#I’m only on the fourth role so far and he does sad/angry so fucking well

[mossiestpiglet]

The best thing about Val Pearson is that he’s the only actually happy character I’ve seen Con play so far because Jesus fuck is everything else sad and dark and angry

[starkerforlife6969]

A View from the Bridge

TW: Pseudo Incest (Tony raised Peter even though they aren’t blood related), Dark Tony, overly controlling/possessive/protective Tony, humiliation kink, unhinged Tony, innocent/naive Peter, dub/non con kink, abuse of power, manipulation and guilt, codependency, daddy kink, abusive relationship. Watch out for this one, beautiful people, Tony and Peter’s relationship is not healthy. 

Dedicated to @darker-soft-starker. She is...she is perfect. I love you! x

Alcohol.

It burns, sweet or fire, whichever you prefer. It gives you freedom. It makes some people rich. Sometimes it makes you think things, feel things that maybe oughta have stayed buried.

For Tony Stark, alcohol does all these things.

His scotch, right off the boat, burns like hellfire as he knocks it back. Normally, he’d savour it, but he has no room for taste right now. The smell of cigars, the easy brass of the jazz music and the pretty girls serving soft drinks, if anyone asks, is enough for him. He can taste the atmosphere on every inhale.

Alcohol has made him rich. A few deals with foreign importers here, a large number of properties all in his name there, and he’s a name known all around New York.

He pushes the glass away, and immediately a girl with deep red lipstick picks it up. “Are you headin’ home for the night, Mr Stark?” She purrs disappointedly, and Tony can’t summon the energy to wink at her. To pull out a one-liner that’ll have her swooning for sure. Instead he nods tightly, and heads for the door.

Rogers and Barnes nod at him, earnest loyalty in their eyes, but Tony knows all of that already. Some people have his back. Besides, he’s not opposed to pulling a few triggers here and there if they didn’t.

The night air sobers him as he drives home. The stars are hidden behind clouds, and he keeps thinking, keeps feeling things that he knows he shouldn’t be.

He lives out of a penthouse suite in a grand hotel, and as he pulls up, a sweet voice calls to him.

“Tony! You’re home!”

He can’t help his smile. It’s the first real thing all night. He looks up, and sure enough, Peter is leaning over the balcony, waving him to; giddy with glee. Tony can’t make out all his delicate features, just his sharp silhouette against the night, the disarray of his curls.

It has him swiftly making his way up to his room.

The whole of the fifteenth floor is his. It’s amazing what places will do to have something real to serve their guests.

As soon as he opens the door, Peter flings himself into his arms, and Tony buries his nose in those perfect curls, lets his hands grab possessively at that cream skin. “I missed you! Did you have fun? I have news!” Says the sweet voice.

The alcohol is still in his blood. It makes the thoughts he tries to keep way down rise up. He wants to snarl, wants to claim Peter’s plush pink lips in a cruel kiss. He wants the boy spread out on top of him, he wants-

As quickly as the thoughts come, they go, and leave only a sense of guilt and mild horror.

“I had a fine time, sweetheart. What do you wanna tell me?”

“Not yet, not yet!” Peter insists through a girlish laugh, tugging Tony by the wrist through the penthouse suite. “You sit, I’ll fix you a drink- some coffee?”

He nods, and he can’t wipe the smile off his face. Peter puts that smile there without even trying. He watches unabashedly as the boy flits around the little kitchen unit. He’s in his night clothes- white silk shorts and one of Tony’s old button-ups. Those long, slim legs are on display- Tony wants them wrapped around his hips-

Peter fusses with the mugs, and Tony hums as he notices Peter’s excitement. The boy’s practically vibrating with energy. It’s past midnight. The boy’s stayed up for him. When the coffee’s set down, Peter perches opposite Tony and watches with huge, honey eyes.

He chuckles, and takes a sip. “C’mon then, let it out.”

“I’ve been offered a job!” Peter exclaims in a rush, and Tony feels like all the breath has been punched right out of him.

No. No. “A job?” He manages, a little weakly, trying to hide his emotions into his coffee. “You haven’t even finished school yet, baby.” He shakes his head.

Peter stumbles over his words with effusive enthusiasm. “No, no, but that’s the thing! I went to school today and-and Mr Jenkins pulls me out of class- he says Millbanks is looking for a stenographer! And-and it’s not a secretary role yet, but Mr Jenkins said it could easily lead to one, and because he thinks I’m the best in the class- he’s put me up for it! Oh, Tony, it looks amazing!”

Something horrible is pulling at Tony’s heart. Trying to wrench it out of place. “Sweetheart, no,” he says patiently, even as Peter stares at him hopefully. “You need to get your qualification. That’s what I’m putting you through school for.”

“But just listen, Mr Stark!” Peter pleads, and Tony digs his nails into the ceramic. Peter only calls him that when he’s desperate for something. When he really wants it. It was a habit the boy had when he first came to Tony. Five years old and all alone in the world, and Tony had promised to take him in. Because he’d known May, they were childhood sweethearts growing up, and then friends into adulthood. That little boy had been absolutely tiny, and had cried himself to sleep most nights and asked, whisper-quiet, “Is this my new home, Mr Stark?” “Mr Jenkins said I could work there, and at the end of the year- still do my exams! I’ll still get my qualification, but I’ll already have a job!”

“But-no.” Tony chokes, “where-where is this Millbank? It sounds too far, I couldn’t have you making that journey-“

“It’s just on fourth!” Peter says brightly, his perfect curls falling into his eyes. “Oh, please! I could walk there everyday, and it’s-“ he drops his voice excitedly into a whisper, “and it’s fifty whole dollars a week.”

