AscendingScript

aka the only fics of mine that really matter to me rn

Inspired by the incredibly fun Linked Universe AU by @jojo56830​ , and their latest updates. I do not know how the real plot is, and I’m taking free takes on their interactions and stories- but in truth, I know nothing. I just want to show my appreciation towards this wonderful AU.

The song “A River Flows in You” as a general mood for these drabbles.

Comfort. 

Most of them had nightmares. Some more often than others. The Wild Hero woke up from them terrified, breathless, and not remembering a goddamn thing of it.

His eyes wouldn’t adjust fast enough and he would be left blind for two, three tortuous, desperate seconds. A sob would form on his throat and he didn’t know why. His eyes would water and his chest would hurt and he couldn’t know why.

He did not like having others touching him when he was like this. He refused the Chosen Hero, the first one who tried to provide physical contact.

“I don’t like when people touch me” the young wild man would say.

The Chosen Hero, respectful as he always had been, never questioned him, never insisted again. Even when he suspected him.

And with good reason- for the truth was, that the Hero of the Wild was touch starved. 

What if people coughing up rose petals were considered the most sad and heartbreaking thing?  And offering the surgery to those who coughed up roses was considered really rude or inconsiderate?  The corpses of people with roses coming out of their mouth were considered very beautiful, and very depressing.

Just, flower meanings.

Daffodils are the flower of unrequited love.  Maybe all people cough them up, or people who are very sure that the love won’t be reciprocated.

Whenever Shin suddenlyappears in front of him, Sakuraba can’t help but feel a little nervous. Shinhas an imposing way of looming that always makes Sakuraba feel short despitethe fact that he’s actually two centimeters taller than Shin.

“I am datingKobayakawa Sena,” Shin announces.

“Er, yes?” Sakurabasays, because he knows that, all of Oujou knows that. Shin and Sena go on“dates” that really seems more like training practice but who is Sakuraba tojudge?

Shin continues tostand there. After awhile, he says, “I would like to hold him.”

Sakuraba nearly chokeson his own coughing and sputtering, not entirely sure he heard what he thinkshe heard. Surely not. Shin Seijuurou is not coming to him for sexadvice…right? (Right??)

“Er,” he says.

“I have often seencouples embrace each other before parting,” Shin continues. “I wish to do so.”

“You mean… you want tohug him?” Sakuraba says.

“Yes, that iscorrect.”

There is some moderaterelief there, because Sakuraba was definitely not ready for the otherconversation. “Oh. OK. Cool. I bet Sena would like that.”

Shin still looms, andif he were any other man, Sakuraba would think he was embarrassed. “Iwould like to hold him,” he says again.

“Right?” Sakurabasays, still incredibly lost.

“I… don’t wish to hurthim.”

Sakuraba is sure he isbright red now, panicking once again at the idea that Shin is coming to him forsex advice, and then it finally clicks: Shin breaks things.

Shin breaks prettymuch everything.

“Oh,” Sakurabasays, processing this. This is the man whose response to a friendly arm aroundhis shoulder was a full-on spear to the gut. The guy who, when holding anythingvaguely electronic, instantly broke it just by twitching. It is possible thatif he tried to hug anyone it would just end up being a hospitalizing tackle tothe ground. “Right. Gotcha. Huh. We’re going to need to outsource this.”

*

“The key is to workyour way up to a person,” Takami says, adjusting his glasses. “So we will startsmall. Shin, hold out your hand—flat, don’t move your fingers.”

Takami is in collegenow, and really should have better things to do than help Shin hug hisboyfriend, but this is strangely the kind of thing Takami really likes beinginvolved with. He places an egg in Shin’s hands. “Don’t move for five minutes.”

“Right,” Shin says. Hestares down at the egg in the flat of his palm. Takami stares at the egg.Sakuraba stares at the egg.

Shin moves and the eggexplodes in his hands.

Takami winces. “We’llget there.”

*

“I can’t watch,”Sakuraba says, burying his face in his hands.

“We’re makingprogress!” Takami says. “This is clearly the next step.”

“I am not sure this isa good idea,” Shin says.

“We practiced on thestuffed animal, remember? This isn’t any different,” Takami says.

Shin does not lookconvinced. (Nor should he. They went through ten stuffed animals before hecould hold one without destroying it).

“Except this rabbit isactually alive,” Sakuraba says. “And could actually die.” Shin winces, andSakuraba does feel bad, but someone needs to speak up for that rabbit.

“Shin, I have completefaith in you,” Takami says.

Shin does not lookconvinced, but he reaches down for the rabbit.

“No, stop! I changedmy mind!” Wakana cries, and snatches her rabbit out of what was most likelyimpending doom. “I can’t let this happen!” She runs out of the room with herbunny. Sakuraba can’t help but breathe a huge sigh of relief.

“All thingsconsidered, animal testing was most likely cruel,” Takami says.

“Right,” Sakurabasays.

“A human subject wouldbe better anyhow,” Takami says.

“Right,” Sakurabasays. And then suddenly very much does not like how they both look at him.

*

“Please stop,”Sakuraba whimpers. He has been “hugged” (ie, tackled) by Shin about five timesnow and he’s pretty sure he needs to go to the hospital again.

“This is not working,”Shin says, sounding more glum than Sakuraba has ever heard him before.

“It’s a work inprogress,” Takami says. “Just be patient.” He looks down at the broken form ofSakuraba and adds, “We’re going to need more volunteers.”

“You ever heard of a thing called the hug and fly?”

Peter froze, barely resisting the urge to turn away from the current situation as he heard the voice of the Iron Man modulators ringing through the street.

Well. That certainly was a relief. Peter had been slightly concerned about the circle of enhanced and furious soldiers who were currently all pointing their scary weapons directly at his face. He grinned at the looks which spread through the Circle of Villainy once Tony had let his presence be known- most of them similar to ones of terror and/or resignation.

(He kinda wished they’d give him those looks. All he got was mild annoyance and rolling eyes.)

“I can guess,yeah ” Peter replied, and everyone turned to him again- apparently all getting the same idea at the same moment, which, unfortunately, appeared to involve trying to shoot him in the fucking head-

Thankfully, no heads were removed in the making of this superhero- because suddenly Peter felt the air whip around him as Tony landed on the concrete in front of him, arms immediately coming up to clutch around Peter’s waist. There were maybe 0.1 seconds in which Peter had to prepare himself, before suddenly he was being launched into the sky at a speed which sent his stomach plummeting into his shoes.

