#I will now hide in fear in case I get blasted or something.

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

Request: Hi!!! Could you please do a Winchester!sister fic where her and dean love doing prank wars and Sam is kind of against it knowing how far both Dean and y/n could go and he says someone would end up getting hurt but they do the prank wars anyway, and she wants to pull off a choking prank but accidentally ends up actually choking

A/N: OKAY THIS ONE WAS SO FUN TO WRITE!! Also I wrote the boy who cried werewolf bc I felt like it was more fitting and put a spin on the supernatural world lol. I hope you enjoy and I hope this was what you were looking for! If not just send in another request. Requests are also open so please ask me to write something. I’m open to anything!

Pairings: Dean and Sam x Sister!Reader

You shrieked as Dean chased you through the halls.

“Get back here!” He shouted, gaining on you.

You ran to the library hoping to find Sam. As soon as you turned the corner you saw him and sighed in relief.

“Sammy!” You squealed, running at him with full force with Dean on your tail.

“What!” He yelled, alarmed that there was something wrong.

“Help me!” You screamed, laughing as you grabbed him and shoved him towards Dean.

“Sorry, that’s not going to work kiddo,” Dean said as he dodged Sam and lunged at you.

“No!” You screamed. “Sam please!” Your heart was pounding as you shrieked.

Dean grabbed you and held you down as he shook out his cold soaking wet hair all over you.

You fell to the ground squealing, “no, no, no, no!”

Dean laughed, “that’s what you get for dumping it on me while I was sleeping!” He said.

“Oh here we go.” Sam sighed, understanding what was now going on.

“I only did that because you put toothpaste in the Oreos!” You said in disbelief. “What did you even do with the creme?!” You asked.

“I scraped it out of each cookie, put it all in a bowl and I ate it,” he smirked at you knowing it was your favorite.

You gasped, “how dare you!”

“You know what kid?” He asked. “I think you just declared prank wars.” He finished.

“Yeah I’ve declared them and I’m gonna win them,” you sassed.

Sam groaned and looked between the two of you. “You two have to be careful. You both take things way too far and someone’s going to get hurt.” He said, giving you a look knowing it was probably going to be you.

You looked at him and then smirked at Dean, “it’s not going to be me who gets hurt.”

Dean squinted his eyes at you, “oh yeah?” He said before faking a lunge at you.

You squealed, ready to run before you realized he wasn’t actually going to go after you.

You put your hand to your chest to control your heart rate, “oh it’s so on.”

Dean agreed and Sam rolled his eyes— he just knew it was going to end badly.

——-

Sam was out interviewing someone for the case that the three of you were on and Dean ran out to go pick up some food for dinner. You were laying in your bed when you heard creepy carnival music blast through the bunker. You froze in place and felt your heart drop. There was nothing scarier than a circus and everything that was involved with them. More importantly clowns. You and Sam had that fear in common. You jumped up in bed when you heard one of the doors of the bunker slam. You immediately went to reach for your gun, but couldn’t find it. Thats weird, you thought. You almost always had your gun there and it wasn’t like you to misplace a freaking gun. You were absolutely terrified and completely unsettled. You slowly tiptoed to your door before you looked out of it. Your heart dropped to your toes when you saw the scariest most creepy clown you’ve ever seen in your entire life standing at the end of the hall. Your breath got caught in your throat as you made a run for it. Your only fighting chance was to run and hide at this point until one of your brothers got back. You were too terrified to even think about how a haunted killer monster clown got into the bunker in the first place. As you turned the corner in the hallway you rammed right into the clown. You fell down and slammed your head against the floor. You whimpered in pain and started screaming in bloody terror. Your absolute worse fear came true and you started sobbing. Sure you fought monsters, but the creepy music blasting and your worst fear ready to kill you, completely shut you down. You were hysterical and closed your eyes waiting for the inevitable end.

“What’s wrong?!” You heard Sam shout from the end of the hallway and it was all you needed to gain an ounce of strength back. You scrambled up without even glancing at the clown and charged towards Sam.

“Sam!” You screamed. You were still bawling your eyes out inconsolable as you flung yourself into his arms.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, looking down the hallway. That’s when he saw Dean in a clown costume and the mask in his hand.

“There’s a c-cl-clown,” you screamed in between your sobs. You were trying to pull him down the hallway implying that they needed to run, but he held you steady in his arms. That freaked you out even more so you started flailing your limbs to escape.

“We need to run!” You screeched, terrified of the clown getting to you.

“Hey kiddo! It’s just Dean, it’s okay, it’s just Dean!” He said trying to get you to calm down in his arms. You snapped your head towards the direction of the clown and saw Dean standing there in half the costume. You collapsed into Sam’s arms in relief.

“You’re safe, it’s okay.” Sam whispered as he felt your heart beat pounding through your body. You took a deep breath in to try to calm yourself down.

“That’s it bug, breathe.” Sam said as he sent his brother a glare.

“Really Dean?” Sam sighed as he walked closer to the both of you.

He shot Sam an oops look before placing a hand on your shoulder.

“That was way too far De,” you whimpered.

“I’m sorry kid…” Dean trailed off. “Does that mean I win?” He asked.

——-

Dean really thought he was going to win prank wars and you were not going to let that happen. He went far, but you could go even further.

You were sitting at the table with Dean, eating the breakfast you made. Sam preferred to go grab a smoothie so it was just you two and the prank was going perfectly. You swallowed your food, but stood up from your chair gasping and grabbing your throat. You looked at Dean with wide eyes, practically begging him for help.

“Are you choking!” Dean shouted as he stood up. You continued to gasp for air and Dean rushed over to you. He started pounding your back, but you continued to gasp.

“Come on kid!” He screamed, frantically. When he realized it wasn’t working, he started giving you the heimlich. You let it go on for about 30 more seconds before you burst out laughing. He let you go and you fell to your knees. You rolled into your back and pointed up at him.

“Got ya!” You said, cracking up.

He looked at you pissed, “that’s really not funny. THAT was too far.” He said.

You continued to chuckle, “does that mean I win?” You asked sarcastically, mocking him from when he pranked you.

“No seriously that’s not funny. What if you really need help one day and I won’t think you’re serious so I don’t help you. Are you the boy who cried werewolf?” He asked.

You gave him a bitch face, “I wouldn’t cry werewolf Dean, I would just kill it.” You sassed, matter of factly.

He sighed, “you know that’s not what I meant.” He said and rolled his eyes. “It’s officially gone too far kid, I tap out. You win.” He said defeatedly.

“Wahooooo!” You cheered before he interrupted you.

“Yeah only because this has officially gone too far and I don’t need you getting hurt.” He stared you down.

“Whatever! I won, I won, I won, I won!” You exclaimed as he huffed.

——-

The three of you sat eating dinner at the table. “Prank wars are over Sammy and I won!” You bragged as you stuffed your face with food.

“Yeah only because you took it way too far.” Dean said, trying to explain his defeat.

“You took it too far first!” You yelled trying to defend your win.

Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. “You both take things way too far and I’m just glad it stopped before someone got seriously hurt.” He said as you shoved more French fries into your mouth.

You started to say something back to him, but accidentally swallowed a fry at the same time. You felt it get stuck in your throat and you jumped out of your chair.

You grabbed both of your brothers attention with your sudden movements and you looked at them both with wide eyes. You tried breathing in, but gasped for air instead.

“Are you choking?” Sam gasped. You shook your head, panicked.

“Y/N Stop! Sam she’s pranking us.” He said clearly pissed off at your antics.

You looked at him with terrified eyes. This was it. You really were the boy who cried werewolf and now you were going to die in front of your brothers because they thought you were pranking them. What were the odds? As you fell to the ground wheezing what you felt like was going to be your last attempt at life, Sam rushed to you. He grabbed you from behind and started giving you the heimlich. You were trembling in his arms, fighting for your life until you spit the French fry out on the floor. As Sam loosened his grip on you, he felt you weakly collapsing. He grabbed you and held you tighter to prevent you from hitting the floor.

“You’re okay bug, you’re okay.” He calmly spoke as you gasped for air. You let out a strangled cry and felt Sam rub your back.

“It’s alright, I got you, breathe.” He said trying to calm you down. Once you got control of your breathing and your emotions you looked up at Dean. He stared at you in shock, not knowing what the hell just happened.

“Are you okay?” He asked getting out of his seat once the shock left his body.

You sent him a shaky thumbs up and relaxed into Sam’s arms. Dean squatted down in front of you and ran a hand down the side of your head. He sighed in relief, “sorry, I really thought you were pranking me one last time.” He said.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and shook your head.

“No more pranks ever again,” you said shakily.

Dean nodded and pulled you up from the floor.

Sam stood up after you and shook his head. “It always ends bad. You two are officially banned from prank wars.” He sighed.

[theclaravoyant]

fireworks - bucktommy (T, ~1000wd)

AN ~ now taking prompts! because i can't help myself . in the meantime please enjoy this little hurtcomfort, inspired by the prompts "late night conversations/anxiety" for upcoming @evanbuckleyweek <3 (I couldn't wait that long!)

also on AO3.

-

Can't make it tonight babe :( Not feeling so hot.

Buck is running late, but not so late that he doesn't have time to stop by on his way to the Grant-Nash gathering for a little bit of boyfriending. Tommy had sadly had to pull out of this one, but not to worry, Buck has brought over his favourite meatball sub in case he's feeling like a pick me up.. and a bottle of ginger ale in case he's not.

Either way, as he approaches the front door Buck is surprised to hear music so loud – albeit muffled – that the bass in it shakes the windows.

“Tommy?”

He frowns. He, for one, isn't one to blast his workout mix when he's stuck in bed, or bent over a toilet bowl, or whatever other nastiness supposedly awaits him. The lights are off inside.

Brought dinner, he taps into his phone. All good?

He bounces on the balls of his feet.

Babe, let me in x

There's no response, not even those little bouncing dots. Buck is definitely not thinking about Tommy passed out on the living room floor or kidnapped or something. But he does pull up Athena's number before he reaches for the spare key. Just in case.

“Babe!” he calls, looking around. The house is dark. This still feels like something he shouldn't really be doing. “Tommy!”

He follows the sound toward the basement stairs, where light is coming through. From down below, he hears the grunts and slaps of rigorous exercise... or something else, and it dawns on him that well, he and Tommy haven't technically agreed, haven't really discussed, if they're exclusive or anything and he might be intruding on something and that little voice in the back of his head that tells him nobody's ever all in is getting so loud... He freezes at the bottom of the stairs, just before he can turn the corner and see something. What the hell is he doing. How fast can he back track without Tommy noticing that he's being jealous and weird and-

The music stops.

Well. Here goes.

-

“Evan?”

Tommy can't help it, his face lights up at the sight of him. Which is weird, because Evan looks sort of mortified. Probably because Tommy had bailed on something important to him under the guise of being sick and here he is, very much not throwing up or hiding from the light or anything, slicked with so much sweat his hair has dropped a few shades in colour.

“Tommy. Y- You're feeling better?”

“You brought a sandwich?”

“Botticelli's.”

Damn it. Tommy throws his head back, closes his eyes as a pang of guilt punches through him. The kid went and brought his favourite sandwich. He just wants to make sure he's okay. Damn it, damn it.

“I can explain.”

“Is this because you're not ready to meet Athena? 'Cause she can give one hell of a shovel talk but she's cool, really.”

“I've met Athena,” Tommy assures him. In spite of himself, a smile touches his lips, because that was kind of a significant part of this whole thing. “Evan – I promise, this has nothing to do with us.”

It seems to help a little bit. At least, enough that Evan trails after him into the basement proper while he paces and takes a swig of water and tries to wrangle the courage to say it.

“The fourth of July is just... not my thing,” he manages. “I don't really like fireworks.”

He looks Evan in the eyes as he puts it together. Maybe he knows Eddie doesn't either, maybe he knows it's a common trigger for veterans, maybe he just knows what it's like to try and pack the depths of unspeakable horror into words. Especially when you're meant to be a badass fearless firefighter.

“I'm sorry,” Evan says. The fear and confusion and anguish melts away, his expression painfully earnest and concerned as he closes the distance between them. Part of Tommy wants to bury his face, to freeze like a rabbit or run and hide, but something about Evan, as always, makes him stay.

“I'm sorry,” he breathes. “I didn't mean to lie. I'm just … used to dealing with this by myself. And you- you're so- I mean, you died? You actually, for real died in a thunder storm and you got in a helicopter to fly into a hurricane like it was nothing. I guess I worried you wouldn't get it.”

Evan cups a hand around the back of his neck and it's grounding, it's nice, and Tommy's forehead falls forward against Evan's. He takes a ragged breath. Evan's phone starts ringing.

“You don't have to tell me,” Evan says, “what you've been through. But I'm here for you, okay? If you want me.” He glances at his phone and adds- “It's Maddie. Just checking where I'm at. Want me to tell them I'm not coming?”

Tommy shakes his head. “No. Go. I'll be alright here, have a night in. My boyfriend brought me my favourite sandwich."

-

He smiles. Buck smiles back, and presses forward a gentle, comforting kiss before they part. Tommy shakes it off as he heads back toward the stairs, but there's a long stretch of silence. The muffled whistle and echoing boom of an airbomb sails overhead and he can hear Tommy's breath quietly catch and it's almost as if it pulls out the words from his chest.

“I can't remember the lightning.”

“Hm?”

He turns back. Tommy is watching after him.

“I can't remember the lightning, Tommy. That's probably why I can fly into a hurricane. It's- actually it's pineapple jello for me. It was all I could eat for weeks after they took the tubes out. Pineapple jello and vanilla icecream. The first time I smelt a piña colada after I got out, I thought I was going to die.”

I get it.

Tommy nods. After a beat, he adds-

“And hey, Evan. This is something I kind of like to keep to myself. So if anyone asks-”

“Violent gastro. Got it.”

He rolls his eyes, and huffs, and smiles as he tucks the little foam earplug back in place.

“I love you, too.”

[notimetoparty]

Okay, here’s MY question: would Present try to kill their own siblings if they saw them? Would the resemblance throw them off too much?

For A Weapon, killing people is easy.

It's what it was made for, it's what it was born for. It was told its only reason it continued to breathe was this one task...to exterminate the plague. If it did not kill, there would be no reason for it to live.

When the government found where those last remnants of the plague were, in a world far beyond the reaches of most, it knew its mission was almost complete. That this would be the final, small step to realizing that purpose it was given. It went there without a second thought, expecting to come back to its cell later with discolored blood on its paws and pincers.

It was surprised at how little survival skills the first one it found had. This beast, despite the scar on its eye, was wandering next to the border of the woods in broad daylight. What was it even doing? It watched, to its surprise, as the rusty black thing pulled out a guitar and sat on a log. It began to play a tune, messing up the melody and stomping on the ground each time with a hiss.

Unusual. Idiotic, too. The plagued normally knew to hide away, to live in the darkest corners of every world. And yet this case chose to sing and complain. Whatever. That made it easier to strike.

Eyes peering through the underbrush, it stalked and stepped closer. It pondered the most efficient way to snuff out its life. Avoid the head, to get away from the mandibles and pincers. Go for the neck. Always the neck. Stab and blast if needed, but don't waste valuable ammunition. Make sure that-

Snap.

So lost in thought, it forgot to avoid any of the sticks on the grassy floor. The plagued turned around curiously, now face to face with a yellow behemoth.

And they tilted their head, chuckling.

"Woah. Where the hell did you come from!?” She chirped. Another laugh erupted from them, a small chitter to their voice. “Are you a weirdo, hanging out in the forest? A little forest loser?”

…It blinked. It definitely should kill this thing here and now, right? It would be incredibly easy. But something made it pause. It instead gave a blunt, monotone reply.

“What.”