He can’t school his emotions then. He’s surprised by the amount. Peter sees it and has renewed hope.

“I could be earning money, Tony! I could- I could buy you those coffee beans you like, the proper ones! And-“

“Well, what for?” He cuts his boy off, “I’ve never asked you for any money, have I?”

Peter falters, and Tony tries to gentle his voice. His desperation is coming across as anger, and he’s not angry, never angry with Peter.

“Have I, baby?” He prompts. 

The gorgeous little thing shakes his head slowly, no words coming out.

“Millbank- stenography. I just don’t know, sweetheart. It’s a cruel world out there, I want you to stay in school. I want you to be a secretary at the biggest company in New York, not just a stenographer for a little old place. That’s what I’m paying for, isn’t it? All those tutors I hired for you, all the time I spent working to keep you well-fed and happy, to have all the books you’ve ever wanted- don’t I do that for you?”

His boy wilts hesitantly. “Y-yes.”

“I don’t need you going out there, walking to work- Peter, baby, you’re so young. You’re only seventeen, you’re so naive, you have no idea what the world’s like. You think you could just walk to work everyday? Don’t you know what the men would do when they saw your sweet little face? They’d eat you alive. They take advantage of pretty things like you, Peter, and you’re too trusting- you won’t know any better when they lure you over- bend you over and-“ his breaths are coming in short, furious pants. Tony’s worked himself up now, he can picture it, he can see it, the way those workers down on seventh would grope at Peter’s lovely skin- force their way inside- Peter’s helpless little mewls, his gorgeous cries-

He seethes with anger, even as he twitches in his pants.

Peter lets out a distressed sound. There are tears in those huge eyes, and Tony immediately moves around the table, reaching for him. “Don’t cry,” he beseeches, because he never ever wants Peter to be sad. “Don’t cry, sweetheart, I’m just telling you how it is.” He cradles Peter’s face in his hands. “I want to keep you safe. You’re not ready for a job, yet-“

“B-but-“ Peter starts sobbing, the delicate thing he is. He always has been. “Mr J-Jenkins said I w-was best in the class, I thought you’d be- I thought you’d be proud of me, T-Tony, I never meant to-to- make you upset, I won’t take it if you don’t want me to,” his boy hiccups, and Tony pulls him in for a hug and closes his eyes.

Fuck. Fuck. He tries to steady his breathing. He doesn’t want to deny Peter anything, and he knows, he knows he’s not being rational. “I am proud of you, baby,” he promises, kissing Peter’s crown. “I’m not surprised, I’ve always known you were the best in your class, haven’t I always said that? You practise your typing so much, and you’re smart as a whip, sweetheart, I know how brilliant you are. That’s how I know you can be a secretary at any place in New York- they’d be lucky to have you, but…” guilt eats at him, and he forces down his own desire. “But if you’ve got your heart set on Millbank…”

Peter pulls back with a gasp, and stares at Tony like he hung the moon in the sky. “Really?” He chokes, and Tony smiles sadly, and nods.

“Really, baby.” He promises, brushing Peter’s curls from his face. “But you’ve gotta promise me you’ll stop being so trusting of everyone. Your innocence- honey, they’ll eat you alive. You gotta be wary. Vigilant, okay?”

“Okay, okay, I will!” Peter pledges, slipping down onto his knees in gratitude and burying his face into Tony’s thigh, “thank you! Thank you, thank you! I’ll work so hard, I promise! And I’ll spend all the money on things for you- like-like those ties you like, and cufflinks, and maybe fish for dinner!”

Tony massages Peter’s neck, and stares down at his boy. His cock is a little hard in his pants, and Peter’s mouth is so close- the boy is so clueless, so unaware-

“I’m sure you will,” he manages, shaking his head. “Then you’ll wanna move out. Make it on your own, leave me-“

Peter stares up at him in horror. “No! No never!”

“Sure you will,” Tony mutters bitterly, draining the rest of his coffee. “I only took you in, raised you, gave you everything you could ever need- worked like hell to put you through school- and now you’ve gone and got a job. Fifty dollars a week.” He scoffs, shaking his head again. “You’ll rent your own little place, closer to work. You’ll never see me. You’ll forget everything I did for ya. Everything I gave for ya. Taking you in like you were my own flesh and blood-“

“No, Tony, no!” Peter weeps, lashes clumping together with tears as he clenches his little fingers into Tony’s slacks. “I won’t ever, I won’t ever leave you, I promise! Oh, don’t be- don’t be mad at me, I can’t bear it.” He sobs, and Tony brushes those tears away, torn between wanting to make his boy feel better, and wanting to hear more, more promises, more vows, more oaths that Peter won’t ever leave him. “I won’t take it, you don’t want me to, I won’t-“

“No, no,” he mutters, forcing a gentle smile. “I want you to take it. It’ll be great experience, you’ll be earning money, I just…I get so worried about you, baby. I’m just scared, that’s all, that you’ll leave me.”

“Never. Never.” Peter vows, and Tony savours the promise. Tastes every drop of Peter’s devotion.

It’s divine.

*** Alcohol rules in the night.

Consequently, that’s when Tony does most of his work. Sure, he has a few shipments to deal with in the daylight hours, a few people that need to be paid off, others to intimidate, police to charm or bribe, or sometimes both.

But on Monday morning he’s awake, reading the paper at the breakfast table. Wanda, their private maid, is polishing the little diamond hangers on the chandelier.