He yelled out in surprise and panic, arms immediately coming up and clutching at the shoulder plates. There was a cracking noise, and he heard Tony sigh through the voice mod. “Can you go a single week without causing trouble, Parker? Maybe? Just for me?”

“Hey, hey, you were the one who asked me to hold them in the first place,” Peter grumbled, as Tony flew them into an arc, directing them back down to earth.

“I asked you to web them up, spiderboy, not start an argument with them over the goddamn ethics of their drug-testing process,” Tony said wearily.

“But I just wanted to know why-”

“They wave alien-enhanced weaponry about and sell Heroin, Peter, do you think they give a fuck if they kill some pigs in the process?” Tony slowed their descent and righted them both, hovering for a second before finally cutting the engines and landing them on the roof of some building down the street, “anyway, it’s sorted now. SHIELD have them surrounded. If you want, you can spend your free time harassing them some more back at HQ.”

Peter hopped off Tony’s feet, smiling and yanking off his mask. Tony did the same- relatively speaking, anyway- pulling back his helmet so that he could give Peter a better view of his unimpressed face.

“Thanks for the hug thing,” Peter said cheerily, waving as he began to turn away.

“That- that wasn’t a hug, it was a - it was a tactical manoeuvre,” Tony spluttered, and Peter just grinned, turning back to him for a moment in order to raise his eyebrows.

“It felt like a hug to me,” he said with a smug little shrug of his shoulders, watching gleefully as Tony scoffed, stepping fully out of his suit as he folded his arms.

“Uh, I think I would know if I was giving you a hug.”

“I think I would know if I was being hugged.”

“You obviously don’t, you’re a kid. Kids don’t know anything.”

“Did you not know anything when you were my age?”

Tony scoffed again. “You think I was ever a kid? I came out like this, Parker.”

“You’re so weird,” Peter pulled a face, “and wrong. Because that was totally a hug. You literally called it ‘the hug and fly’.”

Tony groaned in annoyance, throwing his hands up into the sky. “You’re so annoying. You wanna know what a hug looks like? Really? Come here then, spiderass, I’ll show you a fucking hug.”

Peter just laughed as Tony stormed forward and embraced him in what had to be the angriest hug ever. The look on his face was priceless, but his hands were surprisingly soft as he pulled Peter in by the shoulders and let his cheek rest against the top of Peter’s head.

They stood like that for a few seconds; Peter unable to help himself from leaning forward and hugging back, his hands coming to rest against Tony’s back before whispering “how difficult are you finding it to stand that high on your tiptoes in order to look taller than me?”

Tony turned immediately on his heel and walked away. “I fucking hate you.”

“No, you don’t!” 

“Yes I do!”

Peter couldn’t stop laughing as Tony just kept walking until he got back to the suit, not turning around even once as he stepped into his suit. “Tony, you’ve gone in facing the wrong way,” he called out helpfully.

“Don’t care! Not looking at you! You’re a fucking demon!”

“BUT TONY I LOV-”

A/N: Based on my headcanons that Mario and Luigi were abused by their father. For @a-slightcatchoflightning.

TW: Abuse mention.

Mario was bored.

He and his brother just saved the Princess from the Queen Shroob after a time travel test gone wrong. The Queen Shroob had kidnapped the adult princess while she was in the past and forced Mario and Luigi to travel back in time to save her, only to be saved by their two younger selves, who joined them on their journey.

Now they sat in the Princesses throne room, both the adults and babies, waiting for E-Gadd to fix a few loose ends in his busted time machine to send the babies home.

“Professor E-Gadd?” Mario spoke up, tearing himself away from the view of baby Mario and baby Luigi climbing over his younger twin. “If we lived in the real-a world before, then-a why are our younger selves dressed like us?”

Lost Star Child AU

Summary: Part one. Mario would do anything for his brother, despite what Luigi believes, and that includes risking his life to save him.

TW: Injury, battle, near death(?)

“What would you do for your brother?” Giant Kamek cackled, holding Luigi in his fisted hand. Luigi struggled to escape his grasp. “How far would you go?”

Anything. Everything. Anywhere. Everywhere.

The answer was obvious to Mario. He didn’t even need to think about it. He’d do absolutely anything for Luigi, and he’d go absolutely anywhere for him. He’d travel the real world on foot if it meant it would keep his brother safe. He’d serve Bowser as a minion. He’d risk his life for his brother.

And technically, he already had, when they both jumped off the bridge that fateful night in Brooklyn, and he would do so again in a heartbeat.

doesn’t know the official names for dogbreeds but has their own names for them (etc. grumpy dog, big snowfluff, golden boy, spot™)

collects patches for their signature piece of clothing

refuses to run

mainly draws one collection of things (etc. mushrooms, gadgets, backs, dinosaurs, statues, sea creatures, clothing, trees, goats…)

horrible at spelling

gullible as heck

always has small wounds on their hands

flinches at loud sounds

knows way to much about how to get away with murder

always has to make a cool entrance

gets nauseous a lot but never pukes

stress sweats a lot

asks inappropriate questions without realizing they’re inappropriate

not good at showing sympathy or comforting people (still can be a good person!! just not their area okay)

writes notes and to-do’s on their hands and arms

collects blackmail and secrets about everyone

has a really loud laugh (bonus: and gets self-conscious about it)

has an obsession with words

has a very strange google history

cuts their own hair

uses a lot of 1920′s slang (bee’s knees, heebie-jeebies, cat’s pajamas…)

doesn’t understand how to use chopsticks

super innocent when it comes to sexual stuff and is very easily traumatized

makes jokes out of every situation

needs a few minutes every morning to calm down after their bad dreams

the ultimate loyal friend™

wants to be a detective

should not, under any circumstances, be trusted behind the wheel

irresponsible when it comes to their body and injuries (”eh, it’ll heal on it’s own” “at least put a bANDAID ON IT!”)

cheats at every possible game

has to take very long bus-rides to their work/school

Gets so occupied with examining their surroundings that they often walk into things

has a super good sense of smell

likes to put their feet up on things

wears glasses that make their eyes look smaller/larger

has a dad™ look

only owns 1 pair of shoes

has a habit of doodling on every surface they can find

always the first one to wake up

Talks a lot, even when nobody’s listening

Somehow gets away with the weirdest crap

makes up words and just expects others to understand what the hell they’re talking about

gets easily out of touch with reality

addicted to stationary

can draw a perfect circle (that’s a flippin’ superpower)

looks like a certain cartoon character and hates when people point it out

overuses the word ‘hate’

Absent-minded - Preoccupied to the extent of being unaware of one’s immediate surroundings. Abstracted, daydreaming, inattentive, oblivious, forgetful.