Without missing a beat, she then pointed at the augmentations attached to its arms and back. “What are those things on you? Some cool cyber stuff? Nerd!”

He continued to chuckle and joke, much to its annoyance as it growled. Eventually she calmed, wiping a tear from her eye as she gave a passing “sorry”.

“Whatever, it’s cool. My brother is also a nerd. He also likes running around the woods like a little freak! You two would get along great.”

Was this bug trying to make conversation? What an idiot. It glared at her, unmoving and unamused as it let out a huff.

“You should be more fearful of what lies in the forest,” It warned, “because I’m not here to make small talk.”

In response, she only shrugged.

“Whatev. I’m gonna go practice guitar somewhere else. Have fun pretending to be a sci-fi protag or something.”

Just like that, the guy turned away with her guitar in hand, humming a tune and giggling still under her breath. “Man, the fam is gonna love this story!” It heard her mumble as she escaped from its sight.

It should’ve pounced while the thing’s back was turned. It knew that. And yet…it let the creature go off without issue, as though its body was frozen in place. Were the circumstances that bizarre, so as to make a weapon not fire its shot? Nothing was special about that person, besides the unusually fluffy body compared to other plagued specimens.

Was it the similarities to itself that had it hesitant? The way their eyes bore the same red, and how her tail looked almost too similar to the one it bore? It was pointless to contemplate. It was pointless to compare yourself to the things you were meant to kill. Now, it was too late to even try to track where she had gone. She was already far out of sight, leaving it on its lonesome and without a new lead.

In a moment of weakness, the weapon snarled and kicked at the ground.

Killing was meant to be easy. Why was this suddenly so difficult? -Zinc

[chaosduckies]

Restoration (Chapter 2)

And here’s the second chapter! I tried drawing something for it, but I am not under any circumstance the best artist. Maybe I can just try something later?

Word Count: 3,750

CW: Slight mentions of suicide, panic attacks, fear, idk if there’s anything else to tag

2-Nathan 

It’s been an entire week of dragging myself all around the school. Trying to ignore the fact that there were giants practically everywhere I had looked. Nothing had ever worked though. No matter how hard I really tried to block out the loud voices that were always looming over me. No matter how much I had tried to stay as far away as possible. It was like those stupid laughs and that terrifying smile kept haunting me. And it doesn’t help that at the very end of the day I’m constantly in arms reach of living through that hell again. 

I guess everything wasn’t all bad though. My mom was happier now since I was finally living a normal life again, but I don’t think I’ll ever live a normal life like she wants me to. You can’t just erase seven years of your life and act like they never happened. You can’t just completely heal scars. 

  Everything was okay though. Nothing bad has happened. Yet. It just seemed all too good. I mean, I had heard some rumors that were being spread about me. That I was mute, or that I was just deaf or something of the sorts. That wasn’t the case, I just find it hard to talk to people. Especially to people who just love making and spreading those stupid rumors. I guess they kind of helped me out though. I’d rather get through this year of high school alone than having to worry about losing friends. Can’t lose what you don’t have. 

———————

Today was a normal day. Just some notes from classes here and there, mixed in with some quizzes. Nothing too much besides the huge pile of homework I have from my English class. I mean, I thought today would be an easy day of avoiding the heavy footsteps and people towering over us. Turns out it really wasn’t that easy. 

After a week of being here, you’d think I’d have everything down. No. The complete opposite really. You annoy the wrong person, then everything goes downhill from there. 

I sat at my usual corner table at lunch, trying to drown at the thundering voices from above and not mind that there were a group of people coming right over to me. Oh what the heck. All this time trying to avoid talking to people and all of a sudden these people want to… spike a conversation with me? It didn’t really look like it since they were all laughing. Or maybe they were just walking over to another friend o father is behind me? 

“You’re… Nathan, right? The kid who sits in the back of my physics class?” The kid with dirty blonde hair asked, flashing a friendly smile and holding out a hand. I looked between the hand and himself. I mean he looks nice, but something wasn’t clicking right. Why would he walk up to me now of all times? 

I shook his hand, retracting almost immediately as soon as he let go. 

“How about you come sit with us instead of sitting here all alone? You seem so lonely.” He had offered, pointing somewhere behind him. I looked for any sign of a trick or some kind of prank, but if this was he was hiding his true intentions pretty good. My eyes darted to the three people behind him, then to one specific person who looked a lot younger and was sneaking up behind the other three and shaking his head towards me. What? What was that supposed to mean? To not trust these people? I mean I don’t entirely believe whatever façade this guy was putting up either. 

I gave a nervous smile and shook my head, “Um… I-I’m okay.” 

The younger boy who was hinting to me that these guys were no good nodded and was starting to leave before the one who I really didn’t trust at all laughed and started pushing me to get up. 

“No really, I insist. You’ll have a blast!” He practically pushed me forward, hands around my shoulders and just guiding me through the place, going to the opposite side of the cafeteria. Also where the giants ate at. I knew something about this couldn’t be good. There was always a catch. 

I tried escaping many times, but he just kept of pushing me up into one of those elevators and almost immediately my nerves shot up. The anxiety was clouding up my mind. My heart was racing, my body was trembling, and what was worse was that my fate might be sealed here. I knew that it was whenever that elevator let out a ding sound. 

Everything in my world seemed to have stopped as so many sets of eyes were set right on me. My knees would have buckled underneath me had I not been practically shoved out of the elevator and right into the middle. Theirs stares felt like stabs through my back. I always felt anxious when people my height looked at me, it only makes sense that it would be worse when I had four other pairs of eyes that were giants on me. Great. Just great. I might as well die here. 

Whatever was being said behind me and above me was all muffled as I just stared blankly down at the table. Or more like a floor for me. I guess it didn’t matter when I heard laughs around me, only making my eyes tear up slightly. Of course something like this had to happen. Everything was going all too good for me. There was no way it would stay like that for forever. It never does. 

Then there was arguing, a slam on the table making me flinch and nearly run away had something not been holding my arm and trying to pull on me. I looked up, my eyes clear of any sign of tears, and seeing that same kid who had warned me about them. Speaking of, what was even going on? I looked back, seeing that one of the giants was covered in what looked like milk and whatever was for lunch and arguing to another person that was kind unclear to me at the moment. The other humans around were arguing along with them while I was being dragged away from it all. 

“Come on! While they’re not looking.” The kid who looked younger than me had ordered me. He still held onto my wrist as I trailed behind him, nearly tripped in some areas and not even questioning where we were going. He told me just to follow him, and I wasn’t going to question it since he seemed to know what he was doing. 

The arguing had stopped, and when that did, we stopped as well. There were multiple eyes trained on the argument that had just concluded, and I finally found out who had apparently started it. The guy from last period. The one I’m forced to sit with. What caught me off guard was how his hand laid down flat, palm up by the edge of the table like he was waiting fro something while his attention was focused on trying to convince the others that it was an accident. What was an accident again? 

I gulped, trying to walk away from his hand, only for the younger kid to drag us on and then, what’s his name again? Ryker? Rykers hand had started moving again, making me nearly vomit. Oh heck. I was doing this again, huh? Led into another trap? I tried looking for a way out, but the only way out was just a huge drop that would kill me. 

“Again, so sorry…” And the hand moved again, making me trip and fall face first into the fleshy surface. So did the kid with me. But he just stuck his tongue out at Ryker, who was currently cupping his hand to make it look like he wasn’t carrying anyone. I guess it worked since he wasn’t stopped by anyone. But that did not stop my body from trembling violently.

“Hey… um, are you good? You look like your having a panic attack.” The younger kid asked, helping me back up, but I just fell right back onto my butt. Panic attack? No. Just everything in my body was trying to make me run, but I couldn’t. If I did, I would just walk right into my death. My nerves and anxiety was all over the place, body trembling violently, and heart beating fast all over again. Yet, this time, I was still aware of everything that was happening all around me. 

It was only a few seconds later when Ryker had stopped moving, and we weren’t in the cafeteria anymore. Just in the hallway right outside. But please tell me I was not about to be kidnapped or something. But, against all odds, the opposite happened. I was slid off of his hands and by the human doors that led the cafeteria. 

I braved looking up, only seeing that same nervous smile as the first day we had met. I stood up, looking for the other kid, finding him crossing his arms and giving a glare to Ryker, who rolled his eyes and sighed, “What’d I do wrong this time?” Unlike the usually loud voices, his was soft. 

“You could’ve at least been a little more gentle while moving.” He stuck his tongue out, earning yet another set of rolled eyes. 

“Sorry,” His attention was diverted to me, giving a confused look then surprised, “It’s Nathan, right?” 

I jumped at the mention of my name. So he recognized me? I was really hoping he didn’t. There was no way I could speak if I couldn’t even move by myself. What do I do? The only door nearby led to the cafeteria, and I still needed to grab my bag. But if I stayed, he’d expect me to answer and actually talk, which was one of the many things I wouldn’t do at the moment. My head felt dizzy again, and my anxiety was building up. 

Ryker gave me a confused face before giving a look to whoever the other younger guy was, who just shrugged his shoulders and walked over towards me. 

“Hey… are you okay? Seriously. We’ll take you to the nurse of you’re not feeling good.” He had offered, and just as soon as Ryker had made a single movement, I dashed out of there, into the cafeteria, and out another door that took me the long way back to my class. 

————————

Why did I react that way during lunch? I had no idea. Why was I dreading the end of the day? Well because I’d have to actually face Ryker again, and I’d have to explain what I was even thinking. I mean, what kind of person doesn’t thank someone for practically saving their life? Me. I don’t. But otherwise, I still wasn’t sure how I’d handle last period. I’m pretty sure he’s going to ask me about it. Even if he’s made no attempt to talk to me at all for the entire week. 

And even being terrified for my life, I still dragged myself into that terrible classroom. Finding that everything was moving in slow motion. I could hear my heart beat, the way people were laughing in the back of the classroom, every tremor in the ground as a giant took a step. And then the desk I had feared all along. The one where Ryker was just sitting down, doing whatever with his journal as always. I never looked back, seeing as he would be annoyed if I did. Now I’m too scared to even take that stupid elevator up. To scared to take even one more step closer. 

The only thing that had me moving again was the sound of the bell that marked one minutes to get to class. I rushed into the elevator, my hand hovering over the button that makes it go up. I could just hide in the bathroom. Most people do that anyways. But what if he’s already seen me? Plus, my mom would be wondering why. She already thinks I’m getting used to it here, and I couldn’t risk seeing her feel so heartbroken after my lies. 

So, I did the only thing I could. Press the button and wait for that dreadful ding that motioned for me to get out. It felt like the longest five seconds of my life. There was nothing I could do though. I couldn’t just give up now when I was already up there. If he didn’t know I was there then, he knows I am now. 

The elevator reached the top, and I could render was the stabbing feeling of having a pair of eyes on me. I always hated having any kind of attention on me. Or maybe that wasn’t the word for it. 

I took a deep breath, hoping nothing could go wrong, and then took my first step, then another, and another, hiding my face as I kept going along, and eventually the stabbing feeling of eyes on me disappeared, letting me hurry to my seat and bury my head in my arms. This is bad. who thought I could do this? What made anyone I was ready to do any of this? What if I was just annoying him? What if- 

The teachers loud voice interrupted my thoughts, “These next two weeks I’d like to have a little fun! I want you and your partner to discuss anything interesting about yourselves, or if you have any special interests. I’ll tell you what to do after ten minutes.” 

My heart quite literally shattered. What. The. Hell. This day couldn’t get any worse. Because as soon as the teacher dismissed us, the classroom was full of squeamish conversations and laughs, while I couldn’t even turn around. I knew Ryker was looking at me too since he was just annoyed with me at this point. I wouldn’t be surprised if he would’ve just stood up and left. 

And instead of getting yelled at like I thought I would, he showed me a piece of paper. Brought up all the way up to me, and written, I was guessing as small as he could, small enough to fit on the piece he ripped off. 

‘It is Nathan, right?’ 

I worked up the urge to turn around slightly, seeing a thoughtful smile plastered over his face. Was this acting? He was supposed to be annoyed with me, not being friendly. This was crazy. I looked away before he could see me, digging my head deeper into my arms. Why was I even put into this class? Why couldn’t I have just stayed at the hospital? They could have taught me the same thing just without so much interactions. It’s my last year of high school so I really don’t see the point. 

Seven minutes had gone by without a single word. No other attempt to communicate, nor did he even so much as make any kind of noise. It kind of felt quiet all around me despite the many conversations just barely picking up. I just don’t see myself trusting someone who could very well be just like the others. 

“And how are you two doing?” The teacher cheered, and I couldn’t help myself from picturing her smiling awkwardly as she saw how both us hadn’t even as much spoken one word to each other. 

“I don’t want to force him…” Ryker had mumbled softly, sounding a bit sad. How much I would give to say sorry. At least give him some kind of an apology! He’s the one giving an effort meanwhile you’re making things harder for him. And that spun into even more horrible thoughts. I was really just going to make him fail this class. I would be the cause for him getting yelled at or whatever else happens. He probably just wants me to get this over with so we could eventually never talk again. 

“Hmmm. How about you both see me after class? It’s nothing bad, I promise.” Mrs. Kay had finished, smiling and walking off to the front of the class. My body only started shaking even more violently. I can’t do this. Why. Why did this have to happen to me? There was no reason for all of this. Just leave me the broken way I was. Get Ryker a new partner so he doesn’t have to be annoyed with some broken human. 

Something had touched my back. Oddly soft, but still, I jumped and almost tripped over the desk to stand up and face away from the touch. Ryker’s hand stayed frozen in shock as his eyes had wide dead at my very dramatic reaction. But, now, I was standing up and facing him. Not an ideal situation. 

“Er… sorry.” He had apologized, stuffing his hand back underneath the desk. He gave an unsure look before letting out a sigh, “Should we start over? I’m Ryker.” He didn’t offer a hand thankfully, because I honestly thought if he did I would just run straight off the desk. Honestly that didn’t sound like too bad of an idea. Although, now I think I actually need to reply back to him. I can’t just keep ignoring him for the third time in a row. 

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Of course nothing did. So the next best thing was just to nod to a previous question he had asked nearly ten minutes ago and hope he knows why. 

At first, he gave a confused look. But I guess he had finally realized since he was smiling now, “Sorry about what happened during lunch. Lucky said to help out, and I can’t really say no to him.” He laughed nervously, a hand behind his head and trying to convince my hot-wired mind to even make so much as a gesture towards him. But at least now I knew who to thank for helping me out in that situation. Of course Ryker too but maybe I could just this Lucky guy to thank him for me. 

“Ten minutes is up! Now time for the actual fun,” She was passing out a paper to everyone in the class, and gave a sad smile directed towards me as she gave the paper to Ryker, who stared at it like it would haunt his nightmares. My heart started beating faster in my chest as he read the paper, eyes darting to me from time time. This was a Human and Giants Interactions and current events class. Which meant it had something to do with some kind of interaction. Again, I was the worst person to be placed in this class. 

“As you can see, this is a project for you and your partner. I’ve already made arrangements to twist the humans classes to match up with your partners. This is your first project in this class, and your schedules will stay like this for two weeks starting tomorrow.” My knees nearly buckled underneath me. That was a bit drastic. I didn’t know they could do that. Could they? Still, I didn’t particularly like the idea that I’d have to be taken to all of Rykers classes. Especially when I had finally grown used to mine. It was still early in the school year too. I didn’t think she would have a project this early. 

“Your giant partner is responsible for taking you everywhere unless you can get somewhere without them. While your human partner is going to trust you with everything until the school day ends. Think of this like a test exercise! Just a very long one.” Mrs. Kay giggled, waving us off to talk once again. Of course this would be the first project. Barely anyone knows each other in this class so it would be some sort of dramatic trust exercise. Seemed more like a death sentence to me though. Where I’m being forced to trust someone who defiantly hated this project just as much as I did. 

