#Brogan is mine

[trixter-god]

Classical Conditioning

Paring: Bruce Wayne x Logan Howllet

Summery: Logan and Bruce play a game of cat and mouse or is Bat and Wolverine?

Warning/tags: smut, 18+, one shot, mlm, gay, old man yaoi, cursing/profanity, jealousy, crack ship, self indulgent, oral (male receiving), I gave Bruce normal friends

Chapters: 1/1 (completed)

Words: 4572

An: Merry Christmas and happy holidays you filthy animals. Everyone thank MCR for keeping me up long to finish this lmao.

How did he even end up in this situation? That question had become a staple in Logan's everyday life as of late. It certainly didn’t help that he somehow found a home in the worst city on the east coast. Gotham city for all its mysteries and ever rising crime rates was at its core just some shitty new jersey city. Yet only this one kept Logan coming back like he was out of cigar’s needing a nicotine fix. He’d normally blame his old age for making him circle back to old haunts wondering if anything he remembered stayed the same but he’d also be stupid to admit he was sticking around for merely nostalgic reasons. He could still hear Scott’s laugh ringing in his ears thinking about the call he made what felt like forever ago telling Scott he was staying in this hellhole for a bit longer than originally planned only to find increasingly dumber excuses to not head back upstate. No he was here because he somehow found someone who understood him before they even said two words to each other. Someone that he could relate to without having to hide the darker parts of himself. A fact that still made Logan uncomfortable if he thought too hard about it but luckily his thoughts don’t normally linger. Plus he hasn’t made a run for it yet so he assumed this was going well. Logan would never say it out loud because it would make him sound like one of Rouge’s shitty romance novels but he was stuck in Gotham because of a man. A paranoid, stubborn, hypocritical, annoyingly charming, and very pretty man.

Which is why Logan was now sitting at the bar of some overpacked, overpriced club he swore he wasn’t gonna be at. With a dark whisky in one hand and his other digging into the meat of his thigh so as not to leave dents in the dark wood in front of him. The deep crease in his brow and the almost permanent frown on his lips gave out the obvious signs he didn’t want to be here. Though that didn’t stop the occasional drunk girl who was dared by her equally drunk friends to talk to him. Thankfully they were easily shooed away with a raised eyebrow or a firm no to their advances. Not like he wouldn’t be interested if it was any other night he just had a very specific itch he needed to scratch that only could only be done by the only other person in this room who probably had every exit mapped out in his head just in case. He was just about to ask for a new drink when that fucking addictive smell hits him again. Leather, citrus, pine, something else that Logan didn’t know but made the crease in his brow deepen. Sharp brown eyes cut through the crowd of drunks to the vip lounge where sat the reason why Logan was sitting in a hard ass barstool in increasingly uncomfortable jeans.

Bruce Wayne.

Orphan, playboy, millionaire, pain in his ass, and dressed like the fucking Holster store mannequin he was. Sleeves rolled to the elbow accentuating his arms in that dark blue practically see through button down which was unbutton to an outrageous degree. Bruce’s synthetic second skin worked overtime to cover up the miles of scarred and torn flesh that only Logan had memorized like the back of his own hands. Giving anyone with a pair of eyes the view of his tone physique. All tucked into those fucking pants.

Where the fuck did those even come from? Logan wasn’t one for keeping close attention to someone’s fashion choices but he would have definitely remembered tearing those in two. black slacks made from some expensive fabric just tight enough to accentuate what Bruce woke up at unholy hours of the morning to train for. If the place wasn't packed in like sardines Logan would have dragged Gotham’s sworn protector by his perfectly disheveled hair back home to that obnoxiously big bed of his. Finally get to sink his canines into that teasing smell that has been following him the whole night. Just a hint of that disgusting concoction of scents it was over. Logan was hot wired to it like the good hunting dog he was and he wasn’t leaving without his prey. Yet why did it feel like he was the one being hunted?

Bruce was barely listening to whatever the story was being told to the table. He’s been barely participating since that pissed off Canadian took a seat at the bar. Giving a nod or a laugh when it was appropriate but studying the way Logan’s shoulders would tighten when the air vent perfectly positioned above his head would turn on in ten minute cycles knowing with that enhanced sense of smell that Lo possesses could pick him out even in a room full of sweat and alcohol. Bruce normally hated the feeling of being quietly tracked but it was different when he was asking for it. That rush of adrenaline he’d been normally numb too thanks to his nightly escapades now crawled over his skin. The bat did have a reputation of killing the mood. He just wasn't aware how much it had bleed into his personal life. That was probably why Bruce has gotten increasingly attracted to danger over the years and what's more dangerous than willingly being stalked by an apex predator.

It was a simple case of classical conditioning, something that Bruce found increasingly more entertaining even if it was an accident. Who would have known Logan's mutant genes made him more susceptible to being easily persuaded by just a bit of cologne. Now Bruce knows he isn’t absolutely innocent that his instinctually inclined friend seemed to want to jump his bones the moment he got even a single inkling that Bruce was gonna touch that bottle that sat in the back of his bathroom cabinet let alone wear it out anywhere. Sure it was “brucie’s” signature scent and maybe it's the only strong cologne he wears in general but he did have no intention of turning Logan into a Pavlo’s dog experiment. Happy accidents and all that.

A hard glare was shot his way after only five minutes of Logan pretending he wasn’t sitting roughly 13.65 feet away. Not that Bruce cared all that much, Logan can stew at the bar for as long as he wants. He doesn't assume that that will be much longer, coinciding Logan's right hand having been firmly drugged into the thigh of his well-worn jeans for an hour now. Not to mention that prominent vein just peeking out of the collar of his flannel. Wonder how long it would take before Bruce finally got to see it pop.

Now Bruce did ask if he wanted to come out with him tonight. Maybe finally meet the few people he considers his normal friends but no. Logan said he was quite content staying home watching tv and loosely keeping an eye on the kids while Batman was off duty for the evening. Which Bruce was fine with even if he did intentionally rummage in the “what happens in boring school stays in boarding school” section of his closet. Squeezing his now built frame into pants that used to be baggy on him. Getting an ego boost that he could in fact still fit in them yet increasingly more humbled as he struggled to button them for longer than he’d say aloud.

Bruce’s calculated thoughts were broken up by a soft hand against his chest bringing him back to the party he was supposed to be participating in. The semimonthly gathering of his old college friends. Michael, Ben, both his college roommate at Gotham Academy for the five months of pre-med he took before realizing there was no fun in being his father. Michael’s wife Michelle who hasn’t looked up from her phone since they arrived, and Nicole, an old fling of his, highly intelligent woman, sat pressed against his side batting her heavy lidded eyes at him innocently as if her stiletto nails hadn't been not so subtly tracing any portion of his exposed skin all night. He gave a smile that wasn’t meant for her catching the sudden hard scrape of a bar stool from the other side of the room.

Logan can’t tell what’s pissing him off more, the shitty DJ that doesn’t believe in too much base, the cheap ass whiskey he was forcing down that was more bite than burn or the way those famous steel blue eyes catch his glare just long enough to tell him what he already knows. He’s being played like a goddamn fiddle. Actually it was probably that pretty little blonde who’d been hanging off HIS billion dollar baby the whole night. Sitting so close she was practically in Bruce’s lap.

The blonde makes a bold move which makes the glass in Logan’s hand threaten to crack under his grip. Her hand slipped down the front of that deep navy button up, ghosting over the very open front of Bruce’s shirt to get a feel of what Logan’s knows first hand is well trained muscle. Logan bites back the growl that wanted to crawl out of his throat when Bruce— no not Bruce. Brucie cracked a shit eating grin at the bold blonde. Well truly it was a gentle charming smile but Logan knew fucking better.

He should’ve been embarrassed of how fast he succumbed, It was probably a new record honestly, if his brain wasn’t busy imagining the way he wanted to become front page news for Vale’s gossip blog. He could see the headlines now. “Bruce Wayne bent over in front of the crowd” maybe she’d make some shitty pun that he’d have no choice but send it to Wade, that's if that loud mouth wouldn’t already be blowing up his phone with those fucking emoticons that somehow mean something suggestive. Why did he even mention that walking ball of cocaine and cancer? He’s not even here and yet the mere thought killed his very small buzz. Logan rubbing his face before downing the rest of his whisky hoping it would keep him satisfied for now. He had a point to prove. A point he didn’t know but peeled himself out of his favorite recliner to follow Gotham’s Prince downtown to some shit club anyway. Logan gave his head a shake before getting back up, keeping his back to temptation to go sneak a smoke outside.

Bruce gave a pout watching Logan head out the front and not towards him. Looks like Wolverine is finally getting used to his tricks. Bruce noted that for next time already thinking of the needed adjustments.

“What’s wrong Bruce? Is Michael boring you as bad as he is me?” Ben’s voice cut through his thoughts making his pout turn into an awkward smile. Bruce couldn’t even think of an excuse before Michael’s heavy old Gotham accent butted in.