Abusive - Characterized by improper infliction of physical or psychological maltreatment towards another.

Addict - One who is addicted to a compulsive activity. Examples: gambling, drugs, sex.

Aimless - Devoid of direction or purpose.

Alcoholic - A person who drinks alcoholic substances habitually and to excess.

Anxious - Full of mental distress or uneasiness because of fear of danger or misfortune; greatly worried; solicitous.

Arrogant - Having or displaying a sense of overbearing self-worth or self-importance. Inclined to social exclusiveness and who rebuff the advances of people considered inferior. Snobbish.

Audacious - Recklessly bold in defiance of convention, propriety, law, or the like; insolent; braze, disobedient.

Bad Habit - A revolting personal habit. Examples: picks nose, spits tobacco, drools, bad body odour.

Bigmouth - A loud-mouthed or gossipy person.

Bigot - One who is strongly partial to one’s own group, religion, race, or politics and is intolerant of those who differ.

Blunt - Characterized by directness in manner or speech; without subtlety or evasion. Frank, callous, insensitive, brusque.

Bold - In a bad sense, too forward; taking undue liberties; over assuming or confident; lacking proper modesty or restraint; rude; impudent. Abrupt, brazen, cheeky, brassy, audacious.

Callous - They are hardened to emotions, rarely showing any form of it in expression. Unfeeling. Cold.

Childish - Marked by or indicating a lack of maturity; puerile.

Complex - An exaggerated or obsessive concern or fear. (List specific complex.)

Cruel - Mean to anyone or anything, without care or regard to consequences and feelings.

Cursed - A person who has befallen a prayer for evil or misfortune, placed under a spell, or borne into an evil circumstance, and suffers for it. Damned.

Dependent - Unable to exist, sustain oneself, or act appropriately or normally without the assistance or direction of another.

Deranged - Mentally decayed. Insane. Crazy. Mad. Psychotic.

Dishonest – Given to or using fraud, cheating; deceitful, deceptive, crooked, underhanded.

Disloyal - Lacking loyalty. Unfaithful, perfidious, traitorous, treasonable

Disorder - An ailment that affects the function of mind or body. (List the disorders name if they have one.) See the Mental Disorder List.

Disturbed - Showing some or a few signs or symptoms of mental or emotional illness. Confused, disordered, neurotic, troubled.

Dubious - Fraught with uncertainty or doubt. Undecided, doubtful, unsure.

Dyslexic - Affected by dyslexia, a learning disorder marked by impairment of the ability to recognize and comprehend written words.

Egotistical - Characteristic of those having an inflated idea of their own importance. Boastful, pompous.

Envious - Showing extreme cupidity; painfully desirous of another’s advantages; covetous, jealous.

Erratic - Deviating from the customary course in conduct or opinion; eccentric: erratic behaviour. Eccentric, bizarre, outlandish, strange.

Fanatical - Fanatic outlook or behaviour especially as exhibited by excessive enthusiasm, unreasoning zeal, or wild and extravagant notions on some subject.

Fickle – Erratic, changeable, unstable - especially with regard to affections or attachments; capricious.

Fierce - Marked by extreme intensity of emotions or convictions; inclined to react violently; fervid.

Finicky - Excessively particular or fastidious; difficult to please; fussy. Too much concerned with detail. Meticulous, fastidious, choosy, critical, picky, prissy, pernickety.

Fixated - In psychoanalytic theory, a strong attachment to a person or thing, especially such an attachment formed in childhood or infancy and manifested in immature or neurotic behaviour that persists throughout life. Fetish, quirk, obsession, infatuation.

Flirt -To make playfully romantic or sexual overtures; behaviour intended to arouse sexual interest. Minx. Tease.

Gluttonous - Given to excess in consumption of especially food or drink. Voracious, ravenous, wolfish, piggish, insatiable.

Gruff - Brusque or stern in manner or appearance. Crusty, rough, surly.

Gullible - Will believe any information given, regardless of how valid or truthful it is, easily deceived or duped.

Hard - A person who is difficult to deal with, manage, control, overcome, or understand. Hard emotions, hard hearted.

Hedonistic - Pursuit of or devotion to pleasure, especially to the pleasures of the senses.

Hoity-toity- Given to flights of fancy; capricious; frivolous. Prone to giddy behaviour, flighty.

Humourless - The inability to find humour in things, and most certainly in themselves.

Hypocritical - One who is always contradicting their own beliefs, actions or sayings. A person who professes beliefs and opinions for others that he does not hold. Being a hypocrite.

Idealist - One whose conduct is influenced by ideals that often conflict with practical considerations. One who is unrealistic and impractical, guided more by ideals than by practical considerations.

Idiotic - Marked by a lack of intelligence or care; foolish or careless.

Ignorant - Lacking knowledge or information as to a particular subject or fact. Showing or arising from a lack of education or knowledge.

Illiterate - Unable to read and write.

Immature - Emotionally undeveloped; juvenile; childish.

Impatient - Unable to wait patiently or tolerate delay; restless. Unable to endure irritation or opposition; intolerant.

Impious - Lacking piety and reverence for a god/gods and their followers.

Impish - Naughtily or annoyingly playful.

Incompetent - Unable to execute tasks, no matter how the size or difficulty.

Indecisive - Characterized by lack of decision and firmness, especially under pressure.

Indifferent - The trait of lacking enthusiasm for or interest in things generally, remaining calm and seeming not to care; a casual lack of concern. Having or showing little or no interest in anything; languid; spiritless.

Infamy - Having an extremely bad reputation, public reproach, or strong condemnation as the result of a shameful, criminal, or outrageous act that affects how others view them.

Intolerant - Unwilling to tolerate difference of opinion and narrow-minded about cherished opinions.

Judgemental - Inclined to make and form judgements, especially moral or personal ones, based on one’s own opinions or impressions towards others/practices/groups/religions based on appearance, reputation, occupation, etc.

Klutz - Clumsy. Blunderer.

Lazy - Resistant to work or exertion; disposed to idleness.

Lewd - Inclined to, characterized by, or inciting to lust or lechery; lascivious. Obscene or indecent, as language or songs; salacious.

Liar - Compulsively and purposefully tells false truths more often than not. A person who has lied or who lies repeatedly.

Lustful - Driven by lust; preoccupied with or exhibiting lustful desires.

Masochist - The deriving of sexual gratification, or the tendency to derive sexual gratification, from being physically or emotionally abused. A willingness or tendency to subject oneself to unpleasant or trying experiences.