The room was full of  bright conversations again. While we were sitting there in silence. Ryker had stuffed the paper in his bag and looked at me. Through my eyes, I saw a terrifying grin, making me jump and fall on the floor, bringing my knees close to my chest and my arms in front of my face. Pathetic? Yes. Do I think making myself look even smaller helps the situation? Yes. Why? Because I can’t think clearly when I’m terrified. 

After a while, I was calmed down enough to somewhat get out of the little ball I made myself. Ryker kept worried face as he finished reading whatever book he was, and I couldn’t help but notice that there were some people who looked over here and laughed. At Ryker? Why? Did I make them laugh at him? And yet another thing to feel guilty about. 

The bell rang, but neither Ryker or I moved, already fearing what was about to be said to the both of us. I guess I’ll miss the bus today, but I could always walk. 

“Now, about you two,” She walked over to us, “I’m sorry Nathan, honey, I bet they haven’t told you that I know about your… past recollections, but this class is supposed to help humans and giants get along together, and Ryker here is sweetest person you’ll ever meet. You’ve both lost someone and something dear, and I decided that you two would be perfect to pair up with. So, I have a secret project for you both,” She smiled softly, “Don’t worry, there’s no due date, and it’s not a grade. I just want you two get along. Become friends and get to know one another. Maybe you’ll help out each other. Just give it a try.” 

Ryker looked at me, curiously, and sympathetically. What did that mean? Doesn’t matter. I was only focused on this “secret project” we were supposed to do. Do I really have to trust him? I’ve run out of that a long time ago and I’m not about to start placing whatever was left in a stranger who probably is just faking being nice. But I guess I had no choice. 

I hesitantly nodded, followed by Ryker who was waiting for my response. 

And I guess here starts a terrible outcome of events. One I dreaded to even be part of. 

—————————

Second chapter done. I did not take the time to even edit any of this, so I’m sorry if there are some mistakes. Otherwise, hope you enjoyed!

I plan on doing a chapter once a week and if not, then every other week.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Assassin Rescues Prisoner from Target's house part 4

TW: blood, intense torture, recovery, pain, death, assassination, severe whump, etc.

FLASHBACK:::

Jax was out on a job, working alongside his apprentice, Kieran. His flippant, reckless, and only companion. Jax always feared that his carelessness would get him killed one day... and that's exactly what happened. His apprentice and him had been tracking an elusive target for several days, a corrupt politician, and finally believed they had cornered them. But it turned out to be a trap.

They were slinking soundlessly through the city streets, no more than twin shadows in the night, cloaked in darkness, their greatest ally. Their target had fled there to hide. But the two of them made a great team, and were the best hunters in existence. No one could ever escape them. The two of them moved with predatory grace and silent stealth as they navigated their way through the streets undetected. Invisible to the world.

They came upon a large building with lights out, and split up to case it, meeting back in front.

"All clear," Kieran whispered, his voice no more than a quiet breath of air. "No guards posted."

That alone set off dozens of red flags for Jax. Too easy. His sense for danger was going off like crazy. "Stay vigilant," he warned, turning to face Kieran... only to find him already in motion.

That blasted kid--- Jax cursed silently to himself, and lunged forward to intercept his eager apprentice as he darted toward the building, taking a running leap at it.

"Kieran!" he hissed urgently, reaching out a hand to stop him.

With ninja-like agility, Kieran dodged him and sprung up to grab a high windowsill, pulling himself up so that he perched there like a cat on the ledge. He stared down at Jax with a mischievous smirk.

"Come on old man," he teased good-naturedly. "Learn to live a little." Kieran pried open the window and slipped inside the building without hesitation. Jax felt a wave of frustrated anger wash over him. Why couldn't that kid ever listen to his wisdom? Rolling his eyes with exasperation, he calculated the distance and made the jump himself, easily heaving himself through the window into the dark building.

"Something's not right," Jax growled quietly, as he caught up with Kieran's silent shadow in a dark hall. But Kieran kept on moving, tossing him a troublesome grin that was visible in the dark only by the flash of white teeth, followed by a wink.

"Something's always wrong when it comes to you," he breathed an airy laugh. "Relax, we'll be fine. We always are."

"Just because we are winning does not mean we have won," Jax said pointedly. "Your cockiness in the face of danger worries me. Have you no sense of caution?"

"Thou speaketh wise words," Kieran teased, amused. "But alas, we are on a mission that cannot wait."

"I think we should wait for reinforcements to arrive," Jax suggested, specifically referring to the only other ally he had, a female ninja assassin by the name of Ella.

"Pfft, don't be such a worrier. Since when have we ever needed backup? The more people who get involved, the more divided the reward amongst them. I'm not sharing my prize with anyone but you," Kieran said stubbornly.

Jax trailed uneasily after his apprentice as they walked further into the building. But then, they reached the center of it, emerging into a large room, and that's when all chaos was let loose.

All the lights turned on at once, chasing away the darkness they were using for cover. They had been expected. A group of five men armed with knives and guns came jumping out of hiding to surround them.

"It's a trap!" Jax shouted with realization. He drew his dagger in a heartbeat, fanning out a handful of throwing knives in his free hand that he sent whizzing through the air with deadly accuracy. "Believe me now, Kieran?" He snapped, voice coming out in a snarl.

They stood back-to-back as danger closed in from all sides in the giant room, taking on the opponents that outnumbered them. But Jax and Kieran were the best fighters out there, and they held their own well, tearing through the group with deadly precision, Jax taking on three, and Kieran battling with the remaining two. Their movements were fluid and perfectly in-sync, covering each other's blindspots.

Soon all the guards lay strewn across the floor in varying states of consciousness, moans of pain ringing through the air. Jax surveyed the carnage, panting hard from exertion, before something hard and solid suddenly slammed into him, sending him staggering to the side.

"WATCH OUT!" A warning shouted before a sharp cry of pain followed. Jax whirled around to see Kieran clutching his chest... where red spilled out the front of his black suit from a hole in his chest, having taken the bullet that had been meant for his mentor.

Kieran's eyes were wide with shock as he touched his chest, staring numbly at the hand that came away smeared with blood.

"Uh... J-Jax?" He said, his voice shaky with fear. His gaze flicked up to meet his mentor's, and then... he crumpled to the floor, spitting blood that filled his lungs.

Jax immediately spotted the man that had fired the shot, the politician himself standing in the doorway they'd come through, and sent a throwing knife whistling his way, quickly dispatching him before dropping down next to his apprentice, putting pressure on the wound with one hand while ripping off a piece of his cloak to wrap around it. He needed to get Kieran to a medic, fast. Or Ella. She would know how to save him.

"What were you thinking?! WERE you even thinking?" Jax barked, a little harsher than he meant it.

Kieran offered a shaky smile, despite the situation. "Hey... someone has to watch your back... right?" He coughed, blood beading in the corners of his mouth.

"How can you still be making jokes right now?!" Jax snapped angrily, frustration spiking.

Kieran's smile wobbled, and fell away. "I figured it would... kff... ease your conscience a little... make it easier for you--"

"--Don't talk like that," Jax sharply cut him off, voice catching in his throat. "Don't even go there. You're going to be fine, there's still time to save you--"

"I think we both know that's not true," Kieran wheezed weakly, fixing Jax with a knowing gaze. "You were right... I should've... listened to you... and now... I'm simply paying the price... for my mistake... it's not your fault... I'm so reckless..."

"No, you can't leave me here alone. I won't allow it," Jax growled firmly, but couldn't help the rising panic that seeped into his voice, destroying the last few threads of his usual stoic composure.

Kieran's eyes glittered, a trembling smile warping his lips, still full of that inner fire. "Fight the good fight... old man... for both of us..." a gurgling cough escaped him... and then his body shuddered once, before going limp with a raspy breath, eyes rolling back.

Jax was in total shock, staring down at Kieran in utter disbelief. Part of him expected Kieran to open his eyes again, say it was just a funny prank to pull on him. A minute passed. Then another. Still nothing.

"Come on kid... please don't do this to me--" Jax's voice cracked helplessly as he stared down at the lifeless form in his lap, scarlet blood snaking from his chest and mouth, staining the marbled floor red. His vision blurred, the world spinning.

"Kieran... you have to come back... you always... come back..." But something told him this time was different. Jax's face twisted with anguish and grief, horrified and now more alone than ever before. Something permanently broke inside him, his soul shattering into a thousand razor-sharp pieces. His apprentice... the boy who had cheated death alongside him so many times... gone, just like that. All in an instant. Forever.

He held Kieran close and let his mask fall apart completely, body-racking sobs soon overtaking him as he mourned. He had thought he'd prepared himself for such possibilities, being the tough fighter he was--knowing every mission could be the last for either of them--but he hadn't expected this.

"You did so well," Jax whispered as he kissed his forehead, hugging him tighter. He wished he'd said it more often during their intense sparring and training sessions. "I'm so, so proud of you, kid--more than you'll ever know. I am honored to have... to have been your friend."

An anguished wail tore loose from him, roaring his rage to the world, his pain and anger. He'd failed his apprentice. He should have seen the politician coming-- should've anticipated-- maybe he could have stopped them-- he bowed his head low, shutting out the guilt.

Jax slowly rose to trembling feet, pulling Kieran up with him, and slung his limp body over a shoulder with so much care and gentleness as he escaped the wretched building. He could hear sirens in the distance, no doubt police had been called after hearing gunshots.

He slipped into the familiar, welcoming darkness of the alleyways, making his way back to his underground hideout, his feet heavy as stone with each step, grief shredding him apart from the inside out as he felt Kieran's still-warm blood slide down his skin, soaking through his cloak. Gone. His closest friend, his apprentice and companion, was gone.

From that day on he resolved never to let anyone get close again, lest he experience the pain of losing them again. He worked all his jobs alone, risking his life and his alone.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

[mrhowells]

Smallville 4x16

*this episode put me through it, also the character building for Lois is perfection (also, if you see any typos just close your eyes, it was late and I was emotional)*

Clark looks so suspicious😭😭 Jonathan too, the way he's eyeing that food lmaooooo

Please😭

"I'm willing to sleep in the barn." "No that's okay, Lois can sleep in the barn." LOL Clark

sass levels through the roof today for him

Look at how proud Lois is listing all of Lucy's achievements😭 She's the best wtf I love her

"Wow, that's impressive. What happened to Lois?"

He has the time of his life dragging her PLS

"You're gonna find that Clark's charm is an acquired taste, much like his sense of fashion." he had that coming

Lois said TRY ME BISH

pls even Lucy is noticing the tension😭

she wasn't playing with that shoulder punch💀

Yeah, Jason is not letting those stones go💀

I really feel for Lana, I feel like she just lives in constant fear bc there's always some weird shit happening around her

Lucy flirting with Clark, just pls no💀

"Lois I don't want you to get the wrong idea, but ever since Lucy came to town you've been grumpier than normal."

I love this whole conversation between them🥹

Also Clark making it so obvious he's an only child from a loving family, bless him

"You might be a little rough around the edges but as far as sisters go, Lucy could do a lot worse." EXACTLY

anyone who has Lois in their life won the lottery, not even an exaggeration she's the absolute best🤷🏻‍♀️

"I guess there was just a part of me that was always jealous she got out and I didn't."

LOIS BBY LET ME HUG YOU LET ME LOVE YOU

the way she's like 'oh fuck I was vulnerable, gotta blast🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️', same Lois, same

Clark looks so worried too😭

this is so wholesome🥹

I think those electric shocks left him with some permanent damage because Jason seems obsessed now👀

Okay let me rephrase, he doesn't just seem obsessed, he's completely unhinged. They fried his brain🤡

Clark is in disappointed dad mode again, he's so natural at it too😭

"You're not mom alright, so stop trying to be." That hurt me personally, goddamn

LMAOOOOO

also, is this the first episode where we see Lex and Lois in the same frame?👀

Lucy you snake

LOIS DON'T YOU EVER SAY OR THINK THAT

To everyone who contributed to her feeling this way, I just want to have a talk

This is breaking my heart, the world doesn't deserve her😭😭

Their dad really failed at parenting HARD

no because this hurts fr, I want to hug her so bad

she deserves to know that she's wanted and loved, SOMEBODY TELL HER

I can't get over the fact that she thinks that her life is less important than that of her sister

Clark defending Lois is something that can be so personal😭 (She deserves a good support system and friends who have her back idc)

I'm getting very emotional about this excuse me

You know I love a character when I need everyone else to love them too. Like I need every other character on this show to appreciate how amazing Lois is.

"I'm a product of my father's breeding. He needed an heir. But your parents chose you out of love."

No because that's so important and I think it explains why both Lex and Lois are so (for the lack of a better word) fascinated with the Kents.

(ok I paused the episode and wrote like 4 paragraphs of character analysis prompted by that quote but idk what to do with them and if they make any sense, maybe I'll make a separate post🤡)

I need you guys to understand how much it means to me that he really cares about Lois😭

Not even in any sort of romantic context, just that someone genuinely cares if she's okay or not because she's obviously never really had someone take care of her😭😭😭

I mean listen, good for Lionel that he's not an absolute monster anymore but he really needs to stay out of Lex's business💀💀

WAIT A MINUTE HOLD ON.

HOLD ONNNNNN

Did Lana vandalize her own apartment? Or did she just hide the stone and whoever searched for it didn't find it? In any case she's learning how to play the game, good for her😌😌

Okay, first of all: More reasons to love Lois, she's self-aware and she can admit when she's wrong about something. Seriously I love her.

Second: Again, they way she's ready to be kicked out of the farm for something that wasn't even her fault??? MR. SAM LANE, SAMMY, GENERAL LANE, I'D LIKE TO HAVE SOME WORDS WITH YOU. Seriously though, this speaks volumes about how she grew up and it breaks my heart.

Third: The way she tries to be so casual and 'Lois' when she says it, I have very similar defense mechanisms and again, it hurts my heart.

"Yeah... actually I came here to tell you we have food in the oven if you're hungry."

Lois learning what unconditional love looks like through the Kent family is the only thing that matters to me, actually

"You know, all these years I thought I had my sister pegged but... in reality? She's a complete stranger to me." "Even if that were true, I think that if she called you tomorrow you'd be there in a second to help her."

I CAN'T DO THIS RIGHT NOW, HE DOES KNOW HER😭

SHE KNOWS HIM TOO😭😭

"I guess that explains why we're friends." "Oh, we're friends now?" "Well, I mean, I won't tell anyone if you don't."

Yes you are and I'm so glad bc you're the most amazing people to ever exist😭

Clark deserves someone like Lois in his life and Lois deserves someone like Clark in her life, yes I'm on the verge of tears AND WHAT ABOUT IT

CHEMISTRYYYYY

shoulder punch my beloved🥹

CHEMISTRYYYYYY

do you think these people knew they just created perfection?😭

🎶now it all begins🎶

written in the stars and all that, I love my OTP

More importantly though, I love Lois Lane she's everything and she deserves all the love in the world.

[aquadestinyswriting]

For https://www.tumblr.com/aquadestinyswriting/743860231901249536/fanfic-writers-directors-cut?source=share

⭐stars⭐

~@duckingwriting

Hey thanks for the ask.

I have a bunch of WIPs on the go at the moment, but the one I'm dying to talk about most right now is probably one I'm still outlining.

I've made no secret that my writing is based on an old D&D campaign and the WIP I'm outlining is based on events that took place in it. It's the one about the attempted assassination/kidnapping at the Plot Hook, during drinks to celebrate the genesis of what will later become known as the Special Recondite Unit (or SRU). I've been having a lot of thoughts about what Selene's thoughts were at the time, because in the actual session she was seemingly quite calm about the whole thing and really only started getting upset when she was essentially placed under house arrest for her own safety.

