#and shaw had fucking suffered enough

[pricescigar]

The way of life

Summary: After Harper left the orchestra, finding herself in a sense of despair abour how her life was going... She managed to pull herself together to get back to work, even if the job was small. It was enough.

20th of October 1953

The world around Harper seemed to have grown still, or that's what she had thought of at least. Part of her felt trapped, once again in this cage, whatever it was. Perhaps a part of her was still trapped in her own mind, she hated this feeling of emptiness. Numbness, nothing to look forward to now in life… She fucked everything up. Big time. Everything seemed to have crumbled before her, after what had happened. Now there was nothing she could do to fix it…

Yet a part of her still wanted to reassure herself, that she deserved as much love as anyone else. But maybe she didn't, perhaps if her mother didn't run away… Maybe things would be different. Life itself seems to go on without her, while Harper felt herself beginning to drown in her own thoughts much more.

Harper had been in a daze ever since she walked out during her performance, which utterly destroyed her career in the orchestra. But she didn't care, to be honest at the moment nothing ever seemed to matter to her. Mostly Harper stayed confined in her own home, the curtains mostly drawn to keep out the sunlight. Not really giving herself the vitamin D, exercise she needed for herself mentally and physically. Again… Harper didn't care. Nor eating, or taking care of herself particularly well.

The young woman was either playing chess by herself, forcing herself into learning new things to calm her mind, reading her favourite books, yet the dopamine didn't seem to satisfy Harper. Nothing seemed to satisfy her anymore. Mostly she was just laying there either on the sofa, or in bed simply in deep thought. Her mind still couldn't comprehend the fact she made everyone in the theatre room feel her pain.

She almost felt embarrassed to go out into public, what if people who were there in the theatre recognised her? What if her old colleagues see her? What if she subconsciously hurts people again without realising it?

What if?

Her mind was running overdrive, constantly questioning everything around her. She struggled to comprehend if people would actually care about what happened, or if they simply didn't care. Harper felt like the world was against her currently, nor to mention the fact that she felt so confident that she would be fine on her own.

She was not fine on her own.

Harper refused to go back to her grandparents, the ones who didn't care about her. Rather than that, she decided to suffer alone. Battle her demons alone, battling her own thoughts alone.

Even the… Darker thoughts, the thrill to control every fibre around her. How many minds could she control at the same time? To make everyone bend to her will… How many minds could she make to scream in agony, how much psychic energy would it take…

For it to all go quiet.

She thought of many others too such as… How much energy could she absorb until she herself was a ticking time bomb? Harper knee she was holding herself back, hell of a lot. Admittingly, the last couple of weeks. The urge to find Shaw and to simply join him, was getting more stronger by the second. But Harper stopped herself from doing so, yet again… That same nagging feeling was holding her back, yet she didn't know why.

No one should know how deep her thoughts could actually get. She wanted to try and figure everything out herself, after all… That's what an adult does isn't it?

Her mind kept on replaying her performance… To accidentally cause great pain on her grandparents many times, her mother and Freddie was bad enough since she had killed them. But to actually cause that much harm on many people at once, without killing her, well… That scared Harper. She loved the fact she had that much control over that many people, but it was scary at the same time.

Harper at the time didn't know how to currently cope, nor process the situation fully… She took pleasure in the calmness that alcohol gave her, how it quietened her mind. How everything washed away, from the busy bar and the thoughts ever so loud. It all seemed to numb away, and everything became white noise.

And that's what Harper did, she knew drinking wasn't good. Drinking never really helps anyone, it only creates temporary solutions. But Harper loved those temporary solutions as it was the only thing next to her. Sometimes Harper didn't remember what happened the next day, due to her drinking so much… And the massive hangover that would be there too. Yet who's to say how dangerous she is when drunk, not to mention her powers.

Harper knew she had to change, and that also meant having a firm boundary with alcohol. And she knew she had to take care of herself much better, no more staying confined in her own home.

. . . .

30th of October 1953

Getting a new job wasn't easy, Harper didn't have much to her name. She didn't think about going to college, not even thinking about attending university either. Obviously she knew she would be amazing academically, but then again. Harper didn't know what she truly wanted… Nothing to her name other than that she just decided to wing it and join an orchestra, with very little experience with life. How the world works, how people actually work as a whole.

What makes people tick.

Trying to learn all of that, while she still tried to find her way through life.… How everything worked, how to be an actual adult. She seemed to somehow manage that just fine, with her instincts and general knowledge it wasn't all so bad. But other than that everything else seemed almost hopeless. Living amongst humans, trying to live as normally as she could was hard enough. It was fucking awful, she hated it.

Harper knew she was good at singing, good enough for her. She had just finished singing at a small bar, who was in dire need of a singer. Of course she wanted to try, part of her just wanted to see how it would go… Wanting to test the waters.

It was only for a couple of bucks, but hey anything was good for Harper. At this point she was getting desperate, still not wanting to go back to her grandparents. She took any kind of opportunity she got, at the end of it she got a couple of bucks. Many gentlemen gave her a few nice tips, she could see how they looked at her. Harper definitely knew where this was going, takes one to know one. Many others said they'd give her more for… “other” reasons.

Harper with disgust obviously used her telepathy against them, telling them to simply fuck off or do whatever came into her mind. She told some men to dunk their heads into the beer barrels, make a fool of themselves in the bar, practically doing anything she wanted. She loved the fact she could humiliate them. She liked that.

Perhaps this little night job would be enough, even if she could mess around with people's minds a little as well.

That's what she did for the next couple of years… Harper always found herself on a stage at small bars, singing for bands, or singing solo whatever she felt like. Working most nights, just to make a comfortable living for herself. It was much different than being in a theatre, but at this point… A job was a job.