Meddlesome - Intrusive in a meddling or offensive manner, given to meddling; interfering.

Meek - Evidencing little spirit or courage; overly submissive or compliant; humble in spirit or manner; suggesting retiring mildness or even cowed submissiveness.

Megalomaniac - A psycho pathological condition characterized by delusional fantasies of wealth, power, or omnipotence.

Naïve - Lacking worldly experience and understanding, simple and guileless; showing or characterized by a lack of sophistication and critical judgement.

Nervous - Easily agitated or distressed; high-strung or jumpy.

Non-violent - Abstaining from the use of violence.

Nosey - Given to prying into the affairs of others; snoopy. Offensively curious or inquisitive.

Obsessive - An unhealthy and compulsive preoccupation with something or someone.

Oppressor - A person of authority who subjects others to undue pressures, to keep down by severe and unjust use of force or authority.

Overambitious - Having a strong excessive desire for success or achievement.

Overconfident - Excessively confident; presumptuous.

Overemotional - Excessively or abnormally emotional. Sensitive about themselves and others, more so than the average person.

Overprotective - To protect too much; coddle.

Overzealous - Marked by excessive enthusiasm for and intense devotion to a cause or idea.

Pacifist - Opposition to war or violence as a means of resolving disputes. (Can double as a merit in certain cases)

Paranoid - Exhibiting or characterized by extreme and irrational fear or distrust of others.

Peevish - Expressing fretfulness and discontent, or unjustifiable dissatisfaction. Cantankerous, cross, ill-tempered, testy, captious, discontented, crotchety, cranky, ornery.

Perfectionist - A propensity for being displeased with anything that is not perfect or does not meet extremely high standards.

Pessimist - A tendency to stress the negative or unfavourable or to take the gloomiest possible view.

Pest - One that pesters or annoys, with or without realizing it. Nuisance. Annoying. Nag.

Phobic – They have a severe form of fear when it comes to this one thing. Examples: Dark, Spiders, Cats

Practical - Level-headed, efficient, and unspeculative. No-nonsense.

Predictable - Easily seen through and assessable, where almost anyone can predict reactions and actions of said person by having met or known them even for a short time.

Proud - Filled with or showing excessive self-esteem and will often shirk help from others for the sake of pride.

Rebellious - Defying or resisting some established authority, government, or tradition; insubordinate; inclined to rebel.

Reckless - Heedless. Headstrong. Foolhardy. Unthinking boldness, wild carelessness and disregard for consequences.

Remorseless - Without remorse; merciless; pitiless; relentless.

Rigorous - Rigidly accurate; allowing no deviation from a standard; demanding strict attention to rules and procedures.

Sadist - The deriving of sexual gratification or the tendency to derive sexual gratification from inflicting pain or emotional abuse on others. Deriving of pleasure, or the tendency to derive pleasure, from cruelty.

Sadomasochist - Both sadist and masochist combined.

Sarcastic - A subtle form of mockery in which an intended meaning is conveyed obliquely.

Sceptic - One who instinctively or habitually doubts, questions, or disagrees with assertions or generally accepted conclusions.

Seducer - To lead others astray, as from duty, rectitude, or the like; corrupt. To attempt to lead or draw someone away, as from principles, faith, or allegiance.

Selfish - Concerned chiefly or only with oneself.

Self-Martyr - One who purposely makes a great show of suffering in order to arouse sympathy from others, as a form of manipulation, and always for a selfish cause or reason.

Self-righteous - Piously sure of one’s own righteousness; moralistic. Exhibiting pious self-assurance. Holier-than-thou, sanctimonious.

Senile - Showing a decline or deterioration of physical strength or mental functioning, esp. short-term memory and alertness, as a result of old age or disease.

Shallow - Lacking depth of intellect or knowledge; concerned only with what is obvious.

Smart Ass - Thinks they know it all, and in some ways they may, but they can be greatly annoying and difficult to deal with at times, especially in arguments.

Soft-hearted - Having softness or tenderness of heart that can lead them into trouble; susceptible of pity or other kindly affection. They cannot resist helping someone they see in trouble, suffering or in need, and often don’t think of the repercussions or situation before doing so.

Solemn - Deeply earnest, serious, and sober.

Spineless - Lacking courage. Cowardly, wimp, lily-livered, gutless.

Spiteful - Showing malicious ill will and a desire to hurt; motivated by spite; vindictive person who will look for occasions for resentment. Vengeful.

Spoiled - Treated with excessive indulgence and pampering from earliest childhood, and has no notion of hard work, self-care or money management; coddled, pampered. Having the character or disposition harmed by pampering or over-solicitous attention.

Squeamish - Excessively fastidious and easily disgusted.

Stubborn - Unreasonably, often perversely unyielding; bull-headed. Firmly resolved or determined; resolute.

Superstitious - An irrational belief arising from ignorance or fear from an irrational belief that an object, action, or circumstance not logically related to a course of events influences its outcome.

Tactless - Lacking or showing a lack of what is fitting and considerate in dealing with others.

Temperamental - Moody, irritable, or sensitive. Excitable, volatile, emotional.

Theatrical - Having a flair for over dramatizing situations, doing things in a ‘big way’ and love to be ‘centre stage’.

Timid -Tends to be shy and/or quiet, shrinking away from offering opinions or from strangers and newcomers, fearing confrontations and violence.

Tongue-tied - Speechless or confused in expression, as from shyness, embarrassment, or astonishment.

Troublemaker - Someone who deliberately stirs up trouble, intentionally or unintentionally.

Unlucky - Marked by or causing misfortune; ill-fated. Destined for misfortune; doomed.

Unpredictable - Difficult to foretell or foresee, their actions are so chaotic it’s impossible to know what they are going to do next.

Untrustworthy - Not worthy of trust or belief. Backstabber.

Vain - Holding or characterized by an unduly high opinion of their physical appearance. Lovers of themselves. Conceited, egotistic, narcissistic.

Weak-willed - Lacking willpower, strength of will to carry out one’s decisions, wishes, or plans. Easily swayed.

Withdrawn - Not friendly or Sociable. Aloof.

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2v8hy4r

by stuckybarnes

Wade cocks his head, takes careful steps closer. He lets the fast food bag drop to the ground. “Uh. What the fuck did you get yourself into?” He asks then, raising his hands tentatively to peer at the web.

“I got stuck.” Peter says dejectedly, head down.