When Peter walks in, Tony feels his entire world shift.

The boy is in tight, grey trousers- it shows off every single curve of his shapely thighs, sits snug on his hips- chiffon, expensive. And paired with it is a salmon pink satin shirt, all buttoned up neat and tucked in, and Peter is bright-eyed, with his rosy cheeks and untameable hair.

“What,” Tony breathes, “is that?”

Peter beams, smoothing down the shirt. “It’s my work outfit! Do you like it?”

It’s gorgeous. “Turn around, baby,” he instructs, “let me see.”

Peter spins, and sure enough, his plump little ass is hugged by the material. Tony wants to reach out and- his thoughts turn darker, and he’s knitting his eyebrows together in displeasure.

Other men will see Peter. They’ll want him. They’ll- “You can’t wear that.” He snaps, angry with himself and with the outfit. Angry with how much it makes him want the boy who might as well be his son.

Peter blinks in surprise, and looks down at himself worriedly. “Why not?”

“Because.” Tony grunts, turning back to his newspaper because he can’t bear to look. He can’t tear his eyes away. “Only one type of person walks down the street in somethin’ like that. The shirt’s practically see-through.”

Peter giggles, waving him off as he sits at the table. “That’s the fashion nowadays, old man. Right, Wanda?”

The woman hums and polishes another diamond piece. “I think you look very handsome, Peter.” She drawls.

Tony glares at her over the headlines. “Of course he’s handsome.” Tony says snippily, “he’s a beautiful boy. But there’s only one type of boy or girl that walks down the streets like that- teases. People’ll talk about you. That you like certain things.”

“I don’t mind gossip,” Peter beams beautifully, reaching for some jam for his toast. “I know not to pay attention to that, Tony, don’t w-“

Tony grabs Peter’s wrist before the boy can reach for his jam. “You’re not wearing that.” He grits out. His voice is steel. There’s no room for argument.

Peter whimpers, tugging his hand out of Tony’s iron grip. “But you bought it for me-“

“I didn’t raise you to dress like a brothel-worker. I don’t let you work at my speakeasies for a reason, but now I see you wouldn’t mind parading around in a little skirt- letting men leer at you- you like that- after everything I’ve done, all the work I’ve put into making sure you have all you need to succeed-“

“Everyone dresses like this.” Peter whispers, but his eyes are down-cast and ashamed.

He disappears into his bedroom and Tony buries his face in his hands.

What’s wrong with him?

“He cannot be your baby bird forever.” Wanda murmurs wisely, moving to wipe down the counters. “You have helped him grow in your palm, but now he wishes to fly. You are crushing him in your grasp.”

The thought of Peter flying away makes his heart beat out of rhythm. “But…” he tries, and Wanda shakes her head.

“It is natural, Mr Stark. It is life.”

He goes into Peter’s bedroom.

His boy is shirtless, standing in front of the wardrobe and going through his clothes. He’s letting out these little sniffles, and Tony’s heart breaks.

Peter’s crying.

“My sweet boy,” Tony whispers, and Peter whirls around, only for Tony to haul him into a tight embrace. A crushing grasp. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You’re just growing up so fast, I’m- I’m so frightened.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter sniffles, nuzzling into the crook of Tony’s neck. “I don’t want- I don’t want to ruin your reputation by dressing like a-“

“No. You wouldn’t. You could never.” He reaches for the abandoned satin shirt, and holds it up as a peace offering. “You looked absolutely beautiful, Petey. Please, wear it today.”

Peter looks up at him warily. “I don’t have to,” he says, wiping his cheeks, “I have a sweater that-“

“Baby, please.” Tony implores, and Peter smiles.

“O-Okay.”

Tony puts the shirt on for him, his fingertips grazing Peter’s flawless skin. He watches as goosebumps erupt from his touch. When Peter turns around, Tony does up his buttons. Slowly. Their breath mingles together this close, and he goes out of his way for his knuckles to brush Peter’s nipples, just so he can hear the little squeak Peter makes.

“There,” Tony whispers, breathless, “just need to tuck it in.”

Peter doesn’t move, not even when Tony’s hands grasp the ends of the shirt and slide into Peter’s tight pants, smoothing it down. He feels the delicious curve of Peter’s ass, and then around to the front, where the ends of his fingers graze the small bulge-

“Peter,” Wanda calls, and Peter jumps away. “You’re going to be late!”

“Right,” Peter gulps, cheeks stained red, “bye- Tony, I-“ and then the boy is gone.

Tony feels drunk.

* He settles into Peter working in a way he never thought he would.

But the boy goes to work, flourishes and learns, and comes home and they eat dinner together, just like old times.

Peter still waits at the balcony, and then hurls himself into Tony’s arms when he walks through the door. He still looks at Tony with worship in his eyes. He never goes out past curfew, and he’s still the sweetest thing Tony’s ever known.

He comes home to see new rugs, new records, more expensive coffee grounds each week, as Peter tries to repay Tony with his salary.

Tony tells the boy to save his money, but Peter won’t hear it.

Tony doesn’t mind really, though. If the boy doesn’t save, it just means he won’t have a deposit to move away.

But then, one morning, when Tony takes Peter out for brunch at a little terrace cafe to bask in the sunshine- a man approaches.

He’s cousins with one of the girls Peter works with. He’s from Europe. He’s tall and handsome, and Tony watches with fury in his blood, as Peter blushes under the attention.

He bribes the waitress into bringing him some wine from his private stash.

Roderigo is charming and talented, and he looks at Peter with honest, open eyes, and Tony hates him.