Having listened back to the recording though, I'm starting to realise that Selene was utterly terrified the whole time. It's not the first time there's been an attempt on her life; she made a lot of enemies that she wasn't allowed to track down and take care of once she became the Grand Magus of Toreguarde. However, the fact that they're not just after her, but Elowyn (her adopted niece) as well... That's not on.

There's also the little issue that due to having had a case of Burnout not that long ago in the timeline, Selene can still cast her most powerful spells, but that comes at the cost of causing herself quite a bit of pain while doing so right now (something I only recently decided would be a thing, so as far as the game canon goes, she just does a remarkable job of hiding it until she's alone).

So, picture this: you're an extremely powerful wizard who is terrified for her own life and that of the only family you currently have left (because almost everyone else either up and left and/or died, and your partner's not due back for another 2-3 days). You can't just fireball the assassins to death like you want to because that would probably destroy the pub and catch your niece and her friends in the blast as well, so you use a couple of utility spells to help instead. Besides, your niece and her friends are winning anyway, so no big deal. Unfortunately you have to cast a Dominate Person because the lead assassin is being an ass and not giving up despite losing. It takes, things calm down and you help to get all the bad guys down to the nearest police station using a Teleport spell. Casting at least two or three high level spells, which shouldn't be a huge deal considering how powerful a wizard you are, has left you feeling very tired, a little ill and with extremely sore fingers. You are doing your very best to not outwardly show any of this to avoid worrying anyone, especially your niece. Then you realise that said niece, who's life you probably saved with that Dominate spell, is pissed at you for using it. Then she has the gall to unilaterally decide that, for your own safety, you need to be confined to your office for an indeterminate amount of time with eyes on you at all times despite her also being included in the contracts the assassins had to kill you both... Well, one included your death and the Domination of your niece; presumably so the bad guys could use her to kill you if the assassins didn't manage it, which, frankly, is way worse, and probably gives you ptsd flashbacks to a very similar situation that happened a couple of years prior.

Given all of the above, I think Selene's a little entitled to lose her rag a bit. However, she manages to shove her anger, fear, pain etc way, way down and complies. But not before getting into Elowyn's face and outright dead-naming her while telling her the two of them will have 'a little chat' later. Then she Teleports out because Gods forbid she lets on about having issues casting by *le gasp* walking back to her office.

Needless to say, this is one of those WIPs that is at once going to be a tonne of fun to write, but so damn stressful at the same time. D&D; giving both players and the GMs trauma and strong feelings* about fictional arguments and scenarios for 60 years!

*Only if the GM and players get extremely invested in the world and characters, which we did.

[hoarding-niffler]

Thanks, I really appreciate it. I'll try leaving politics out. I really have nowhere else on the internet to socialize anymore since breaking from tumblr, and rn in my life situation the only chance I have of making friends is online. Sorry this is so long, I hope this much text isn't off-putting. In any case I appreciate seeing bloggers like you who keep on enjoying the game and hp universe despite all of this.

I'm nonbinary, nonwhite, studying to convert to Judaism, and I've been obsessed with hogwarts since I read the books as a child. I can't not interact with this world I love so much, not just as an escape to real life. I'm autistic and had a bad childhood and the books were the only thing that helped me deal, and now I mainly interact via fanfiction that essentially 'fixes' things from the books, and watch the movies. At this point I feel I can't live without the HP universe in my life, it is a core part of me. It bothers me that people in my own communities would essentially cast me out, because I play the game and have wanted something like this since I was a kid, that I'd be considered a bad person and cut off from necessary support. As if being accused of bigotry and hurt feelings is the only consequence I could face.

I already deal with a mild fear that toxic ex friends from on here will find my new blog, because of the way they went about ending our friendship. I'm afraid if they find my blog, which is loosely connected through a few old friends, they'll see it and put me on blast/ screenshot my blog/ talk about me with their friends like they used to. Like I used to (which I regret) because that's behavior that people in my 'community' encouraged when someone 'needed calling out' even if it was a mistake, or a well intentioned attempt at conversing and understanding someone else's pov to learn. I'm afraid to post screenshots on my main, or attach my HL sideblog to my main, in case it gets me hateful interactions which I have no heart to deal with anymore. It seems like hating this game and anyone who plays it is the stance of the majority of online LGBT spaces rn. I don't wanna hide it, but also need support from online spaces. I even feel bad playing and haven't gotten very far because this has all cast a negative feeling on the game for me.

I'm so sorry you're struggling with this and it honestly shouldn't be like that, but I'm well aware that things are nearly never black and white. There's a whole lot of grey in the world and most people do not know how to deal with it. That's how you get bullies, haters, scapegoats, and the list goes on.

I did not grow up with the books but I did grow up with the movies and I rewatch them regularly. I also love to read tons of fix-it fanfics (my favourite character is snape, of course, I need alternate universe fics where he survives lmao). I feel like most people hate so much on others enjoying the world of Harry Potter and therefore now Hogwarts Legacy because they are notoriously online and forgot what life is like in the real world. Things are not as simple as "Oh, you play this? Then you're EVIL". A lot of times, just like in your case, franchises give us support and strength, because life is fucking hard sometimes. Most times. Especially as a minority, I can't even imagine what fears you must face. And instead of realising that NOTHING we consume is pure and that people should look closer whether a person uses a franchise to gain strength from it or to spread hate, people rather point with their fingers and gatekeep their own communities, not realising how much damage they do on a broader scale. It's not only the people they keep out, it's also the people who listen in on this infighting and either get turned off from ever engaging with those communities (in positive ways) or the wrong people use exactly that to fuel their own hateful agendas. It's damaging all around, all because people prefer to take the easy route and accuse rather than discuss and understand.

Honestly, I get why you in your specific situation can't really say "fuck it" and ignore any possible consequences but I also think you shouldn't deprive yourself of what brings you genuine enjoyment. My suggestion would be to create a completely new main Tumblr blog with a second mail address and then a sideblog for your HP needs. And considering how you can look through the Hogwarts Legacy tag and finds SO MANY active players and defenders of the game who are, at the same time, completely against JK Terfling's insane views, shows that you can have your cake and eat it too. So far I experienced this community as very supportive and you just block everyone who gets aggressive. It makes your online experience so much more enjoyable, believe me.

You will not be able to stop people from talking about you. But you can stop it from affecting you as much as it does and seek out people who wouldn't do that to you in the first place.

Man, this got long and rambly and I don't know if anything of what I wrote makes sense BUT

you're always welcome in my asks and I bet the same goes for other Hogwarts Legacy fans on here. We got each other's back.

[washipink]

Kamen Rider Ghost and the Power of Silence

I just watched what I think might be my favorite episode of Kamen Rider Ghost thus far. The sixth episode, “Destiny! The Comeback Melody!”, uses its medium well and plays with the features of an average Kamen Rider episode in such a delightful way I felt it needed its own post.

First, here’s a brief explanation of what’s going on for those of us that haven’t seen the show. Takeru Tenkuuji is killed by a ghost on his 18th Birthday and now must become the titular Kamen Rider Ghost collect the spirits of past heroes to revive himself or risk being dead forever if he can’t do it in 99 days. It’s going pretty smoothly until Kamen Rider Specter enters the scene. Specter is also after these heroic spirits and has been beating Takeru to a pulp the past 3 episodes, causing his resolve to waver.

Anyway, this episode marks roughly the halfway point in Takeru’s time limit and Specter has been actively setting him back by stealing spirits from him. He’s pretty distraught about the whole deal.

Earlier in the series, it was established that whether or not a ghost can be seen is tied to their emotional state. With the amount of self-doubt he’s experiencing, it is literally impossible for Takeru to manifest before any of his loved ones. He spends the majority of this episode invisible to those who wish to help him most.

What does this have to do with silence, you might ask? This week’s ghost hunt involves a spirit who silences noise. There’s some really effective scenes where noisy high school courtyards are muted entirely. Conversations are silenced, replaced only with the sound of a lone piano. Stuff like that. That’s artsy enough on its own. Everyone has talked about this kind of thing before. What really matters to me are the fights in this episode.

Normally, a Kamen Rider’s transformation comes with a lot of fanfare. Music, a catchy jingle, sound effects. That’s not the case for Takeru in this episode. He attempts to stand up to the evil spirit in complete and utter silence. From a Watsonian perspective, this is simply “The power this week’s monster has” but, through a doylist lens, this is simply an extension of Takeru having lost himself and his resolve to fight. First, he could not be seen. But now? He cannot be heard. There’s not even any background music or sound effects. Only the taunting of an enemy Takeru is failing to defeat.

Sound returns to the scene when Takeru gets blasted by his enemy’s attack. One nice touch is that the bgm doesn’t start from the beginning. It plays as if it WAS playing on mute this whole time. The sound being turned up when it was leads to a bit that furthers my reading of the scene. Seconds after, Kamen Rider Specter arrives. And HIS transformation has the full fanfare, his whole jingle and everything. Specter knows who he is, knows what he’s fighting for, and is not going to half-ass his mission. He’s not like Takeru. In fact, he beats Takeru’s ass once again here. This causes Takeru to disappear again and run away.

Throughout the episode, Takeru is spending a lot of time on his own, hiding, being downright scared of Specter and of the fact that his time is almost up.

Eventually, through some very meaningful words from his childhood friend, Takeru realizes that even if he’s going to be gone for good one day, he’s here NOW and that’s what matters. He’s gained the confidence to make himself visible again and he STAYS that way until the end of the episode. Not only is he never silenced again, but in the following scene he makes an ally of Beethoven’s spirit and uses sound to his advantage in battle. The silence of the first act is gone now that he’s found himself.

Come to think of it, there’s something special about how, in Ghost, the Fear of Death makes someone harder to reach than the actual Death itself. Takeru HAS already died once this season and that didn’t stop him. But being afraid of losing what time he has left caused him to vanish, completely unheard...

[flick1224]

Wow

Guess who just made an incredible breakthrough just this second

Today was a good day, I got to speak to my friend again and miraculously, I wasn't shaking with anxiety over the call like has been the case every last time in the past. Which is also its own breakthrough.

This year has really shifted our friendship and made it a lot stronger than it ever has been, I feel. Which I really adore. I did my damndest to ruin this friendship in the past when I was going insane; I don't want to lose it again; I really cherish it.

I feel very little about my ex now, but if anything, I should be pissed at him for causing me to break off a friendship I should have been nurturing.

Shoulda, coulda, woulda, though. I'm happy we're where we are now. And I mentioned it before to him that whenever I get to move out into the middle of nowhere and live away from other people, I will live in isolation and silence...except for my friendship with him. I really value it, and having it this year has shown me even more happiness than what my life has already started to introduce to me.

Being able to get on a call with him and not have a panic attack I'm desperately trying to hide has really opened my eyes to this shit. I used to truly struggle with the fact that I didn't trust the one person I spoke to when it was just my ex. I thought I was broken and severely flawed in every social aspect. But in reality, I'm completely capable of trusting people! I trust the hek out of my friend, and I actually always have. I hate that dipshit made me hesitate to verbalize that.

Is this...how friendships are for other people? Is this how its supposed to feel to have an honest to goodness 100% pure genu-ine friend?

It's a new feeling.

I really love it.

I see why he's so friendship-driven now, it's starting to make a lot of sense, how he loves his friends with a powerful and unwavering affection that's just grabbed onto ya!

So that's my breakthrough.

I may absolutely detest being around people and want to get away, but god damn having a friend has been so incredible and fulfilling. I adore this man; I hope we stay friends until we're old as hell.

Someday in the future, we're sitting at our futuristic computers, trying to get them to work and going

"Yeah, and this character does this!" "What was that? Speak up a bit, my hearing ain't what it used to be, boi." "Ah, I SAID-"

Talkin about Neko's son or something. Wonder what Flick'll be up to by then...

I've begun to really appreciate change in general. Perhaps someday, I'll even feel like meeting in person wouldn't be odd. I've been against the idea because I figured it would be immensely awkward; although I know we would have a blast after we get over that, but I feared it would somehow ruin it. In some weird way, like it'll just...shift it. And maybe that would be okay, but at this time, I just wouldn't be prepared to take that slight risk. But the knowledge of how fun it would be to hang out is tempting.

I'm working on this.

I'm really, really happy to have a friend I trust and feel comfortable talking to. I like that I'm experiencing the feelings he has about his friendships, it's pretty incredible.

I wanna laugh at myself and dismiss this as "you're high" or something, but I've already acknowledged that when I sit alone for a couple of hours, I start to become my most genuine self. Thus, we have this vomiting of emotions here...

I'm really excited about the future.

Always remember that no matter what it may bring, it'll be good, and you can accomplish anything you want to, Flick. If the day ever comes that you two aren't friends in whatever way for whatever reason, just remember that it's okay. It sucks, but it's okay. As of today, I've gotten so much joy over having this fucker around that nothing can spoil that. You can't focus on what happiness would have been; you ought to focus on the happiness that already was; that's what you can actually hold onto.

If you can still have fond memories with Dipshit, you can absolutely keep a firm hold on these that flash through my head now.

Of course, if you've managed to hang onto this lovable jackwagon, maybe you can send him this. If he needs it, or if you just want to be sappy for a mo. Go for it. Always make sure your friend knows you value him and his friendship!! >:D

[letoiledechue]

I can't forget, I can't forgive you…

An excuse to deep dive the trauma around Sirius being disowned and that wound being something that hasn’t closed due to poor coping mechanisms. Will gladly take an excuse to hash out how relationships were up until being disowned. Dynamics after the disownment and present are another I'll happily chat about. He’s essentially faking it until he makes it and hiding behind forced smiles/pleasantries with the majority of the community that left him behind. Using drinking as an excuse to forget about it/avoid unpacking the damage that was and is still being done.

'Cause now I'm scared that everyone I love will leave me…

One of the deepest darkest fears for Sirius. Sixteen years of family tolerating him then getting rid of him and seeming perfectly fine with pretending he didn’t exist has him terrified of losing the family he has found. An excuse to explore this would be interesting. I wouldn’t call him clingy but there is definitely a fear of friends growing bored of his antics and disposing of him similarly to how his family did. Whether this is over apologizing from saying something wrong or over reading into someone he’s close to’s behavior and assuming he did something… or something similar.

But I’d rather fake pee than stand awkwardly…

A friend or two from before Sirius got disowned. I would presume there had to be someone he was close to before finding the Marauders, potentially with that lasting until his name got blasted off the tapestry. Unless he was the kid all the other parents cringed at and told their child to stay away from. Either way, someone he was close to. Happy to explore that, having been out of pitying his not exactly fitting in or actually being friends. Friends to enemies is another take I’ll gladly work with. 

I don’t really want to do the work today…

Someone to encourage Sirius to better apply himself (close friend, pureblood passive-aggressively saying so, etc.). Pureblood upbringing and a sharp mind could likely be put to better use outside the bar setting, but he’s perfectly happy to bartend. He likely will not consider switching career paths. That said, getting that thought of seeing if the Ministry or somewhere more professional will take him could get him to start to reconsider being content at the bar.

I’m overcompensating for heartbreak

Sirius has never been good at relationships, often proving to be careless with them and preferring one-night stands over things being serious. Looking to establish a few hookups, exes, and/or anyone he may have been a little too careless about. I hc Sirius as not caring about who he is with as long as a decent shag and/or night spent cuddled up can be promised, so will open this up to anyone. Lovely case of “why would I open up to loving someone else if I can’t love myself” keeping him from having properly dated over the years.

It was giving me hell, so I gave it the same…

Someone that regularly picked on Sirius from Hogwarts onward. Can still be in the habit of doing so. Open to that having been something since childhood if a pureblood picks that connection up. Would love for things to have escalated to Sirius giving the attitude or hexes thrown his way back.

