to waste your hours no longer brought as much joy knowing there was no one to be there with you. The wizard visited you every day, but they weren't enough to null the loneliness in your heart. Their smile falls; voice uneasy.

"Am I not enough for you?"

"Heavens no! That isn't what I mean. It just gets a little... quiet with one person when there once was a crowd."

"I never get tired of talking with you. Come now, let's save this conversation for later. It's time to eat."

On cue, a servant walks in the room. It brings a tray of food to the window side, placing it down in front of you. It wore all black down to gloves on its hands and a veil on its face. Through the thin cloth, you could see the outline of its blank face. It looked to be a sewn head rather than the normal wooden one your clothes were dressed with. Once you tried to lift up the mask, but it quickly speed away.

"Thank you.." You know it won't reply, but it's the thought that counted. The wizard places another kiss on your head; a twisted sense of pride in themself for your obliviousness in what was really going on.

"We'll go for a walk once you've finished your meal. I've made new paints if you'd like to join me in my study. There is always a chair waiting for you - my dear."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere story #yandere drabble #Yandere wizard #yandere angst #yandere fic #yandere writing

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 11 months

Text

A Light in the Darkness {Part 07 of 07}

Eddie Munson X Hargrove!twinsister Reader

Chapter word count: 2K

Summary: After Billy died, you got stuck in a dark place, where you didn't have to deal with your feelings. Your friends don't know what to do but to drag you away from the many fights you pick. And life was dragging itself, an agonizing day after the other... Until Eddie Munson broke through the very high walls you built around yourself.

<- Previous part (06)

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

Intervention

“A what?” You ask, blinking a few times as your mind tries to process what's going on.

“We-”

“Let me speak,” Maxine says, interrupting Steve. “I've seen what Billy's death done to you, better than anyone.” She continues. “I'm the one to hold you at night, I'm the one to hear you sobbing, to wake up when you have nightmares and wake up screaming for your brother.” Max stands up and walks over to you, taking both your hands in hers. “You have a lot of anger, and I understand why, having lived with Neil all your life. And I understand it's all coming out the wrong way since Billy was gone, but this... This has to stop, (Y/N). I love you, but this has to stop. You're hurting yourself, and hurting us.”

“And putting yourself in danger,” Hopper adds, from his place standing near the couch. “This time you escaped... I'm not sure for how long I can keep covering for you.”

“There are five stages of grief.” Eddie finally speaks, and your eyes move to him, your heart beating faster for some reason. But you're used to it now, to the sensations Eddie provokes. It only dawns now, when you look at him in the crowd your family makes, that he lights up like a beacon. Like an anchor. And you crave to hear what he has to say. “You're stuck in anger and depression. And you have to feel them, yes, but you also have to move on.”

“How?” It comes out in a whisper, broken voice and tears rolling down. It's the first time you cry in front of them since the Battle of Starcourt.

“Start by letting it out of your chest,” Susan says.

“Yeah. You never speak to us.” Nancy adds. “We don't know what's happening.”

“Can you imagine how hard it is for me to understand?” Robins speaks up, gesturing at herself. “I joined the party too late. So I never know what to do when you freak out, go to the lake, or drive around. God knows where you go. What if you die? We wouldn't even be able to find you, and I get nervous and speak way too much, and these guys are the ones forced to bear me.”

A lot of them nod, and you just don't know what to say. Shrugging, you don't even try to resist the pull that moves you towards Eddie. He immediately stands up, arms opening to welcome you into his embrace. “It's alright. You're safe here, ok? We're your family, and we love you.” That makes you pull away, looking up at him.

And that's when he kisses you.

It's just a peck on the lips, but it makes your world stop for a moment. Your eyes are set on his as your skin burns deliciously, and for a moment there's nobody else there, just you and him... That until someone clears their throat.

“Are you done?” Hopper asks, and you collapse against his chest again.

But this time, you're not hiding. “If you guys wanna know... I'll tell you...”

They all move, giving you and Eddie enough space to sit down on the couch. Here, among them, you're safe, as Eddie said. And for the first time, you will force yourself to open up. It'll hurt, you know it, you feel it already, but you'll do this. For them, and for you.

“Billy was the one to protect me from Neil.” You begin, holding Eddie's hand, fingers laced together. “When we were kids, he took many of the beatings meant to me. Because I was his baby sister, even though I'm just seventeen minutes younger. And as we grew up-” A sob comes, you cover your mouth, closing your eyes tightly to push out some tears. “As we grew up, we started defending each other. I took some beatings meant for him too, even though he didn't like it. He wanted to take it all on himself, but I didn't let him. But many times when I was so scared, he was always there and... And now... Now he's gone and I feel like that monster can show up again at any time and I'll be all alone... And he'll beat me as he did and the only one who protected me and shared this burden is gone.”

You're a crying mess when you're done, shoulders shaking under the many sobs. Eddie holds you again, and you cry against him.

“It's true...” Max says. “But I didn't know it was like that...”

“Hey,” Steve whispers, and when you look, he's crouching in front of you. “I'm sorry Billy is gone. I always knew you guys supported each other, but this... I had no idea. But you have to know that you're not alone. You have me. And Maxine, Mike, Nancy, Robin. Dustin, Hopper, Susan, Lucas, and Erica. Even the rest of us in California.” He looks up at Eddie. “And by the looks of it, you have another protector as well.”

Sniffing, you look up at Eddie, who smiles and nods. “Hell yeah. I'd punch a thousand Jasons for you, Princess.”

That makes you blush, and you hide your face again. “So, we need a plan,” Dustin says, and you hear him messing around with some papers. “Here.” He gets up and hands you a small pile of...

“What the hell?” You speak out, sitting up straight. “How... It's...” Shaking your head, the new tears rolling down making it hard to read what it says on the plane tickets, but you got the most important part. A flight to California, to the nearest airport to Lenora Hills. “You're all going?”

They nod all at the same time. “You kids do whatever you want. I'm going to win Joyce back.” Hopper mutters and you can help but giggle.

“It's only a week, between the end of the school year and the graduation,” Nancy says. “But it'll be good. For you and all of us.”

“Guys, this is expensive... You didn't have to do that for me...”

“We managed.” Steve shrugs. “And you deserve it. All of us do, it'll be fun.”

The smile comes again, and you don't know the last time you felt... Happy. For too long, you have pushed these people away. And you shouldn't have. There are no words to thank them for not leaving, even after you were mean, almost exploding in anger. “I don't deserve it... I don't deserve any of you. And I'm sorry. I just... Didn't know what to do. Where to go, or how to feel.”

“You don't have to know,” Robin says, kneeling down in front of you next to Steve. “We'll find out, together. We fought monsters together, we can deal with a very angry girl.”

That makes you giggle, and you look around. “Thank you. All of you... For not giving up on me.” The tears that follow are from happiness... From feeling found in this sea of darkness.

“Groups hug, everyone!” Dustin calls and gets up as everyone comes closer.