“With your permission, Señor Stark,” Roderigo says respectfully, “could I take Peter to the pictures tonight? The American pictures, there’s none better in the world.”

“Peter has a curfew.” He says tightly, and Peter gives him a pleading look.

“Tony, please! I’ll be back before midnight, I-I promise!”

The urge to ravish Peter is as strong as the urge to deny the boy nothing. So, he nods.

* He stays up. He doesn’t leave the hotel. And sure enough, at ten to midnight, Peter comes in through the door.

His lips are swollen and he’s alight with the ecstasy of a good time.

“Did he treat you right?” Tony asks, as lightly as he can, though he thinks some of his true colours bleed through.

Peter looks bashful. “He’s nice. Funny.”

“You can do better than funny, Pete. You’re young yet, kid. Ain’t no rush.”

“Mhm,” Peter hums, swaying into his bedroom, eyes cloudy with young love.

Tony’s finger itches for a trigger.

* It’s a few weeks later, when Peter comes in through the door, merry and elated.

Tony stands up so harshly his chair clatters to the ground, and Wanda stops whistling, and focuses only on sweeping the floors.

“Where the hell were you last night?” he demands, and Peter stares at him with big, whiskey eyes.

“I- I thought you were going out of tow-“

“Peter.” Tony growls, his voice low and warning. But he already knows. Peter’s clothes are rumpled. His neck splotchy and red. “You were a little so and so, huh? Giving it up for him? That it?”

Peter looks aghast, and he trembles. “No, no, I didn’t! I would never! It was just raining and he let me stay- he slept on the floor, dad, really he did.”

Dad. Tony hates the word and cherishes it. It’s not the first time Peter’s accidentally called him that, but it’s been a long while. Plus, the relief that’s coursing through him is palpable. A better buzz than being drunk. Peter, his perfect boy, he wouldn’t sleep with some immigrant. Wouldn’t give it up to a European fiend. “I don’t want you seeing him anymore.”

Peter looks at him; astonished. “What? No,” he laughs, shaking his head, “no, we’re- I love him, Tony.”

Anger takes over. His hands curl into fists. “You love him?” He spits, “how could you love him, Pete? Are you that stupid, that fuckin’ naive?”

Peter looks up at him through those long curls, eyes wide and afraid. “What do you mean?” He quivers.

“He’s an illegal, Peter. He just wants you for his status, can’t you see that? It’s what that sort do. He doesn’t love you-“

“He does love me!” Peter insists, even as his voice trembles. “And I love him.”

It’s like Tony’s being shot. “Stop sayin’ that, baby!” He demands, staggering. He’s bleeding out. “You’re just some papers to them. It’s what they do- find innocent, stupid little things like you- just pretty slips of American with no brain, they find ‘em, then they charm them and marry them for their papers, and you’ll never see him again.”

Peter wavers, his eyes impossibly wide. “No…” he whispers, but he sounds less certain than before. “Roderigo never…he never even talks about his papers.”

Tony laughs meanly, and Peter cringes away. “What? You expect him to talk about them openly?”

Peter starts crying. But they’re furious tears. “He’s not! He’s not, you’re wrong!”

“Ah, of course,” Tony turns away from him, “I’ve just done everything for you your whole, ungrateful life, but you won’t listen to me. This is my house, but I don’t get any respect at all!”

Normally, Peter flings himself at Tony when he says it. Pleads for forgiveness. Insists how much he appreciates how much Tony’s done for him.

This time, Peter glares at him, eyes wet with injustice.

“Then I’ll move out.”

Tony can’t see. He can’t hear. He can’t think. Peter disappears into his bedroom, but Tony just collapses onto the couch and tries to remember how to breathe. Move out. Peter could move out. He has a job- he has a man he loves- Roderigo works- leave Tony, Peter could- his beautiful boy out there- alone in the world- to be taken advantage of- to be ravished, to be used- by people who aren’t Tony-

He jerks to awareness suddenly, and realises he’s fallen asleep.

The penthouse is dark with late evening, and he sits up; groaning.

The light in Peter’s bedroom is on, and he can hear voices.

He gets up slowly, and peaks through the crack in the door.

Peter’s sitting on the bed, crying, and Wanda is beside him, rubbing his back.

Tony feels guilt eat him whole.

“It’s not true,” Peter says, as his hands shake, “Roderigo- he loves me- Wanda, I know he does-“

“Peter,” she whispers, “no man has ever been good enough. Tony will not find any man good enough. He would find fault with all. Even a prince. He lies. He’s…you come to love that which you care for. But sometimes that love turns sour. You have to go.”

“But what he said- about Roderigo- about the papers-“

“He was lying. He will say anything.” Wanda promises, and Tony feels sick. “Peter, he treats you like a baby because you act like a baby.”

Peter blinks at her. “What?”

“You walk around in nothing but your night clothes, Peter.”

The boy blushes, “but- I’ve always done that-“

“But you are an adult now. You are beautiful, darling, and you parade yourself around half-naked in front of a man who is not your blood.”

“Oh.” Peter whispers, cheeks red.

“I see you sitting on the sink as he shaves. When he is in only his underwear.”

“I have- stuff to tell him when he’s getting ready.” Peter mutters. “I’m only-“

“You run into his arms every night as if you were still eight years old. You act like a baby, so he treats you like his baby. You have to grow up if you want to fly. You must go with Roderigo. Marry, make mistakes. It will not be easy, but-“

Peter flinches as if struck with a sudden thought. “You want me to just leave Tony? After everything he’s done for me- he’s the reason I- he’s- I know he’s been different lately, but he just cares about me, Wanda. I love him, he’s- he’s the best part of my life- he makes me happier than anyone ever could.”