“Oh piss off benny boy, everyone loves my stories.”

“They love your stories all right. Everyone at this table knows that after you took that fist to the face Kevin had to pull you out.” Ben crossed his arms leaning back into his chair. His signature smirk landed on his lips.

“Tomatoes, tomatoes. So I took the first hit. It doesn't matter who actually finished the guy off, we all won.” Micheal tried to wave Ben’s comments off.

“If I remember correctly we all got detention for a month.” Bruce finally found his footing picking up his barely touched glass of champagne. Giving the glass a small swirl in his fingers just keeping busy. “Not to mention you got a concussion.”

“Yeah, but we won. Which reminds me of another story.” Micheal retells some story about his football years. Snapping at the young waitress who was checking another table. Earning him a solid hit in the shoulder by his wife, Michelle, making Ben let out a snort.

“Eyes in the back of her head.” came a much softer voice to his left. Nicole made her quiet presence known with a hand on this thigh looking out in the direction Logan disappeared from. She rested her chin in her hand giving him a knowing glance.

“Who’s the cowboy?” She asked, amused.

Bruce gives her his best shifty eyed confused expression as he made sure no one else was listening. Luckily Ben was too focused on correcting everything that’s coming out of Micheal’s mouth and Michael is just trying to yell over him that they don’t notice. Michell never looked up from her phone.

“What?” Bruce breathed out pretending to be flustered in confusion.

She only narrows her eyes looking him up and down. The woman used to be an analyst; she could smell tension before she knew there was tension. Dangerous skill to have so close to you, one he had even closer at one point in the past. He Should have known better than to date a physiatrist but you live and you learn.

Nichole drums her well kept nails on the top of the table. “Oh please, you’ve been pining all night.” She lowered her voice taking a long sip of her martini.

“He’s a good catch, how’d you get him?”

Bruce chuckled, his eyes couldn’t help but drift over to Logan’s now empty seat at the bar. How did he do it? Bruce remembers how it started, a rather intense argument over something he couldn’t remember that turned into an event that The Hall of Justice had seen before. Yes, those tapes were deleted and yes, it did end up happening again. Far too many times until it evolved into whatever it was now. Too serious to be a fling yet they were far too old to be boyfriends. Maybe partners was the correct word even if it made Bruce feel very old. He didn’t like to linger on a title and Logan ever cared to name it.

“Just picked him up one day, haven’t let him go yet.” He shrugged at the blonde. “I have a problem with picking up strays.” That earned him a small chuckle even though he was serious.

“I understand that.” Nicole tipped her glass to him and he in turn did the same. The soft clink seemed to echo between them.

・・・・・

The night air in Gotham was always cold. Something Logan found oddly comforting about the city. The end of his cigar bloomed in the darkness of the alley as the music from the club thumped quietly through the wall behind his head. He rolled his shoulders back hearing a rare pop from his spine. The tension in his neck released, making a string of repetitive words tumble out of his mouth on instinct. “I'm too old for this.”

He debates with himself again, that urge to leave, another to just throw his patience out the window. Logan watched the smoke disappear from his lips into the dark night around him as the sound of rusty hinges echoed in alleyways. His nose twitched. Leather, citrus, and pine. A dangerous combination and yet he didn’t make a single effort to leave. The sound of expertly polished shoes echoed in the small alley until that smell turned into heat by his side. Logan picked up his head to look over at his… at Bruce. Bruce didn’t return the gesture instead staring off at the door he just snuck out from. How he managed to get away from a crowd without worry was something only he could pull off. The tension was softer than it was inside.

“Does this mean i win?” His voice was rougher than intended as he talked around the cigar on his lips. Logan mentally thanked the cold for that as he took one last puff before snuffing out his cigar against that palm of his hand. That burn was welcomed as the action made the heat beside him scoff. “Got something to say princess or you just gonna play mute?’

Bruce hummed softly in response. If Logan didn’t have such good hearing he would have missed that almost mocking sound. “Thought you didn’t want to come out tonight.” Bruce’s words teased him just an octave higher than normal. That pretty boy persona got harder and harder to slip from when he was being smug. Logan could knock his perfect teeth out right now and not feel bad.

“Changed my mind.” Logan shrugged, pocketing his cigar in for later. “Not that i had much choice” he gave the taller man a well deserved once over. The glow of the moon above mixed with the club’s neon casted the dark knight in a familiar way. It was honestly unfair that one man could look good no matter if he was pretending to be an urban legend or slumping with the first class. Now closer Logan could see that Bruce decided to wear his earrings for the first time in who knows how long. Little black studs glistened in the low light. And was he wearing eyeliner? It was smudged to an unrecognizable degree but it was there. Detailed oriented his bat was, which only solidified that he was set up from the start. Logan ran his tongue against the inside of his cheek as a poor attempted to silence himself but since when has that ever worked. Logan unconsciously leaned closer, his senses burned. “Can't have you walking around like a cheap whore, bub”

The smallest of smirks formed across Bruce’s lips as his eyes dropped to watch that vein in Logan's neck finally pop. Letting out a rare chuckle as he pulled his gaze away shaking his head. “Please, I'm anything but cheap Lo.”

His nickname felt like velvet in winter as it rattled around in the night. It was the same unoriginal name he’s had for years but it alway sounded different from him. It sounded right. If he wasn’t already so stupidly obsessed with that man next to him. Bruce would have caught him off guard just enough to shut him up.

“So you’re a rich whore?” Logan didn’t miss a beat with his comeback as they somehow got even closer.

“Why? Want one?” Bruce countered with a skilled practice. It was instinctual, the joking comment slipped from his lips like a bullet in the chamber even as the shot rang out it left a heavy weight behind.

There was a stand still then, as they stared silently at each other. The sting was pulled so thin between them it didn’t take much for the snap. This time it was Bruce’s callused hands making their way into Logan's hair pulling him into a heated kiss which pulled a deep growl from the other as thick fingers dug into the artificially perfect skin he forced himself to wear in public. Teeth clacked against each other as animal instincts kicked in. Logan took advantage of his strength and pressed that intoxicating smell into the cement wall. Not caring as the noticeable smack of what had to be Bruce’s skull hit the brick. Logan’s knee slotted between Bruce's legs pressing into his harding cock. The whine that slipped his lips was like a well deceived award for having to put up with his well planned torment all night. Reasoning thrown out the window as their bodies gilded messily across each other like horny teenagers practically devouring the other until those dangerous hands tighten in Logan’s hair pulling another growl.

“Fuck, Lo.” Bruce broke the kiss, sucking in the cool night air into his lungs felt like fire. His hips not stopping in their attempts to basically hump Logan’s thigh. His already uncomfortable attire rubbed just right against his cock. Logan wasted no time to dig his canines into his throat. Biting just hard enough to leave an imprint yet he didn’t break skin. Not now anyways.

“What, bub? Ain't this what you wanted?” Logan dragged his teeth over his neck, marking over that pale expanse of his throat. “Huh? Wearing that fucking collone like you don’t know what it dose it me.” His voice was nothing but rasp. Teetering just close enough into Logan's feral territory that Bruce couldn’t help the groan that slipped his lips. “Dressing like fucking sex on legs. Do i even want to know when you got these fucking pants?” To further push his point home Logan hands cupped a fair amount of his ass through the tight fabric. Bruce bucked his hips in retaliation. The friction makes both of them hiss.

“Fucking brat.” Logan spat, grabbing a fist full of Bruce's thin shirt to force him down to his knees. The playboy silently cures his choice in fashion when he feels just how tight his pants pressed back into him. Bruce swears he can hear the stitching against his thighs screaming for help not to mention the actual crack his knees make. He cursed under his breath as hands found Logan’s waist for stability.

His eye flicked from the bulge he was now eye level with to Logan's blown wide pupils. Bruce's hands popped off that obnoxious belt buckle Logan loved to wear with a practice ease acting like he wasn’t the one on his knees. His lips dragged over dented denim making Logan choked out a curse from above. Bruce continued to mouthed Logan through his pants until he felt a hand grab a fist full of his hair tugging a pained moan out of him. Bruce popped off the button of Logan's jeans, unzipping them and pulling him free from his flannel boxers.

Logan’s cock stood proudly now free from its confines. Its reddened head weeped pre-cum from the slit. Bruce smirked, wanting to say something snarky only to look up to meet pleading brown eyes. Okay so maybe he was being too much of an ass all night. Though this was hardly the worst he could have done, still Bruce took the hint and took pity on him. His hand slowly wrapped around the thick base of Logan's cock giving him a couple good strokes. Nuzzling into his hip as he used the leverage to keep Logan from bucking into his hand as he stroked him dry. Not breaking eye contact as Logan's eyes rolled back into his head briefly just from such a touch. The friction makes Logan's head spin just enough to not to complain.

“My poor darling.” Bruce cooed as he pressed a few kisses at the base. Bruce shifted on his knee to straddle Logan's boot so that he could please his own needs.grounding his hips down against worn leather as he nipped at that prominent vein down Logan’s hip, up the underside of his cock.