You're still broken and hurt, but you'll probably feel like this forever. Billy has part of you, but now, you have to learn to live without him. And live a life he'd be proud of. Be happy, because that's what he wanted for you.

°°°

The sun is blinding, even under the beach umbrella. Steve and Robin are lying in the sun, trying to get a tan. Nancy is swimming with Maxine and Erica, and the rest of them are trying to find stuff in the sand with a small metal detector.

“You two,” You call. “Reapply sunscreen. I won't wipe moisturizer on your asses if you get all burned.”

“The sun isn't on my ass, so it'll be fine,” Robin says, and Steve chuckles.

“What are you laughing at, Harrington? You're the babysitter, you'll be the one wiping moisturizer in all our asses by the end of the day.”

“You wish.”

“Nah, I have a boyfriend to do that for me.”

“Ouch,” Robin adds. “She just shoved your single state all over your face.”

“Not for much longer...” He mutters, and you turn your head to look at him. “Nancy and I been talking...”

“Oh.” That has been going on for a while. And one of the first things that happened when you set foot in Lenora Hills, was Jonathan and Nancy breaking up. They're fine now, but the romantic relationship is over, probably for good. “Good. Remember to send me an invitation for the wedding.”

“Speaking of you, people with hopes for the future, where's Eddie with our sodas?” Robin asks, and you sit up, looking over your shoulder.

And there he comes, chatting with Eleven, each holding one side of a styrofoam box. “Finally.” You say when they reach you. “Did you get them from the factory?”

“Yup,” Eddie says, sitting on the towel next to you. “We were squeezing the lemons.” He smirks and you pull him into a kiss.

“So.” Eleven starts, sitting in the shade with you and Eddie. “After graduation, what are your plans?”

That's something you didn't stop to think. And honestly, it's the last thing you want to think about on such a beautiful beach. “Mmm... I'm not sure. I wanna skip college. Find a nice job and just start my own life.” Shrugging, you take a deep breath. “I always wanted to work in a pet shop, ever since I was a kid. Might sound like something stupid, but I'd like it.”

“It's not stupid,” Eddie says, and El nods.

“Thing is, I don't even know where. I... I wanted to go back home, to Santa Monica... But I build a strong connection with Hawkins and, as crazy as it sounds, I learned to love it. And Lenore Hills... Would be a good restart. And I already have you, Joyce, and Jonathan here so... I really don't know.”

“There's a way to know,” Eddie says, and you look at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Might be an odd way to set our future but we could always change our minds after.”

>>>>>>>>>>The way he says <our> future has the butterflies in your stomach flying all over. “What way?” You ask, your eyes set on him.

Eddie pulls his bag closer to him and starts looking for something inside it. “Found it.” He pulls out a red, 20-sided dice.

“I'm not even surprised,” you say with a giggle.

“We could throw it. And let's say... One to six, we stay in Hawkins.” He starts, and as odd as it sounds, it makes you smile. This is so like him, and it reminds you of everything that made you fall in love with him. “Seven to 12 is Santa Monica, and thirteen to eighteen, we come here to Lenore Hills.”

“What about nineteen and twenty?”

“You throw again.” He simply says.

Biting your lip, you look down at the dice, taking it from his hand. “Let's get closer to the water.” Getting up, you both walk towards the ocean, holding hands. “Whatever number comes up... You'd go with me?” The questions come out with a touch of fear. What if he doesn't want to leave Hawkins, and your relationship is set on where you want to go?

“Absolutely.” He says, making you breathe out in relief. “It's you and me.” When you stop, Eddie looks down at you, a hand caressing your face softy. “I mean, unless you grow tired of a Freak in your life.”

Chuckling, you shake your head. “Nah. What would I do without your freakiness all over my life, Munson?” He smiles. “So let's do this...” You say, looking at the dice.

“Let's do this... And after our graduation, our life can finally start.”

Nodding, you tiptoe, your foreheads touching. “Alright... I'll let it fall... And our future shall be set.” You put a note of drama on the last part.

“It shall be,” Eddie repeats, and as he kisses you, long, lovingly, and passionately, you let the dice fall.

Nothing matters for that moment. Hawkins, Santa Monica, Lenora Hills... It's just you and Eddie, and the kiss that you want to taste for the rest of your days. When you pull away to breathe, a smile on both your lips, you take a deep breath before looking down at the dice.

Gasping, you can't help but smile. “Well, we won't have to throw again.” He says, and you nod.

“Our forever starts now.”

Taglist: @multific @lovesanimals0000

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raayllum · 5 months

Note

1 - favorite fic you wrote this year. 3 - favorite line/scene you wrote this year. 12 - favorite character to write about this year. 14 - a fic you didn’t expect to write. 21 - most memorable comment/review. And 24 - favorite fic you read this year.

I have no precision on fandom or fic... You are free to choose which fandom. Thus, you may make us discover other universes.

1) favourite fic you wrote this year

Looked through and discovered that I wrote 20 fics this year, which is wild, even if the majority are oneshots so... certainly have my pick an picks for various reasons!

These are the ones, probably:

This Fall Might Just Kill Me is 10.2k of Callum trying and failing to get purified, post-S4, and was one of my favourites and one I return to pretty often for a personal re-read. Very Callum/Rayla centric, some magic worldbuilding, and lots of devotion. Oneshot

Twice as Many Stars is 8.7k of Sir Sparklepuff is an existential horror story, the fic, featuring more religious trauma allegory than expected. Also a oneshot

Teach Me How to Name the Bigger Light a fanon s6 currently of 5 out of roughly 26-30ish chapters, and at 41k and counting. Main characters are Callum, Ezran, Rayla, and Claudia in about that order. It's a lot of fun, and a lot of angst

3) favourite line/scene this year

"If it's not you, it's not anyone" has one of my favourite love / Rayllum confessions I've ever written. I also loved this line from a (now non canon) fic regarding Kpp'Ar's feelings on Callum/people "There are many ways to mend broken things, if you can". I deeply enjoyed Callum threatening Nyx over Rayla's safety in this pre-S5 fic and this piece of description as well: "Callum knelt down in front of her, her cheeks heating as he reached up and pried the shawl away again, looking at the way the scar crept over her shoulder like dark ivy" + this Rayllum passage from "this fall just might kill me" (edit in the link):

“It’s because if I die,” he said, squeezing her hands. “I want you to be the last thing I ever see. And you are good enough, Rayla. You are . I don’t care if you destroy me. I don't care if we make each other better or worse or both. I love you. I’ll fall for you every time. I’ll choose to, I’ll choose you, every time.”

I also really enjoyed writing Callum and Lujanne in "older but just never wiser" because it was interesting to revisit their dynamic now that well, Callum is older, powerful, and much more jaded/angry.