Wanda mutters something Tony can’t hear under her breath. “You need to go, Peter.” She says finally, “before Tony keeps you in his grasp forever.”

Peter stares at her, looking young and stubborn. “What if that’s not so bad?”

She hisses at him. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You can’t see how dangerous that would be- he thinks he owns you, Peter-“

Peter looks like the world is dawning on him. “And what if I want to be owned? What if I want to be his baby- forever?”

Alcohol could never induce this. This hope. This dream. Tony could die now and he would die happy.

“That is- sick.” Wanda gasps, looking distraught. “With Roderigo, it would be normal- you could be happy-“

“Go.” Is all Peter says, and Tony retreats back into the darkness.

Whatever’s happening now is out of his hands.

*

Peter doesn’t come out of his room for the rest of the day.

Tony has to go down to the docks, and then visit the speakeasy. When he gets back to the hotel that night, the doorman smiles at him, and informs him that Wanda has moved away. That there’ll be a new maid come the weekend.

It gives Tony hope.

When he gets up to his room, he takes a breath before pushing it open.

Instantly, he has an arm full of Peter, and he chuckles and holds his boy tight.

“You’re home!” Peter exclaims, “I’ve made dinner, c’mon, c’mon- I missed you!”

Tony kicks the door shut, and lets himself be dragged.

Peter’s in a dark pink silk teddy. He’s all on display. Tony prickles all over, can barely contain himself with excitement.

The coffee’s already brewed, so he sits down, and looks across the table at his boy.

His neck is blemish free.

“I quit my job, daddy,” he whispers, and Tony’s cock spurts unexpectedly into his pants. Fuck. Fuck. “I think you’re right, I should focus on school.”

“Good job, baby,” he breathes, watching as Peter reaches out to touch Tony’s free hand. To run his tiny fingers across Tony’s darker, tanned forearm. “I knew you’d do the right thing. You’re such a smart boy.”

Peter beams, cheeks flushed a gentle pink. “Your smart boy.”

“Absolutely.” Tony agrees. He can’t look away. He’s on edge. He wants to know what happens next.

He feels drunk and he hasn’t had a drop. “Tell me, daddy,” Peter whispers, as his fingers stroke Tony’s hand, “tell me what the bad men would do if I went out in this?”

Tony growls, deep and guttural. “They’d ruin you, sweetheart,” he says hoarsely, “god, you’d be a wreck. A little lamb to slaughter, they would destroy you. Two, three, four at a time, all of you put to good use. Finally.”

Peter lets out a wanton whimper, and then slides to his knees. He crawls between Tony’s legs and Tony leans back, sets down his coffee, and just stares at everything he’s wanted. “But you would never let that happen.” Peter whispers, voice thick with desire, as he mouths wetly over Tony’s crotch.

Tony’s so hard he feels like he might combust. Peter is a vision. “I would kill anyone who dared touch you.” He confesses, as Peter’s tongue laps at his trousers, tracing the outline of Tony’s thick cock. “Then I’d ruin you myself. Flip you over, drag you onto my cock, that’s all you’re good for, baby. Maybe I’d let them watch- give ‘em something to see before I killed them. I’ve done everything for you, so you’ll take it without complaint, won’t you? Just spread your legs when I tell you, just drool for me. You owe me that.”

Peter’s panting desperately, squirming, and he reaches for Tony’s belt. “And tell me- tell me why I can’t work in your speakeasy daddy, please.”

“Fuck,” Tony grunts, head tossing back as Peter takes him in his mouth. He looks down through hooded eyes, finally, finally, to see his baby boy with his gorgeous lips stretched around Tony’s dick. “You wouldn’t last a day in my bar, baby. Everyone’s hands sliding up your skirt- no underwear, that’s for sure, everyone would want easy access to your greedy little hole- oh you’d cry, beg for me to make ‘em stop, but I’d have to let them have their fun, honey.” He jerks his hips forward and Peter chokes, his eyes dazed and desperate for more. “And if the cops ever busted us, well,” he chuckles, smoothing his thumbs across Peter’s cheeks, coming to trace those lips, to force his fingers inside Peter’s hot, wet mouth next to his cock, to feel the boy gag. “I’d just let ‘em have a few rounds on you.”

Peter lets out a muffled wail, and Tony shushes him.

“Of course, I don’t think I could share. Not you. Not my boy.”

With a wet pop, he pulls Peter off, and lifts his boy easily into his lap. Peter’s legs spread wide across Tony’s thighs and Tony breathes him in.

“This is all I’ve wanted for so long,” he confesses into the hollow of his boy’s neck.

“What are you waiting for?” Peter whispers, hands tangling into Tony’s hair. “Take it.”

Tony does.

[bluboothalassophile]

I honestly don't understand DC always trying to undermine Raven's powers. I read the current comics that she's in and it is so poorly written and boring. They suck at character development and its so fucked up that she's always brushed aside. And also I'll never forgive them for killing Roy and they keep fucking up Jason. These guys went through a lot and I just wanna see them be happy and I want to see more batfamily moments and team ups like in Batman and Robin Eternal.

Hello,

Reasons I am mad about Canon Raven:

She’s ALWAYS depowered; always, and she is literally the very definition of an over powered character. 

When they attempt to over power her again they fuck it up; like in Titans with Raven’s ‘telepathy’; she’s a fucking empath! NEVER has she been a telepath!