“No shit, Sugar.” Wade says loudly, punctuated by a confused laugh. “How - what - what kinda bondage -”

(Prompt fill)

Words: 1840, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), Spider-Man (Comicverse), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Deadpool - All Media Types, Deadpool (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Peter Parker, Wade Wilson, Deadpool, Spider-Man

Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Peter Parker & Wade Wilson

Additional Tags: Prompt Fill, Prompt Fic, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Inappropriate Humor, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Angst, Action, Canon-Typical Violence, Secret Identity, Hurt Peter, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Wade, Wade Saves Peter, Responsible Wade, Pansexual Wade Wilson, The Author Regrets Nothing, Author loves to chat in the Comments

“Hey, Peter,” 

He froze, eyes widening as he heard the all-too-familiar sound of expensive leather brogues scuffing along the floor a few meters from him, and he turned quickly, brow furrowed into a deep V as he watched Tony wander up to him, all smiles and casual posture, hands buried in the pockets of his grease-stained jeans. He looked like he’d come straight from the workshop, stopping only to throw on a leather jacket along the way.

Why he was here at all, however, made no sense at all.

“T- Mr Stark,” Peter said, trying to communicate with him through eyebrow movements alone. If it turned out that he had to suit up and help out somewhere, he was pretty fucked, considering the fact he’d had a bit to drink at the party he’d been invited to.

Well. He said ‘a bit’. It was possibly more accurate to say ‘a fucking shit-ton’, but whatever.

Tony looked at him blankly, before shooting another smile toward the circle of people who were stood around Peter and staring quite blatantly at the both of them. “Hello, ladies and gentlemen, I’m afraid I have to take Mr Parker away. He’s an intern at Stark Industries, you know how it is. Lots of work, yadda yadda, okay bye,”

And before Peter could even open his mouth, Tony had grabbed him by the arm and snatched the solo cup out of his hand almost angrily, pulling him away from the group of people and through the crowds of rowdy teenagers that littered the huge house.

“Uh, Mr Stark, wha’dd’ya want me for, exactly?” Peter asked, speaking loudly above the blaring music and wincing at how slurred his voice came out.

It had been a weird month, okay. He was just trying it out. 

Tony paused, and Peter saw him purse his lips even tighter before beginning to walk again, guiding Peter through the crowds and holding him tight as he stumbled a little.

“Hey, Parker, leaving so soon?” Flash called out from somewhere to his left, and Peter stopped turning to face him as the other boy wandered toward them. “We haven’t even begun yet, Jesus, are you a pussy or what-”

“Kid,” and suddenly Tony had let go, spinning around and walking up to Flash, who seemed to suddenly recognise who exactly Tony was, because his eyes went hilariously wide and he stumbled backward a few steps. Peter snorted involuntarily, and he saw Tony turn briefly, before shaking his head and looking back to Flash, “it seems like you’re having an absolute ball here, but I’m gonna say something and I’m only going to say it once.”

Tony looked down at Flash, eyes harsh as he drew a little closer. “Leave. Peter. Out of it. Do you understand? He is not here for you to manipulate, not here for you to bully into trying out crazy shit for your amusement-”

“Tony, what the fuck,” Peter blurted, frowning and stepping forward, more than a little put out. He’d only just managed to get accepted by Flash and all the other popular kids, and Tony was just going in, ruining it all, “you’re not my dad- don’t tell me or my friends what I can and can’t do.”

Tony turned, eyebrows raised. “Friends?” He snorted, shaking his head and walking over to Peter once more, taking him by the arm. “You haven’t called in with Aunt May for two days now,” he hissed into Peter’s ear, “she’s worried sick. You are coming with me, right now.”

“No ‘m not,” Peter pushed his hand off, looking over at Tony in anger. “You are fucking….embarrassing me…. in fron’ of my friends-”

“They are not your friends!” Tony snarled, pulling his arm again, “your friends are all currently at home, worrying their asses off because this is not like you, Peter, and they didn’t know what to fucking do, so they ended up calling me. Now you will fucking follow me out of this goddamn place right now, or I am hauling you out.”

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Okay. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

He could do this. He could do this. It was all going to be fine. He could do this. 

Fuck. How the hell was anyone supposed to do this?

He checked his watch for the fifteenth time that minute. Tony was currently 12 seconds late. But he was always late, so this was fine. It didn’t mean anything. He was just caught up again. Which was normal. 

Unless he’s found out and now hates me and is going to take the suit away and yell at me and never speak to me ever ever again-

“God, Peter, pull yourself together,” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair and then clasping it into a fist in his lap. It was all going to be okay. It was. He just needed to keep breathing.

Fuck. Why was he even here? Why had he called Tony in the first place? Take an hour of your day please, Mr Stark, I need to tell you something that I’ve only just found out myself and is probably something you don’t care about at all anyway-

This was stupid. He should have just waited until it could come up in casual conversation, not….whatever this was. Pulling Tony out of his busy day in order to tell him this stupid thing was…well, it was stupid! 

God, his hands were shaking.

What if Tony reacted badly? What if he got angry? What if…

what if he never wanted anything to do with Peter again?

It happened. He knew it happened. He’d heard all the horror stories. Kids, kicked out of homes by parents who had loved them unconditionally before. Put on the streets because they loved the wrong people.

Not that Tony would ever do that. Peter was scared, but he wasn’t stupid. For starters, Peter didn’t even live with Tony anyway. Well. He hung out with Tony in his workshop after school more often than not, and occasionally slept there if Aunt May was doing the nightshift, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t deal without it. He’d been fine before Tony came along.

But that wouldn’t even happen. He was making this out to be bigger than it was. Tony was cool. Tony would be fine. And even if he didn’t like it, he knew that New York still needed Peter on side, so he probably wouldn’t take the suit back, or kick him out. 

Probably.

Suddenly, there was a four-beat knock on the door, and Peter practically flew off the couch in his living room from the surprise.

Okay. Okay. Showtime. 

It was going to be fine.

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Peter gasped as the air was forcibly knocked from his lungs by an overly large fist, hitting him in the sternum and sending him flying across the street.

He tumbled, hitting concrete and rolling a few times before running out of momentum. Getting straight back up to his feet, he looked over apprehensively at his attackers from over the road. “That’s not how we greet people on Earth!” He called out grumpily.

There were at least twenty of them; all probably nearly double Peter’s size, and sporting muscles similar to those of Greek Gods. They were clearly alien- that much was obvious from the massive portal hanging over them all- but seemed…defeatable. He’d already stuck four of them to the wall.

But more kept coming from the hole in the sky, and for every one of them Peter took out, another just took it’s place.

“Tony?” He called out a little breathlessly through the comm.