If you’re sad and you know it, and you don’t want to show it, clap your hands…

Sirius could benefit from having a trustworthy person to confide in, especially if their level of trust was established before being disowned, or strengthened afterward.

[savingthrcw]

Ah yes, that is a good point. It is winners who do so, but then, wouldn't that mean that he can't learn real history either? "But in the present you can ask more people for their opinion and then make your own, truth is often halfway. In the past you don't get the chance to interrogate them or whatever else you could do to a living person now. You can't see their expressions, watch events unfold. You will learn from what has been left, from what the winners wrote, from what the losers chose not to keep to themselves, no way to find out more, not the secrets, not the things they didn't admit to themselves," she points out, finding herself sincerely interested despite her attempt to joke around it. "History is even less open to us than the present, because it's done. And you could read in it whatever your biases say, without anyone there to disagree." What is she doing? She's not equipped - not even educated enough - to have this kind of conversations. What is Leliana thinking? Shouldn't she have said something about her being 'kind but not the brain of the operation'? No, Leliana wouldn't even if it's true. "... And spirits, to me... I think they are like us. But yeah, if you ask the Darkspawn, obviously I'm the bad guy. Past or present, we are all each other's... bad guys or heroes, I guess. I'm not disagreeing, not really, just trying to understand."

She narrows her eyes slightly at the mention of blood magic - Jowan, blasted he may be wherever he's hiding - but lets him speak, listening intently. How does he know about the ritual? Someone must have blabbed out of turn. "Why would I want someone to give their blood to cure me, when there are so many other magic options that don't require them hurting themselves? Why would I use something that brings up so many more risks than other options, like handling explosive that can't ever be fully controlled and will likely blow up in my face, instead of picking a well-known weapon that will do the job without any of that? Forgive me, but even if you might make a biased assessment of me from this, I will not pretend that I like the idea of using blood magic just to appear open-minded. I'd rather you see me as a small person, but honest to myself, than be fake so that I can look better." She shrugs, if only to show she means no aggression even if she can't see it the same way, "But not studying human bodies out of fear of blood magic is ridiculous. As per the rite... if you know about it, you also know the consequences, and that it's a tested one time thing that will bite you in the--that will have one nasty permanent consequence. Case in point, doesn't end well even if useful at the time."

Is he going to fight her now? She has no idea of where this conversation is going, if he chose blood magic on purpose because Leliana told him she has a problem with it, or it was an unfortunate accident, or if he can take the disagreement without walking away. So much for a normal first talk. Still, the one thing she's got in her life is her own mind, she learned how to use it only after the Circle, she's not about to hide it now.

❛ I SUPPOSE THAT'S THE CRUX OF IT ALL ------ it is not just people who write history , but winners ; very rarely do you get the whole picture . people are fallible , at best . take , for example , yourself ; i can ask all i'd like about your experience with the blight , but that is the only true viewpoint i could hope to get . WHAT OF THE DARKSPAWN YOU SLAYED ? or the archdemon himself ? i don't suppose you asked his opinion before sealing his fate ? to them , you are a villain . but i suppose that treks into the question of whether you view spirits or demons as merely good or evil ---------- of if you're someone like myself , neither . ❜ he's known far too many twisted gods &* peaceful demons to pass any true judgement .

❛ to answer the question plainly ---------- i favor history because i may have the chance to read more than one vantage point . word of mouth varies by region &* outcome . i find people prone to hiding truth to cover ego ----- closing their minds to conversations that do not align with their moral code . for instance , many people view blood magic as a inherently evil because it may involve demons &* , sometimes , the death or control of others . they exile all blood magic into a group simply labeled EVIL . never mind that most of those users only use their blood or that of willing participants , &* the possibility that the trade may only be used for stronger magic . it is simply a tool like any other ---- some believe it's the most free use of magic there is , seeing as it does not require a deal with a spirit or a direct attachment to the fade . did you know that because of the fear of the craft itself , we cannot study living bodies without fear that we're opening ourselves to demons ? we do not know what happens anatomically , within our own bodies , because we are that scared of blood . did you know that blood magic can be a powerful healing magic ? did you not drink darkspawn blood yourself to become a grey warden ? ❜ a brow is raised ; perhaps it's a sworn secret among the ranks , but it's not unable to learned . ❛ before you make your biased assessment of me , i do not condone or disavow how anyone uses their magic . all this is to say that people are stubborn &* close-minded ; that has never changed in all of the millenia of cognizant life . i prefer to read the viewpoints of many , from all over this world &* beyond , &* keep my mind open instead of limited by my travels . ❜

[hollandorks]

saved

matt murdock x original female character

chapter one 

Summary: Fleeing from an abusive relationship, Grace St. James goes to the only place she still has a friend: Hell’s Kitchen. She’s forced to live in her car and beg for a job from the law firm Nelson, Murdock, and Page all the while making sure her past doesn’t catch up to her. Enter Matt Murdock: cocky, handsome, and willing to let her live with him for free until she can afford to get a place of her own. Grace is drawn to Matt in a way she’s never been drawn to anyone, causing sparks to fly as they inevitably grow closer and closer.

a/n: Oh look, a new fic! I’ve always been a huge fan of the Daredevil show, but it aired during my college years which left very little time for any reading or writing of fanfic. I love that there’s been kind of a resurgence because of She-Hulk and the announcement of the new series! Anyways, this fic is 100% pure self-indulgence. There’s fluff and smut and banter and a lot of me just trying to make Matt Murdock happy. I’m having a blast writing it, so I hope you find it fun too! 

(also yes, I’m still working on my Batman fic SITN! Don’t worry if that’s what you follow me for--I will be finishing that one.) 

Series Masterlist

word count: 4472

The knife under Grace’s pillow was cold and reassuring. She touched it for the tenth time as if to make sure it was still there, though she knew it was. She’d gone to bed early just to feel its comforting presence, because she couldn’t stand sitting awake with her fear for another minute. 

She rolled onto her back and brought the knife with her, cradling it to her chest like a child with a stuffed toy. 

Her face was still hurting. Her ribs too. She inhaled a trembling breath as she remembered the night before, right before Dean had left. She couldn’t even remember what she’d said but he’d slapped her across the face so hard she’d fallen, and then he’d kicked her in the ribs. 

She was happy he’d been leaving for a short business trip. With him gone, even for barely twenty-four hours, at least she could lick her wounds in peace. 

But Dean was coming back. 

He always came back. 

The knife was a precaution that she would hide the moment Dean stepped foot back into the house. Under the mattress, where it couldn’t be seen or accidentally found, but close enough to reach. Just in case. It was there for the same reason that she’d taken a bunch of self defense classes. 

Grace didn’t want to die, and she couldn’t say for certain that Dean wouldn’t kill her one day.

Her phone chimed. She rolled over to grab for it, sliding the knife back under her pillow with practiced ease as she went. Dean had his own alert sounds and ringtones on her phone. Sometimes he reacted poorly if she took too long to respond. 

Meeting ran late, so I won’t be back until mid morning tomorrow. I’ll make it up to you at brunch. There was even a little heart emoji. 

Grace bolted upright in their luxurious bed. 

Dean wouldn’t be back until the morning. 

Dean would be gone all night. 

Her heart pounded as she realized that this was it. He was rarely gone long enough for her to get away with anything, especially something so big. 

Grace hurriedly sent back a bunch of hearts–an appropriate late night response, she hoped, because she really didn’t need him to call her yet. 

She grabbed the knife, her phone, her pillow. She felt dizzy with fear and relief all at once. 

She’d spent half of her life with Dean at this point, and half of that with him beating her, abusing her, his words almost as painful as his actions. He had been kind at first but with a temper, and she had loved him despite of it. Then he had started to hit her. To verbally abuse her. He always followed it with sweet lies and extra attention, making her believe that he would never do it again. But he always did it again. 

Now Grace was leaving. And she wasn’t coming back. 

She half-ran around the bedroom and bathroom as she threw everything she could into her two suitcases and a backpack. She’d already hidden away cash–two thousand dollars from her mother’s wedding fund for them for “a cash deposit on a venue”–and various other things she could safely hide in her car without seeming suspicious. 

Grace packed everything she could fit into those three bags. Everything she cared about–her jewelry, photos of her father, the clothes that she thought would be most useful, and a few other things she would eventually need once she was truly on her own two feet. 

Her breaths came in great, heaving gasps as she packed and her hands shook so hard a lot of things dropped on their way into the bags. If Dean came in–there was no way to hide what she was doing. 

But her phone stayed blessedly silent along with the rest of their townhome. 

She zipped up the bags and glanced around one more time. She had every article of clothing and every pair of shoes she could fit into the bags, her toiletries, her jewelry, her photos, even her pillow. 

“Chargers, laptop, lotion, birth control,” she muttered to herself as she zipped those things into her backpack. She glanced around again. She had the essentials–and there was still a little room in the backpack. Fuck it, she thought, and shoved a few of the expensive purses Dean had gotten her the past couple of years into it. Her mother would die of a heart attack if she saw how Grace was handling those purses but Grace didn’t care. 

She sucked in a deep breath. 

This was it. This was happening. 

No going back now. 

Grace grabbed her three bags, pillow, and phone then darted outside as quickly as she could. Her eyes darted around the street, searching for anyone who might recognize her, or worse–Dean. 

The street was blessedly empty. 

Grace shoved her things into her car. She started the ignition, already putting it into drive, and drove away. 

Her hands shook on the steering wheel. 

It was starting to feel a little like fate, maybe. This night had been months in the making and everything was coming together so well she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. It always dropped. 

A small voice in her head whispered hopefully, But maybe it won’t. Things have been so bad, you’re bound to have a some good luck eventually. 

Grace made her way windingly towards the only place in all of New York City where she had a friend not connected to Dean in some way: Hell’s Kitchen. Maybe she was paranoid, but she didn’t take the most obvious route in case she was somehow being followed. Dean was, after all, a very rich and powerful man. 

It was late, too late. She knew from their friendship on Facebook and other social media that Ryan and his wife had a new baby. She would have to find somewhere to wait–somewhere to hide–until morning when she could beg for his help. 

Somewhere near Ryan’s restaurant and apartment, Grace found public parking and pulled over. She locked her doors and hoped no one would bother her. She’d brought the knife with her, just in case. 

She was too wired to sleep. She checked her face in the rearview mirror. There was a nice bruise on her cheek, the corner of her lip purpled on that side. The kind of purple that makeup would only draw attraction to. She knew that from experience. 

Grace rested her forehead on the steering wheel for a moment. It hurt to breathe but she had no idea if it was the bruised ribs or the panic and fear. 

If Dean found her…

She had made sure to turn off all location services on her phone, had deleted the find my friends app Dean had made her get, had tried her best to leave zero indication of where she was or where she was planning to go. For now, her phone was off, which was the safest thing for her. 

But as soon as she sent that last text in the morning, she’d ditch her phone, too. Get a new number. She had access to all of her stuff on the cloud, anyways. A phone was just a phone, and it was worth getting rid of just so it’d be that much harder to find her. 

She knew, logically, Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t too far from Dean’s townhome on the Upper West Side, but it may as well have been a world away. Dean thought she was spoiled just because he gave her things, gave her money, gave her a place to live that cost millions of dollars. 

All Grace wanted was to be able to take a deep breath for once. All she wanted was to be able to goddamn breathe for more than a few hours at a time. She didn’t want to have to look over her shoulder, to question and double check every word she spoke and every action she made. 

Grace wanted to live, and she was afraid that staying with Dean would inevitably put a stop to that. 

So she was running and hiding like a coward. 

All she needed was a little bit of help to make it happen. Two thousand dollars wasn’t much in the grand scheme of things. But maybe Ryan could give her a job and a place to stay just for a month, just until she could get her feet under her and get the hell out. 

Grace had to admit to herself that it felt almost good to do something for herself for once. To say damn the consequences and do what was best for herself. Even if what was best was running for her life. At least she was doing it–at least it had been her decision. And at least she wasn’t half dead. She knew some women left abusive relationships only when things got too bad. Things were bad enough already, and they escalated every time Dean got angry. 

She finally reclined her seat. It was nearing three in the morning, and the adrenaline of leaving was wearing off. She pushed her pillow against the window and got as comfortable as she could, using her jacket as a blanket. 

The knife was still clutched in her hands as she finally drifted off into a restless sleep. 

A loud knock startled Grace awake. She hadn’t been asleep long, because dawn was just breaking over the city. Her eyes were heavy and gritty with sleep and she had trouble remembering where she was for a moment. 

And somehow her luck was still holding, because the jacket she’d used as a blanket concealed the knife in her hands. 

Grace quickly turned the key in the ignition so she could roll down the window. 

A female police officer was standing there with arms crossed. Her breath fogged in the air as she said, “Time to move on, ma’am.” 

Grace flushed. “I’m so sorry, my apartment isn’t ready until this afternoon and I just–” 

The officer sighed, releasing another cloud of fog. “I don’t care. You just can’t park here from six in the morning to six at night. It’s a quarter past.” 

“Oh,” Grace said stupidly. “Yeah, of course, I’m so sorry.” 

“Next time it’s a ticket.” The officer’s bright blue eyes studied Grace’s face in the rising morning light. She seemed to soften. “Couple blocks away there's a gas station, the owner lets people park overnight for ten bucks. If you need another night. Or…there’s a women’s shelter–” 

“Thank you, officer,” Grace said softly before the sentence was finished. She didn’t need a women’s shelter. Dean wasn’t stupid–he’d look into those first, probably. After he checked with each and every person they knew.  

“Have a good day.” The officer gave her one last look, eyes narrowing at the bruise on Grace’s cheek, then strode away. 

Grace blew out a breath as her heart finally settled back down. She started the car and pulled away. It wasn’t far to Ryan’s, and she was sure she could find somewhere nearby to park until she could talk to him. 

She set the knife on the passenger side floorboard as she drove. She yawned. It had barely been three hours since she’d fallen asleep, roughly six since she’d left. Already it felt as if a lifetime had passed. 

She found a spot near Ryan’s and paid for an hour of parking on the meter. It was cold, autumn threatening in the air though it was quickly warming as the sun rose. It definitely didn’t feel like late August. 

As Grace warmed up in her car, she typed the text she’d been mentally drafting for weeks. 

Dean, I’m sorry to do it this way, but I think we should break up. I figured after so long that a clean break was easier for both of us. So I packed up and I’m moving out. I’m sorry. Please don’t try to reach out to me. 

Her whole body shook as she sent the text. 

Dean’s response was immediate, surprising her so badly she dropped her phone. She whacked her head on the edge of the steering wheel in her haste to grab it to silence his call. 

He immediately called again. She sent that one to voicemail too, and the third and the fourth. 

Ha ha Grace. You’ll pay for this joke.  

Something in her clenched, though she reminded herself that he wasn’t near her this time. 

I’m serious. Leave me alone.You aren’t any good for me anymore. Her eyes blurred with angry tears as she sent the text.  

You’re mine. You think you can just run off on a whim? After all I’ve given you? Stop ignoring my calls like a bitch. 

He called again, and again she ignored it. 

I swear I’ll make you pay for this, Grace. You can’t just up and leave me. 

Yes, I can, and I did. Leave me ALONE. 

She felt proud of herself for the clarity of her response despite the fear sinking into every space in her body. Her jaw was clenched so hard it was making her whole head hurt. 

You bitch. I’ll kill you before I let you go. 

She sucked in a sharp, surprised breath at the blatant threat. 

She immediately screenshot their conversation and uploaded it to the cloud. 

Then she turned her phone off, removed the sim card, and threw it in a nearby trash can. 

She was on her way back to the car when she saw Ryan. He was down the alley beside the restaurant, taking several bags of trash to the dumpster. 

Grace took a deep breath and jogged across the street. 