The money wasn't a lot unfortunately, but she lived somewhat decently enough for what it was worth. After paying all the necessities, food and everything else. She had very little left over, and so she saved it… Every last penny, just in case. It was enough for her to make up after what had happened at the Orchestra, but she knew she needed to put all of that behind her now. Harper knew she couldn't change the past, and what she had now… She simply had to deal with it.

Up until 1959, Harper remained as a singer. She was well known enough at a few little bars, she has gotten used to her small career. Not wanting to make anything big out of it, since she didn't want history to repeat itself. Yet another night of her getting drunk, she found herself walking down the Las Vegas strip. Yet a little gambling establishment caught her eye, wanting to be bold she wanted to gable on her money to gain more. And to get drunk more in the process with the alcohol they offered.

Always the nocturnal one Harper was, she went from bar to bar, singing whatever they requested, she took her money and eventually left the bar. Go back home and fall asleep, then rinse and repeat. Working hard to get more money each time, sometimes she took breaks here and there. Yet her brain always strived to work, anything to keep her mentally stimulated.

. . . .

28th of October 1959

It was going to be a fun night, Harper played blackjack, poker a few times. She was quite the daring devil, so she knew she could use her knowledge to her advantage.

Yet little did she know, Harper would be walking right into the Hellfire club's trap... Where her father would be waiting for her.

[spirit-whump]

whumptober2023 No. 15: “I don’t need you to help me, I can handle things myself.” | Suppressed Suffering | “I’m fine.”

fandom: X-Men First Class (OC-centric)

Marianne couldn’t remember the last time she hadn’t been exhausted. 

It felt like she had been born that way. The eldest daughter of five children, raised during the Depression, with both parents struggling to make end’s meet - of course she had stepped up and looked out for her siblings. It was what she was meant to do. Her parents had to focus on supporting the family, and to do that, Marianne had to take care of the family. It was the only way. 

Then she had started dating Lawrence, and a while after, Henry had come along. That’s when she and Lawrence became the parents struggling to make end’s meet. They had managed somehow, but it was a lot of work, especially with Marianne being the one at home with the baby even as she kept the bookstore running. She was lucky if she could manage a ten minute nap in the afternoons, even when Henry was taking his own naps. There was always something to do, something to fix around the house, and her powers being what they were, it was easy enough, so she didn’t see the harm in doing what she could. 

Lawrence disagreed. He was always taking over for her, taking Henry out of the house when he could to let her get some rest, taking over the little projects she found to fix the house with the insistence that he could handle at least half of what she wanted to do. He made dinner most nights, even after a long day of work. He insisted that they were meant to take care of each other and she needed to let him take care of her as much as she took care of everyone. So she let him.

And then he was gone, and suddenly everything fell back on her shoulders.

And she managed. More than that, Marianne did a damn good job if she said so herself. She raised a child alone, made sure he was safe and healthy and loved. She kept her store running and well cared for, a safe place for anyone who wandered in. She took care of the home and her store and her child all by herself for years and she did fine. 

She was fine. 

And then Charles Fucking Xavier and Erik Fucking Lehnsherr and Moira Fucking MacTaggert walked into her life and fucked it all up. 

They were always there, asking her how she was. How she was feeling after this or that. It wasn’t their fault they hadn’t been at the facility for Shaw’s attack, but really, they didn’t need to be constantly asking her if she was alright. The kids had been through it too - surely they needed more attention than her. She had handled it all just fine. The kids were safe. That was enough. 

Or they were giving her concerned looks when she happened to mention Lawrence, or alluded to something about her family or childhood. Marianne knew what her life had been like. She didn’t need pity over it. She had lost her husband. She had been all but abandoned by her family. And she had made it on her own after all of that. 

Look - Marianne hadn’t suffered the same way they had. Not even the same way the others on the team had. She hadn’t been abandoned or tortured or orphaned or neglected or imprisoned or any of that. Her past had been rough, yes, but she had gotten through it. The worst of it was over. She didn’t need their pity or their help or their concerned looks when she absentmindedly mentioned things like the one time as a 14-year-old she hadn’t seen either of her parents for three days in a row because they left for work early and came back late.

That was the life she’d been given and she didn’t need pitying over it. It wasn’t worse than anything they’d been through. 

It was embarrassing on every level when she woke up one morning and remembered getting drunk with them the night before and realizing she was a much bigger lightweight than she remembered when she was only two glasses of wine in and suddenly started telling them everything she had kept locked away for years. 

Everything from the grief she had suppressed since Lawrence had died, to the sadness of missing her siblings ever since she had run away from home, to the anger and grief over her parents all but throwing her away when she got pregnant. Everything she had never said to anyone but Lawrence, she told all of them. 

It was Charles, of course it was Charles, who approached her the following morning when she was suffering from a violent hangover and gently started probing her for a follow up conversation about everything she had said. Marianne had told him kindly but firmly that she had been drunk and they didn’t need to worry about her. They didn’t need to talk about it ever again, honestly, and she preferred it that way. 

Charles tried again, and then again, to get her to stop dismissing it, until she snapped at him to leave her alone. It was none of his business. And finally he did, but not without a sad look and a reminder that they were allowed to care about her as much as she cared about them. She could come to them whenever she wanted. 

And she appreciated it. She did, really. But she didn’t need that.

Because she was fine. She was tired all the time and she always felt a thin ribbon of grief running through her very being, but she had been living with that for years now. So she was fine, and she would be fine. 

She had made it this far on her own, after all. 

[direwombat]

That anon again. Thank you for listening to my rambling. And if it matters any, Joseph gets plenty of chances to Suffer during my dep's canon. Because we're (plural because this is all from an RP verse my best friend and I have where she plays Joseph and a 'John fucker' GFH while I play my dep and John) bitches like that and can't let the Seed boys get away with being the worst without suffering for it. (1/?)