“Coming as fast as I can, Spidey, just hold tight and try keep out of tr-”

Peter lost connection for a brief second as one of the aliens smashed their staff against the ground and sent huge chunks or rubble flying in Peter’s direction. He yelled, flipping backward and latching on to a nearby wall a second before the space he’d just inhabited was ripped apart by fragments of gravel and concrete.

“-Kid! Spidey! Peter, come the fuck in, are you-”

“I’m fine,” Peter assured, running along the wall and trying to spot an opening. “They have…staff thingies, that seem to be releasing some sort of powerful sonic wave- it’s shattering concrete, so it’s gotta be intense. I could use one of them,” Peter muttered absently, aiming a web at the next creature he saw and then yanking harshly, knocking their aim off-balance before they could fire their weapon at a young man taking cover behind a car.

“Just stick to holding perimeter and getting out civilians, Spidey,” Tony ordered, and Peter heard the brief mutter of FRIDAY saying “if we go any faster, boss, we risk damaging the flight stabilisers.”

“I’m holding it, it’s fine, Tony, there’s no point damaging your suit-”

“Focus on the battle, kid,” Tony ordered loudly, and Peter huffed in frustration, but leaped back down to the ground, somersaulting over a deadly whatever-beam and grabbing the man he’d seen earlier by the collar. “Time to go, Mr Sir,” he said cheerily, before pulling him up over his shoulder and beginning to sprint over to a nearby alley. 

Once they rounded the corner, Peter dropped him. “Run,” was all he said, and the man obeyed; turning tail and scrambling through the thin alley toward safety.

Peter threw a web over to the building on the opposing side and then yanked taught, just in time for two of the weird rock-alien things to tumble over the thin line. Wasting no time on words this time, he simply stuck them to the floor and then leaped away before he was assaulted by more gunfire. 

He heard Tony swearing through the comm. “I’m ten minutes out, kid, but I called backup, okay? You’re gonna be fine.”

Peter frowned. “Who’d you call?”

“Doesn’t matter. You’ll know when you see them. For now, stay on the comm and stay out of the trouble, you understand?”

Peter grimaced, nodding his head before realising Tony couldn’t see that, and so said “yep,” sharply, ducking under another huge chunk of rubble.

God, these things were big.

A few of them began clattering off down the abandoned segment of Park Avenue, and Peter cursed, swinging off his web and hauling himself over to them, landing a few yards ahead. “Hey, fellas, has anyone ever told you violence doesn’t solve everyth-”

The creatures all roared collectively, loud enough that Peter winced in pain. Obviously they weren’t in the mood for talking. If they even could.

Peter glanced over his shoulder, looking at the group of people that were huddled, terrified, in the cafe a few buildings down from them. The aliens were looking too. 

That wasn’t a good sign.

“SitRep, Peter,” Tony ground out down the line, hearing Peter’s muttered curse.

Peter didn’t have time to reply; at that moment three of the ten aliens lifted their staffs, getting into a formation and then looking forward, before banging down with force.

Peter felt the world crumble underneath him, lifted off the ground as concrete shattered underfoot and flew around him, sharp edges slicing across his body, barely kept from cutting through the material of his suit entirely.

His first thought was: cafe.

That was the target. And it was a target that was about to be directly hit in less than three seconds, unless Peter did something.

Righting himself as he flew through the air, he laid eyes on the large piece of debris directly ahead; hurtling through the street and heading toward the window of the building. If it hit, everyone in there would be crushed. Instantly.

His arm flew out and he bit back a cry of pain as it was met with razor-fine rubble, but he didn’t relent. Letting his web fly, he flew through the air as if in slow motion, praying and praying and praying that it would reach its mark in time-

There was a familiar tug of tension as the webbing connected, but Peter had no time for relief. Using everything he had in him, he wrenched it toward him.

The sudden yank as the block of concrete was pulled to a complete standstill was powerful. Too powerful. 

He felt his arm wrench out of its socket, and this time he wasn’t strong enough to hold back the scream of agony.

But he couldn’t stop. The momentum had begun, now, and all Peter could do was twist it, roll it, manoeuvre it until it was arcing back around again, a perfect semi-circle that led right back to those aliens. They could only watch as suddenly 10 tonnes of rock and concrete was thrown in their faces.

Peter was still flying through the air, in between dust and sand and rubble, and his arm felt like it was on fire. He could hear, in the back of his mind, Tony. He was yelling something through the comm, but it didn’t register. All he could think of was the fast-impending wall that his body was about to fall into.

And, as predicted, second later it did.

This time, Peter didn’t cry out. Unconsciousness was immediate.

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(Okay I told myself I was gonna take a break from writing today but u know what. U deserve Good Tony and Peter Writing so,,,,I’m gonna do my best with that. Hope u feel better soon my friend, and I hope this helps in some way x)

His hands were shaking against the prompt cards he held in an iron-clad grip.

It was stupid, really. Ridiculous. He’d battled monsters and stopped bombs and yet here he was, getting worked up over a damn science presentation.

And there wasn’t even any reason why. He was good at science. Brilliant, if he did say so himself. And the whole school was full of science nerds like him, so it wasn’t as if he was going to get laughed off stage, either.

So why the damn hell did he feel so…awful?

Pull yourself together, Spiderman, he told himself, shaking his head a little and peaking out from behind the wings to watch the speech that was currently being given by another of his classmates. It was a mandatory thing in order for everyone to get a grade. Each of them had to present an idea or a theory to the rest of their year and put points that were for and against it. At the end, other kids asked questions, drilled you, probably started giggling and whispering if you couldn’t answer one of their godawful comments-

Ugh. He felt vaguely sick.

He’d been on edge the whole day just thinking about it. There were, what, a hundred faces, maybe more, in the audience? Including Flash, who was sat at the back, just waiting for Peter to slip up so he could laugh loudly or boo or something.

He could barely even think straight. His mind was all fuzzy and his palms were too sweaty. It felt like his lungs weren’t working properly anymore.

This sucked.

“Hey kid,”

Peter jerked wildly as someone stepped up to his shoulder. God, he’d been so out of it he hadn’t even heard them, what the hell was wrong with him-

“I- uh, hi Mr-” he turned, looking over and expecting to see a teacher. 

“Tony?” he said incredulously, as his brain registered the tinted yellow glasses and carefully sculpted van dyke.

“The one and only,” Tony replied absently, as he peered out through the wings and looked at the boy onstage, “you next?” He asked.

“I…what-you-how?” Peter spluttered, “what are you doing here?”