She has never been utilized outside of the Titans; which is infuriating on many levels. Because she needs to go solo; with a big comic or go to JL Dark or hell, team her up with Lucifer! I don’t know, but something outside of the fucking Titans!

Her solo series, while hold much promise are always cut short, or tie into nothing about her canon life.

They just severed her connection with her aunt and cousins, further isolating her again.

I am royally pissed that her connection with Victor Stone, a.k.a. Cyborg, (which I think is canonly her BEST familiar relationship EVER, their dynamic is amazing; it’s also an amazing dynamic for Victor too! So why was it cut!?) has been severed, was briefly rekindled only to be discarded again.

She’s always de-aged; sorry @chromium7sky, but I really hate that because I really think she should be about Jason and Tim’s age, hell, I’d even settle her being Dick’s age, just enough de-aging her! At this rate; and I’m sorry @impulse-goblin, she’ll be a RobRae with Carrie Kelley or Matt McGinnis! Which is so not okay because DC is screwing her over royally.

Marv, her creator, can no longer write her well to be engaging; which is sad.

She’s been royally dumbed down; which really fucking pisses me off, because even though N52 SUCKED BALLS, Raven, while bitchy, was always eager to learn; it’s one of her defining traits! She’s super smart, she’s engaging, she’s empathetic and kind, and rebirth has made it so she struggles with school. -.- Explain that to me, please, she’s never been stupid or struggled learning before. And I get trying to connect with modern readers, and making characters relateable, but that was just plain fucking stupid. There are other characters you can do that with, using Raven does not help in anyway.

I will not get into my issues with N52, there’s many, but mainly: WTF is up with Raven’s Entire Personality!? I mean don’t get me wrong, I loved the design she had, and I loved her on Tim’s team, also their entire friendship was amazing, but WTF, what a Bitch. I wanted to smack her.

They either forget she is a magic user, or they forget she’s a demon with demon abilities or something, but it always seems like one or the other is missing with her.

Off side key irritation too: How come her father doesn’t play a larger part of the DC universe and getting heroes to fear him? I mean come on! Titans plays him up to be like Darksied or Lucifer level of terrifying, and the DC universe: Who’s Trigon? WTF is that about!? You want the Only Daughter Of Trigon to have meaning, to show her power, then why the fuck isn’t Trigon more widely known and feared!? Come On People! We have Darksied’s ENTIRE Family feared, but you want to play Trigon off as eviler than Darksied but the entire DC universe outside Titans is like: Who the Fuck is Trigon!?

Kay, Metal hinted at her connection and importance to the Multiverse, but the DC, I don’t know… Forgot? And somehow the entire reason for her being captured, isolated and singled out by the Batman Who Laughed was forgotten. Granted my favorite panel of her and Victor happened because of that, but seriously; MAJOR PLOT HOLE DC! Come on, we aren’t Marvel, cease these plot holes in your big labels! Be grown ups!

Mainstream Raven hurts my Raven loving heart. But her counterparts are pretty cool, like on Earth 1 or Bombshells or the recent Titans movies, definitely liked her in the Titans live action show, and obviously I loved her in the cartoon; not Titan’s Go as that has helped in destroy her and the Titans. 

Now, my issues with Heroes Crisis:

King. Fucking cock teasing bastard tormented us with BatCat for over a year, getting them to the fucking alter then he did that fucking stunt; hell yes I am pissed still, and I am no less angry going into Heroes Crisis.

Kay, now for real.

I have major issues with the plot, thus far, because there doesn’t seem to be one.

Killing Roy and Wally did nothing to further a plot, or even engage in the plot and has just furthered to hurting surrounding characters.

Killing Roy was fucked up and senseless; as a writer I find that appalling.

Killing Wally was unnecessary; especially after all the fucking trouble we had gone through to get that speedster back! I mean COME ON! It’s like you brought him back solely to kill him off, and if that’s the case, someone smack a brain into King’s fucking head.

While the premise of Heroes Crisis was engaging and interesting to read the idea for it, it has been a dismal affair.

Why the fuck are your only suspects Harley Quinn and Micheal Carter, a.k.a. Booster Gold? No seriously want to explain that!? 

There is NO WAY Harley would ever hurt or kill Ivy, just no, and DC I don’t care about trying to cater to people and convincing all of Harley and Ivy are straight, it just wouldn’t happen. Ivy and Harley are in love, and I sincerely doubt, that despite EVERYTHING Harley has done in her life, that she would ever kill the woman she loved.

Also, Micheal Carter has selflessly saved the timeline multiple times, and done so without recognition. Yes, he can be full of himself, but where the hell did King come to the conclusion that Carter was a sociopathic narcissist? Someone please explain the basics of human nature to King; PLEASE! For the love of God, someone! I expect this crap from Lobell!

Now to my fury with the Batfamily in it’s current state:

Rebirth presented us with fairly healthy dynamics between the Batfamily members; which was refreshing as all get out, but now… I’d like to rip DC’s heart out and shove it up their ass for what they’ve done.

First, they allowed King to be the ultimate cock tease! Bastard built up the fucking BatCat wedding to be the wedding of the goddamn century; going to make comic history! And he fucks us over like we’re a two cent whore whilst simultaneously destroying the Batfamily.

Second: who the fuck even ALLOWED Lobdell into DC again to write!? I mean really!? Did you asshole not learn your lesson the first time!?