A major theme of Joe and Dep's relationship is 'be careful what you wish for' since he spends a good early portion of things wanting to change her to fit his whims (for her 'own good' of course), but oops, he gets attached to who she is but by the time he realizes it, his actions are already responsible for her having begun to change for the worse. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, Joseph. Now suffer. And I'm rambling again, but I had another question to ask. Two actually.

First: how did you first get comfortable with sharing Syb with the rest of tumblr? I ask because part of me is tempted to do this with my Dep, but the other part of me is scared of being perceived and judged for my dep, my interpretations of characters, etc. Two: With Augustine becoming Faith, did Joseph specifically pull this to punish Syb? Because I'm getting big 'you took my family member, now I take yours' vibes. And it sounds about right and petty and fucked up enough for Joe. (3/3)

f;lakdjfaldfkj that's TOTALLY FAIR i sure as hell don't let jacob off easy either fal;dfjkadf

and OOF well...to answer question 1: i've been shouting about my ocs into the void of the internet for the past several years (got started in the dragon age fandom, moved to the general dnd fandom, and ended up here) having friends already on tumblr/in the fandom space to share ideas and bounce off of certainly helps. it's for sure scary!, but tbh? the more you talk about them the more curious people will get. at least that's been my experience. and then of course, engaging with other people who have their own ocs, rb-ing their art/fic/sending asks for ask games and prompt lists are a great way to kind of find your place in the fandom/community and make friends! And to address your fear of being judged for your dep/interpretations of characters, i'll just say this: fandom would be boring if everyone had the exact same interpretation of the characters and it's ok to disagree with an interpretation as long as you're not a dick about it, yk? And, just like people irl, everyone's deputy is different and adds to the fandom!

my advice: do whatever you feel most comfortable doing. make your characters in picrews and do those uquizes! I normally open tag, so if you see one from me that you like! tag me! this includes wip wednesdays/whenevers too if you ever feel brave enough to share any writing you have! BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY, you are your oc's number one fan! if (god forbid, and i've never seen this happen personally) someone doesn't like them and has the gall, the sheer audacity to say that to your face? block them. have fun with your oc is what i'm getting at. they're your little barbie/bratz/whatever doll that inspires the most nostalgia for you. we're all just playing little games, telling little stories and dressing up our personal blorbos however we want. :)

as for question 2:

ahh.. poor sweet Augustine. So, Augustine is a park ranger who was on duty at the Whitetails Ranger Station the night of the Reaping and was injured in a pretty nasty fall. One of his coworkers (another oc, Shaw) is one of Jacob's Chosen (who spent a lot of time undercover as a civilian), and after hearing that the Deputy escaped, he essentially lets Jacob know that they have a piece of leverage against her. He's sent to Joseph to heal, where he's very subtley and slowly indoctrinated into the cult. He keeps Augustine hidden from Syb and he also keeps it secret that Syb is the one causing misery to the Cult/newfound family Augustine has found himself welcomed into (as much as he and syb love each other, they're not perfect and uh...there are some abandonment issues there). anyway, i'm still kind of ironing out the details of it all, but essentially, after john and faith are neutralized (john dead and faith/rachel safe and getting clean) jacob and joseph are like, "alright, time to use our secret weapon." Syb knows they have Augustine at this point, but she's under the impression that he's a prisoner, not a member of the cult.

So they meet up on neutral ground (i'm thinking tanami island) only instead of a loving and wholesome reunion, Syb finds out that her brother drank the kool-aid and Augustine finds out that his sister is the one causing the "unnecessary" violence plaguing the Project (which also, Joseph is very careful to shield Augustine from the actual violence, and paints the Project as a much more peaceful organization than it actually is). Anyway, cult tactics win over in Augustine's head and he turns against Syb, and given the power vacuum in the Henbane and his *ahem* closeness to Joseph, he's offered the mantle of Herald/Brother Faith. And. Yeah. It's definitely a method to punish/break Syb, and it's also a way to reward Augustine for his loyalty. Even she wouldn't kill or arrest her own brother. That reunion with her brother is the beginning of Syb's breaking point, and everything after that is just her slipping into misery, helplessness, and despair. everything about this is exploitative as hell :)

[dmpled]

who saved her? if this was what being saved was like then she should never have been. she didn’t want this pain, this suffering. maybe if she hadn’t been saved then she wouldn’t be feeling like this. she wouldn’t of met riley and be going through with this. but then again, being saved she met riley, her sunshine, the lightening that followed the thunder. riley shaw was her person and that person had been taken away from her.

“she would be proud of me, she would be proud that i’m not weak or pathetic and that i can look after myself.” riley would be proud, she would be proud of her for what she was doing. They all had to suffer, each and every member of the oea had to pay for what they had done, not just for riley for gertie as well. even if riley hadn’t passed, luna was sure enough that this is how riley would want her to react. she was protecting her family and friends. she was doing what was needed to be done and she couldn’t understand why he couldn’t see it. why wesley was standing in her way of what was meant to be.

“this is me..this is the luna you’re meant to love. clearly you fucking lied about that cause you wouldn’t be reacting like this if you did.”why, why couldn’t he see that this was her, this is what she needed to be. it was breaking her heart that he couldn’t see it and that frustration, that break in her heart was only fuelling the pain in her chest and the anger in her heart. “i’m still me.”

her eyes just remained fixed on the knife, she had to have it, it was her protection. she could stab her way through everyone that hurt riley and the others, make them pay for everything they had done, sacrificing brigg. they had to pay in their own lives. she just couldn’t understand why he wasn’t allowing her to do her duty, it was her job to protect them and herself, her job to make them all pay. they had to pay. tears streaming down her cheek, eyes flickering between the knife and wesley as he spoke.