Drabbles wise this Rayllum one has one of my favourite metaphoric uses I've ever been able to pull off and I always love 1) writing messy Ezran and 2) Ezran being a little done with his brother's less than favourable methods, so this one for Ezran's "underhanded" comment for sure

But if I had to pick a singular exchange fic wise, it is of course the end of the Callum and Ezran fight from Ch4 of fanon s6, because it was a line that hurt me so much I was sad the rest of the day, and I also thought of it before writing a decent chunk of the boys' argument, so making sure it felt earned and hit the way I wanted to was very fun if also angsty. I apologize in advance lmao:

Only this time Callum scoffed, peeling away, his green eyes glinting. “Yeah, right.” “I am your king and I forbid you—” “You don’t get to forbid me from doing anything because guess what?” A manic gleam overtook his brother’s face. “I don’t fucking care what you think, nevermind what you fucking decree. I’m freeing Runaan, and that’s final.” “Then you can do it without my help,” Ezran said with a ragged breath. “Because I am not giving you my seal.” Callum stared at him with cold eyes. “Dad would be so disappointed in you.” But this time Ezran was ready for the blow, as he said, “Well at least I called him Dad."

A shameless plug OG fantasy world wise was definitely this lines from my sequel WIP. You can learn more about it/the fantasy world here <3

The Alpha of the Crescents may have worn her old friend’s face and mannerisms, but the girls they’d both been were long dead, just like their families. It was time to finish the job and bury them.

as well as

“Good. Vita willing I won’t live to see your next lives.” “Because seeing you again has been so pleasant,” Jamie muttered.

from book one

12) favourite character to write about this year

Given my above answers it's clearly been Callum, but Ezran has probably been my standout in "teach me how to name the bigger light," easy, even if I think Rayla's POV is going to sneak up on me more and more as the fic goes on, especially once we reach the chapters at the Starscraper. I've also written a somewhat decent amount of Kpp'Ar POV this year, I loved writing Claudia in "twice as many stars" in particular. Everyone? Can I say everyone?

But if I had to pick, Callum. (Non fic wise it's all the OG chosen one kiddos running around, I love 'em.)

14) a fic you didn't expect to write

Many days of angry muttering and half concocted plot points predated "teach me how to name the bigger light" and I am still slightly internally salty about it. However, it does feel good to have one last fanon season foray, especially since it's been four years since the last one, and I've been having a fucking blast, lemme tell you.

21) most memorable comment/review

This is hard because I do cherish every review and kind word I get (as well as anyone who leaves notes in their bookmarks) but there are some standouts. Basically anything from twice as many stars is fair game as well as this review on fanon s6, cause I'm gonna go the typical write route and say the long bois make my day / when readers catch onto the smaller details, that's absolutely my favourite:

@inamindfarfaraway <3 hope you've enjoyed the most recent chapter!

24) favourite fic you read this year

Have already done some TDP fic recs here so I'm gonna focus on what's in my bookmarks for now! I mostly read LOZ or SOC fics when I'm not making my way through TDP backlog, but this one for Six of Crows centreing on Inej and Kaz called High Wire Act stood out to me and I'm really enjoying "for the children we couldn't be" for TDP because it's trio centric and the exact kind of time travel fuckery I like to read.

This is tricky, though, cause I find most often the favourite things I participate in is like, the stuff I write because it's what I want to read and most tailored to my specific tastes? I also just don't read as much fic as I could / have in the past and it's hard to pick Just One Fic, y'know? So cop out answer, maybe, but this is the one!

#thanks for asking #forbidden op lore #a year in review lmao #perlelas #my fic #dragons rambles

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razzek · 11 days

Note

Top 5 MOST useful tools for blind people just starting out

Top 5 most fave tools for the blind overall

Top 5 least useful

Top 5 fucking weirdest and/or funniest

This is a big ask and I will do my best to answer, with the caveat that I am just a single blind person with memory issues who doesn't remember everything my blind friends have told me. XD I am counting other people as tools in this list because a person with eyes sometimes is a handy tool for us. XD

Top 5 MOST useful tools for blind people just starting out 1. White cane 2. Blindness skills training through centers, government programs like Vocational Rehabilitation, Orientation & Mobility specialists, and anywhere you can find it 3. Membership with the National Talking Book Library aka NLS in your state (US); I think the UK is RNIB and Canada has one, not sure about other countries 4. Supportive family and friends and other blind people if you can find them 5. Screen reader (NVDA is free for Windows, iPhone has VoiceOver, Android uses TalkBack)

Top 5 most fave tools for the blind overall 1. White cane and/or guide dog 2. Text to speech, screen readers, audio books, audio described movies and tv 3. Accessible smart phones (often iPhone but Android is catching up) 4. Bump dots (stick-on tactile dots you put around your home) 5. Braille and refreshable braille displays/notetakers

Top 5 least useful 1. Sighted people inventing crap without talking to any blind people ("smart" canes, "smart" shoes, dangerous devices you hold in your only free hand that claim to tell you what's in front of you but actually don't, screen reader breaking "accessibility" overlays, etc...) 2. That ring which only shows one braille cell at a time (that's not how anyone reads) 3. Strangers giving/yelling vague directions ("It's right over there!", "Oh my god watch out for the stairs (that you are halfway down)!", giving directions to the guide dog who doesn't speak English or any language because they are a dog...) 4. Hot liquid measuring devices (always broken, the noise they make is so fucking loud it's caused me a lot more injury than just sticking my finger in the hot liquid, will wake up the neighbors) 5. All but one use case of AI claiming to be for the blind, at least as far as I've seen

Top 5 fucking weirdest and/or funniest 1. Ping pong balls (good for measuring hot liquids) 2. Funnels (really helpful for pouring liquids) 3. The lanyard strap that sticks to the back of your phone so you can wear it around your neck (looks silly, is incredibly useful) 4. White cane holster (yes it's a thing, I have at least three XD) 5. Things being organized Very Specifically (close your eyes and YOU try to find the remote after someone put it in a random place! XD)

#just blind things #blindness #actually blind #blind #vision impairment #visually impaired #that last list was really hard cuz even the strange seeming tools #I don't think of as strange since they're just part of my every day #and I don't have a sighted person around to ask if something is funny/weird to them XD #the organizational thing cracks me up though #I have ADHD so bad y'all but I am almost superhumanly organized by necessity #when the meds are working I'm like a god of organizing strategies o_o #will help you get organized for money XD

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the-poets-might-disagree · 1 year

Text

well I've never written fanfic before, but the pic on the left made me think of a short story, so I wrote my first one (or something like that), if anyone happens to like it, I'll be more than happy ☺️ if not, well, I've had fun with it 😂

"They're almost here!" I shout as I see a text popping up on my screen, toothbrush in my hand, hurrying to get ready. I check the clock quickly, it's 1:10 in the afternoon.

"Huh?" he asks, while the water's running in the shower.

"G says they're here in twenty!" I shout a bit louder this time, while he steps out of the shower and wraps a tower around his waist.

"That's okay, you just get dressed and I'll take care of the rest" he smiles at me while running his fingers through his wet curls.

I finish washing my teeth while watching him in the mirror as he goes into the bedroom, opens the cabinet and grabs a brown shirt with straps on it, puts on his shorts then leaves the room.