“Shut up” Logan spat out when Bruce”s tongue flicked the head of his cock before trailing back down the underside only for his hand to replace his mouth again. His hand retreated from Bruce’s hair as his claws fought to make an early appearance.

“Make me” echoed in Logan's ears as his eyes opened in surprise. He stared down at the smuggest person he’ed ever seen on their knees. Logan tried to memorize this exact moment in his very shitty memory. Bruce Wayne on his knees in an open alley, looking at him like a kid during christmas while he stroked his dick actively taunting him. No. Asking him to let go. If Logan believed in a god he'd probably be thanking him right about now.

As Logan's brian took its time to process his request Bruce took no time to wrap his lips around his throbbing cock not stopping into his nose brushed against that tufted of hair against the base. Everything about Logan was thick. His skin, his skull, his fingers but most importantly his dick as it took up most of his mouth. Bruce used his breathing skills to good use not to gag when Logan seemed to finally get the idea bucking into his throat suddenly. Logan’s hand curled back into Bruce’s hair pulling him somehow farther down his cock so he could fuck into the wet heat of his mouth.

“So good baby.” Logan muttered his praises through his teeth.

“Good fucking boy.”

Bruce’s hands dropped to finally free himself from his own pants. Moaning around Logan as he stroked himself to the same hard rhythm that was set in his throat. It didn’t take long for either of them to get close to the breaking point.

“You gonna take it baby? Huh? Be my good fucking boy and take everything i give you?” Bruce was too far lost as he moaned out his agreement. Trying to nod around Logan's brutal trust of his hips into his mouth. “Here it comes baby, here it comes.”

An inhuman noise escapes his lips as Logan’s hips halt suddenly making sure to pull Bruce all the way down around him as he releases down his throat. Bruce followed close behind, spilling out of his fist onto the ground and Logan's boot below. The two of them just stay there for a moment before Bruce finally frees himself with a cough. His lungs felt like they were on fire as he breathed in lungs full of cold air.

“Shit, you okay?” Logan tucked himself back into his pants before kneeling down to Bruce's level.

Bruce nodded between coughs waving it off. “I’m fine. Just forgot to breathe for a second.”

Logan shook his head gently pushing Bruce's now actually messy hair from his face. His eyes now soft and concerned as he gave Bruce a good once over just in case knowing Bruce isn’t one to complain about pain.

“Come here.” Logan muttered pulling Bruce gently into a soft kiss which was pleasantly returned without hesitation. The taste of himself on Bruce's lips didn’t go unmissed.

“You are the worst”

“You love me for it.” Bruce chuckled cupping his jaw, running his thumb across his cheek before pressing another quick kiss to his lips.

“Yeah, I do.” Logan got back to his feet giving Bruce a hand up as they both fixed themselves to be less disheveled. Logan takes another shameless look over Bruce hooking his fingers into one of his belt loops pulling him closer. His voice dropped an octave giving him a weak glare.

“Seriously though, were these fucking pants come from.”

“My first year of college. ” Bruce gave him a little pose looking down at his somehow still intact pants. “I didn’t make it through pre-med but I did party like I was. Honesty impressed they still fit.”

Logan hummed letting him go. “oh, they fit alright.”

Bruce gave him a slap to his arm which Logan overreacted to making Bruce crack a smile. Logan threw an arm over Bruce’s shoulder pulling him down to his height. “Wanna drink? I still have a tab open.”

“You just want me to cover the bill.” Bruce rolled his eyes leaving his grasp to pull open the metal door letting out the loud music spill out into the quiet night for the two of them.

“Promise to repay you when we get home.” Logan smirked, slapping Bruce on the ass as he headed back into the noisy club. Bruce, not too far behind, shakes his head amused as they find two empty seats at the bar.

“Yeah, yeah.”

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Al-righty.” Shiro hums merrily to himself as he puts the car in park and holds the keys out to Keith. “Here we go.”

Keith stares at them. Shiro’s hand remains where it is, keys dangling from the key ring around his finger. His expectant look leaves Keith at a total loss.

“Did you drive me out here to murder me?” Keith asks eventually, finally breaking the building silence. He looks pointedly out the windshield, where all that is visible for miles and miles is the desert.

Shiro snorts. “Yep. You ate the last ramen pack one too many times. Time to meet your end.” He reaches over with his other hand and grabs one of Keith’s, gently prying his fist open and placing the keys into them. “No, I’m not here to murder you, doofus. That would be a horrible idea. I don’t have an alibi.”

Keith refuses to laugh at that. It’s not funny and also Keith has been warned about letting Shiro think he’s funny. It can only lead to more dad jokes, or worse. “These are your car keys,” he says, gingerly holding the objects in question.

“Yes,” Shiro says.

“Context clues imply that you are asking me to drive your car.”

“Mhm.”

“I am thirteen years of age.”

“Yep.”

“We met, famously, because I stole your car. This very car, in fact. And crashed it.”

“Correct.”

Keith blinks slowly at him. His amused expression does not shift. Keith’s not sure how else to spell things out for him, so he just shrugs. He’s not about to say no to getting a chance to drive. How many other thirteen year olds can say that a legal, licensed adult took them out to drive?

“Okay.”

He steps out of the car, Shiro quickly vacating his own seat as well. He stands outside the driver’s side as Keith settles back in behind the wheel, leaning his torso through the open window.

“Okay,” he starts, voice taking on the same instructional quality he uses to lecture. “First step: seatbelt. You know this.”

Keith dutifully buckles himself in.

“Excellent. Now you can adjust your seat — levers on the underside there, yeah. You want to be able to easily touch the pedals, but when you fully straighten your arms, they should only go to the steering wheel. You’re a little too close.” He reaches down and guides Keith’s hand along the lever, helping him push the seat back slightly. “There, perfect. See you you can reach everything, but you have lots of space to move? That’s perfect. Fix your posture, though.”

“Does that help with visibility?” Keith questions, figuring a straight back will make it easier to see over the wheel.

“Nah, I just don’t like it when you slouch. Moving on.”

Shiro quickly runs through the rest of the set up with him — adjusting his mirrors, making sure he knows where all levers and signals are, testing the brake lights. Once he’s satisfied that Keith has a general idea where everything is, he jogs over to the passenger seat and climbs in.

“Okee dokee,” he says as he flicks through radio stations so fast you can barely even hear the first couple notes. He pauses after a moment, eyes flicking to Keith, then clicks back a couple stations, finally settling on a country station playing an old Johnny Cash song. “Start the engine.”

Keith does. The old car sputters for a second, then roars to life.

“Good! Drive!”

Keith looks at him in alarm. “What? Just — go?”

Shiro grins, wide and cheeky. “Go!”

Keith doesn’t need anymore encouragement. He steps on the gas, and the car careens forward at top speeds, shooting a cloud of red dust behind them. Shiro whoops, turning the song up louder.

The wind blows loud and fast through the open windows, competing with the blasting music and whipping Keith’s hair all around his face. He gets sand in his eyes more times than he can count, but he doesn’t dare take his hands off the wheel, just blinks it away as fast as he can. He watches the speedometer climb past forty, fifty, sixty, and his belly swoops every time they ricochet up a hole and go careening back down. Every so often Shiro calls out instructions — “Look at your mirrors and your blind spot before you make turns! Foot off the gas for the first half of the turn, then accelerate through the end of it! Don’t cross your arms over the wheel! Listen to the car so you know when to shift gears!” — sometimes a little too late. Keith stalls the car more than once. He also, at one point, swerves to avoid a cactus that seems to appear out of nowhere.

But Shiro never asks him to stop. Never has him pull over, never screams at him for messing up, never chides him about his speed (which, he might add, is entirely reasonable). He only grips the ceiling handle and cheers Keith on, whooping every time they hit a bump. He only calls out words of encouragement, smiling big and proud, cheering Keith on til he’s smiling just as wide.

For the first time since he lost his Pa, Keith feels like someone wants to see him happy.