“You’re twisting my words!”she hissed, herself now pacing but trying to maintain her eyes on him and the knife. she couldn’t trust him, not right now. “and there not empty threats..because I can do it..I could kill you like I did that hunter..”she spoke, nodding in agreement to herself. she could do this, she was a person of her own word. she would kill him if she had to, she would kill anyone who stood in her way. Riley deserved this, she deserved Luna to act some revenge on everyone who harmed her. “and I’m doing this for everyone because someone has to kill them..not just for riley…yes riley was important but they have to pay…have to pay.”she spoke, continuing to pace as she plotting how to get the knife out of his hand.

“but I’m not a monster, they started this..they fucking started this because they killed them, strung them up like some meat in a butchers shop.” a pause for a deep breath. she had to stay calm, she had to stay calm. “they are the monsters and they need to die. every evil thing has to die and they are evil. I just want the knife, so I can do that.” her voice calmer. maybe she needed to play it this way, maybe he would give her the knife back this way. deep breathes, fake smile as if she was calmer. she needed him to fall for this facade.

“I promise I won’t hurt you.”she spoke, eyes now flickering between the knife and wesley. play the good daughter and he may give in. “i promise I won’t hurt another person.” a clear lie from her but he didn’t need to know that. maybe, maybe he would drop the knife in stupidity or maybe she could find another one. “i’m okay…you could leave me. I’ll be okay.” she spoke eerie sweet and calm. “go find rebek-mum or artie, they need you more than I do.”

There were people in his endless life that were just simple unforgettable, people he carried with him through the years and of those people very few were truly, truly important to him. Rebekah and their girls would be forever engrained in him and Riley- well she had somehow managed to weasel her way into that short list of people. She was just as much a part of his life as Artemis and Luna were, daughter-like in many ways and as much as Luna wanted to believe that he would forget her, that he would forget any of them, it simply wasn't true. Riley was a light in the lives of his daughters, Luna especially, and that kind of light was unforgettable and just as he had gone to correct her she had continued, Wesley's frame tensing and jaw locking tightly, muscle noticeable popping against his features as he straightened himself out.

"I don't care how upset you are, Luna Mikaelson," Wesley stated, words firm, almost icy. "You will not disrespect your mother like that. You want to get disrespectful with me, be pissed off with me, then so be it but I will not stand here and have you blatantly disrespect the woman that has poured everything into you. Her life, her love, do not forget who saved you." Digits tightened around the knife, knuckles nearly white as his shoulders rolled back, trying to bite back the anger that was coursing through him, reminding himself that this was just the grief talking for his daughter as he stood his ground.

"You're right, I didn't know her like you did," he countered. "But I did know her and you are not being someone that she would be proud of right now." Brows furrowed further as Luna's anger continued to slam into him, stabbing him harder and harder with every word. "I'm not giving you the knife," the vampire reiterates. "Because contrary to what you believe right now, I do care about you and I do know you."

A scoff eased from his lips as his head began to shake, frame still as tense as ever as he remained still, unwavering determination to get his child to calm down even as she tried to push him away, tried to scare him off. He wouldn't have it, not now, not ever. "This isn't you Luna," Wesley spoke again, calm and patience beginning to wear. "This is grief, this is anger but it isn't you."

Her final words cut the deepest, the threat husting more than the actual idea of the threat in itself as his frame faltered backwards from where he stood almost as if the air had been knocked out of his lungs as he stared helplessly at his daughter. His jaw clenched once more, emotions on full display across his features as reality settled in that perhaps there was no way to get his little moon back. Arms rose to the side, knife still clutched in his hand tightly as he welcomed her threat, as if calling her out on her bluff. "Do it, Luna," Wesley spoke, voice eerily calm and unwavering. "Rip my heart from my chest. You've already done it figuratively so why not physically too? You think I'm the coward? Making empty threats to your father. To the person who has put you on a pedestal day in and day out because he loves and adores and cares more about you than he has any single soul he's met in his 153 years of life just as he does your sister and mother. Threatening to take away yet another person from two of the people you supposedly love. Or is that it? You just don't care or love anybody other than Riley? Look around you, Luna. We're all here, we're all fighting for her and the others that were killed. This is bigger than just you and Riley. Our entire community has been attacked tonight. But if you want to be the monster that they believe you are, if you want them to feel justified and correct in thinking that we are all monsters, that Riley was a monster, then fucking do it, Luna. Kill me, rip the heart from chest and tearv the knife out of my cold, lifeless hand. That's gonna make you feel better, right? Do what you have to because I can't. I can't see my little girl like this."

[asleepinawell]

silveroakleaf replied to your post

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.” Shoot, please :)”

Holy shit this is awesome! Thank you so much! Your writing always makes my day. Very glad it doesn't end in either of them dying... But, then how DOES end?

I mean, at this point Finch has already shut them out of the system and Root already put in her extra code that only he can activate so he needs motivation to let her use it. So...

everyone goes to the safe house sans root who is taking ‘a nap’

shaw stays behind by herself because lbr even if she enjoys shooting people with root she can totally handle them all herself if needs be

i was gonna have her go with finch and elias because then elias has a good chance of surviving since shaw is the fastest shot on the team and crazy on guard at the moment

but...honestly at this point finch is still pretty anti-letting-the-machine-protect-herself and i don’t think that would change without someone dying

so sadly elias dies and i am mad about it but he gets to die a way cooler death probably

think like hersh’s death levels of badass

shaw shows up to rescue finch from the samaritan goons and the whole firefight happens

since there’s no one else to drive off with finch she shoves him under a car and is like remember that time you wandered into the line of fire and reese got shot? maybe don’t do that.