Now or never, she told herself. She knew Ryan was a good man, and he was the only person in her whole life who wasn’t tainted by Dean and her life with him. Ryan had been hers before she had been Dean’s, and she hoped he still thought well enough of her to help her. 

God, what if he wouldn’t help her?

She forced herself to call out, “Ryan?” 

He whirled to face her. His expression was shocked, then confused, then it abruptly cleared with recognition. His sandy blonde hair was a shade darker and a lot shorter than it had been in high school, and he’d grown a goatee that actually didn’t look half bad. The boy she’d known had become a man, and it suited him. 

“Gracie?” he said, dumbfounded. “Is that you?” 

She took that as a good sign and moved a little closer. She stepped from the restaurant building’s shadow and into a little shaft of light in the alley. 

Ryan gasped. He must have seen the bruise on her face. “Gracie, what happened to you?” 

“Ryan, I–I need your help. Please. You’re the only one I can come to.” She laced her fingers together in front of her chest like she was praying. She didn’t believe in God, but if he would do this one thing for her, she’d consider faith. 

“Gracie–” he said just as the back door near them creaked open. 

“Forgot one, bonehead!” said a cheerful female voice. There was a small noise–a baby. Ryan’s wife and baby. 

Grace stumbled back a step. She shouldn’t have come here. 

“Jess,” Ryan said softly. “This is Grace. She needs some help.” 

A short, curvy woman stepped outside. She held a bundle in one arm while her other hand held a small trash bag that she set down outside the door. Her dark eyes were suspicious as her strawberry blonde hair gleamed in the morning light. Grace knew the moment she saw the bruise, because her eyes narrowed further and her arms tightened protectively around the little squirming bundle. 

Ryan and Grace both held their breath as they waited for her judgment. 

“Well,” Jess finally said with a small sniff. “We better talk about this over coffee.” 

Grace was led upstairs to a small apartment above the restaurant. It was homey, cozy and warm in all the right ways despite some clutter, and already smelled strongly of coffee. There were colors everywhere–random pieces of art, family photos, a brilliantly colored throw blanket, various baby toys and gadgets. It looked like a home. Grace thought back to the cold townhome she’d come from. 

“Take a seat at the table,” Jess said, her voice so commanding that Grace’s body obeyed without thought. “Ryan, grab her a mug while I change him real quick, I just heard him shit like crazy on the way up.” 

Ryan laughed softly. “That’s my boy.” 

Within minutes, the three of them were seated around the small kitchen table, hands cupped around steaming mugs while Jess fed the baby a bottle. 

“So,” Ryan said after a moment. He was still studying Grace’s face, over and over, like he couldn’t believe she was here. Or maybe the bruise looked worse than she thought. “What’s Dean Bennett’s almost fiance need from little old me?” The words weren’t venomous–Ryan had always had a bit of a brusque way about him, and Grace could already see why he and Jess fit so well together. Blunt without being cruel. 

Grace winced. “I…” She swallowed hard and stared down at her mug. How could she put this on them? No one knew about this, not even her mother. Only she and Dean and the bruises. “I–I don’t–” 

“Well, spit it out. You came here for a reason,” Jess said plainly. Something about her utter bluntness bolstered Grace. She just had to be like Jess, like Ryan, and just…put it plainly. 

“Dean beats me,” she finally said with a small gesture towards her face. After a beat, she lifted the side of her shirt to show those bruises, because they were even worse than the one on her face. 

Ryan cursed colorfully and pushed away from the table.

“Shit,” Jess said softly. “Are they broken?” 

Grace shrugged and let her shirt fall. “I don’t think so. It doesn’t hurt too bad to breathe.” 

“Gracie–” Ryan said in a tight voice. He rubbed a hand over his head. “You–How long has he done this to you?” 

For some reason, this part was harder to admit to. “Years,” Grace said. Her eyes sought her coffee mug again. She was glad to have something to hold, something to ground her. “The last three or so years, and it’s just been getting worse. But last night was the first night I was alone in…a long time.” 

Ryan cursed again. Jess shifted the baby to her shoulder to burp him, murmuring in the baby’s ear as she did so even though her eyes never left Grace. Ryan absently placed a hand on the back of the baby’s head, just for a second, tenderness clear in his expression. 

“You said you needed help,” Jess said as she settled the baby back in her arms with the bottle. “What do you want from us?” 

“I’m–I’m hiding from him. I mean, you know who he is. What he can do. He has money and resources and–I just need to get enough money to get on my feet so I can leave, leave and go somewhere he won’t find me. Until he gives up.” Grace clenched her hands around the mug so tightly she worried it might shatter. “I have nowhere to stay, no job, and limited resources right now. I slept in my car last night.” She blinked back tears and finally looked Ryan in the eyes. “You’re the only person I can trust. Everyone else I know, every single fucking person in my life, is connected to Dean.” 

Ryan and Jess exchanged a look. He grimaced. “I…we only have two bedrooms right now, and one is the nursery. And our couch, well–” He gestured to it. Grace looked over, and knew exactly what he meant. It was more of a loveseat than a couch. “And the restaurant…I’d give you a job, you know I would, but we just hired a new waiter and a new hostess a couple of weeks ago. We can’t afford another person right now.” 

Grace chewed her lower lip. “I–I get it, I understand. I know I just showed up here out of the blue. If you know anywhere else that’s hiring, just point me in their direction.” She gave a smile that felt all wrong on her face. 

“Grace, Ryan and I need to talk about how we can help you, alright?” Jess’s voice was much softer than it had been. “There’s a place around the corner that sells breakfast. Give us…ten, fifteen minutes.” 

Grace blinked slowly, looking between the pair of them. “Alright,” she said after a minute, because what other choice did she have? 

So she went and got breakfast–surprisingly good and cheap enough that she didn’t worry about using the money–in such a daze that she couldn’t even muster the energy to overthink anything. 

Fifteen minutes later, she was back at Ryan’s kitchen table. She could hear Jess down the hallway talking softly to the baby. 

“Look, I can get you a permit for our second spot for the apartment. I know it’s not ideal for you to sleep in your car, but you can at least use our bathroom and stuff while you do. And I hate to, but if you could pay the permit fee, and maybe a little for using the utilities?” He looked guilty for asking, but she understood. “And if anyone calls out sick or anything in the restaurant, you can fill in and get paid the same as they do for the night, keep any tips you get.” 

Grace wanted to cry. “Thank you, Ryan. Really. Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me, it’s barely anything,” he grumbled with a faint blush on his cheeks. “Now, as for an actual job, there’s this law firm called Nelson, Murdock, and Page. They’re known around here for helping people out, that kind of stuff. They helped us out last year. They’re great people. I heard they need a secretary, so maybe they’ll give you the gig. Or they at least might agree to help you with a restraining order or something for free.” 

Grace nodded eagerly. It sounded promising–really promising. A secretary at a law firm. She could do that. She immediately dismissed the restraining order thing. She would never win. 

“Thank you,” she said again. She reached out and squeezed his hand. “And Jess, too. This is all I need until I can get something better going. And, um…do you have a printer? I don’t…I don’t have a resume.” She flushed hotly. She’d never needed one. She’d worked a few jobs in college, mostly to pay for gas without having to beg Dean for it. The only other thing she even had to put on a resume was her degree in communications from Cornell. Which Dean and his family had paid for, just so they could be together at school and simultaneously have a neat little checked box for her eventual role as perfect trophy wife. She would never have gotten into such a good school on her own, let alone been able to afford it. 

“Yeah, sure. Put me down as a reference, too. I’ll tell them how great you are, how hard you work.” He grinned briefly. “I take it…you don’t want any word getting out that you’re here, right? Nothing to tie you to him?” 

Grace nodded slowly. “I even threw out my phone.” 

“That’s going to make it hard to get an apartment, you know. Most of them are kind of like jobs–they want references of previous landlords you’ve had, previous addresses. Usually first month’s rent, security deposit, that kind of stuff.” He blew out a long breath. “I don’t know, maybe those lawyers can help you with that.” 

Grace blanched at everything she was facing, simply to be free of Dean. She’d only taken one single, measly step down this current path. She’d never lived on her own, except in college, and even then she spent half the week staying with Dean anyways. She’d never had a real job, at least not since she and Ryan had dated in high school. And if she didn’t want Dean to find her, she had to get creative in finding ways around landlord references. Or find a shitty place that didn’t care if she had references as long as she had cash, but that brought up a whole other set of issues she didn’t want to think about. 

“Thank you Ryan, really. This–It’s taken me a lot to just get here, to get out and–” 

Ryan squeezed her hand as her voice cracked. “Ah, it was mostly all Jess’s idea. Once I convinced her you wouldn’t be a baby-napper or anything.” 

Grace’s face blanched. “Oh God, no, I don’t–” 

Ryan chuckled. “Yeah, don’t worry, I told her how you felt about babies. How they terrify you.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, whatever.” She glanced around the apartment and felt a little sting of pride for him. “Jess seems great. And the restaurant, too. I’ve been watching on social media as you guys start to blow up. I’m happy for you. And a baby? I can’t even imagine you with a baby.” It was true–she had loved Ryan once, when they were still half babies themselves, and she really was happy to see him doing so well.

“Thanks,” Ryan said, sheepish. “Jess is great. Parenting is…hard, especially with a business, but she makes it all seem so easy. I don’t deserve her.” His voice took on a dreamy quality. There was so much love shining through his eyes it was as clear as the sunlight pouring through the window in the living room. 

There was a sharp pain in Grace’s chest. She wanted that kind of love. A love without fear. A love of a good man, a man who would take care of her. A man who was proud of her. 

“Nah, you really don’t,” Grace teased so he wouldn’t catch the pain in her expression. 

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Cmon, bigshot. I’ll take you to go get a new phone so I can call you when rent’s due.” 

Grace was lighter than she had been in years. Yes, the path before her was rocky and covered in shadows and uncertainty. Yes, the fear was still ever present in the back of her mind that Dean might find her, might even kill her. 

But she was finally living for herself, even if it meant living out of her car for a few months, because she had done the hardest part of all. And she still had at least one friend. 

Grace took a deep, grateful breath of air as she and Ryan walked. “So, what time does this law firm open?”

Next Chapter

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[north-peach]

I Had An Idea and Now We Have To Learn To Write Screen Play Because Netflix Needs This - an essay by me & my other half

(warning for like, violent and gore and death and stuff. Low key R rated? idk don't @me)

So, just think about this cop.

A good cop.

Winds up launching this investigation into this bad news kinda person. Ends up on a special task force that does a lotta walking the line. Gets their target, but then everyone kinda splits. Goes their own seperate ways. Maybe something bad happened.

Teammate got shot, someone got real sick, something happened.

And cop is left right back where he started from. All the paperwork, the politics, the pettiness, the corruption and a rising crime rate that the brass aren't doing anything about.

More and more people slip through the cracks. The wronged never see their justice and those who wronged them, walk free.

Drug dealers selling spiked product to teens. Streets once safe, now people rarely venture out unless in large groups. Crime rates skyrocket.

He can't just...do nothing.

He's got means, motive and opportunity.

No more, he says, whispers, shout and scream. No more, enough is enough.

He calls in a few favors from his friends, the ones who always joked about the stick up his ass, about his rules and regulations, about his procedures-

They were right.

He dons his old armor, although with a new paint job and loads his magazine.

Time to do things how they used to.

~~~

He goes to the parts of the city cops never go. The parts that everyone in his precinct is literally forbidden to go.

(Bahati Evens is probably the oldest detective on the force and it's entirely likely she's the only straight cop there judging by how often she gets saddled with desk duty- never given any cases but the most minor. He honestly loves her no bullshit attitude and will murder for her.)

It takes hours. Days. Weeks. Months. He's lost track of time. But also, a base has been established, flow of money, water, food, and a hard won reputation as a thing to fear. He's a bloody mess, sweating, stinking, filthy and his mouth tastes like something died in it.

But he did it.

The streets are safer, people are starting to walk taller, kids are tentatively playing on the old playground. Several food stands have opened up and one of the bagel places is staffed solely by females who aren't afraid to throw rowdy customers bodily out the door.

He's doing good.

Inside his head, a cacophony of screaming thoughts collide and the crazed grin that stretches over his face would be called exuberant joy were it not for the gore splattered over it giving him a terrifying look more suited to a slasher movies villain.

I LOVE THIS CRIME RIDDEN HELL HOLE, he shrieks in his head. I LOVE MY SNIPER RIFLE, I LOVE ALL MY WEAPONS BUT THE SNIPER RIFLE IF MY FAVORITE. I LOVE THAT I LITERALLY POINT MY WEAPON AND SHOOT. THEY'RE ALL CRIMINALS. THEY'RE ALL TERRIBLE PEOPLE. MURDERERS AND RAPISTS AND CHILD ABUSERS. I'M HAVING A BLAST. NO PAPERWORK, NO PROCEDURES, SO CORRUPT JUDGES. I'M HELPING PEOPLE. PEOPLE OVERDOSING ON SPIKED DRUGS IS DOWN. THEFT IS DOWN. RAPE IS DOWN. KIDNAPPING IS DOWN. ASSAULT IS……

At this point, he will, of course, stop and realize assault is probably up.

He'll mull over this revelation, before continuing that line of thought.

Eh, murder…..yeah that's kinda down??? There's……less civilian casualties…

(cough)

That's about when one of the gangs still standing bursts into his base, backed by his former co-workers.

...

Well, it was bound to happen eventually.

~~~

It takes....not as long as he thought? More playing chicken, hide and go seek, tag and beer pong, only more permanent and all of a sudden he realizes he hasn't seen a single cop uniform in....

...in....

...

shit.

~~~

First, he takes a nap. A well earned nap. After the shower. And the food. And the laundry.

~Three Days Later~

When he finally gets up and downs four prescription ibuprofen and like two Tylenol, throws on some soft, well worn comfy clothes over his now dubbed 'vigilante uniform', he ambles on down to the police station.

He doesn't know who survived the whole Incident, but if that's a problem, he'll take care of it.

The only problem, when he walks into the police station is that while most of the blood stains have been cleaned off the floor, there's a teenage, scrubbing desperately at one spot, looking like he's on the verge of crying?

The moment he looks up and they make awkward eye contact is...

...well.

The scrub brush gets dropped, as the teen lurches to his feet, finger pointed in accusation even as he yells-

"It was you! You bastard!"

"They all deserved it!" He doesn't give the- janitor?- kid room to talk, pointing his own finger twice as aggressively back. "They took bribes, arrested and framed the innocent and let the guilty walk! They deserved it!"

"Screw you! I know that, but why did you have to kill all of them! I'm one person!"

He.....blinks. What. Vigilante not computing. What?

The kid looks like he's trying really hard not to cry.

"I just graduated and i moved here to look after my grandma and I was hoping to work my way up! Learn things! Job experience! I don't know how to do this!"

He stares blankly.

"High school?"

"POLICE ACADEMY."

A head full of beautiful braided locks pokes itself out from the chief of police's office and he almost draws his gun for a second before he recognizes those white teeth against black skin and he ends up smiling.

"Detective Evans! How are you liking the new promotion!"

"Chief of police now, police being newly graduated Chris Franks, who is now police detective, corporal, sergeant, lieutenant, captain and deputy chief."

Bahati levels a deeply unimpressed look at the abysmal attempts to scrub the bloodstains out of the wood.

"And janitor."

"Ah," says the vigilante responsible for...everything.

Franks looks even more accusing. Also like he's 18. Which is...kinda...hard to brush him off when he looks like a literal child.

Abruptly, with the full intention of going out and finding at least a janitor, and a couple of people to work administrative jobs- mostly for Police Chief Evans because she deserves all the help- Franks makes a deeply disgusted noise and lunges for dry floor to hurl himself out the door after the city's most feared vigilante.

The one that rumors say he's mostly like an inmate escaped from the nearest asylum after burning it to the ground. The one all the rumors agree that is completely crazy and is probably super human because he does things that seem to be impossible.

("Someone call in the national guard, he's literally a one man army!"

"Can't, the mayor's in on it to and there's something like an unspoken agreement that he pretends to be on the straight and narrow and Vengeance won't brutally murder his way through the local government too."

"Ah. Right. Being a crminal is just unhealthy these days."

"Good thing we're just normal civilians."

"Right? Haha.")

Bodily throwing himself against the vigilante manages to move him til his back almost hits the wall and Chris is aware that he looks young so he uses it to him advantage.

"I need help!"

He honestly can't keep the desperation out of his voice, because he really, really does need help.

Vengeance jerks with the force of it and turns his gaze to him, the intensity of those blue, blue eyes shooting up drastically.

"I can't do this on my own! Boss can't do this on her own! We have no people to answer 911 calls! We can't patrol, we can't help with problems, be the minor or major! I'm in over my head and please, we need help!"

Vengeance says...nothing, just stares at him in disbelief.

"Are you asking me to come back to my old job after I- ?"

"No! Yes! I don't care, I need help!"

~The Next Day~

"I left this job to go murder people, if you think I would murder you to leave this job again, you are sadly mistaken."

"Walk me through how to file this evidence report one more time so I can send this up the chain to get an innocent man out of jail."

"You literally just turn it in to the evidence locker! All you have to do is fill this and this out and hand it to the sergeant!"

"The one you killed whose hands you painted red before sticking them in a rat trap?"

"I killed the real murderer in that case you're struggling with. You're welcome."

...

...

...

"Department standard is to enter all the physical items on this line, any organic-"

~~~

One of the local baristas drops in to present those (still alive) working the early shifts, with coffee and pastries, stops dead when he sees that infamous vigilante, commonly referred to as Vengeance, sitting in a chair, leg propped up in a cast, with the rim of a hat glued to his helmet head armor thing.