[alluraaaa]

decided to expand on the tags of my other post and talk about how shiro should have gotten a healing arc instead of the clone plot. here’s how i would’ve done it (under the cut because it got Long):

at the end of season two shiro uses his and zarkon's mutual connection to the black lion to kick absolute ass. however, shiro ends up stuck in the astral plane

he doesn’t know that though. he’s just in a starlit void with no prosthetic arm and is like “0_0 where am i”

“fancy types call it the astral plane,” a guy says. shiro turns to look at this guy and it really is just some guy. like he's just in jeans and shit, looks like he's about to go grab coffee before running errands

and shiro's like “????? what??? where’s zarkon?”

the guy explains that the astral plane is the halfway point between life and death. it’s where spirits go to move on before fully embracing the afterlife. zarkon is fully dead, thanks to shiro. and shiro himself is here because he has a chance to take a second and relax before making a decision. he can either come back to the land of the living, or he can fully move on and join the afterlife

as shiro's processing this the guy is like “y’know kid, you're young, you gotta lotta life ahead of you. your team and your family would love to see you again. but after what you've been through, i don't blame you for wanting to call it quits early. i mean, you did it, you beat the bad guy, and the others are able to keep going without you, you pushed ‘em in the right direction. you can... hit the hay, as it were. but don't let me tell you what to do. it's your choice, son.”

shiro's like “that's a big decision. i can't just… pick one so easily.” because yeah, he loves being a paladin and of course wants to see his loved ones again, but god. he's so tired. knowing that the team will be able to continue without him fills him with relief and the sudden desire to rest

the guy says, “i get it. we can wait, you can think. we don't gotta talk.” so they both sit there and think, watching the stars of the astral plane twinkle around them.

shiro takes a moment, then asks, “are you dead?” the guy says, “yeah. died a few years back.” he doesn’t elaborate and shiro doesn’t press. instead he asks, “did you have a choice?”

guy says, “nah. you’re lucky as hell. wish i coulda stayed. but… i know that everything is working out without me, y’know?”

shiro’s like “i get it. i really wanna go back but… i also wanna take a break. i mean, we all die, right? everyone i wanna see… we’ll all end up dead together in the end, right?”

guy: “yeah. and when you’re on the other side, you can watch over ‘em.”

shiro: “am i selfish for wanting that? i mean, i can still help, i can save the universe, but part of me just wants to roll over and die.”

the guy chuckles. “boy, you’re not selfish for wanting a break. you’ve been fighting like hell for years, even before the space nonsense. it’s okay to want somethin’ that’s just for you. and if you help you, you’re still helping the universe, y’know? we’re all in this together.”

shiro doesn’t say anything, and the two of them fall into silence again

for the first time in years, there’s no rush. when he was a student, he was working hard towards good grades and graduation. when he was at the garrison, he was working hard towards teaching and reaching the stars. in space, he was working hard to just survive. and then with voltron, he had the entire universe on his shoulders. he was the leader, he had to be ready for anything.

but here, he wasn’t ready for here. and it’s turning out… okay? he has time to make a decision, and he isn’t being rushed, there doesn’t seem to be a deadline.

he wishes so bad that he had this more often when he was alive: time to breathe

but he’s still alive, isn’t he? he’s half alive, able to go back out there. if he can get through this war, he can be alive with his friends, his family, and they can all breathe together.

“i want to live,” he says.

the guy smiles, and stands. “i figured you would. you don’t seem like the type to sit and watch. here.” and he reaches out a hand to help shiro stand.

shiro takes it, and rises to his feet. “i, uh, never got your name.”

“ryou kogane,” the guy says, and shiro now knows why he felt so familiar. “i’ve been watching you since you met my boy, and i’m so happy he’s had someone like you there for him when i couldn’t be. thank you.”

and shiro’s about to burst into tears, so he pulls ryou into a hug. ryou hugs back, laughing.

“tell him i love him. and that he’s doing great, because he is. i couldn’t be more proud of that kid. he’s just like his momma.”

“i will. and thank you, for everything.”

“of course, son. now go, you got a life to live. i’ll see you when you’re done.”

and so shiro goes. when he comes back to the land of the living, he’s in the black lion. it’s because of her that he was able to come back, she was his tether to life. and he learns this in the calm purring in his mind.

he puts his hand on the dashboard and whispers, “thank you. it’s good to be back.”

meanwhile, in the castle, allura feels something’s off. she’s been trying to get closer to the black lion as it’s replacement paladin, and it would normally excite her to feel something shift in their bond from all the way in the dining hall, so far from the hangers. it would, but she’s more worried about what’s happening. when she suddenly stands up and starts to leave for the hangers, the others follow her

in the hanger, they all stand in front of the black lion, watching allura. something in her doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want to interrupt.

it clicks when the black lion bows and lowers its jaw, opening the ramp for shiro to come down the plank.

he looks different. his arm is gone, his hair is all white, and he’s calm.

keith reacts first, sprinting at his brother with a shout of his name, diving into a tight bear hug.

the others follow not far behind. it’s a happy, tearful reunion at the feet of the black lion.

shiro has moments alone with all of them after that, telling them how proud he is of them for keeping up the fight without him. of how they’ve all grown into better fighters and, more importantly: better people.

but keith is the only one who learns about what shiro did in the astral plane, and who he was with. shiro relays everything his dad said, and hugs keith when he breaks into tears

in the future, he and allura lead voltron side by side. they take turns as the black paladin, giving each other well needed breaks from the fight because neither of them would step down completely

when it’s shiro’s turn to fight, he wonders how. he doesn’t have his prosthetic, so no weapon. (“so… you’re unarmed?” lance asks.)

the answer comes when allura gives him the black bayard. he activates it, and it replaces his old prosthetic. proof of his connection to his lion. he beams.

and farther in the future, when they’re all safe at home on earth, shiro gets his wish: he’s with his loved ones, happily married to adam and surrounded by the kids more or less adopted as his own years ago. they’re all safe, all here, and they’re all breathing

[the-feral-gremlin]

If he falls asleep on your shoulder, you mean a lot to him.

Shiro’s advice for interacting with Keith™️

Please for all that is holy DON’T SNEAK UP ON HIM! He will stab, punch, bite, or otherwise attack you on instinct. It’s best to announce your presence from at least five feet away

He doesn’t understand meme culture, you will only confuse him.

He likes conspiracy theories, try bringing those up in conversation

Keith isn’t always super verbal, “mhm” usually means yes, “mmnn” means no

Don’t ask about his past, he might bite you

Please don’t antagonize him (looking at you Lance) he will take the bait, and you will end up injured. Just please don’t

Yes he always has multiple knives on his person at any given time, just accept it

Yes his taste buds are broken, but he’s picky about texture

Feel free to add on

[baby-yongbok]

A Scream to the Gods

Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Non idol, Medieval

✨Masterlist✨

Warnings: Cheating, Swearing, Death, Description of blood, Major character death (reader), (Sorry if I missed any tags)

Notes: Hyunjin's POV + I enjoyed writing this but I'm anxious to share it. It's pretty angsty but I enjoy writing in this style. I hope that you enjoy the story!

Word Count: 2538

Summary: Despite you doing your best to make your realm proud Hyunjin couldn't be more opposed to the idea of marrying you. So much so that he's done a great deal of things behind your back to ease the pain. What will happen when everything comes to light and it becomes way too much to handle?

Hyunjin's POV

She was feared, envied even. Every woman she walked past wanted to be her and all of the men wanted a woman of her equal on his arm but no one could ever compare. She was a fair height and her skin was golden like a pool of honey, her mouth was presumably the most craved thing in the kingdom after her body. I’ve heard another man say that she has “The body of a true woman.” One would think that I am happy, ecstatic even for her to be my bride but in reality I’m far from it. 

“Hyunjin, we’ll be late if we wait any longer, can't we leave now?” As much as I’d love to remain in my chambers and hide from my mother it is no use, either I go to her or she comes to me. 

“Very well, I suppose I’ve waited long enough.” Turning to Lady Y/n I forced a smile and offered her my hand. “Shall we?” 

Confidently, she takes my hand and I lead her to my chamber doors. The guards visibly perk up as I exit and close the doors behind me. “Brogan, call for my sister. I'll be needing assistance dealing with my mother” The guard rushes off in the other direction as Lady Y/n and I make our way across the palace to my mother's quarters.

“Would it really be so horrible?” With furrowed brows I look over to Lady Y/n, she halts her movement on the garden bridge and stands in front of me. “Marrying me, is it really that frightening to you?” 

A smirk plays upon my lips as I look around to make sure that we are alone, I look her directly in the eyes “Yes, it would be, I’d rather fall into a war with the North than marry the likes of you.” My shoulder bumps into hers as I make my way past her. "Come, let's not waste anymore time." 

The remainder of the walk to my mother's quarters felt as if it lasted a thousand lunar cycles. Lady Y/n dragged herself behind me just close enough to look as if we were actually together. 

"My Lord." My mother's personal guards greeted me as I approached her chamber doors. Opening the tall doors I enter, neglecting to wait for Lady Y/n. 

I halt in my tracks and my heartbeat starts to quicken as I take in the scene before me. My mother, The general and his wife and the high priest of the realm all sat before me in a quiet huddle around my mother's common room table. 

"Look who's decided to join us." My mother's cold tone gave way to the reason that such a scene is being displayed before me. Finally, Lady Y/n makes her way Into the room and bows to my mother. 

"What the hell is this?" Scoffing my mother sets her tea cup onto the table before her. Grabbing the hand of the general's wife she lifts her to her feet. 

"Are you familiar with this woman?" My first thought is that this must be a trap, another one of my mother's creative ploys to get me to marry Lady Y/n.

"What kind of question is that mother? Of course I am familiar with the general's wife." It took everything out of me not to call her by her birth given name, Reyna, my - I mean the general's wife. 