anyway the firefight takes way longer with only her but she’s got an entire fucking car full of guns and nowhere better to be

reese shows up to help her out eventually

finch wanders into the line of fire and reese gets shot and shaw is like omg we JUST talked about this wtf dude

reese is not dead though, bear with me

they all get out of there and fusco gets reese to the hospital and shaw takes finch to the subway

he has to stay in the subway now because his cover is blown

shaw probably makes some snide remark about this because she’s still low-key bitter about that time she got drugged and handcuffed

she goes back to check in on root

root is still KOed but wakes up later that night

boy is she not amused

but since they’re them they end up having mind-blowing sex and promise not to drug/tase each other in the future

which neither of them really means because they’re them

meanwhile reese is like hurt super bad but he’ll live and they bring him to the subway to recover

the whole team is there including fusco because shaw was like the whole team is basically dying maybe we should just fucking tell him what’s going on isn’t that a great idea

reese is being a giant baby about being hurt because he used to be the most dramatic team member until root rudely stole that title from him

root is all like harold everyone is DYING maybe we should fight back?

reese is like you know what i’ve been SHOT and it HURTS maybe she has a point?

he passes out dramatically

finch is like this is a terrible idea

but elias is dead, reese is barely alive, and every single member of the team is arguing for this

even bear

so he agrees if and only if he’s allowed to change the code and put in like a kill switch or some dumb shit

listen, this is not how AI works. but then again the idea that anything could stop the machine from altering her own code however she saw fit is pretty unrealistic so shrug.

my AI rant is a different rant completely

so finch is like there’s this virus called ice-9 but listen guys this is a terrible idea there’s gonna be collateral damage

shaw is like did you not notice the eugenics-happy evil ai like i think that might cause some fucking collateral damage

also remember the part where it tortured me for like 9 months

she is basically 100% done with his moral high-ground

anyway a bunch of the same stuff happens like in the show but the whole team is actually working together now because that makes a lot more sense

i honestly don’t remember a lot of the details of the last three episodes since i only saw them when they aired and mostly pretend they didn’t happen

but shaw gets to shoot greer in the face because after everything that happens she deserves to be the one to do that

root goes and uses ice-9 on samaritan, there’s probably some badass hacking sequence with lots of cg

would also like to point out that probably the only way to really kill an AI that powerful would be to permanently take out the entire internet and all wired devices and destroy any physical server/device/anything that samaritan could have stored a copy of itself on

but whatever

samaritan and the machine wipe each other out

reese and shaw defend the roof because in poi-healing-from-bullets time reese is like 100% a-okay again.

or he just has a  minigun attached to a wheelchair like those dudes in bloodborne

because that would be AWESOME

root and fusco defend the machine in the subway

finch is off having a soliloquy somewhere

maybe he’s still talking to the machine

i don’t even care honestly

everyone lives and the machine comes back to life like a month later

finch has already taken off for italy

and grace is like wtf dude you basically caused me undue emotional distress for years and also lied to me the whole time we were together fuck off

so finch goes back to ny and does something or another with his life, stays friends with reese

reese, shaw, and root still do missions for the machine

who has taken carter’s voice because taking root’s would be weird now and carter was cool and had a good moral code and the machine digs that

reese still thinks it’s kind of weird but he gets over it

at this point it’s harder for me since i’m writing a fic which has an alternate ending and i don’t want to spoil shit from it

but everyone (that i care about) is super happy or at least content

root and shaw bang a lot and also are now bear’s parents

reese decides that there’s more to look forward to than death because come on that was like the whole fucking point until the end of the show

i don’t buy this ‘borrowed time’ bullshit when he spent over half a season getting therapy for his hero complex and also after he went through the aftermath of shaw’s sacrifice and saw what it did to everyone

so he’s chill with living to an old age and finds happiness with someone who isn’t his doctor because that wasn’t cool with me

maybe he and zoe remain fuck buddies instead or something

root and the machine work constantly to stamp out any trace of other AI development

shaw works to train a future generation of team machine

did i mention that shoot bangs a lot and are pretty content with life in general

fusco gets promoted to something or another

i don’t know much about police force ranks

like a captain or something?

i’m going by b99 here

the government rebuilds the isa under someone who will never be as badass as control but does alright

the machine helps them out with numbers still

everyone lives happily ever after with cool guns and dogs and only occasional taser incidents

the end

[k9rage]

Diversion Tactics

David Shaw/Angel, 3k, Explicit

Tags: Oral sex, slight d/s dynamics, teasing, tender sex, fluff and smut, domestic fluff, enthusiastic consent, gender-neutral listener

"You work so hard to take care of everyone else, let me take care of you baby," Angel breathes, mouth still wet from kissing his skin. It makes him feel a little dizzy, but he nods in assent.

“I told you, I’m yours for the next hour. Do what you want, I don’t care.”

They grin, bright and wide in a way that crinkles the corners of their eyes, and squeeze his thigh in silent thanks. He doesn’t have enough time to reciprocate the quiet gratefulness of the gesture before their mouth is on him, slick and hot and so fucking perfect.

Ao3 link

It's been…a long day.

Arden and Milo got into a squabble while on the job, and paperwork had been piling up so he ended up staying late to finish things. He didn't manage to take enough of a break for dinner at the office, and he's sore all over. 

Coming home to his angel is a welcome respite to the stress from work, though, and he can feel the tension in his shoulders soften a bit the second he closes their front door and quietly sets his shoes aside. 

They're already home, judging by their shoes next to the door, so he hangs up his jacket and pads into the living room to greet them with a kiss. They've taken up a spot on the couch, curled up under a throw blanket and wearing a pair of PJs covered in little cartoon chickens that they bought the last time they went to the store. 

Most of all though, they look happy, and that makes his chest warm as he cups the back of their head while he kisses them. He knows that he must look exhausted, because they linger like that a second longer than usual before parting.

"Busy day at work?" Angel asks, and he hums in agreement as he sits down beside them.

"A lot of paperwork," he admits "forgot to take much of a break today. It's good to be home, though."

They click through the game menu to pause then set the controller aside, pulling him close against their side while they wrap an arm around him "bad day, or just busy?"