As I catch myself smiling, I shake my head and take a minute to calm my nerves. This is all so crazy. We've been only going out for a couple of months, catching each other here and there whenever possible, but now that he has spent the last few days in town I haven't left his place at all, which he hasn't even settled into yet. There are still a couple of boxes everywhere but he leaves in two days again so he invited his friends over to check the place out this afternoon. We have spent the whole morning in bed, only to realize it was time to get ready.

I put on a little sunscreen, mascara and lip balm then go into the room to try and find a dress in my mess of a bag- I clearly wasn't prepared for staying over this long.

"Yellow or blue?" I look at him showing up both options while he grabs a couple glasses in the kitchen.

"I like the blue one" he says with a smirk and I instantly know he thinks about undressing me two nights ago when we got back from a Rufus Du Sol concert.

"Blue one it is" I smile as I tie my hair and double check if the dress is still good to wear for a second time. I join him in the kitchen.

"Music?" I ask while he's putting some snacks in bowls.

"Yes, please!" he grabs his phone, opens spotify, then slides the phone across the counter for me while turning on the bluetooth speaker. (No wonder the back of his phone is broken - I think to myself.)

I'm not really comfortable yet playing my own favorites so I just browse through the songs he recently played and put a Dylan song on.

"They're here" he says and I can see the widest smile appearing on his face while we watch as a car pulls up front. He walks to the door to open it, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. He told me how important his old friendships are for him so I know it's a big deal I'm meeting them, not counting that one time we ran into Giullian at an event in New York for a couple minutes the other night.

- - - - -

"Who wants another beer?" I ask as I get up to go into the kitchen. A couple hours have passed, while we were just laughing, listening to music and the guys sharing old stories. I slide the terrace door and walk to the fridge, and only when I turn to grab the bottle opener I realize he followed me back and is standing behind me.

"Are you having fun?" he asks with that smirk that I can't get enough of. His face is blushed, clearly tipsy. He steps one step closer, our faces almost touching.

"Yes, you?" I check, trying not to overanalyze if his friends like me or not.

He grabs my face with both hands, kisses me with his eyes closed, and nods twice. He seems so calm, so happy, and I'm glad I get to see this side of him.

We return to the poolside, I hand the beers out, and while he sits down I realize what a beautiful sunny afternoon it still is and how lovely he looks enjoying and soaking it all in.

"Guys, look here!" I tell them as I snap a pic, just making sure I'll never forget this moment. His smile says it all. ♥️

#i hate how the tumblr app is full of bugs #wont let me delete the duplication of the first line #driving me crazy but oh well #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothee chalamet fanfiction

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primatechnosynthpop · 2 years

Text

Like A Catabolic Seed (I Want To Destroy Everything That's Mine)

Something's wrong with Neil.

He knows that much, and the others know too. He tries to hide it anyway. Don't worry about it, guys, I'm fine, honest-- No, not honest, and certainly not fooling anyone. But he puts on the act anyway.

Beneath the washed-out yellow bathroom light, he wraps a bandaid around his paper cut and pauses to take a long hard look at himself in the mirror. Pushing back his overgrown bangs reveals bloodshot eyes whose colour looks a little off. Maybe it's just the lighting... yeah, that's what he'd say if someone asked, but deep down he knows that's not it. His stomach turns with discomfort. Below those discoloured eyes, his skin is pale and clammy, seeming to press a little tighter than usual around his cheekbones. And ooh, his mouth... it's itching again. Lately he's had the urge to gnaw on things like a teething puppy. And they're not acting up right now, but his forehead and shoulderblades have been periodically aching in a way he hasn't felt since teenage growing pains. Finally, his fingernails need to be trimmed--when did they get so long and sharp?

Well, he can't do anything about 83.3% of his problems, but at least he can trim his nails. He reaches for the vanity and--

The glass cracks as suddenly as the lightning bolt that struck him the day before. Neil staggers back, eyes wide, hands instinctively clutching at his chest. He can feel his pounding heart, and... it's wrong. The rhythm is all wrong. His breaths come quick and shallow and distorted, wrong. Gosh, his teeth really hurt. He runs his tongue around the inside of his mouth and ooh, that's not the shape those teeth should be but more importantly, man, I could really go for a nice bloody steak right now. Just the thought of sinking his teeth into flesh makes him start salivating right there in front of the broken bathroom mirror.

Never mind the nail clippers. He can just chew them down--not a usual habit of his, but in this case it'll be killing two birds with one stone. And oh does he ever want those two birds dead. Heck, he wants the whole flock demolished and served to him on a silver platter!

Back in the living room, his friends are waiting for him with matching concerned looks etched across their faces. Neil takes a seat next to them and forces a grin.

"Everything okay, Neil?" Kevin asks.

"Yeah, you sure took a while in there," Ryan adds with a questioning tilt of his head.

Dang it, did he really zone out for that long? Skin prickling, Neil gulps and looks away. "Sorry, guys. I had trouble finding the right bandaids."

"Ohh... my condolences, friend." Ryan smiles, appeased by the excuse, and pats him on the arm. "I've had that same trouble more times than I can count."

They carry on with their house of cards like normal. It all ends in bad luck, but Neil barely notices. He zones out for a moment, thinking about how easy it would be to tear the whole deck of cards to shreds with his overgrown nails, and then how easy and fun it would be to tear apart the couch and the whole clubhouse and his friends' bodies and-- No, wait, I don't want to do that, what am I...? And next thing he knows the fire alarm is blaring and Kevin is whipping out the fire extinguisher. A few flecks of foam spray onto Neil's cheek. He hisses as he flicks them away, nearly slicing his own cheek open in the process.

This is no good. If they're going to make a webisode this week, he needs to get his act together. Luckily, Neil knows just the thing.

Fortuna Daemonium, also known as corpse puppet demons, have a tried-and-true operating system. They rely on humanoid host bodies, but lack other demons' ability to directly possess a living host. No, they can only inhabit inanimate objects, rudimentary plant life, and--as their colloquial name suggests--corpses.

In its larval stage, the demon takes the form of an item which mortals can't resist picking up. Upon contact with a suitable host body, the demon bestows a bad luck curse upon the (un)lucky mortal. Once the curse kills the mortal, the demon is free to transfer itself into their body and take control. The trouble only comes when a demon acts too hastily.

A direct lightning strike against an unguarded mortal should have been fatal. It should have! Was the luck demon truly such a fool for thinking, as its host crumpled to the ground with a smoking crater in his chest, that it was free to propagate? And yet when it sent forth its demonic seed, it ran up against a barrier. The human's brain and soul were--and indeed are--still active. The demon can't possess him yet. Frustrating, yes, but not the end of the world. It just has to keep triggering bad luck events, and eventually something is bound to keep the mortal down.

But there might be a problem. Some humans' blood is far purer than others, and they ingest all kinds of terrible things, so as a precaution Fortuna Daemonium release demonic toxins into the host's bloodstream before taking them over. The toxins essentially provide a makeover that renders the corpse (normally it would be a corpse at this point!) more habitable for the demons, and better suited to their violent needs. If released into a living being, however...