Tony looked at him, before shrugging. If Peter wasn’t mistaken, he almost looked sheepish. “You mentioned this thing, uh, a few days ago in the labs? I didn’t have anything on, so I though I’d come, show a bit of moral support, you know the drill,” he muttered. “How you feeling? You ready? Nervous?”

Peter opened his mouth, but the assurance failed to come out. He was a notoriously bad liar, after all. Plus, his vocal cords didn’t really seem to be working very well right now. Which, considering what he was about to go up and do, was Very Very Bad.

Tony looked him up and down, noting the quivering hands, slightly green face and general expression of terror before sighing and pulling the sunglasses off his nose in order to place them on the bridge of Peter’s. “Okay, Peter, today you are not Peter. Today, you are me, and I am about to give a heart-raising, mind-blowing, showstopping speech on…” he peered down, reading the top of Peter’s card, “effective and innovative designs to contribute toward a greener society,” 

Peter just nodded, looking up at Tony through the yellow lenses.

“First thing,” Tony began, raising a hand and wandering backward, before gesturing around the place, “you gotta own the room, kid. Movement is important. Hands, feet, eyes- don’t just stand there like a lemon and read off the prompts. You wanna get a good grade? You engage the audience,” he stepped forward, pointing at Peter’s eye, and then his own, “eye contact. Always do the eye contact. Kinda terrifying, admittedly, but you only need to do it for a second. You’re not gonna stare em down like they’re trying to rob a bank here, okay, you’re just catching their eye. Showing them you’re focused, like you’re talking to them specifically. Keep moving around, look at everyone.”

He stopped. Grabbed Peter’s shoulder. “So, Mr Stark, how do you begin your speech?”

Peter stopped, caught off guard like a rabbit in the headlights. “Uhhhhh-”

“Okay, well for starters, I definitely don’t do that,” Tony shook his head, pushing the glasses a little further up Peter’s nose as they began to slip down. “You wanna begin with something simple. Casual. This isn’t a funeral service. You’re just putting an idea across. ‘hello everybody’ will suffice. I’d say open with a joke, but I don’t think you’re ready for that yet.”

Peter had to agree on that one. He took another look over to the side, and noticed the boy was beginning to wrap up. 

Oh, hell. He was next.

Tony noticed, too, and he let his other hand rest on Peter’s shoulder as well, so that he was gripping Peter between both hands. “Listen, kid. Stick to the basics. Eye contact. Movement. Keep it light, and don’t focus too hard on individuals. It’ll only freak you out. You’re gonna do great, kid. Honestly, you’re definitely the smartest one out there, you got nothing to worry about.”

“People are gonna laugh,” Peter muttered, looking down at his feet. God, Flash- Flash was gonna be a total ass, he could predict it perfectly. Peter would pause, just for a moment, and Flash would do something stupid like laugh or make a stupid noise and then it would throw Peter off-

“No-one’s gonna laugh, Kid,” Tony said, before his eyes narrowed. “Unless there’s someone who’s planning on ruining it for you. Is there?”

“I dunno, Flash said some stuff earlier, but… I dunno,” Peter mumbled, biting his lip. He wished he’d been ill today. Or HYDRA had decided to attack a Macy’s or something. At least that would have been a genuine excuse.

“Flash, huh?” Tony mused quietly, peering out into the audience, “greasy looking pussy at the back, right?”

Peter laughed nervously, nodding. “Uh, yeah, that’s the one.”

Tony pulled a face, and then nodded to himself. “Okay. Okay, cool. Well listen, I’ll make sure Flash isn’t a problem, alright? Don’t worry about him.”

A sudden wave of applause filled the auditorium, and signalled Peter’s turn up. 

“Big breath. Come on, you’ll kick ass. You’re Spiderman. Or you can be me, just for a few minutes, if that’ll make it easier,” Tony assured him, patting his cheek  and smiling.

“-And now, it is my great pleasure to present to you, Peter Parker!” The Principal announced, and another round of applause burst out.

Okay. Showtime.

“Wait, kid, sunglasses!” Tony caught him before he could move, sliding them back off his face with a grin, “they’re a tad too big for you. Don’t want them sliding off whilst you’re deep in the middle of solving the world’s energy crisis.”

Peter huffed out a nervous laugh, and then did as Tony said, taking a long, deep breath before turning away and walking slowly toward the main stage.

He could do this. Tony did it all the time. He could be Tony, just for five and a half minutes, right? Tony had said he could.

His hands were still shaking a little as he stepped in front of everyone, but he felt a little braver. A little prouder. Maybe even confident.

At the back of the hall, he watched Tony slip in through the doors, more inconspicuous than Peter had ever seen him as he wandered toward the back row and grabbed a chair, leaning over the back of it and whispering something into-

Peter sighed, unable to hold back the little grin of satisfaction as Flash’s head turned to look up at him, eyes widening in a hilarious fashion as he realised, yet again, he was being told off by Tony Stark.

It was even more amusing to watch the colour drain from his face as Tony continued to whisper in his ear. He watched as Flash nodded a little jerkily, and then Tony smiled, before stepping back and leaning against the back wall, right in the middle where Peter could see him.

He grinned up when Peter made eye contact, and Peter smiled back.

He could do this.

“You did it!” 

Peter turned, smile on his face as he watched Tony jog up toward him, hands raised in a thumbs-up as he grinned over. Luckily, the presentation had been at the last period, and so Peter was free to get the fuck out and finally relax for the first time that day.

“Yeah- I think it went…well,” Peter admitted happily.

 Tony pulled a face, letting his arm fall across Peter’s shoulders and squeeze. “Uhm, you did more than ‘well’, kid- you totally blew everyone else out of the water.”

“You didn’t even see everyone else, Tony.”

He felt the shrugging gesture Tony made beside him. “I’m gonna go ahead and assume here, kid. You were great. Very Tony Stark-ish. Except with less narcissism and more genuine-ness, y’know? Never would’ve guessed you were nervous.”

Peter grimaced. “I thought I was gonna throw up the entire time.”

“Well then, you are a remarkable actor, Mr Parker,” Tony told him, “hey, how about doing my speech for me this weekend at the charity gala I am being forcibly blackmailed into attending? I have a busy schedule of sleeping and eating and I don’t want it disturbed.”

Peter laughed, giving Tony a shove, “thanks, but if it’s all the same with you, I’m never going to give a speech ever again. That was crazy. Everyone stares at you. What the hell?”

“Yeah, when you’re the only person talking in a huge auditorium, people tend to do that,” Tony huffed, shaking his head, “so damn rude of them.”