He rests his cheek against their hair, stroking absent patterns over their back while he breathes in their scent. It's endlessly comforting, to be close to his mate after such a long day, though he won't say as much to them. They probably already have figured it out anyways. 

"Just busy," the alpha replies, sounding tired. 

"Poor baby," they reply, squeezing his midsection tight "you're wound tighter than a spring. Did you eat dinner already, at least?"

He winces, shaking his head. As much as he wanted to, he just didn't have the time for it earlier that day. 

Angel rubs their thumb against his side absently then pulls away just enough to kiss him again, soft and warm and so, so comforting. The familiarity makes his tense shoulders soften, and his brain go blissfully quiet. 

"Want me to make dinner tonight instead? You could take a shower and get changed out of work clothes, we could watch a show together when you're done."

The idea is stupidly tempting, loathe though he is to admit it. Before angel, he'd probably just deal with it and pass out on top of his sheets still in his work shirt, but he's gotten used to leaning on them a bit more instead of suffering through it. 

He nods a little bit, pressing a kiss to their temple "only if you promise not to make that processed shit you insist on calling food, but yes."

They laugh at that, briefly kissing him again before getting up. Their cooking is still a bit lacking at times, but it's nowhere near as bad as Asher's, and they've gotten a lot better as they've cooked more. If he's honest, he likes when they cook- it feels special that they're willing to expend energy on it to cook things he likes eating. 

The werewolf gathers up his towel and a change of clothes, and steps into the shower after stripping out of his Shaw Security shirt and jeans. The water is heaven on his tense muscles, and he ends up spending longer in the shower than he had intended to. It just feels…really nice, to be under the hot water. 

By the time he shuts the water off and towels off, the mirror has steamed up. The house smells like food, and his stomach grumbles in reminder that he hasn't eaten yet. 

He pulls a pair of boxers on and pads out into the kitchen, water dripping from his hair and making him shiver. David wraps his big arms around Angel from behind, pressing his nose against their hair for a long moment with a mumbled greeting. 

They turn to kiss him, and their hands wander over his heated skin in a way that makes him growl low in his throat. "Shit stirrer," he says, and they just grin up at him. 

"You love it, Davey," they tease.

He does, too, which is the worst part. Knowing they have the balls to mouth off to him, with his bigger stature and intimidating chronic scowl- and knowing he likes it when they do- is nice. He likes their boldness. 

The two of them have dinner together on the couch instead of at the table, watching some show they both like to poke fun at. Their cooking is surprisingly good, and has definitely improved since they started living together. It's nice, just talking about their day and making fun of a show together, ignoring the chaos of his job.

By the time they're done cleaning up after dinner, he's exhausted, but a bit less high strung. His angel has taken up a spot curled into his side and absently rubs little circles against his hip. They're clearly not watching the show anymore, but he won't call them out on it.

They slide closer, pressing kisses down the skin of his neck. He tilts his head to the side slightly, but doesn't react much outside of that, letting them go at their own pace for…whatever they have planned. 

"David," they murmur, nipping under his jawline. He grunts in reply, and their hand slides up his abdomen to lightly keep him in place against the back of the couch. They're not strong enough to hold him there, but the light pressure is enough to get the message. 

"Let me take care of you, baby?" They breathe against his skin. 

“What kind of shit do you have planned?” he replies, instantly suspicious.

They grin against his skin, lingering there with one last kiss before drawing back. This is probably some plan they concocted while he was in the shower in an effort to get him to relax. It'll probably succeed too, knowing them.

They've gotten especially good at taking the tension out of him, these past few months of living together- something about him being wound as tight as a spring all the time making their head hurt just looking at him.

Soft hands slide under his tank top, slow and deliberate enough that it's not hesitation on their part. They know he wants them anytime by now, and are using it to their advantage, but he's kind of okay with that.

They're his mate after all, menace or not. 

"Noooothing~" they sing-song in reply, looking suspiciously pleased with themself while their hand slides up his side. 

"Uh huh," the werewolf replies, unimpressed despite how their flitting little touches are making him feel warm all over. Living with Angel, he's developed an outward resistance to their touch, even if he still feels it just as acutely as he did that first day they met. 

"You're always working so hard, Davey, let me spoil you. Tell me yes, and I will," they breathe, and he can feel his cheeks burn hot with the force of his blush. He understands their plan now, and is utterly helpless to deny them when every inch of him aches for it. 

His brown eyes flick to the side and he lets out a performative grumble. Their hand slides over the inside of his thigh, and he caves abruptly. 

"Ugh, fine, you can," he concedes, all but throwing his hands up "I'm at your mercy for the next hour, but no more than that. Early morning gig tomorrow."

His partner leans in to kiss under his jaw, a smile on their face as they pull back and slide onto their knees in front of him "won't take that long for me to wear you down."

They're right too- he's always been fond of seeing them like this on their knees in front of him, and they seem to have figured out by now the power they have over him when their mouth is on his dick. 

The alpha just growls low in warning, and their fingers trace teasing little patterns up his clothed thigh in a way that never fails to make his muscles tense. Nimble hands drag his zipper down and tug at his jeans, dragging them off and throwing them back into some unknown corner of their living room. He’s gonna find them tomorrow and be annoyed about it, but right now he can’t bring himself to care when they’re kneeling between his legs like this.

He tilts their chin up with a finger then drags his thumb over their bottom lip, intently watching his lover while their eyes twinkle with the customary excitement he’s gotten used to seeing on their face when they’re between his legs. They suck his thumb into their mouth, and he barely stifles a little groan at the thought of that mouth on other parts of his body.

“You can put a hand in my hair,” Angel offers earnestly, and he’s helpless to deny them the veiled request when it’s already something he’d been aching for, already sliding his hand into their hair and combing a hand through it while they slide their hands up his thighs and sidle closer between his spread legs.