"Do you take me as a fool, son?" Exasperated, my mother motions for the general to stand. "Jisung, inform my son of what you've been told." 

"Yes, My Queen." Standing to his feet, Han Jisung, the grand general of this realm and a dear friend of mine, looked at me with eyes I did not recognize. With a sigh he followed my mother's orders.  "It has been brought to my attention by one of my men that you've been seeing my wife." 

Fuck

"Jisung, don't be ridiculous. Do you believe your men over me?"

"My men have a loyalty to me that you don't seem to have, My Lord." 

From the corner of my eye I notice Lady Y/n tense, it is at this point that I think the both of us realize the severity of this situation.

"I foresaw that you would try to deny the truth so I took it upon myself to get the answer out of your mistress." Coming from around the table my mother trails Reyna behind her. "I told her that she can either admit to seeing the King and be sent away to the Central Realm or she can keep your dirty secret and be placed on trial for manipulating and seducing the King."

No no no no no, she's lying, my mother lies all the time to get her way this can't be any different, but when my eyes meet Reyna's it is clear to me that my mother is not bluffing. Tears well up in her honey glazed eyes causing anger to boil in my veins. 

"Do not punish Reyna for my mistakes, I will stop seeing her." The pain I felt while speaking these words is a feeling I wish to never experience again. At this point every pair of eyes in the chamber are on me, waiting for me to fix what I've done in some way.

"There you go playing me for a fool again, I don't believe you anyway. You're too passionate to stay away from this woman especially while she's with your child." 

"What?" 

"I'm sorry." Reyna's whispered words were all I needed to hear to break me down just enough for me to nearly give up but by the grace of the Gods I remembered something, something that may turn this into a victory. 

“You can not send your Queen away to the Central Kingdom.” Once again all eyes were on me as I revealed my deepest dearest secret. I’ve held these words inside my chest for far too long. “Unhand your Queen, at once.” The maniacal laugh that ripped through my mother could silence any realm within earshot.   

“How can she be your wife when she’s married to me?” Jisung’s face may have been just as painful for me to take in as Reyna’s terrified one. He is a good man and I’ve gone behind his back and slept with his wife. 

“Your marriage was never officiated by the priest. Therefore Reyna is technically an unmarried woman, well, she was an unmarried woman.” The hard swallow that followed once Jisung realized Reyna was no longer his wife was clearly an attempt at keeping his temper in check. 

“You married this girl!?” My mothers grip on Reyna’s wrist visibly tightened 

"She has every right to the throne as I do. With that being said I suggest that you unhand your queen before I smite you. You've already tested my patience." My mother throws Reyna's arm away from her in disgust. Reyna holds her wrist to her chest and begins to sob. 

"My queen, if you don't mind I need a moment. " With a bow Jisung makes his way to the chamber doors. Stopping before the guards at the entrance, he seems to be in deep thought.  "Reyna, if you come with me now I will forget this ever happened.  We can move to the Southern realm and live the life that we've always wanted.  If you stay I know you've chosen your corrupt king over me. "

With every word that Jisung spoke I wished that he was struck down by lightning.  He's trying to take my bride away from me? Without another word he moved outside of the chambers and Reyna watched him leave with pain glazed eyes. My gaze stayed on her until her eyes flickered to mine. The Queen mother watched in silence almost as if she were taking part in a mental prayer. 

"My Lord, I love you more than the Gods love this land. You've given me one of the most wonderful gifts that life could ever give and I can never fully repay you for all that you've done. " The tear that fell from Reyna's right eye gave way to my darling's response. 

"No, you're not leaving. You're with my child."

"And he will know who his father is. My Lord, I am not worthy of a life with you. I am not fit to be Queen."

"No, you can't leave, I won't let you." Reyna makes her way towards me, stopping right before me. 

"Saranghaeyo" I couldn't help the tears that sprung to my eyes. 

Without another word she hurried out of my mother's chambers avoiding all eye contact.  "Reyna." I called for her hoping she'd return but it was no use. She chose the safest option, she knows that my mother will have her killed if she stays and for that reason alone I will make sure that my mother feels the exact fear that Reyna feels right now. Directing my gaze to the queen mother I warn her. 

"Watch your step, you never know which one will have a trap door underneath it." With a smile my mother sits at her common room table and sips her tea. 

"I think it's fair to say that we can annul the union you had with your mistress and marry you and Lady Y/n." I glance over to find that Lady Y/n is gone. Not that I care.  

"I will not marry that woman, I have no feelings for her. If you're willing to force your son into a loveless marriage you have no business calling yourself a mother. "

"You're right. I'm not a mother,  I'm a queen protecting her kingdom from my son who loves to fall in love with the help.  Now go find Lady Y/n and apologize for your ignominious behavior." Charging towards my mother I slam my hands onto her common room table shaking her tea cup and startling the priest. 

"I will make every day of Lady Y/n's life a living hell and I will be sure to remind her that you are to blame for her eternal suffering." Before my mother could rebuttal a guard came rushing into her quarters. 

"Pardon me, my queen. There's an emergency in the garden. Lady Y/n has threatened to take her life." Jumping up from her seat my mother begins to panic. 

"Is she armed?" 

"Yes, my queen"

"Unarm her and bring her to me" Scoffing, I straighten my garments before turning my back to my mother.

"No, allow me to support my bride. Stay put, you've done enough

"Lady Y/n" she halted all movement at the sound of my voice. Her face was scrunched into one of a perplexed woman as she circled the rose bushes. I had them planted for her earlier this year, she often came here to think or practice archery. I remember the day that I presented the bushes to her, she was so happy, practically glowing. The look of confusion on her face almost makes me miss that happiness… that glow. 

"Stay away from me."

"My darling, please come inside. Let me talk to you about this." She turned to me with a look of betrayal stronger than I've ever seen before. 

"Talk about what? Your affairs with a married woman? You're hatred for me? I've never acted in an ill manner towards you my lord, yet you treat me as if I'm a pauper begging for your gold. I did not want to come and marry you, I had a love of my own in the Central Kingdom but I left him to be here and serve my born duty. You seem to forget that, you're not my first choice either."

"Darling -"

"Don't call me that" she points her dagger towards me as I take a step towards her."

"Y/n, please. I'll speak to my mother and convince her to have you honorably sent back to the Central kingdom. We've made an alliance with your father, all will be well." Tears fall from her eyes as she listens to my proposition. I slowly take a step towards her as she's distracted. 

"Why would I want to be sent back to the Central Realm?  To be executed for loving a merchant? That's why my father sent me here. He didn't give a fuck about your alliance, Hyunjin. He wanted a reason to get rid of his sinned seed. I've heard that man pray to the Gods that my love was a mistake. I heard Felix scream to the Gods as my father's court hung him for loving me. Why on earth would I go back to the Central Realm? To die? I'd rather die by my own hand." 

Turning her dagger to her chest she holds it firmly with her right hand.  Stopping dead in my tracks I begin to panic. Lady Y/n is no fool, if I take another step she'll drive that dagger right through her heart. 

"Y/n… my queen… please." Swallowing hard, I try to slowly move towards her. "I've been evil to you. I've shown you the hatred that I did not have the heart to show my mother. I belittled you and I am eternally regretful of my actions. It is only now that I'm being forced to face my mistakes that I realize that you have been the only person to genuinely care about me and my well-being. You came here to honor your late lover's death, not your father's wishes. Let me help you, we'll get married and change this kingdom for the better. We'll make certain that no one will ever have to endure what you have. Especially our daughter, we can turn this all around."

With a weak grin Y/n tightens her grip on the dagger. "My Lord, you can't fool me. You do not care for me and I will not force you to. Besides, I died the moment that my love was taken from me." Y/n's face went blank as she whispered to herself “I’m coming back to you sunshine.”

"Guards!" I ran towards Y/n hoping to save her. Hoping to kiss her like I meant it for once. I wanted to drop to my knees and apologize for the way I've mistreated her. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her into me. The gasps that fell from her mouth gave me the answer that I dreaded before I even looked. "Get me a healer, now!"

Dropping to my knees with her body in my arms I laid her down onto the grass. "Lady Y/n. Darling, please." I held her head up and caressed her flushed cheek. "No, no, no, no you can't leave me too. Come on, wake up." 

Blood soaked into the garden soil as my bride bled out. Her eyes fluttered shut peacefully and a mere grin was left on her face. Shaking her body softly I called out to her, praying to the gods that she'd wake up. Praying that the healers could bring my love back. In a whisper I said the words that I didn't have the courage to mutter earlier. 

"It wouldn't be horrible at all… to marry you."

[ashecampos]

WEB HEAD SEVEN

(TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️ DO NOT READ FURTHER IF YOU STRUGGLE WITH SELF HARM, PTSD, DRUG MISUSE, FLASHBACKS⚠️you have been warned)

Sweat and blood stains my suit as the rugged man drags the knife across my skin again. All I can think of in this moment is my family, tessa, Emily and Kate. Thankfully Tessa is with me in the room. Yet unthankfully she isn’t responsive at all. Through all of my screams and pleading all I can see is the man’s face. Black slicked hair with a taper fade, a few strands falling onto his cold face. Thick eyebrows, one with a scar running through it much like my own. His piercing black eyes, his defined cheek bones and large nose. His small lips and his tidy beard. The tattoo that runs up his neck and the uniform that reads HYDRA. He swings the hammer to my face as I scream once again. Darkness.