Third, wtf is up with Ric Grayson; I get it, we’re all exceedingly immature for taking an actually socially acceptable nickname from the 1930′s and perverting it into penis jokes. But news flash, Dick’s character has evolved with taking that in stride and laughing it off. Changing his name only pisses us off and furthers our desires to make dick jokes. 

Fourth: What the fuck are you guys even doing allowing Lobdell near Jason? I get it Lobdell is some ‘big shot’ good ‘big name to have on a comic’ but his writing is shit, I’ve read better stories from Kindergartners. Lobdell is like the Russo brothers of DC, please remove him from our premise, and I petition for us, the fans, to take custody of Jason from Lobdell for the sake of global comic peace. The Dude Can Not For The Love Of God Write. I’m surprised he even knows how to arrange letters on a piece of paper to form words honestly.

Why aren’t Duke and Cass B’s kids? No seriously? Why!? We all know those are his favorite two kids, so wtf are they doing… anywhere else but with the Bats?

Why is Babs Batgirl? Don’t go with that female empowering crap answer, just don’t, she was a better icon as Oracle than as Batgirl. She’s long since outgrown the role, and she had grown beautifully into the role of Oracle, so run this by me again: Why did we take a beautiful survivor, who created empowerment for people with disabilities while remaining a strong female lead and turn her back into Batgirl? Seriously? Someone explain that to me!?

Thank God DC hasn’t fucked up Tim yet, but Can We Please Stop With Evil Batman Tim!? Tim doesn’t even want to be Batman! He Never Has Wanted To Be Batman!

WTF did you do with Damian’s character development? He is not this baby raging Bat anymore who seeks to kill everyone who crosses him. Also what the hell was up with the whole Dami’s got a secret prison thing? That lead to nothing and has since been dropped, but seriously people, who is the lead brain in DC right now allowing this shit!?

Again, I must ask, what’s up with evil Bat futures; have we NO HOPE that these boys can grow up and actually be decent people!? Really. I want to know. I don’t get the options you’ve given these heroes.

Why does B have a double standard when it comes to Kate and Jason; and don’t say it’s because Jason’s killed, Damian’s killed and B is trying to be a good dad to him, so what’s up with this shit!? Is it really so much easier to have the rift between B and Jay than attempt to amend it!? If B has a problem with Jason using guns then the same problem should be applied to Kate; I don’t care about her likability, she’s a bitch and the double standard should cease.

And why is Jason trying to connect with Willis Todd? Willis was an abuse fucker or did Lobdell for get his own canon material again? Someone please remove Lobdell from DC premises! PLEASE! Send him to Marvel or something, I don’t care, but stop allowing him to fuck over Jason because he wants to!

Now, again, I’m brought to the double standards B has and his own reckless behavior. DC please, either find a ethics and morals person to join your writing team, or grow a fucking brain because you are precariously close to having Batman become the killer and the villain.

Why are we isolating the Bats again, when they were so connected at the start of Rebirth? I want to read about the Batfamily BEING A Family! Not this divide and pit against each other crap. 

The worst part of all this is, Rebirth actually started off great! Now it’s a flaming pile of wreckage and I almost wish we’d go back to N52 if only to stop watching the same trainwreck over and over happen.

[longsightmyth]

Myth reads The Naming, Chapter 20

Welp I’m just gonna post the one I have and deal with the (possible) schedule in the morning. That’s just who I am as a person I guess.

PELLINOR

Just because they can see Norloch doesn’t mean they’re there yet though. In fact, it takes four days (one night of which is spent in an inn, where a fellow bard stitches up the wounds on Cadvan’s face) before they reach the city itself. The vale of Norloch is pretty, prosperous, and heavily gardened. Our heroes ride through the gates of the city proper just before they close and just before the storm hits.

To be completely honest, if you picture Minas Tirith as portrayed in the LotR movies, you’ve got a good idea of Norloch. There are nine levels, each with their own winding ways and gates of entry. Thankfully only the outer gate closes at sundown, so they can ride up to the fourth circle without being challenged as it starts to drizzle. The guard recognizes Cadvan and lets them through. They get through the gate to the first circle just as the rain really hits. Cadvan leads the way to Nelac’s house, who lets them in promptly.

Maerad saw that Cadvan suddenly looked exhausted and gray, as if he’d been holding himself together by sheer will and now, having reached his goal, was on the verge of collapse.

I know that feel, Cadvan.

Cadvan makes the barest of introductions (basically he tosses out that they’re Maerad and Cai of Pellinor, and Nelac is just like ‘why not at this point’) as Nelac helps Cadvan into a living room, where Saliman has apparently beaten them to Nelac’s house. I guess Rachida really held them up?

Nelac heals Cadvan, who until this point was getting worse and worse, and sends Maerad and Hem off for baths so he can rest after healing Cadvan, and Cadvan can rest after being healed.

Hem is rude to Saliman for approximately ten seconds, at which point he’s too interested in the south to think about being rude. They drop Maerad off and Saliman escorts Hem away.

Maerad bathes and unpacks, and meets Saliman and Hem to go back downstairs. Hem hasn’t bathed, but he has gotten dressed even if he left off the shoes.

Cadvan has already gone to bed when they get downstairs, so Maerad and Hem eat, though Hem does it while utterly enthralled by Saliman and Saliman’s stories of the south.

Maerad asks about Cadvan, and Nelac says he’s healed but needs some sleep, and that he was essentially wounded where his magic was kept. He asks how they all survived an attack by a wight, and Maerad says she blasted the wight. She takes their shock as disbelief and gets defensive.