He's pointing to a piece of paper, going through each line and what information needs to be put where.

Miles blinks.

The actual detective (he thinks?) is staring at a pile of paper and nodding seriously, as he is visibly taking mental notes. And actual notes. On a separate piece of paper.

Miles makes a noise.

Vengeance doesn't both to turn around, simply holds out a hand.

Miles automatically walks the last couple of steps forward and Vengeance is drinking his coffee. Vengeance is letting out an appreciative hummm and turning back to the paper.

The officer looks up and says, eyes dead and black as the coffee.

"This is the consultant. You can call him Mr. Vigil."

That's a vigilante. That's THE vigilante. Vengeance. He murdered so many people. It was awesome. It was terrible. He's.......doing paperwork. He's SHOWING YOU how to DO THE PAPERWORK.

"Hey kid."

The smooth and smokey voice of the new chief of police, that almost everyone's been talking about reaches his ears, but before he can do much, the bag of pastries is no longer in his hands and all he can see is the mass of braided locks disappearing into the police chief's office.

Okay.

"Have a good one, keep up the good work!"

See, the thing is Miles says this to Chief Evans, toe Detective Franks.

But it's Vengeance who says-

"Thanks! You too!"

Miles goes home.

(-and pulls up tumblr)

~~~

At the end of the day, Chief Evans emerges from her office, looking entirely professional and like she's got everything under control- which is debatable but not surprising.

B- the vigilante has successfully taught the Rookie on how to operate an evidence locker properly.

"Congratulations, Franks. You get another promotion."

The rookie's jubilant expression immediately crashes into abject despair.

Bahati can feel that mood and she respects it.

Needs must though.

B- the unidentified vigilante stands to his feet, yanking the cast off his leg, before absently reaching up to yank off the hat brim that he glued to his helmet/head protection thing.

"Good job, rookie. I'll see you later. Chief. Good night."

When the sounds of his footsteps fades, Franks turns to her, face void of expression.

"I quit."

"I'll give you a raise."

"How much?"

"I'll pay you for every job you're currently doing.

"Chief," Franks says quietly in tones of resigned distress, "I'm doing all of them."

"Not mine and not whatever job you conned Vengeance into."

She nods firmly, straightening from her slouch against the door frame.

"I figure you're juggling about a dozen different positions so that's what I'll pay you for."

"...is that legal?"

"I'm in charge of this shitshow, everyone else who could do anything about this is ignoring it. What I say goes and I say you get paid for what you do. Do you have any objections?"

"...no."

"Good."

Bahati nods one more time, reaching over to lay a steady hand against his shoulders.

"It'll be worth it. Give it time. You're young."

~~~

"Steel. The FBI is sending you down to Police Chief Evens of the 701st Police Precinct to get the lay of the land. Considering your background in Special Forces, your time as an MP and your record, it was determined you were the perfect choice to go."

The Army does things one way, the civilian police does things another. I'm literally going to do nothing other then step on toes, Steel thinks to himself with resigned apathy.

Still, maybe he could squeeze in some down time. There's a lot of rumors coming outta that place, but one thing they have in common is that the city got cleaned up a bit and is safer.

Murder rates are as high- if not higher- then ever though so Steel kinda doubts it.

~~~

Walking into the 701st precinct after feeling like he just got lost in the woods, Steel takes a moment to eavesdrop on the only two people he can see- both sitting at the head of at least three desks shoved together, piled with papers. One, obviously the rookie considering that baby face. The other appears to be an officer on medical leave, judging by the eye patch and the cast he's sporting on his leg.

He takes a step closer- ah there's the chief of police, in the back corner, filing paperwork while...reading a book? Bit odd, but okay.

He doesn't see anyone else, which is strange, this being a weekday and a place of this size should have at least a dozen or more people...and yet?

That's when he tunes into the conversation.

"....as this guy innocent? Honestly, the evidence in this file is pretty solid."

"No, pull up that form. Yes, the release-this-person-from-jail-because-he's-innocent-and-get-ready-to-pay-repreations template and start filling it in so we can see how much closer we are to bankrupting the city."

"But how do you know?"

"Old case. Knew who the real killer was. Found her recently, and it was pretty easy to know because she kept trophies which the other detective- may he rest in pieces- never found because his suspect was innocent."

"What did you do-"

"Blow torch to the eye until-"

"-MR. VIGIL, SIR."

"What? She had this sick fascination with watching and fire and eyes so blow torch to the eyes until-"

The rookie makes a noise like a dying whale and Steel....Steel does not know how to process.

"Burning eye ball smells like bone dust, weirdly enough. But with more...burning? It's a weird smell."

The part of him that did awful nasty things in the name of following orders and was borderline suicidal- laughs. Because hey, that's funny and poetic justice at it's finest.

The other part of him that tries so hard to be a normal person...honestly doesn't know how to process this.

A small huff of amusement ends up escape him anyways.

The wounded office's head swives around and- Steel narrows his eyes, take several steps forward, rolling his shoulders back and pulling his spine up.

"FBI Agent Steel," he introduces himself, composed and steady.

He doesn't offer his hand and the only one who gets to their feet is Chief Evans.

Who immediately says, flatly, without any emotion in her voice.

"I told your superior you weren't necessary."

"My therapist says the opposite, Chief."

Evans doesn't blink. The intense gaze burning a hole in his forehead like a sniper's rifle doesn't abate either.

The rookie, on the other hand, shoots to his feet and levels a finger at him.

"Would you like a job?"

The other guys swings his head over to stare almost disgustedly at his partner, but he pays him no mind and....Steel is a little concerned about undisguised level of extreme emotions on the guy's face.

"We pay more then you earn now, we have great benefits and we're a close knit team that needs the extra hands."

Injured but weirdly pinging his danger radar opens his mouth as if to disagree only to close it thoughtfully, eyes sliding back to stare Steel directly in the face. He looks down, looks up, notices....the similarities between them and nods slowly.

"We also have a more...flexible approach to our operations then most police precincts."

Chief Evans speaks up from in front of him, less hostile, almost easy going now that one of her officers has randomly offered him a job.

A part of himself that did nasty, nasty things without hesitation, rears it's ugly head and Steel reminds himself that he's in his 40s now.

He can't really expect-

"We have the best severance package policy around, too."

instantly, his attention is captured by Blow Torch guy.

The way he said that.

A challenging smirk curls his lips.

"Just bring your desire for truth and justice to the table and we'll be good. If you decide to forget them, well...that's when the policy kicks in."

Oh.

Oh.

This is....

Oooh.

It's crazy. It's reckless. He should arrest the man, the vigilante. He's...procedure requires...

"I get to incorporate military procedures."

Oh shit, Steel's opened his mouth now. The temptation of a challenge, of something different then his job- his former job he was rapidly losing interest in.

Honestly....judging by the not-officer's uniform...

Well.

His battle buddies always did say he had issues.

Vengeance's mouth curved into a real smile.

"Deal."

~~~

Steel drops his resignation that very evening. Leaves a number for consultive work if they absolutely need him and moves six hours away.

Halfway there, the trailer of all his stuff visible in his rearview mirror, Steel gets a text on his phone. Nothing but an address.

Three hours later, when he pulls up, he finds a house. A decent sized one in what looks like a sketchy part of town. But it's set a ways back from the road and it's got some land to it.

The infamous vigilante, Vengeance is sitting on the front porch, no longer wearing a cast or an eyepatch.

Steel decides he's not going to touch that with a 10ft pole for the sheer comedic value it offers him.

A file is thrown at him, just as soon as he's in range for Vengeance to toss it to him.

Quickly opening it and flicking through the paper....he discovers his salary is increased from his previous job and apparently the house comes free.

He raises a judgmental eyebrow in the vigilante's direction, only to get a shit-eating grin in response.

"When questioned on their decision to forcibly keep minors away from their parents or legal guardians, a local gang told me I wouldn't do anything about it and they did as they pleased."

A decidedly darker twist to his features made him look slightly like a demon, but Steel found his own features settling into hard lines.

Vengeance smiles wide.

"I told them they were welcome to test their assumptions at their earliest convivence."

"Such a shame," Steel drawls, eyes crinkling. "You know what they say about assumptions."

Vengeance laughs and stands to his feet, reaching out to clamp his hand around Steel's shoulder.

"You'll fit in nicely around here, Sarge," he murmurs something almost soft smoothing over the sharp angles of his face.

Something like companionship. Two people who understand something in one another.

Steel huffs a laugh.

"Help me unload, then show me around?"

"Deal."

~~~

They go on a raid.

Well...mostly cleaning out a ground of weird science-y types who are strongly invested in both the local drug running gangs and that one gang-adjacent group that is composed solely of teenagers.

Unexpectedly, they get a whole goldmine of anonymous information almost every step of the way. From helped texts, to pictures, videos, even contracts.

Steel even gets to arrest one of the scientists after he and Vengeance have swept their fancy hotel suit, with what looks like a whole lab dominating all but the sleeping places.

Franks, the rookie, seems delighted with the events as even though he's not bad at finding information, apparently whoever is on the other end of the emails, the texts and flood of evidence is better.

Vengeance ends up equally excited by the end of the Easter Hunt, once Chief Evans manages to pin down a location purely through logic, deductive reasoning, common sense and the virtue of being a resident of this city almost all her life.

(And a childhood spent on the streets, but that's neither here nor there.)

Vengeance goes high and Steel goes low and the anonymous hacker they find it not quite what they expect to find.

~~~

"She's 12," Franks says blankly, staring at the girl with dark hair, dark eyes, pale, pale skin and ratty jeans, dwarfed by a blanket and holding a cup of tea suspiciously in her hands.

"I'm 18, asshole," she snaps back.

Literally snaps, Her teeth click and everything.

"I'm 22 and they still think I'm 18," Chris says blankly.

"You are a child, this is a baby. There's a different, just not much of one."

"Screw you, Mr Vigil, sir," Detective Chris Franks says automatically. "How old are you? And what's your name?"

Seconds later, when the tiny terror who is absolutely not 18, smiles (in a terrifying manner) Franks will admit to regretting asking that question.

"Subject Zero. Call me Zed."

"Canadian?" Steel murmurs in the background, sharing a look with Vengeance.

Bahati, on the other hand, dumps a full duffle bag and the girl's feet.

"Do you want a job, Zed?"

The rookie makes a noise of deep despair.

The sound Mr. Vigil makes is more considering then anything else and Chris despairs.

~~~

Subject Zero is really good at electronics, like really really good. She's also a master of talking and talking and never saying anything at all.

Chris is low-key in awe.

Less so when she states calling him baby bro.

He's older then her.

She doesn't seem to care about his logic, nor the facts of life.

Eventually, when she falls quiet, Chris goes back to his paperwork, waiting for his mentor to come and and-

Wait.

Wait a minute.

Has Subject Zero- is Zed doing what he think she's doing?

"Oh," Chris breaths in sheer, breathtaking awe. "He's going to kill you."

The quick, blink and you miss it flash of fear makes him actually blink, but before he can say something to reassure her, Vengeance pops up from literally no where.

Or rather then pop up, more like he jumps down from where ever up above he was hiding.

Now they're both staring at Zed's computer screen as she sits lazily in the office chair. Save of the tenseness of her body, he'd almost believe her unconcerned.

"Virgil Lantes. 32 years old. Ex-Military, records classified. Senior Detective at the 701st Precinct, address 666 Nunya Rd..."

A short silence followed because the hardened features of.....Virgil's face softend.

"Awww, is this what it feel like to bring your kid to work? They make up a brilliant identify for you to use?"

Virgil smiles toothily at Zed, eyes crinkling up in happiness.

"I've gotta go tag my ID man, I'm going to print this out."

In the next second, Vengeance is gone and both Zed and Chris as left blinking.

Steel, groggy and clutching an extra large coffee cup shuffles into the room as the speed of a zombie, and once he takes a seat at his desk, lays his head down with a world weary sign.

"You okay, Sarge?"

"I'm too old for this shit."

~~~

(...ring...ring...ring...ri- click!