-

My body shoots up. Sweat covering my body, a cold feeling lingering as I take in my surroundings, assessing the potential dangers. With heavy sharp breaths my eyes dart around the room, a mixture of dark purples and blacks decorate the walls.

A warm hand reaches for my shoulder as a light is flicked on. I prepare myself for another slash to the face but it doesn’t come.

The person instead positions themself in front of my face. One of their hands fall onto my waist as the other reaches up to caress my cheek. I wince in pain as their finger traces the newly stitched cut on my jawline. A lavender scent fills my senses and it hits me. It’s just Kate. Looking up at her she gives me a lopsided smile. Concern evident on her face.

She speaks but I cannot hear what she says, her lips move but I cannot listen. I’m zoned out completely.

I try to concentrate on her face. The raven haired girl, comforting blue eyes, full lips, a cute nose and shaped eyebrows. Her hair is down and wavy. She is wearing my purple sweater. One of her favourites of mine.

Once again she speaks but this time I listen “Milo, I swear to god if your high again I will murder you in your sleep with a pillow. I mean I’m not saying you’re not allowed to get high of course, but you are completely out of it right now. It’s getting bad, Nat and Wanda are staring to ques…” she pauses suddenly as my arms wrap around her waist and my head falls into her shoulder. I let out a small sigh which is a mixture of relief and pain. I can’t let her know that I’m having nightmares, I need to ‘be a man’. I need to ‘man up’ as Tessa’s father would tell me when Tessa and me where playing with one of his guns and she accidentally shot my in the arm.

I take deep breaths, breathing in as much of Kate’s lavender scent as I can to calm me. She strokes her fingers through my hair, slowly to not trigger anything but fast enough for me to count how many times she’s done it without getting distracted by something.

“time?” I mumble not knowing if Kate even heard or understood what I was asking. Without missing a beat she turns her head and replies “it’s 6am Milo, remember you have to go meet your brother at eight, then you have training with Natasha at ten.” She starts to list off things in my new/forced to do by the avengers daily routine.

-

I grab a pair of black chucks, I make quick work of lacing them up and webbing one of Kate’s many bracelets onto my wrist for safe keeping. She had left for training with Clint half an hour ago now. I check the clock on my phone and it is half seven. Fuck. I stumble out of the room putting my phone in my pocket and walking straight into someone.

Just as their body moves to hit the floor I web their waist and pull them up to their feet. “Fuck shit I’m so so sorry I wasn’t looking at what I was doing I’m sorry” I say flustered and rushed, I look up toward the victim of my clumsiness and it’s none other than Wanda. A sigh of relief escapes my lungs, Wanda lets out a laugh at my actions before shaking her head and telling me to run along.

-

Luckily my brother Brogan had a first class pass into Tony Starks school for the future geniuses of the world. Is my little brother a genius, absolutely not, however his big brother is and got him a scholarship to the school, he is safely accommodated in a private mansion built specifically for the students who attend the facility, meaning he is no longer than a five minute stroll away.

Walking across the hallways of the building I hear gasps and chattering, students gawking at me like I’m iron man or something better. The next thing I know a weight is rested on my shoulders, looking down I see legs dangling from my shoulders, a pair of black and white high top Jordan’s on those legs. I don’t even need to look up to know that brogan has safely planted himself on my shoulders. A low laugh escapes his throat as he jumps off of me. We walk around campus for a few hours, I help him improve on a new mode of weaponry for hero’s he’s been working on. Before I leave I give him a long needed hug which weirdly he reciprocates, wrapping his arms around my nearly healed shoulder blade.

-

Now for the worst part of this travel. The walk home, yes I know I can just web my way back to the compound but why do so when walking is so much more fun.

Reaching into my pockets I search for my favourite thing. Eventually finding it, my weed pen. I know Kate said I have training in like 20 minutes but just a few little drags won’t hurt. It helps with everything, the pain, the anxiety, the flashbacks. Everything.

A tall brown haired man walks into me, brushing past my shoulder, he has a beard, slicked back hair and is wearing black work out gear. I don’t take another breath before taking off, my legs taking me as fast as I can. Before I know it I’m back at the compound. Running up the stairs and collapsing into my room I don’t even turn back to greet Tony or cap who both say their hellos to me.

Once in my room I see Tessa. Thank god it wasn’t Kate. “Milo” Tessa screams while looking up from her phone as she throws something at me, before my mind can comprehend what she threw I catch the it, looking down at a pillow. I look up giving her the ‘seriously’ face before we both burst out laughing. “Your tingle is getting better” she says between laughs. Groaning I throw the pillow at her, not looking at where I aimed, the pillow goes flying into her face, earning another laugh from the both of us. “you wanna come train with Natasha?” I ask knowing either way I’m going to make her take self defence classes now that hydra knows she is associated with me.

My brain fuzzy and my vision fuzzier, Nat lands another punch to me. Sparring was never my strong suit in the first place. “Seriously Milo you have to try” she shouts as she goes for another punch, I swerve my body so she barley misses my ribs, then i sweep her off of her feet before walking over to my water bottle. Tessa sits there observing me and fangirling over Nat.

I pour some water into my hands then rub my face with the ice cold liquid. A hand grips my shoulder and spins me around. It’s Nat, I can sense it is but why is she attacking me? I’m out of the ring. She pushes me back to the ring.

We go a few more rounds before she stops randomly midway through a segment. “Milo” she says using her intimidating voice. “Look at me milo” she demands. Fuck. I keep my head down, avoiding eye contact with the older widow. She takes a few steps towards me and grips my chin moving my face so I have no choice but to look her in the eyes. “for fuck sake milo” she mutters before letting my chin go and stepping out of the ring, grabbing her phone and typing something. “Sit down right now” she orders, I follow her order like an obedient puppy. I stare at the clock on the wall trying to act normal. Nat and Tessa converse for a few minutes before someone else storms into the gym. Probably the hulk. A hand grabs my arm and guides me out of the gym, leaving Tessa and Nat to talk or train. looking around I see who the culprit is, Wanda looks at me, sadness in her eyes. Panic engulfs my brain as I think the worst. She takes me into her own room and sits us both down.

“When I was younger, around your age actually, me and my brother joined this family, fresh out of HYDRA’s torment. My brother struggled with his new found powers and the new environment” she says in one breath, confused I nod allowing her to carry on, she takes a deep breath before starting again. “He started associating with the wrong people. Started taking substances, he was suicidal. He died on a mission while he was high, tried to grab Thor’s hammer while it was flying through the air” she finished before holding my hand. “I’m so sorry Wanda” I say genuinely, she shakes her head. “Milo me and Natasha have noticed you’re acting weird, coming home later than curfew and Kate has informed me that you have been struggling with sleep” she looks me dead in the eyes. Shit. “Wanda I’m fine, nothings weird about my behaviour. Even ask Tessa” I say praying she won’t ask Tessa. I’ve just got this avenger job and I can’t loose it now, I need to protect everyone.

Wanda stays silent and nods letting me off with a warning, I leave her room and head back to my own, not risking going to Kate’s as Nat has probably already told everyone now.

-

(TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️ DO NOT READ FURTHER IF YOU STRUGGLE WITH SELF HARM)

I run straight to my bathroom, my back hitting the cold tiles of the wall, I slowly slide down it and press my knees up to my chest, trying to take deep breaths. Without thinking or even hesitating my right hand shoots a web onto a set of draws attached to a vanity, I open the drawer and pull out a small metal box with my ‘shaving’ tools in it. I make quick work of grabbing my chosen weapon. A small razor blade, the silver glistens against the harsh light coming through the windows from the suns rays. I pull my hoodies sleeves up to my biceps and look at where to start. Angry red lines mock me as I stare at them. Ignoring the pain I slowly and harshly drag the blade across my wrist making a multitude of lines ranging from my wrist to my inner elbow. Then the same on my other arm. It’s only when my vision starts to become blurry that I realise how much shit I’m in. My eyes start to close and darkness.

A knock on my bedroom door startles me awake, with spotty vision I manage to make out that I am on the bathroom floor, not sure why though. I hear the bedroom door click open then a few seconds later I hear it click closed. That was a close call. “Hey Milo I noticed you haven’t been out of your room in hours I decided to bring you some food” I hear a woman’s voice, a hint of sokovian dripping off of the American accent. Footsteps come closer to the bathroom door and then another knock. “Milo? I can see you have to light on in there, please let me know your okay” she says quietly. Another few seconds passes and for some reason I can’t bring myself to answer. Maybe it’s because I know if I speak my shakey voice will give it away or maybe I’m frozen in fear and confusion. “Milo I’ll give you three seconds to either come out or say something or I’m coming in” she says a little louder. “One” fuck she must be bluffing she wouldn’t actually come in, right? “Two” say something Milo or she is going to find out, I grab a towel and press it to my arm, grabbing another and doing the same to the other arm. The once white towels turning red. “Three” she twists the door knob and starts to open the door, fuck she wasn’t bluffing.