There are a few recorded accounts of such a folly, but accounts of what happens to either the host body or demon differ greatly--unsurprising, when these events rarely leave behind survivors. It seems humans can fight with surprising ferocity if they think there's a chance it will save someone dear to them.

Sitting on his bed with his legs drawn up and his shoulders hunched, Neil lowers the horseshoe necklace over his head with an unexpected tremble in his hands. His fingers twitch and jerk involuntarily like they don't want to touch the good luck charm--which is pretty silly of them, because those hands are high on the list of body parts that could use better luck. He takes a deep breath in and releases the string on the exhale. There, now he'll be safe from the...

Safe from...

Neil hears and smells his sizzling flesh before he feels it. But when the sensation does reach his nerves, oh, does he ever feel it. Screaming in agony, he rips the necklace off and flings it across the room. It bounces off the wall and lands with a clatter next to his trunk full of puppets.

Panting, he stares down at himself. Twin trails of smoke wind like lazy rivers off the points where either end of the horseshoe briefly connected with his skin. At least his shirt isn't completely ruined, but it's a tiny bit singed around the collar. Maybe he should wear a jacket today, so the guys don't get suspicious. Yeah, yeah, and if they ask he can say...

"Wait, who cares about keeping up appearances?" he cuts himself off. "I've got bigger fish on my plate right now. Like: since when am I allergic to horseshoes?"

And why is there a ringing in his ears as he slinks cautiously toward the discarded necklace? Why, as he reaches for it, does a hiss escape his bared fangs? Why does he have fangs and claws all of a sudden when two days ago his teeth and nails were perfectly normal and flat? He blinks against the strain of his headache, and--hey, were his eyelids always oriented that way? His shoulders twinge as he kneels down, and he could swear there's something swelling up beneath the skin, just like it feels like something's swelling at the top of his skull. There's no bruising, no recent injuries apart from the lightning strike which could account for all this. He reaches for the horseshoe with a trembling hand--his skin has taken on a yellowish hue now, and the veins on the underside of his wrist are green, which he's pretty sure isn't a normal human colour--and braces himself for a scalding sensation.

If he clutches the horseshoe for long enough, will it drive out whatever evil force has lodged itself inside him? Or will it just kill him?

"This is no good," Neil laments. Chickening out at the last second, he retracts his hand and drops it in his lap. The horseshoe goes untouched. "I need to ask Ryan for advice. He knows all about curses and stuff."

(Kevin might know something too, since he moonlights as a ghostbuster, but that's different. Kevin would worry if he knew. Ryan wouldn't worry. Would he? Neil won't tell him if it'll make him worry.)

Neil shows up for work wearing a horseshoe necklace and a big nervous grin. And colour contacts, apparently, unless his eyes were bright green the whole time and Ryan never noticed. But no matter, they have a webisode to film.

Ryan gets in the car and turns the engine over. For a moment he tenses, hairs standing on end in anticipation of something dreadful happening. But nothing does. Kevin climbs in beside him, and Neil allocates himself to the backseat, where he sits with his knees pressed tight together and his nails digging into the upholstery and his mouth all clamped up like he's got a case of lockjaw.

"Neil, you haven't stepped on any rusty nails lately, have you?" Ryan asks, shooting his friend a glance in the rearview.

Neil blinks in surprise, and oh dear, his eyes are definitely not supposed to be that colour and his eyelids are not supposed to go that way. It's an exciting new look, but not a style Ryan thought Neil would go for.

"Huh? Uh, no, I don't think so."

"You'd better not have," Kevin admonishes. "I've warned you guys about playing barefoot at the abandoned nail factory."

Despite the increasing worry about Neil's condition, they reach the warehouse they've decided to film at and get through a productive rehearsal without much issue. Eventually they encounter another bout of bad luck: one of their cameras acts up, and when Neil leans in to carefully adjust the lense, the entire piece of equipment crumbles to dust. That garners a concerned eyebrow raise from Kevin, which Ryan acknowledges with a tight-lipped nod: Indeed, something's not right with him. But clearly Neil doesn't want to talk about it, so what can they do? At least the curse or whatever it is isn't hurting him directly anymore.

Kevin heads off to buy a replacement camera while Ryan and Neil set up the rest of the equipment. Nothing goes wrong, and Ryan manages to relax a little. He almost wonders if there's no curse after all, and Neil is right to accuse him and Kevin of being paranoid. Nothing really bad has happened since the lightning strike, and those are usually random anyway, so...

But then Neil goes stiff. The chair he was moving drops from his hands in a clatter and he leans over it for support, hissing like a feral cat in distress. Ryan rushes to his side and holds him upright--he's clammy to the touch, and green-tinted veins pulse frantically beneath his skin. Brushing his bangs aside, Ryan lays a hand against Neil's head to check for fever.

Oh. Oh, there are some very strange lumps on Neil's forehead. That's... not good. Icy dread stirs in Ryan's gut as he pats his friend down.

"Say, Neil, what are those protrusions?" he asks, trying and failing to keep his voice from shaking. "You're not... sick, are you?"

Neil doesn't answer. His discoloured eyes are glazed over, and his breathing is shallow yet echoey, like it's coming from far away. The horseshoe necklace dangles loosely around his neck. Too loosely, for a heavy steel object.

Something snaps into place in Ryan's mind, and he jerks back with a gasp.

"An electric car! With the luck you've been having, its magnetized engine should have attracted your horseshoe... unless..." He rips off the necklace, and his hand closes around moulded plastic. "Ah-hah! You thought you could fool us with a fake horseshoe necklace? But--" Triumphant revelation gives way to an even deeper concern and bewilderment. "Why not wear a real horseshoe? A smart man like you should know the plastic ones never work."

Neil's shoulders spasm. His head jerks back, and his bangs fall back into place to conceal the tumours on either side of his forehead. His mouth moves to whisper something. It sounds like he's saying Ryan's name.

"I'm here, Neil," Ryan assures him, laying a hand on his friend's arm to hold him steady. "I'm right here."

"No... Ryan..." Neil shakes his head, and it looks like the motion hurts. Thin streams of blood trickle down from beneath his bangs. He bares his teeth in a grimace and they're so much sharper than they're supposed to be. "Run away."

And that's the only warning Ryan gets.

Neil's head is going to kill him. And that's not just a dramatic way of saying it hurts a normal amount; no, it really and truly feels like his skull is going to burst open and splatter his brains everywhere. He tries to breathe in and out evenly, like that'll help. But he can't catch his breath, nor slow his frantic pulse. His body shakes, and oh my god it hurts so bad help please guys you have to help me it hurts it hurts it hurts--

Ryan is saying something. Neil can't hear the words over the buzzing in his head, but the tone sounds reassuring. It's funny--Ryan is rarely the reassuring type, but when he is it's almost maternal. Neil wants to lean into his friend's touch, to listen to those calming words and fool himself into thinking he's gonna be okay.