“You’ve been working yourself too hard, baby,” they say, almost scolding him, but the fond tone prevents it from feeling like a rebuke. That combined with the slow brushes of their fingertips slowly crawling up his thigh makes him feel wound tight like a spring, thigh muscles twitching under each little flit of their hands on his skin.

“It’s been busy at work, you know that. All the paperwork from the Inversion, changing positions of so many of the pack and-” his toes curl against the flooring, swiftly cutting himself off with a sharp inhale at their hand finally sliding around his aching cock, thumbing under the head in a way that never fails to make his head spin. 

“Shh, I know, baby. Don’t think about work right now- just me.”

He groans, hand flexing in their hair “easy for you to say when you’ve got a hand on my dick, you snot.” His lover just ducks their head and presses a kiss to his hipbone, scraping their teeth over it just enough to make heat curl in his belly. 

"You work so hard to take care of everyone else, let me take care of you baby," Angel breathes, mouth still wet from kissing his skin. It makes him feel a little dizzy, but he nods in assent.

“I told you, I’m yours for the next hour. Do what you want, I don’t care.”

They grin, bright and wide in a way that crinkles the corners of their eyes, and squeeze his thigh in silent thanks. He doesn’t have enough time to reciprocate the quiet gratefulness of the gesture before their mouth is on him, slick and hot and so fucking perfect.

He never gets over just how fucking good this feels, his angel on their knees and his hand in their hair while they suck him off until they’re a mess.

He growls low in his throat, thigh tensing beneath their hand, and quietly nudges them right where he wants with the hand in their hair. David can’t see their smile, but he can feel them hum around him in enjoyment and it makes every nerve in his body feel like it’s lighting up all at once.

“Angel,  you know what you being on your knees like this does to me,” he chokes out, and they pause to look up at him with that impishly pleased sparkle in their eyes. They’ve always known what this does to him- it makes the wolf inside him howl.

Everything feels like he’s floating, with their mouth on him slick and hot, their body between his spread legs and his angel happily following the guidance of his hand in their hair. They don’t do this all the time, but when they do, Angel always takes full advantage of just how much he likes this. Little shit.

His hips twitch in a failed effort to stay still, aching to rock his hips up into the heat of their mouth around him, and he can feel their lips curling in a smile even with his cock in their mouth.

They pull back despite the little warning grumble it earns them, lips slick with spit down their chin when they draw back. It’s left their lips cherry red and a thin line of spit connects them to him until they lick their lips, severing it abruptly. 

“This is about making you feel good, sweetheart. You can move however you want, you know we have safety signals and I’ll use them. Stop worrying over everything and just let go for a while.”

He nods, leaning down and tilting their chin up in a kiss. It’s messy with spit, but no less enjoyable for it, especially when they’re leaning up into him on their knees like this.

“You better fucking use them,” he replies, grumbly in a way that makes them squeeze his thigh under their hand. “Just...go ahead. Do what you want, you menace.”

Angel laughs, bright and happy, and it makes his chest hurt with how much he cares for them. At times like this, it takes him off guard sometimes, just how much he’s grown to adore this shit talking unempowered person who dared to flirt with him after he accused them of stalking him. 

“If you say so, Davey,” they purr in reply, mouthing kisses at the junction of his thigh and hip over the sensitive skin there. They don’t bite especially hard, but occasionally they’ll suck a mark into his skin in a way that makes him curse through his teeth and his hand fly into their hair to hold onto them.

Little biting kisses and marks make their way over sensitive skin, making muscles tense under their tongue while they gradually map a path to where he’s already aching between his legs for them.

They mouth sloppy kisses over the side of his cock and he growls in warning, pulling them where he wants them until he slides into the heat of their mouth. It feels sinfully good, knocking the breath out of him and drawing a little panted breath of heat from the alpha while his mate kneels between his legs to suck him off.

Being in control like this makes it easy to let go, controlling the movement of their head and slowly speeding it up until he can feel them stop focusing so heavily on technique and just let him do the work, grinding hips hips up into their mouth while holding their head in place. 

Everything about it feels good, the heat of their mouth, their body heat between his legs, even the way they’re drooling on his dick and making a mess. It’s almost too good, and he knows he won’t last if he keeps going like this.

The stress of the day makes it easy to keep going though, growling quietly in the back of his throat while he fucks their mouth and holds their hair. Soon enough his hand in their hair keeps flexing and he can’t help but chase the high, breathing heavy and eyes half shut while he watches them swallow his cock so fucking well.

God, they know exactly what they’re doing like this, and he can’t even bring himself to be mad that they’re using his weakness for seeing them like this so shamelessly to get him to take a break.

He spills over the edge with a low growl of their name between his teeth, curled over them and making a mess of their face while he rides out the aftershocks of it all. It makes his breathing come quick and sharp while he comes down from it, finally softening his grip on their hair and stroking their cheek with a soft sigh.

“Fuck, angel, you knew exactly what this would do to me. You little shit.”

They draw back, licking their lips with a very predictably shit eating grin. 

“Maybe,” Angel replies, and he growls halfheartedly. It’s discredited by the little, softened smile on his lips and the way his entire body has melted into the couch cushions like putty.

There’s a pause, a quiet little moment where he just strokes their cheek softly under his thumb, then he sighs, loud and put upon.

“Fine, yes we can go to bed early tonight. No sneaking off to finish paperwork in the kitchen, I promise.”

His angel smiles, leaning into his hand on their cheek. Their face is still a mess, but they’re beautiful no matter what they look like and he can’t bring himself to care about it.

“Doesn’t count unless you pinky promise, David,” they tease, sticking out their pinky in silent demand.

The alpha groans “oh come on, you’re as bad as Asher.” After a brief few moments of grumbling though, he links pinkies with theirs in spite of the annoyed look on his face. 

“Nuh uh, I’m worse than Asher. You said so yourself when you discovered my eating habits,” Angel singsongs, and he sighs despite the warm affection in his chest.