“Nobody saw it,” she said. “Cadvan was unconscious. I thought Hem was dead. Nobody saw me do it. But I did. You can believe me or not.” She looked up defiantly and caught Nelac’s steady gaze. She held his eye, refusing to be intimidated. At last he stirred, looking away and passing his hand over his brow. To Maerad’s surprise, he looked immensely sad.

He tells her he believes her. End of chapter.

THRONE OF GLASS

For a minute there I thought I’d left a chapter out of my organizer and came to the conclusion that having to do three of them was a fitting punishment. Thankfully, I was just tired and realized my math was right the first time. Have chapters 44 & 45.

Celaena freaks out that the king meets her eyes, as well she should since in Crown of Midnight we are told that the turquoise eyes with molten golden cores are ancestral traits told of in song and story.

Wait no she just thinks me might somehow be able to read her thoughts about the wyrdmarks and Cain pulling some bullshit. Sure, why not.

Later Chaol ruminates on Celaena.

She was incredible now, so fast he had difficulty keeping up with her. She could scale a wall with ease, and had even demonstrated by climbing up to her own balcony with nothing but her bare hands. It unnerved him, especially when he remembered she was only eighteen. He wondered if this was how she’d been before Endovier. She never hesitated when they sparred, but she seemed to sink far within herself, into a place that was calm and cool, but also angry and burning. She could kill anyone, Cain included, in a matter of seconds.

I’ve seen no evidence of this and the word of an incompetent guard captain isn’t going to convince me of it.

After all of this reflection on her badassery, Chaol decides she needs to be protected because she won’t survive another year in Endovier.

Next chapter.

Nox and Celaena spar, or so I assume since the chapter begins with Celaena panting and both of them lowering their swords. Nox teases her about dancing with Dorian at the ball, Celaena warns him to be Super Extra Careful in the coming days. Nox prods her until she drops hints about her Actual Identity, which he then puts together to know who she is. He evidences surprise that she’s a girl.

Seriously is Celaena a gender-neutral name in Adarlan? Otherwise they have pretty strict gender roles going on though. Who knows. Moving on. She tells Nox to run, and the next day he has.

If it was that fucking easy for everyone to get out of the castle, why haven’t they all bolted? I ask you. (Also I note that Celaena doesn’t tell Nox about the secret passageways, making her even more of a half-assed helper)

Oh also Nox calls her Queen of the Underworld. Just cuz.

We swap to Kaltain’s PoV. She notices something funky about Cain, like shadows leaking all around him and stuff.

Shadows seemed to leak from him, flowing onto the stones and the windows and the walls like spilled ink.

But she forgets about it when she gets to Perrington’s table in the hall. Because Reasons.

Celaena’s PoV. She and Dorian are playing chess. She and Dorian eventually make out. Next section.

I assume Dorian left, because Celaena is sitting shivering in bed hoping the monster doesn’t get her the night before the final Test (which comes before the duel).

Celaena falls asleep and dreams of being chased by a horse. This is why I say the early books had more planning, because those of us who have read Heir of Fire will recognize the scene.

She wakes up, pets Fleetfoot (who remains incredibly well-mannered) and goes back to sleep. The next morning she wakes up to learn that Nox is gone (...but he already was?) and the final Test is cancelled. The duel is set for the next day.

End chapter.

COMPARISON

Celaena, if you want your friend safely out of the castle, maybe tell him about that one secret passage that leads directly out of the castle. Fuck’s sake. Do y’all see what I mean about this? (it becomes particularly egregious in Queen of Shadows, remind me to talk about this more when we get there. We’ll also talk more about Hem and Aedion)

Cadvan was not as hale and healthy as we thought, but at least Nelac is here to save the day. Also featuring: Hem’s TREMENDOUS crush on Saliman. No, Ms. Croggon, I know Saliman ends up with a lady. That doesn’t mean Hem doesn’t have a crush the size of a medium planet on him.

Also also featuring one of the main differences in the writing in general and the writing of main characters in specific, namely: Maerad kills things and feels bad about it. Celaena doesn’t kill things but glories in the idea of it and brags about murder until confronted with someone who might present a challenge.

All I’m saying is, the difference is stark.

Likewise, the love interests have totally different interactions with characters and story. Even if Chaol isn’t endgame (and Dorian becomes not endgame) it’s still interesting to see Cadvan vs Chaol & Dorian. Cadvan supports and encourages and sometimes snaps, but he rarely if ever belittles Maerad or her abilities. Chaol (and Dorian) all too often pay lip service to how awesome Celaena is while at the same time deciding she needs to be protected and undermining her at every turn (Chaol and Dorian do this to a lesser degree than Rowan, mind). It’s not even necessarily the characters undermining the protagonist precisely. It is the story undermining her in favor of these three dudes (mostly Rowan and Dorian, admittedly) and then undermining every single other woman in favor of Celaena. It is the oldest of strategies, the kind that elevates the singular woman above other women, showing by implication that it is because she is exceptional that she can run with the boys. Those other women aren’t quite good enough, but she’ll hang out with them if they prop her up enough. So long as Celaena remains more awesome than all other women (never the man she’s involved with, mind. He must be more awesome than all others), it’s all good.

It has not escaped my notice that all of the ‘good’ women are white or white-coded, either. Different cultures? What are they? Only for the evil or uncivilized, obviously.

That’s totally feminism, right?

STATS

Throne of Glass:

Pages: 14

Fragments: 17

Em-Dashes: 29

Ellipses: 7

Pellinor:

Pages: 18

Fragments: 3

Em-Dashes: 2

Ellipses: 4