But his fangs and claws itch to tear something apart. And if Ryan doesn't get out of the way--

"Run away," Neil pleads. There should be tears pricking at his eyes, and it feels almost like there are--his eyes are hot and irritated, and there's something wet sliding down his face now--but his tear ducts seem to have sealed up. He can feel something slithering out of his back, like being stabbed in reverse. "Please--you can't--I don't want to--"

Is he pleading to Ryan now, or to the thing he's becoming? It doesn't make a difference anyway. Neither of them listen.

Neil doesn't mean to swing his hand in an upward arc, claws extended. He doesn't mean for those talons to shred the front of Ryan's jacket and dig into the flesh beneath. He doesn't mean to send Ryan falling back, jaws parting in silent shock, or to then leap on top of him while he's down and bury his fangs in his shoulder. He doesn't want to do any of it.

But also... maybe he does want to do it. His pulse settles into a regular rhythm at last, a healthy pitter-patter of excitement, and he can taste the saliva swelling in his mouth when he rips a chunk out of his friend's shoulder and worries it between his teeth. The pain is finally gone. Now it's just a rush of exhilaration. Neil breaks into a giddy grin as Ryan screams and writhes beneath his claws.

This is going to be fun.

Their equipment still isn't set up when Kevin returns. That's the first thing he notices, and he frowns at the sight of the filmmaking gear strewn around like furniture after a robbery. His frown deepens when he spots his friends jumping around in the shadowy corner of the warehouse, apparently play-fighting--complete with disturbingly realistic screams and growls and hisses. What is this, a warrior cats roleplay? Eccentric as they are, Neil and Ryan are professionals; they should know better than to goof off at a time like this.

"C'mon, guys," he says, clapping his hands together like an animal trainer as he approaches them. "Let's get to--"

The scent of blood hits his tongue, and Kevin's breath catches in his throat. What are they... this isn't another one of Ryan's creepy rituals, is it? He flicks a lightswitch on to illuminate the warehouse. When he does, his blood runs cold.

Four leathery green wings protrude from Neil's back. No, not quite leathery--they're rounded, and they look delicate, like leaves. Less delicate-looking are the golden horns sticking out the top of his head, with swelling around the base and trails of blood running down from where they protrude. Just looking at the extra body parts makes Kevin cringe. Those definitely weren't there before, and it looks like their growth wasn't pleasant.

But his sympathy for Neil is dampened by what he's doing. Rather, what he's already done. Ryan sways on his feet with a sickly expression, arms wrapped tight around his own torso like he's trying to hold his guts in. Maybe he is. There's a lot of blood streaming down his face and matting his hair and staining his tattered clothes. One section of his sleeve is torn away, revealing a flash of exposed bone where flesh has been shredded.

Kevin takes this all in as a tableau, his friends both having froze in place like deer in headlights when he flicked the light on. It's several breathless, stomach-churning seconds until Ryan turns his wide-eyed stare on Kevin. He opens his mouth to say something--a plea for help? A warning to stay back? Some odd little overly casual remark, haha, typical Ryan yeah I bet he's not even bothered by this sure yeah he probably likes it, we know him, what a weirdo--

But Neil--if this even is still Neil--lunges before Ryan can speak. He grabs Ryan by the collar and flings him across the room, where he crashes against a radiator with a pained yelp and crumples to the ground. Neil grins, exposing a row of gore-caked fangs, and leaps forward to finish the job.

"Hey!" Kevin rushes forward with no plan in mind, just protective instinct. "Get away from him!"

He grabs Neil's leg and pulls him to the ground moments before those claws would have slit Ryan open. Neil hisses and squirms around, but Kevin locks his arms around him--though not without getting an armful of fangs. Diluted by adrenaline, he barely registers the pain, but he can see blood leaking through his shirt sleeve and his stomach hitches at the dull scrape of enamel against bone. Drawing in a shaky breath, Kevin closes his hand into a fist and draws it back. "Sorry about this, bud."

He clubs Neil in the back of the neck, like they do to knock people out in TV shows. Neil spasms at the contact and goes still. For a split-second Kevin is terrified he hit him too hard--but no, he still has a steady pulse, albeit one with an alien rhythm. Thinking fast, Kevin peels off his flannel shirt and ties it around Neil to bind his arms and those creepy wings (which upon closer inspection look like plant matter, but a tear in the lower right one--Ryan must have gotten a few hits in during their scuffle--is bleeding, and it's definitely not sap. He considers just ripping the wings off, but... no. Possessed or not, he doesn't want to hurt Neil.) Once that's done, he sits back on his heels to catch his breath. The pain from his freshly sustained wound creeps in now, and man does it ever sting. And that's just one bite, so he can't imagine how bad it is for...

Ryan. Oh, god, Ryan. Snapping back to grim urgency, Kevin scrambles across the room to his fallen friend in such a hurry that he trips over his own feet. He falls to his knees at Ryan's side and turns him over, shuddering at the glassy look in his eyes.

"Hey, stay with me, man," he commands. "We need a plan, and whatever's up with Neil looks like a two-person job."

"Mmn... a plan. Yes." Ryan rolls his head back and shifts slightly. "I definitely... have... a plan..."

His mannerisms are those of someone reluctant to rise from bed on a cold winter morning. Kevin's certainly been there, and the thought of such a simple shared experience makes him half-smile despite the circumstances. That smile fades when Ryan's face contorts in pain and he curls in on himself with a hiss. After a few shallow trembling breaths he speaks again, more faintly this time.

"I think Neil... is possessed. An exorcism may be in order. But there could be--" He coughs, and blood dribbles from his lips-- "another way. If..."

He trails off, head lolling to the side. Kevin waits expectantly for him to pick back up, but... nothing. Swallowing down a spike of anxiety, he props Ryan up and brushes a strand of sweat-and-blood-soaked hair out of his unfocused eyes.

"What's the plan, Ryan?" he prompts. "C'mon."

No answer. There's so much blood seeping through Ryan's jacket. Is it too much? He's not sure. It looks like too much.

"Ryan."

Nothing.

"Ryan!"

Neil stirs from a dreamless sleep to the sound of a dripping faucet. There's a damp chill to his surroundings that makes the human part of him shiver even though the demonic part is unbothered. He opens his eyes to find himself surrounded by four rough-hewn dark gray walls; the floor and ceiling are the same material. There's a busted pipe sticking out of one wall which seems to be the source of the dripping. In the far left corner is a staircase leading up.

What is this, a basement? Ugh, I hate basements... Neil hisses in annoyance and tries to move, only to find himself bound by ropes. Twisting his head around, it looks like he's tied to a wooden column, the way pirates used to tie up their prisoners. Uh oh. Am I gonna be executed?

As if in answer to that question, the sound of footsteps alerts him to a human descending the stairs. It's one of the same humans Neil was playing with earlier--the one with the short dark hair and the flannel (he knows their names, but that information is locked away right now). But he's not wearing flannel anymore, just a plain white t-shirt and jeans and... what is that, a backpack? No, it's something else, something Neil recognizes, but... his head feels funny. It's like his mind is splitting in two, and the half that's in control right now doesn't know or care about mortals or any of their strange devices. He just wants to torture and kill and eat them!