Once the door is fully open she scans the room before lowering her eyes to meet my own. Not even a second passes before she is running over and knelt down beside me gripping the towels to my arms. “Fuck fuck fuck what the fuck Milo” she whispers while caressing my cheek with one hand “bandages, where do you keep them” she mumbles while standing up and opening all of my drawers. Without needing an answer from me she finds a first aid box, one that every room has, kneeling back down and opening the box she starts placing things on the floor, alcohol wipes, bandages, and scissors. She opens the wipes and takes the towel off of my left arm, looking me in the eyes, her own turning a hint of red, she’s using her powers. She quickly disinfects my wounds and wraps both of my arms before letting me out of her mind control.

She does as she intended and escorted me to Kate’s room, first making sure I pulled the sleeves of my hoodie down and had eaten some food so I didn’t end up loosing consciousness on the way to the room next door to my own. Kate is none the wiser to what had happened. Me and her cuddle until we both end up asleep.

-

Kate wakes me up with breakfast in bed while informing me that tonight we are attending a stark party. I eat a little bit of the breakfast before giving her the majority of it, I then make my way to hang out with Tessa, kissing Kate on the cheek before I leave of course.

-

Me and Tessa stay in her room most of the day gossiping about our time and what we have seen in the compound, she scolds me for showing up to a training session high before realising we need outfits for the party tonight. We always match for these things, this will not be an exception.

After searching for what seems like forever, Natasha agreed to let Tessa borrow one of her dresses and Tony handed me one of his vintage suits a simple yet elegant black suit with a black dress shirt, I pair these with my favourite pair of doc martens, then to complete the outfit I tie my hair up into a slick man bun, combing down any loose hairs. I get pushed into the bathroom by Kate and Tessa to put it on while they put theirs on. I stumble out of the bathroom before straightening my posture and looking at the two most beautiful girls in the multiverse.

Tessa is in a floor length satin gown, a modest yet revealing slit runs down the front of the dress revealing a glimpse of her legs. Her hair and makeup is done, not too much but the perfect amount.

Alike to Tessa, Kate picked out a Lilac coloured satin dress with a lavender glitter on the top of the sweetheart neckline. Kate’s hair is half up, half down, she has mascara and a winged liner on. Both of their dresses are paired with heels making them a little taller than me.

While walking into the party me and Kate loose Tessa on the way in while we greet people, Tessa probably just went to the bathroom to freshen up Kate reassures me.

Looking into my eyes as a slow dance song plays, she wraps her arms around my neck, mine take their respective place on her waist, she smiles. A gentle, genuine smile. You don’t see many of those these days. I smile back a goofy one, earning a chuckle and a slap on the shoulder from her.

As if on que a loud bang is heard throughout the party hall. I wasn’t planning on this type of workout tonight but I guess it’ll have to be done. All of the avengers look between one another and sigh, running to the noise. A few of us are commanded to stay behind and keep the guests safe and entertained. Those people being me, Kate, yelena, Clint and some woman named Jennifer, she has some relation to Bruce but I haven’t really met the whole extended team yet. What better time than in the present though I guess.

[redsoapbox]

HAVE YOURSELF A MERRY INDIE CHRISTMAS: 4TH AND FINAL VOLUME - THE BUMPER TRACKLIST REVEALED

As I write this, the tracklist for volume 4 stands at a bumper 65 tracks, with another one or two last-minute additions still possible. As you may know this is 50 more tracks than I had in mind when I decided, very late in the day, to curate one last volume. The response has been incredible. All the more so, given that I had just about exhausted the main source for tracks - Christmas Underground and the associated links to many other blogs/podcasts/Christmas shows found there.

I still turned first to Christmas Underground, as the archive there is so comprehensive I reasoned that I must have missed a few gems and also there may have been further additions (there were and I nabbed some of them!). The seam at bandcamp was very nearly exhausted - I've listened to every Indie Xmas compilation on there ten times over - but there were one or two newer tracks that I managed to get this time around. I also tried again with bands that had not responded to requests on the first three volumes and struck it lucky 4th time of trying with a half-dozen artists. Then I decided to listen to Christmas shows on Mixcloud - the Andy Von Pip shows brought many Xmas songs to my attention that I hadn't heard before and my strike rate was pretty good when following up with those artists.

Desperate, though, to find as many great tracks as possible for the last album, I resorted to spending days on Discogs. I entered the name of every Independent label I could find and used keywords - Christmas, Snow, Winter, Santa to find any tracks released on that label. Mostly I was met with a zero. Occasionally, though, I turned up a match. I then had to listen to see if the track was any good, then see if the band was contactable through bandcamp, Facebook etc. Many were not, but I slowly started to gather tracks, many from decades ago, which is why you will notice in the tracklisting below a surprising number of songs from Indie bands of the 80's, 90's (my heyday!). Then bands from earlier volumes started to contact me, asking if I wanted another contribution from them.

All said and done, I received a mammoth response from a wonderful set of musicians. A huge thank you to them all. Once again, there is no filler here, not even on a 65-track album. The digital-only album is released on bandcamp Friday 6th of December (£7) with any purchases on that day not subject to bandcamp commission, therefore raising more money for Crisis - https://v4velindre.bandcamp.com/music

Here is the track list, beginning with the song Clash magazine declared as the 'mistletoe anthem' of 2018.

WHYTE HORSES - NEXT YEAR WILL BE MINE

THE RELATIONSHIPS - CHRISTMAS SONG

GRANDADDY - IT WAS A SILENT NIGHT AT LEAST UNTIL JEFF LYNNE ARRIVED

THE RAVEONETTES - CHRISTMAS GHOST

BIG SOCIETY - DECEMBER FOREVER

THE ORCHIDS - I WISH I WAS

THE LUCKSMITHS - THE WINTER PROPER

SHIRESE - CHRISTMAS IN EAST HAVEN

HANEMOON - SNOWBALL IN THE EYE

RED SLEEPING BEAUTY - CHRISTMAS

TV SMITH - XMAS BLOODY XMAS

CALEB NICHOLS -CHRISTMAS, CALIFORNIA

PALE SUNDAY - THE WINTER SONG

THE PROCTORS - ICELANDIC

SWANSEA SOUND - THE LIFE WE LED

THEATRE ROYAL AND FRIENDS - I BELIEVE IN FATHER CHRISTMAS

DYLAN MONDEGREEN -THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS PAST

FIREFLIES -SNOW BEGINS TO FALL

MILTON AND JONES - THIS LIFE (THIS CHRISTMAS) 2024 MIX

THE DUKE OF NORFOLK - LOVELY WINTER

STILL FLYING' - ST VEIT

AUX CAROLING - IS MICHAEL CLAYTON A CHRISTMAS MOVIE

BOYRACER - MAGIC TO ME

OLYMPIANS - LEAVING YOU AT CHRISTMAS

SKIING - 26TH OF DECEMBER

LIA PAMINA AND DARIO PERSI - CHRISTMAS' OVER

MARSHEAUX - WE MET BERNARD SUMNER AT A CHRISTMAS PARTY LAST NIGHT

LOVEJOY - I DREAM OF ANGELS

NEIL BROGAN - OUR FIRST CHRISTMAS

THE DEPRECIATION GUILD - THROUGH THE SNOW

THE SULTANS OF PING - CHRISTMAS BUBBLEGUM MACHINE

BRIGHTER - CHRISTMAS

THE WINDMILLS - WHEN IT WAS WINTER

NATURE SET - EDWARD

SATURDAY LOOKS GOOD TO ME -THIS TIME EVERY YEAR

FRANK BANGO - HOLIDAY EPISODE

GATEWAY TO THOUSEN - INDIE CHRISTMAS

JASON ANDERSON - CHRISTMAS

THIS YEARS MODEL - I THINK THE SNOW SAVED ME

CAMPFIRE SOCIAL - LET'S JUST DO CHRISTMAS NEXT YEAR

THE HEATHEN AND THE HOLY - BEST CHRISTMAS YET

WARM DIGITS - GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU THIS CHRISTMAS

ICE CHOIR - IT'S DIFFERENT NOW

APPLENNIUM - IS THIS CHRISTMAS

LES BICYCLETTES de BeELSIZE - DUFFLECOAT CHRISTMAS

ROYAL LANDSCAPING SOCIETY - FROST

THE PHOTOCOPIES - CHRISTMAS ALONE

THE RHYNES - DECEMBER BOY

KISSING PARTY - MERRY CHRISTMAS DARLING

ALPINE SUBS - OVER WICHITA

THE CANDY STRYPERS - FORGOT THE CHRISTMAS TREE

NORTHERN PICTURE LIBRARY - SNOWSCENE

EX-RENTAL - CHRISTMAS IN THE SYNTHESIZER AGE

NO BERLIN - WAITING FOR CHRISTMAS

THE KAISERS - MERRY CHRISTMAS LOOPY LU

DARK HORSES - JUL SONG

THE YELLOW MELODIES - CORDIALES Y MAZAPANES

APRIL MARCH AND LOS CINCOS - LAST TRAIN TO CHRISTMAS

KAT QUINN - GIRL IN AN UGLY SWEATER

THE YEARNING - I JUST WANNA HOLD YOUR HAND (ON CHRISTMAS DAY)

LOUIS PHILLIPE - XMAS SUN

THE VERY MOST - IT'S THE BEST THING

THE ORNAMENTS - WOULD IT KILL YOU TO KISS ME UNDER THE CHRISTMAS TREE

THE HANNAH BARBERAS - DANCIN' SANTA

GUSTAFER YELLOWGOLD - FA AND A LA

Track 5 - Big Society - December Forever

[plethoraworldatlas]

Big Tech, Big Oil, and private equity firms are among the leading companies that profit from controlling media and technology, accelerating the climate crisis, privatizing public goods and services, and violating human and workers' rights, the International Trade Union Confederation revealed on Monday.