"Hey buddy, what's up! You'll never believe it! Leader's back! She's back from the dead! From Hell! From the Pearly Gates! We've got- well, not all the gang back together, and I doubt we will, but we're at least visiting, to say hi. I know we all left, after...after. We're still a team and Leader's going through therapy to get back on her feet so road trip. See ya soon!)

~~~

When the group of some dozen people storm into the police station, only to be greeted by their old buddy literally hauling a body away, leaving a trail of blood behind, to a very young looking man's groaning dismay, a...literal child's disgust and an older looking ex-military kinda guy's apathy....

Well, they're kinda speechless.

When the cop-turned-secret-agent-soldier-turned-cop-turned-vengeful-lethal-vigilante turns and sees his old team, he immediately drops the corpse and, with arms wide open, throw himself at them.

Regardless of the situation they walked in on, of course, they're accepting hugs.

Somehow some of the story comes out, as it does. Accomplishments must be mentioned, especially since their old and dearly beloved leader is here.

"I'm so glad to see you, no lie bro," someone begins, in something like confusion. "What happened to the old you though?"

A snort, and a laugh, before someone else pipes up.

"You remember when I asked you what you were going to do with that stick up your ass? Yeah, the answer was not pull it out to beat people to death with it. I mean if it works for you, good on you. But that wasn't the answer."

@wolfsrainrules

[wandaromanova]

can i request wandanat x r? r wants to propose to wandanat and has been sneaking around to hide her plans of proposal. wandanat thinks r is cheating and maybe leaves her? you decide but angst please and i just love all your work i can't stop re reading them💕

Ruined

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: cussing, arguing, very slight violence, cheating allegations

A/N: hi! thank you for your request! im flattered to know that you love and re read my work! i may or may not have intentionally left this on a cliffhanger whoops 🤭 <3

Ruined | Regret

Word Count: 1.8K | masterlist

(gif is not mine)

You had first met Wanda and Natasha when you were tasked with being the Avengers’ liaison. You were tasked to handpick missions that you believed required the attention of the heroes and assigned team members onto those missions.

You worked very closely with the team, you even lived with them in the compound for convenience. In the time spent working for them, you had grown super close to everyone; most especially Nat and Wanda.

It first started off with the pair going into your office, always asking for missions. You had found it odd considering they never took a break. You didn’t understand why they’d seek out missions when they were clearly exhausted. You figured that maybe they just loved helping people so much that they got excited and anxious for missions, but little did you know what their true intentions were.

They wanted to spend time with you. They wanted to observe you close up and not across a conference table. They wanted to know everything there was to know about you. As creepy as it was, they wanted to get close enough to know what you smelt like. They wanted to know what your lips tasted like. They wanted the relationship with you to surpass professionalism.

Eventually, the two Avengers stopped asking for missions when they came in; they just went to your office for the sake of going there. They’d bring you various lunches every single day and shower you with small compliments.

You’d brushed it off as the women being very good friends that just so happened to be flirts. You were wrong. They were interested in you, in the same way you were in them. You couldn’t help but admire the two beautiful women.

Their green eyes, fit bodies, and kind smiles were a recipe for disaster, in the best way possible. With one look, you’d drop to your knees and do whatever they wanted. They just had to say the word and you would do it, no hesitation. Yeah, it sounds absolutely ridiculous, but it’s painfully and embarrassingly true.

Over the course of time, you had grown closer to Wanda and Nat. Your daily lunches turned into daily movie nights and dinners too. You saw them all the time and you didn’t mind it one bit.

They finally asked you out after a year of spending time with and getting closer to you. It was safe to say, you instantly agreed with a smile on your face as you let out an, “of course! fucking finally!”

•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧─────────❅•

Now, you had been dating the two women for five years. Yeah, it’s been a long ass time, but it still wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to spend forever with Wanda and Nat.

You wanted to get an actual house in the suburbs together. Not an apartment in the middle of New York, but a place you could call home. You craved the domesticity of it all.

You wanted to settle down and have kids with them somehow; whether it be by adoption or via surrogate. You just wanted to have a family of your own with the two woman you loved more than anyone or anything in the universe.

So, you’ve been sneaking around trying to keep your secret, well… a secret. You were planning on proposing to your girlfriends. Yes, this was a very huge step in a relationship, but you felt as though it was the right time. You guys had been together for five years! You were practically married to them already!

You would sneak off suddenly during your usual movie nights with Wanda and Nat or before breakfast to go and meet with different jewelers. You didn’t want to go into a store and buy their rings. That was not an option in the slightest. They were special and deserved special rings. They needed rings that were as unique and one of a kind as they were. It’s what Wanda and Nat deserved.

So, you were constantly leaving, whether it be early in the morning or the late hours of the night, on the search for someone who could make your ideas for their rings, a reality. You would hide your phone from Wanda and Nat’s view and even changed your passcode in order to prevent them from finding out. You’d face your phone down whenever you left it in a room with the pair, as well.

Unfortunately, in your excitement of what was to come, you didn’t realize how suspicious your behavior had been. You figured that you were being pretty discreet, coming up with pretty believable excuses. You even had some of the team help you with your lies, since you let them know what you had planned.

However, you forgot you were dating a world class spy and a witch. You were wrong, obviously. As each day passed, your girlfriends worried and assumed the worst. They let their minds spiral and searched for worst case scenarios. The worst one of all seeming the most likely; infidelity. They came to the conclusion that you were cheating on them.

•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧─────────❅•

Natasha and Wanda cried to one another on one of the nights you bolted off and zoomed out of the apartment with a lame excuse.

Wanda sat on the couch as Nat held her in her arms. They both had tears cascading down their faces as their thoughts were plagued by you; by your supposed betrayal.

“How? How could she do this to us? After everything we’ve been through? She’s goes and cheats on us?” Wanda spoke brokenly as she released a sob. Natasha pulled Wanda closer, the Sokovian woman placing her head in the crook of Nat’s neck.

“I don’t know. I really don’t know, Wanda. All I know is, this can’t go on any longer.” Natasha spoke, trying to keep her voice steady, but her voice failed her. She came out shaky as the sadness and hurt seeped in. You had betrayed them, or so they thought.

They sat there in the same position, waiting for your return. Finally, four hours later. You had come back to the apartment.

You were ecstatic as you made your way up to the front door. You finally found a jeweler that could make the perfect rings for Wanda and Nat! You couldn’t wait to get on one knee and present the rings to the two women who would forever hold your heart. You were over the moon excited right now.

However, your joy was quickly wiped away the second you stepped foot into the apartment. You took in the sight of Wanda and Natasha on the couch, staring at you with dried and fresh tears on their faces. You instantly shut the door and tossed your keys onto the counter as you rushed towards your girlfriends worriedly.

“Nat, Wands, what’s wrong loves?” You asked as you approached them, but Natasha abruptly stood up before you could get too close.

“Don’t you take another fucking step!” Nat snapped at you, and you stumbled backwards a little, in total shock. Your concern increased as you looked between the fuming redhead and the heartbroken looking brunette.

“Did something happen? What’s wrong?” You were so confused and desperately wanted to comfort your girlfriends. You don’t recall doing anything that could anger and upset them this much.

“Yeah, something happened. Our girlfriend is a fucking pathetic, cheating ass bitch who can’t keep it in her pants.” Natasha spoke with venom dripping from her tone. You literally let out a gasp, her words physically hurting you.

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m not cheating on you guys! I love you both more than you guys could even imagine!” You raised your voice, getting frustrated with the situation.

Wanda suddenly stood up and stuck beside Nat. She stared at you with anger clouding her sadness now.

“You’re not cheating on us? Then why the hell have you been running off at weird hours of the day? Why have you been hiding your phone from us?” Wanda began to fire a bunch of questions towards you.

You froze in your place. The answers to their questions weren’t what they thought they would be. The true answers were the complete opposite of cheating, you were acting weird because you were planning on proposing! But you couldn’t tell them that!

You stood silently as the two women stared at you, breathing heavily. They took your silence as confirmation of their suspicions.

“We fucking knew it. You’re a fucking joke, Y/N. Were we not enough for you? Was two women not enough for you?” Wanda inched her way towards you, eyes glowing red.

You backed away, not in fear, but in sadness. You really wished you could tell them the real reasons behind your behavior, but you couldn’t without blowing up your surprise.

“Did you really think you could go behind our backs without us noticing?” Wanda continued to stalk towards you, like she was about to murder you.

“I swear to you both, I would never, ever, cheat on you guys. You’re both more than enough for me. You’re my home, I’d never jeopardize that.” You tried to convince your girlfriends to believe you, but they weren’t having it.

“Stop lying to us!” Wanda screamed out as she sent you flying back with a scarlet colored blast as she used her powers on you. Your back connected with the front door as you groaned. That was going to be a huge bruise later, for sure.

“I’m not lying. When have I ever lied to you both, huh? Why the fuck would I start now?” You asked exasperatedly as you stood up slowly. You cringed at the pain radiating from your back.

“And here you go again, more lies coming out of your slutty mouth. The fucking nerve you have, Why don’t you go and fuck whoever you’ve been seeing and leave us alone?” Natasha spoke as she moved forward, placing her hand firmly on Wanda’s waist.

Before you even have the chance to speak, Wanda opened the door with her powers and tossed you out of the apartment. She abruptly slammed the door in your face. Wanda and Nat’s angry, pain-filled faces and scarlet colored magic being the last things you saw before the door blocked your vision with a harsh slam.

You sat on the ground in front of the door in shock. They thought you were cheating on them. They didn’t want anything do with you now. What the fuck were you supposed to do now? What did this mean for your proposal? Should you cancel on the jeweler? Or should you hold out hope and pray that they’ll hear you out eventually?

All you did know was that your proposal had been ruined regardless. Whether you told them about your plans or not, the moment was doomed the minute they began to suspect cheating.

Withholding the information from them, caused them to push you away. But now that you look at it, if you had just told them about the proposal, you’d at least be in their arms right now and not on the floor of your apartment complex hallway with tears streaming down your face.

You were at a loss, and you didn’t know if you could gain back the trust of the women you loved.

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

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[mattiecrypt]

Starker Festivals Prompt: Fuck or Die Curse

Maybe it was Peter’s fault for pissing off Agatha for the last time. But he truly didn’t think a curse was actually going to happen, thinking she was just a crazy lady with delusions of powers. No matter if he knew an actual witch or not, he wasn’t going to believe any old person who said they were one!

That was his mistake. Now, he would rather sink into the Earth than deal with the situation in front of him.

“It’s a lust curse,” Wanda explains in front of Tony Stark, his mentor and long time crush, and himself, “Pretty much, if you don’t have… intercourse, you’ll die within the next four hours or so, your body slowly heating up to the point that it cooks you from the inside out. You actually got a good deal, most only get a single hour! But it might be because of your spider abilities that you are tolerating it so well.” Wanda smiles happily at him. “I would suggest calling your girlfriend.”

“Don’t have one.” He mumbles, hiding his face.

“What was that?” She asks.

“I don’t have a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. Or really anything, if I’m honest.” God he wants to die right now, “I’m still a… a virgin.”

Tony chokes beside him, the older man’s face turning red at those words with Wanda also getting a light red tone to her cheeks.

“Like, never?” She restates, “Aren’t you supposed to be a teenager?”

“I’m a superhero, okay!” Peter defends himself, “I don’t have time to have sex when I’m patrolling every night for Mr. Stark.”

“Well, you need to find someone. Anyone at this point, because you have four hours left. What kind of people are you into?” Wanda asks impatiently.

“I don’t know! Maybe uh… older men? Like Mr. Rogers?” Peter blushes through his statement, “I always had a crush on him when I was younger.”

“You are not going to be fucking Cap, Peter.” Tony finally says something, his anger completely apparent, “If you want an older man, you can have me.”

“You?” Peter squeaked.

“You?” Wanda started.

“Yes, now cmon kid, we gotta get you cooled down first and foremost.” Tony grabbed Peter’s arm, tugging him off the medical bench and towards his rooms. As soon as they’re in, Peter is expecting Tony to start putting down boundaries and everything he’s not gonna do in the name of helping Peter, but no.

Tony starts stripping immediately, looking at Peter pointedly when the boy doesn’t jump to do the same thing. The boy jumps to pull his clothes off, the heat of his curse starting to feel more than what he can handle.

He expects— well he’s not sure what to expect. But it’s not Tony grabbing him by the hand and wretching the water on cold before shoving the boy underneath it.

“To give us more time, just in case.” The older man offers, and he steps in before Peter can even get a glimpse of his… downstairs area. The teenager doesn’t even know if it’s better he does or doesn’t see— on one hand, it’ll be terrifying to know exactly what’s going inside him but not knowing is just as bad. He decides to live in unknown fear, stepping into the shower with his back to his mentor.

The cool water blasts on his heated body, forcing a sigh of relief through his lips as his temperature finally stops being so high. Peter knows it’s only a temporary fix, but it’s better to focus on the now than the stuff that’s coming up.

His body tenses on its own when he feels work-rough hands slide up his love-handles, sending a shiver through his body that is not from the cold water currently running down the spiderling’s chest. His cunt is soaked—from his own juices or the water he doesn’t know—and Peter had never been more glad he doesn’t have a dick more than right now. The idea of a visual representation of the effect this curse has on him— definitely not Tony at all, not the man he grew up masturbating to and writing “Peter Stark” over and over in his notebooks.

“Is it okay for me to touch you?” A gruff voice whispers into the boy’s ear, “I promise I know how to be gentle, if you want me to be.”

Peter finds himself nodding, the hands that contrast so well with Tony’s playboy lifestyle rubbing up and down his sides. Slowly making their way down to the feminine dips in the boy’s hips, pulling him closer to the man he looks up to so much.

“Do you want me to be gentle?” Tony kisses his neck, the rough scratch of his goatee surprising a moan out of his mentee, “I need to know what you want so I can help, Petey.”

“I just—“ Peter finally struggles out, “I want to be good for you.”

The warmth of an unmistakable erection rubs against the cleft of Peter’s ass, and Peter has always been good with numbers, deciding that it’s definitely at least seven inches pressing against him currently.

That’s not bad! He could take seven. Most bottoms did, right?

He lets his head roll back, resting his entire body against Tony’s, with his head comfortably perched on the bigger man’s shoulder. The man above him sighs, clutching the boy closer to his body as the hands drag further down until— oh.

Clever fingers are stroking between Peter’s folds and they feel so much more than Peter’s own. The boy immediately goes to close his legs around the man’s hand but Tony has always had fast reflexes, catching one of his legs and wretching it up, effectively keeping the boy spread out.

The palm of his rough hand rubs against Peter’s clit mercilessly while his fingers stroke over the boy’s entrance, the noises slick and almost sloppy, without ever entering the poor, already overwhelmed pussy.

“You’re being so good for me, Peter.” Is thrown in somewhere between the constant rush of cold water over Peter’s genitalia and the slick noises of his cunt being played with, and the spiderling can’t help but melt into Tony’s arms, finally letting his body go completely lax as Tony finally, finally slips a finger inside him.

“Fuck, Petey,” The man groans deep into his ear, “You’re so tight down here, I can’t believe this fucking gift. I’m not known for being a good man but you make me want to be one.” The boy sobs, pussy clenching hard around the intrusion as he orgasms from just one finger. His brain feels like jelly already, the water feeling hot to his skin as he realizes his skin is pink from the heat of the curse. How could they forget? Tony didn’t actually want him, he was just trying to make Peter feel comfortable.

Peter shrugs Tony off, putting both his feet on the ground before bending over. Pressing his hot cunt against the man’s erection while he tenses the rest of his body on his forearms, the cold tile a welcome feeling from his body’s temperature.

“Peter—“ Tony starts.

“Please?”

“Peter, you need more stretching, honey.”

“But Tony… Mr.Stark…” He whimpers, shaking his ass in an attempt to convince the man, “I need it now.”

He practically sobs in happiness when rough hands grip his hips again, the hot length prodding and sliding against where he needs it most. But doesn’t breach him, instead just rubbing against his leaking hole.

“Tony?” Peter slurs, looking back at the man with his big doe eyes, half-open and fluttery from lust.

“Oh fuck,” Tony grunts, “Keep looking at me baby boy, I wanna watch your expression when you’re stretched out on my cock for the first time.”

Peter barely has time to wonder what Tony meant by first time as he’s suddenly entered, his eyes struggling to shut but he keeps them open as Tony told him to. The man is rough as he thrusts inside the tight cunt that his mentee so willingly gave up to him, the heat surrounding his length burning but he ignores it. Ignores it because he’s a dirty old man who started this because it would save his prodigy’s life but now he just wants to fuck the boy below him.

Who looks at him like he hung the stars and moon in the sky just for the boy, and has the same look as Peter drools mercilessly, face blanked out with pleasure that Tony was giving him.

He pounded deeper into the boy, pulling almost completely out before shoving himself back in with a single deep stroke, the copious amount of slick pouring out of Peter plenty for an easy time thrusting.

“T-tony,” Peter begged, “Cumming, wanna cum, please let me cum?”

Tony almost passed out right then, the idea of his boy begging permission to cum enough for him to explode inside right then and there, his hand shakily making its way between Peter’s legs to rub at his swollen clit while Tony’s cock gave its all inside. A few more small spurts of cum before it was softening, slipping out and letting a torrent of cum and slick follow out. Swirling around the drain prettily before disappearing.

It only took a few more strokes before Peter was cumming too, his entire body shivering from the sudden feeling of cold.

Tony was quick to grab up the curseless boy, wrapping him up in a fluffy bathrobe and falling into bed together, exhausted. Typically, you would talk about your relationship before sex, but Tony has never been someone to do something typical. He would ask the boy to be his when they woke up.