The mortal flicks a lightswitch. Neil flinches at the too-bright yellow glow that flickers on overhead, curling in on himself like a dying plant and hissing like a vampire. Only when his eyes adjust does he realize the lights were off a moment ago. Come to think of it, his surroundings did look a little washed out, but he could see everything perfectly. Woah, I can see in the dark, he realizes with a grin. Cool!

"So... Neil." The mortal strides slowly over to him and comes to a stop a foot away. He unhooks something from his backpack and points it at Neil as he speaks. It looks like one of those weapons mortals use--the kind they only bring out when they're really serious. So it's surprising when the mortal's first question is: "You okay?"

"Huh? Uh, yeah..." It's not a lie; the ropes might be a bit tight, but they're not hurting him. Heck, he can barely feel them, nor can he feel the cut on his wing or the spot where the mortal clubbed him to knock him out. Demons aren't built to feel that kind of stuff. "How about you? That arm looks pretty bad."

He nods to the appendage in question. The bandages look hastily applied, and he can smell that the wound isn't fully closed. The bloodscent is simultaneously enticing and sharply concerning. The latter reaction is surprising, moreso when Neil reminds himself that he did that, and it's nothing compared to what he did to the other mortal.

"I'll live," the mortal replies tersely. Only his inflection is more like "I'll live," as in yeah, he'll live, but somebody else won't.

"Is that supposed to be a threat?" Neil wonders aloud. The testy look he gets from the mortal in response seems to confirm it. "Pshaw, you mortals are so pathetic! What are you gonna do to me?"

The mortal cocks an eyebrow, and one corner of his lips twitches into a smirk. It's an amused expression--or no, the human side of Neil recognizes, a wry and weary one. It's all in the tired eyes: this mortal is not having fun. He raises his weapon and presses its tip against Neil's upper abdomen.

"Oh, you'll see what I can do to you."

Throughout this exchange, the true Fortuna Daemonium is silently screaming from within its four-leafed prison. Such sickening irony, to be confined to a clover pinned to the shirt of its would-be host body! And there's nothing else nearby to transfer itself to--nothing that would be any more useful, at least. Exiting the clover without transferring to a new vessel is out of the question. That would expose it to human eyes, which is probably just what the human with the proton pack wants.

Yes, Fortuna Daemonium know exactly what that device is called. It's imprinted in their collective consciousness, ever since the incident several decades ago when a group of four middle-aged mortals wielding such weapons managed to wipe out a whole colony of demons. If this newly demonic mortal isn't careful, its naive taunting will get both it and the Fortuna Daemonium captured at best and demolished at worst.

Only one way out of this situation, then. A bad luck event at a scale that can reduce mortal and half-demon alike to corpses fit for possession. As the two humanoids continue their exchange, Fortuna Daemonium tunes them out and channels its energy into summoning a natural disaster.

"Hey, where's the other mortal, anyway?" Neil asks, tilting his head. "He was fun to play with. His blood was delicious."

The mortal (Kevin, something in the back of his head supplies--the wall between things the demon knows and things it chooses to forget is crumbling) stiffens at that. He raises his head to stare into the ceiling light and waits until his eyes begin to water before speaking in a low voice.

"Yeah, I'll bet it was. But we pathetic humans only have so much blood we can lose, you know."

Neil blinks. Something about those words send a shiver down his spine... but they shouldn't. He's a demon, isn't he? What does he care about mortals getting hurt? He's just gonna eat them anyway. Sure, they're more fun to play with when they're alive, but... hey, what do those two specific specimens matter? There's whole cities full of potential prey! And here he is all worried about...

About...

"But he's okay, right?" he asks despite himself, or maybe exactly because of himself and despite the thing he's become. The question slips out as a nervous little squeak. "He has to be okay. We still need to film our webisode, and the script calls for all three of us--"

What is he talking about? It's like he's on autopilot now, human mind running on instinct and overpowering the demonic influence. There's that sensation of the bisected mind again, and the thing that calls itself Neil is standing on the brink with the ground splitting under it. He doesn't know which side he wants to land on anymore--powerful demon or feeble emotional human. All he can do is babble out his instinctive pleas for the status quo.

"--And we can't find a replacement on such short notice!"

"Well, maybe you should've thought about that--" Kevin's voice crescendos into a yell as he jabs the proton gun into Neil's ribs-- "Before you murdered him!"

...What?

"Oww," he whines at the jab of the weapon before his human side can fully process the mortal's words. Kevin's finger trembles over the trigger. There's a scent emanating from the weapon that makes Neil's hairs stand on end. It's not quite electric, not quite acidic, but he knows on an instinctive level that he can't let it touch him. If he does...

His fragile human side catches up just then. Tears well in his eyes. When he blinks them back, he finds that his eyelids are angled the right way again.

"You mean Ryan is...?"

"I just buried him in the backyard," Kevin confirms grimly. He squeezes his eyes shut until a tear slides down his cheek. "So you don't dig him up and eat what's left of him."

"But that's... no, I'd never do that..." Neil shakes his head, lips drawn back in a grimace. His fangs flatten when he presses them together. "Ryan has to be okay. Things always work out for us!"

His demonic side can't put up a fight anymore. Neil doesn't want it to. His heart clenches with such monumental dread that it shudders back into its original rhythm, along with his frantic breathing. He can't feel his wings anymore, and his horns feel lighter, like they're hollowed out and ready to crumble. He can feel the blood caked onto his claws even as they shrivel back into regular fingernails. Ryan's blood. Are his organs physically rearranging, or is that just nausea? It might be nausea. Oh, geez, he's gonna be sick.

In this moment of emotional turmoil, he doesn't notice when the earth begins to shake. It just feels like another part of his breakdown. Dust crumbles from the ceiling, and none of it makes a difference. The whole place may as well cave in at this point.

Despite everything, watching Neil break down is the toughest part of the ordeal. The ground shakes--some last-ditch resistance from the demon, no doubt. Even so, Kevin stands his ground. He bunches up Neil's shirt collar in his free hand and pulls it taut, while with his other hand he aims the proton gun at his possessed friend's chest. He keeps talking as he does this, grasping at any words that'll keep the demon distracted.

"He was the only one of us with a necromancy license, you know. So we're probably never going to get him back."

"No, no, we have to... he can't be dead, we... I..."

Neil's words give way to uncontrolled weeping. The unnatural colour of his eyes, toxic green with dark violet pupils, drains like cheap dye down a sink as he cries. Soon his swollen eyes are their usual shade, everything is its normal length, and his wings droop in a lifeless shade of gray-brown. He curls in on himself as best he can around the ropes to bury his head in Kevin's shoulder. The pressure against his forehead loosens off the horns, and soon they and the wings peel off altogether, shedding like snakeskin. It's over. Or at least it will be in just a moment.