“It really is,” Peter agreed, hiking his bag up a little further on to his shoulder before turning to tony, a grin beginning to form on his face. “Hey- what did you tell Flash, by the way?”

Tony tapped his nose secretively. “None of your business.”

“Aw, come on, I see him most, it’s more my business than yours.”

“Hey, maybe I just like him. Maybe I was having a catch up, Peter, huh? You’re not special, I might be secretly mentoring him, too.”

Peter rolled his eyes, shoving Tony playfully and then grabbing his arm before he went careering to the floor. “Whoops- superstrength.”

“That was a threat, wasn’t it? I feel threatened. Again. Physical threats, this time, too- it’s getting worse-”

“Tony,” Peter whined frustratedly, “please tell me.”

Tony stopped, hand half-way to reaching his car door before turning to look back at Peter. “I told him if he made a single sound, I’d hack the school system and turn all his A* into C’s,” he admitted, before adding “is that bad? I don’t know- I tend to threaten both adults and kids alike, what can I say, I’m all about equality,” 

Peter watched, smile on his face as Tony jumped into his car and pulled his shades back on. “You did good, kid. I’ll see you ‘round,” he said, shooting Peter another thumbs up before revving the engine and pulling out of the car park.

Peter watched, shaking his head fondly. He felt kinda exhausted- the day had been stressful as fuck, and it had taken it out of him. But hey- at least it was over. And at least it hadn’t turned into a full-blown panic attack, either. That would’ve just been embarrassing.

“Thanks, Tony,” Peter muttered, waving cheerily over at a still rather horrified looking Flash from across the road before beginning to make his way down the drive.

“Wait. You got a lift?”

Peter turned, watching as Tony reversed back to him and raised an eyebrow at him curiously from the open window.

“Sorry, I don’t get in cars with strangers,” Peter deadpanned, beginning to walk forward again, hiding a fond grin as Tony just rolled forward and followed him.

“Uhh,” Tony made a face, turning around and shuffling in his car for a second before pulling out something. It was a bag of kisses, a few of them already eaten, with the wrappers thrown back in the bag. “I got candy?”

Peter broke his deadpan stare a second later, in order to laugh. Tony was a fucking idiot, honestly. “Right, okay, I’ve been convinced,” he declared, before sliding over the bonnet and opening the door on the other side.

As soon as he’d fallen in, Tony flicked him on the ear. “Ow!” He yelped, looking betrayed.

“Don’t slide your dirty school jeans over my car, you heathen,” Tony scolded, before turning back to the road and stepping on accelerate. “And don’t touch my radio. We’re listening to my music, not yours.”

Peter groaned, “ugh, but your music taste is-”

“Unless you want to get forcibly removed from this vehicle, I suggest you quit running your mouth, boy,” 

Peter looked over to him. There was silence for a stretch, before Peter muttered, “Metallica sucks.”

“RIGHT,” Tony pulled his sunglasses off, chucking them at Peter’s chest and then moving his hand to the dash where all his modified features sat, “that’s it, you’re getting ejected, buh-bye demon child-”

I feel like this would end up happening. Enjoy!

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

Delirious walked down the hallway carefully, making sure he wasn’t spotted. “Where is that damn break room,” he mumbled to himself.

‘It’s on the right.’

“No, the right’s the bathroom. Remember what Ohm said?”

‘Maybe if you had brought Ohm this wouldn’t be a problem.’

“I may talk to him, but I sure as hell won’t be letting him out.”

‘Why not?’

“Cause. He’s gonna interrupt my search for Evan.”

‘How?’

“Just shut it, will ya?”

The voice stopped, but the other voices kept talking, telling him where to go. Eventually, he found it, and there Evan was, getting a snack out of the vending machine. Delirious grinned when he saw that Evan was alone.

He silently walked in, shutting the door quietly behind him and locking it. He snuck up behind Evan and engulfed him into a hug. “Surprise! Guess who got out to visit you?”

Evan froze in his spot. Delirious giggled and turned Evan around. Evan had a look of surprise and fear written on his face. Delirious just laughed and gave him a big kiss on the lips. “I’ve missed you so much,” he cooed with a grin. Evan got out of his grasp and ran for the door, gasping in surprise when it didn’t open. “What, did you not want to see me? How rude,” Delirious said in a sad tone.

“How- how did you-”

“One of your interns is surprisingly easy to manipulate. You should probably fire her,” he giggled.

'Quick, now’s your chance!’

“Chance? Chance for what?” He asked, looking else where in the room.

'You can kill him! Go for it! He’s defenseless!’

Delirious frowned. “Kill him? Why would I kill him? I like him, I’m not gonna kill him.”

Evan stared at Delirious as if he was even more insane than usual.

'What do you mean 'you like him’? Just do it!’

“I’m not gonna do it.”

'But-’

“I said, I’M NOT GONNA DO IT.”

The voice became quiet. So did the others. Delirious looked back at Evan, who had backed himself into the wall. He grinned, and moved towards Evan. “So, where were we?”

Evan didn’t reply; he only stared at Delirious. Delirious looked around the room, finding the drawers with colors onto it. Delirious smiled and moved towards it.

The drawer was filled with different paints; it was for the patients who were calm enough to handle it. Delirious’ smile widened as he grabbed some of the colors. “Hey, Evan! Mind helping me with some of the colors?”

Evan still didn’t respond, as he was too busy trying to open the door. Somehow it was stuck closed.

Delirious laughed and pulled Evan back to the table, sitting him down in one of the chairs. He pulled the chair with Evan close to one of the mirrors there and held him with one hand while the other put the paint on his face.

Soon he was done, and looked at Evan with a grin on his now painted clown face. “So, whadya think?” He asked. Evan stayed silent. Delirious just giggled in response and grabbed Evan’s face with his hand. “Now, it’s time to make you pretty too. Well, prettier, I should say.” Evan’s eyes widened as he tried to move away. “Ah, ah, ah! We’re not done here yet,” he laughed.

The door handle started to jiggle, but Delirious ignored it. He started with the eyes and did the cheeks. “Now, for the final touch!” He laughed. He grabbed Evan’s face and gave him a kiss on the lips. Evan tried backing away, but he was trapped against the chair.

When Delirious pulled back, red paint covered Evan’s lips. Delirious laughed and showed Evan. Evan’s eyes widened and he went to go rub the paint off. Delirious grabbed his hands and stuck them to his sides. “No, you’re gonna be pretty. And you better be pretty when you come to visit me,” he murmured.

The door finally busted open, and two security guards came in. Delirious started to laugh and laugh and laugh. He laughed so much that he fell onto the floor clutching his stomach.