The ITUC has labeled seven major companies as "corporate underminers of democracy" that lobby against government attempts to hold them accountable and are headed by super-rich individuals who fund right-wing political movements and leaders.

"This is about power, who has it, and who sets the agenda," Todd Brogan, director of campaigns and organizing at the ITUC, toldThe Guardian. "We know as trade unionists that unless we're organized, the boss sets the agenda in the workplace, and we know as citizens in our countries that unless we're organized and demanding responsive governments that actually meet the needs of people, it's corporate power that's going to set the agenda."

The "corporate underminers of democracy" are:

Amazon.com, Inc.

Blackstone Group

ExxonMobil

Glencore

Meta

Tesla

The Vanguard Group

ITUC chose the seven companies based on preexisting reporting and research, as well as talks with allied groups like the Council of Global Unions and the Reactionary International Research Consortium. The seven companies were "emblematic" of a broader trend, and the confederation said it would continue to add "market-leading" companies to the list.

"While these seven corporations are among the most egregious underminers of democracy, they are hardly alone," ITUC said. "Whether state-owned enterprises in China, Russia, and Saudi Arabia; private sector military contractors; or regulation-busting tech startups, the ITUC and its partners will continue to identify and track corporate underminers of democracy and their links to the far-right."

Amazon topped the list due to its "union busting and low wages on multiple continents, monopoly in e-commerce, egregious carbon emissions through its AWS data centers, corporate tax evasion, and lobbying at national and international level," ITUC wrote.

In the U.S., for example, Amazon has responded to attempts to hold it accountable for labor violations by challenging the constitutionality of the National Labor Relations Board. While its founder Jeff Bezos voices liberal opinions, Amazon's political donations have advanced the right by challenging women's rights and antitrust efforts.

Blackstone is the world's largest private equity firm and private real-estate owner whose CEO, Stephen Schwarzman, has given to right-wing politicians including former U.S. President Donald Trump's 2024 reelection campaign. It funds fossil fuel projects and the destruction of the Amazon and profited from speculating on the housing market after the 2008 financial crash.

The United Nations special papporteur on housing said the company used "its significant resources and political leverage to undermine domestic laws and policies that would in fact improve access to adequate housing."

ExxonMobil made the list largely for its history of funding climate denial and its ongoing lobbying against needed environmental regulations.

"Perhaps the greatest example of Exxon's disinterest in democratic deliberation was its corporate commitment of nearly four decades to conceal from the public its own internal evidence that climate change was real, accelerating, and driven by fossil fuel use while simultaneously financing far-right think tanks in the U.S. and Europe to inject climate scepticism and denialism into the public discourse," ITUC wrote.

Glencore is the world's largest commodities trader and the largest mining company when judged by revenue. Several civil society and Indigenous rights groups have launched campaigns against it over its anti-democratic policies. It has allegedly funded right-wing paramilitaries in Colombia and anti-protest vigilantes in Peru.

"The company's undermining of democracy is not in dispute, as it has in recent years pled guilty to committing bribery, corruption, and market manipulation in countries as varied as Venezuela, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Cameroon, Equatorial Guinea, Cote d'Ivoire, Nigeria, and South Sudan," ITUC said

[allovertheworldblog]

A book to travel with

To have a book to read is indispensable for the traveller.

This time before I left Dublin I bought a book on Japan in Chapters Bookstore on Parnell Street.

I thought it was travel literature, but it turns out to be translated stories on contemporary Japan by Japanese writers, which is still good.

In Bergen I bought 4 more books to add to the small collection, which also included a few travel guides.

The new books included Graham Greene’s wonderful Journey Without Maps, about his exploits travelling through the unknown and unmapped heart of Liberia in the mid 1930’s;

Jack Kerouac’s Lonesome Traveller, a more different book in terms of subject and style I couldn’t have found if I’d have tried.

from Graham Greene’s Journey Without Maps:

“…..  It was a long while before anyone thought of asking whether he was the Liberian messenger. He wasn’t, the messenger had disappeared from Kailahun, the stranger was a German. He wanted a bed; he had dropped in to Kailahun as casually as if it were a German village where he would be sure to find an inn.

He had a bland secretive innocence; he had come from the Republic and he was going back to the Republic; he gave no indication of why he had come or why he was going or what he was doing in Africa at all. 

I took him for a prospector, but it turned out later that he was concerned with nothing as material as gold or diamonds.

He was just learning.

He sat back in his chair, seeming to pay no attention to anyone; when he asked a question he gave a tiny laugh (you thought: I have something very foolish, very superficial), and gave no answer until later, when you had forgotten the question.

He was young in spite of his beard; he had an aristocratic air in spite of his beachcomber’s dress, and he was wiser than any of us.

He was the only one who knew exactly what he wanted to learn, who knew the exact extent of ignorance. He could speak Mende; he was picking up Buzie; and he had a few words of Pelle: it took time.

He had only been two years in West Africa.

I discovered this very gradually; it took longer than the breakfast to which he came next day, more aristocratic than ever in a clean shirt and a pair of fawn trousers, with an ivory headed stick, a round white topee, a long cigarette holder in the corner of his mouth….”

I was aware of Jack Kerouac before but had never read his work. I read Journey Without Maps by Graham Greene in Iceland and started on Lonesome Traveller in the USA, it seemed appropriate to save Kerouac for the States.

from Lonesome Traveller:

“ ‘We’ll get outa here and make tracks - I’ve got it all planned Kerouac what we’re gonna do tonight tomorrow and the whole weekend; I’ve been talking to all the cooks, we’ve got it all planned, a letter for you down to Jim Jackson at the hall and you’re going to sleep in the cadets’ satteroom on board, think of it Kerouac a whole stateroom to yourself,

and Mr. Smith has agreed to come with us and celebrate, hm a mahya’. - Mr Smith was the fat pale potbellied wizard or oiler or general watertender, he was the funniest old guy you’d ever wish to see and already Deni was laughing and feeling good and forgetting the imaginary enemies - out there on the pier street it was evident we were in the clear.

Deni was wearing an expensive Hong Kong blue serge suit, with soldiers in his shoulder pads and a fine drape, a beautiful suit, in which, now, beside mine in my road rags, he stomped around like a French farmer throwing his biggest brogans over the rows…..”

[rielpolitik]

ALTERED STATES: 'False Identity', Who Is Really Mentally Ill? - By Kelly Brogan, M.D.

Source – wakeup-world.com “…It’s my belief that those who are mentally ill are the canaries in this coal mine. Whose bodies, minds, and spirits are exquisitely sensitive to all that is off, amiss, misaligned, and divergent from truth. What if these illnesses are a special invitation to wake up, to embody, and to move through a dark night, a tight passage, shedding one more artificial skin,…

[yelmor-boots]

Broganes take a drive

Wanted to redraw this Broganes picture but with a bit more expression. I think I like the new version better... yeah, no, I definitely like the new version better.

[reigensarataka]

LOOK @ HOW TINY KEITH IS COMPARED TO SHIRO IM JWHHWWUHRHJF

[lanceisgayking]

Shiro, each time he’s chilling and Keith comes screaming about his crush on Lance:

[sokkabi]

how keith’s coming out went:

keith: shiro i...i think i’m gay

shiro: oh thank god

keith: ???

shiro: i was so afraid adam and i had raised a straight

[glitradora]

- Adam after Shiro and Keith come back to earth and neither sent him a family message -

Adam, coming to meet them on the lion hanger: Where. Have. You. Been?!

Adam, now smiling: Paladins - how wonderful to see you.

Adam, turning back to Shiro and Keith: Beds empty! No note! Motorcycle gone! You could have died!

[therainb0wpaladin]