Kevin twists the proton gun around to aim perpendicularly at the front of Neil's shirt, angled so it won't hit the man himself, and presses the tip directly against the clover. As carefully as they plotted all this out, his breath still catches when he squeezes the trigger. He didn't count on an earthquake when they made this plan. If he's off by an inch...

The clover explodes to ash in the glowing beam's wake. A demonic screech rings out, and green smoke trails into the air. Neil gasps and jerks back. The instant the job is done, Kevin releases the trigger and powers down his proton pack. The earthquake stops immediately upon the demon's demise, but he could swear he still feels the ground shaking beneath his feet. He can't breathe for a solid ten seconds.

It takes Neil several shaky tearful breaths before he straightens up and ventures to speak. "I can't believe I killed Ryan. What are we gonna do?"

"Worry not, my friend," Kevin assures him, laying a hand on his arm. "Things aren't quite as they seem."

Half an hour prior, Kevin shoved a half-conscious Ryan into the backseat and a possessed bound-and-gagged Neil into the trunk of Ryan's newly upholstered electric car that he definitely acquired by legal means. Minutes later, the frantic driver rounding a sharp corner pulled Ryan awake with a gasp. After a few dizzying moments trying to determine his surroundings and process the hurried explanation his companion offered, the cogs of his mind were set in motion. Passing out from blood loss served as a good excuse to not explain the plan he definitely had earlier, but it's even better to actually have a plan for real in times like these.

"When he was attacking me, he kept making pop culture references," Ryan mused, stroking his blood-matted facial hair thoughtfully. "I think Neil's consciousness is still intact. The right stimuli could draw his human heart back out."

"You think so?" Kevin met Ryan's gaze in the rearview, then shifted to glance at their possessed friend in the trunk. (Come to think of it, it's a miracle Neil stayed asleep the whole time. The fight must have really tuckered him out.)

"Well, I sure hope so," Ryan replied cheerfully. "Otherwise we're dead meat!"

"Dead meat..." Kevin echoed, drumming his fingers against the wheel with his brow furrowed. Suddenly he turned in his seat and snapped his fingers. "That's it! What if we make it seem like he killed you? A shock like that is bound to snap him out of it."

"Oh boy!" Ryan sat up excitedly, only to wince as his injuries offered their sharp complaints. Quickly recovering, he rubbed his hands together with a grin. "I'll slather myself in zombie makeup and moan about dragging him to hell."

"Hm... I was thinking more the kind of death you don't come back from."

"...Oh." Ryan sat back with a disappointed huff and crossed his arms. "Well, that's a little bleak."

"I know--" And judging by Kevin's tone, it didn't sound like he was thrilled with it either-- "but it could be the only way."

And so that's exactly what they did. Hiding at the top of the stairs and listening in on the whole shindig, Ryan soon decided it was for the best that they didn't go with his zombie performance idea. He may not be dead, but he is still injured. Overexertion is the last thing he needs--to say nothing of the brief earthquake toward the end.

Now, as the figurative and literal dust settles, Ryan braces himself against the banister and hobbles down the stairs, slow-clapping as he does so.

"A marvelous performance, Kevin," he says upon reaching the bottom of the stairs. "You almost had even me fooled!"

Kevin nods with a smug little I-told-you-so smile, crossing his arms. Neil stares blankly at Ryan as he walks to his side, produces a switchblade from his pocket, and cuts the ropes to release him. Upon being freed, the blank stare continues for several seconds before Neil rubs his eyes and gulps--not nervously, but like he's trying to swallow down any further tears.

"Ryan... you must've come to forgive me before you ascend," he murmurs sadly. Without waiting for a response, he pulls Ryan into a hug. "I'm gonna miss you, bud."

"Er, yes and no..." Ryan wriggles out of Neil's embrace--as lovely as it is, he could do without being squeezed right now. "Of course I forgive you, but I'm not actually dead. 'Twas but a clever ruse!"

He punctuates that announcement with a raised finger and a cheesy grin. After a beat, Neil slumps with relief.

"Boy, am I glad to hear that. I dunno what I'd do if I'd--if you were really..."

He starts trembling again and breaks off into sniffles. Ryan offers him an awkward pat on the back, while Kevin lays a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"There, there, Neil. You're alright."

But is he really alright?

He doesn't stop wondering, even six hours later when he's getting ready for bed. Running his toothbrush around his mouth for the fifth time in as many minutes, with a little too much pressure and way too much toothpaste, he finds that he still can't get the taste of his friends' blood out of his mouth. He doesn't like the taste anymore. Now it makes him gag, which might be more morally upstanding, but it's way less fun.

He cups some cold water into his mouth, swishes it around, and spits it out. The blood taste is still there, and now his teeth ache from over-brushing. At least they're not fangs. Nothing is growing in ways it shouldn't be.

He's not going to sleep that night. If he does, he'll dream about doing it all over again and maybe even worse. Or what if he turns demonic again in his sleep? How many people might he attack without even realizing--other friends? Family members? Random strangers on the street? Too risky. Instead he fixes himself a bowl of cereal, sugary enough to keep him awake, and nestles into the couch with a blanket and pillow to watch TV. He tries not to fidget too much, but it's hard not to. It's like when you wear a backpack or hat all day and then you can still feel it on you even when it's not. He keeps thinking he can still feel the horns and wings. Yeah, Kevin assured him the demon was gone, but what does Kevin know? He didn't think there was a ghoul in spooky manor either, and look where that got him.

Speaking of...

Neil grabs his communicator wristwatch and dials in the frequencies to contact his friends as, on the TV, a jungle snake lunges to attack an explorer. The watch displays a split-screen as Kevin and Ryan answer a few seconds apart. The timing of it coaxes a subdued laugh from Neil. I guess all three of us are on edge.

"What's wrong, Neil?" Ryan asks. "There's no sign of the demon re-emerging, is there?"

"No, but..." He leans back and worries his lip between his teeth, cheeks colouring with sudden embarrassment. Are they gonna think he's being a baby? Maybe he just won't admit to being nervous. "Do you guys wanna have a sleepover? And in case I go all demonic again--not that I think I will--you can get out the bible and holy water and everything and, y'know, take care of it."

"Sounds like a plan. We'll be right over."

Despite himself, Neil finds himself dozing off at some point. Even before they actually arrive, knowing his friends will be there is like a tranquilizer. Next thing he knows, Ryan is nestled in on his left side and Kevin on his right, debating in hushed tones which Ernest movie they should watch ("Scared Stupid might be too scary for him right now--" / "Yeah, but Goes to Jail has the whole identity-stealing thing, and that might..." / "Well, how about Rides Again? That way we could bore him to sleep!") Neil smacks his lips and tries to shake himself back awake--he doesn't want to miss the evening entertainment--but it's a lost cause. He sleeps peacefully that night, and clovers don't show up in his dreams even once.

Yeah, it looks like he's gonna be just fine.

#good freaking morning people!!#id in alt text #for the like cover image thingie #it doesn't exactly match up to how i describe demon mode neil here because i made the edit a while ago #so i changed my mind on some details because im literally always doing that #hey did you know that i write stuff sometimes?

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