“That’s true at least.”

At his partner’s insistence, most of the evening after that is spent in bed together, and he finds himself close to falling asleep around ten. Almost shamefully early, even for him, but when he’s surrounded by their scent and they still smell like him in that primal sort of way that puts his wolf at ease, he finds it’s incredibly easy to start nearly dozing off in the middle of a paragraph of the novel he’s been slowly chipping away at this past month. 

He’s out like a light before it’s even ten thirty, and Angel silently pats themself on the back for a job incredibly well done in diverting his focus from his paperwork for the night. He needs the relaxation time, and if that means they have to resort to using his favorite things in bed against him, they’ll do it happily. 

[layla-dubois]

professor-shaw​:

Breath coming out in sharp puffs, Jace had only half a mind to confirm Layla’s hunch with look before his eyes were back on the other witch. And of course, he kept pacing, emitting a low growl when she dared to call him ‘beast’. It was a nice change from monster but still, the way she said it rubbed him up the wrong way. 'That so?’ the wolf huffed. She might very well try her best and succeed in doing what she promised, he thought, but he wasn’t running anywhere. He wasn’t—

Fuck, what the hell were those things? As if the tremors hadn’t been enough, Jace watched in utter shock as vines ripped through the ground, binding a shield around her and launching at him …wrapping around Layla in a gruesome way. He was able to dodge them to an extent, suffering a few cuts into his flesh before his strong paws landed him on the ground, but not her. Not Layla.

'No! I’m not gonna let this happen!’ His roar was deafening but the intent behind his words wasn’t to upset Layla. Hunching his body down, the wolf sprung forward and thrusted his clawed paw against the vine, wanting to test its strength. As he landed, dragging backwards, he did it again..unconsciously starting to look for a blindspot of some sort..anything..before she took Layla down. ’Coward! Is this how you’re gonna fight me now?’

.

Layla felt a wave of relief when Jace seemed to dodge most of the thorny vines. He could escape if he just ran now. ‘Please, run, she begged in her own mind but it seemed Jace was not interested in escape. Instead he let out a deafening roar. He meant to fight and Layla would have to watch Kalilah take him down before her own demise.

She gasped as he launched forward. Kalilah’s thorns were sharp but so were the claws of a wolf. They ripped through the vines but Kali was quick to defend. Vines from the side Jace was not on slithered to reenforce the side he attacked. His second attack caused more damage again which was repaired at the expense of the protection at Kali’s back. 

“There’s only one coward of the DuBois family and she’s lying in the dirt where she belongs,” Kali cast her eyes towards Layla and as an added measure, sent a few more of her vines towards Layla, pulling her harder against the earth as they wrapped around her torso and thighs. Perhaps it was meant to distract Jace or it was simply a prideful choice to make Layla suffer even as it sacrificed more of her cover at her back. 

Layla’s eyes surveyed the weak point before checking to see if Jace had noticed as well.

professor-shaw​:

Free… After so many nights and days living…existing inside of that frail human form, the wolf that laid dormant in Jason Shaw was finally free. It was under extraodinary circumstances that he had been able to finally take that one last leap..and now, there was no return. As he ran through the woods, the afternoon sun overhead bouncing off of his brown fur, he chased after the scent of fresh blood in the air.

He couldn’t remember his senses being this sharp or being able to tune in to the sounds around him to this degree, but he knew that it would lead him directly to its source no matter what. No side-tracking, no distractions …Jace moved like the predator that he had the potential of being, until he perceived the sound of two women: one short of breath and the other strong and furious…

It was odd but, somehow, he felt like a part of him knew one of them. Were they in danger..? What was this? As his paws and thighs propelled him forward, Shaw thrusted himself right into the scene and emitted a menacing growl. All of this, of course, happened before he pulled himself up to his full height, looking to the side at a wounded…Layla? Wait. Was this her? Now this felt personal.

The wolf clawed at the soft mud beneath his paws and bared its teeth at the other before beginning to circle her. ’Back off..“ he snarled, projecting his thoughts -perhaps for the first time. ’Back off away from her if you know what is good for you, witch.’

.

The sound had been so very small compared to the massive beast that finally emerged from the forest. A massive wolf stood between Layla and Kalilah, growling. Would Kalilah be robbed of the chance to kill Layla with her own bare hands? 

The wolf’s gaze moved to her. Surely this was the end. He’d smelled her blood and in a moment he’d lunge at the easier prey to devour. Well, at least Kalilah wouldn’t be able to claim her death for the glory of her family. But then... for a moment, Layla thought she’d caught some kind of recognition. Did she know this wolf? It... it couldn’t be...

“Jace?” she whispered so softly only the wolf would be able to hear.

The wolf then turned his focus back on Kali, moving around her and making his intentions of who would be prey very clear. Kalilah let out a humourless laugh at first, unintimidated by the sharp claws and teeth that moved around her.

"I don't take orders from beasts like you," Kalilah boasted to whatever Jace must have projected into her cousin's mind. "This is justice of the higher order," Kali's hands clenched like her own set of talons, causing the earth to rumble. "I have no intentions of leaving that traitor alive, and I'll take out anyone in my way."

Suddenly thorny vines burst from the ground. Some set to craft a cage around Kali, protecting her in a woven bramble. Others launched towards Jace, attempting to wrap around his body. And another set wrapped around Layla. They curled around her ankles and arms, preventing her from moving and slicing at her skin with those sharpened blade like thorns. She struggled against them as another began curling around her neck. It was a threat. Kali intended on dispatching the wolf before she revelled in the final kill.

"Jace, run!" Layla cried out. The thorns stung as they cut into her skin, bruising in their strength. She'd hate for Jace to be caught up in them, in this, for her sake. This was the price she had to pay for the years she stole back from Winter.

[buckys-little-hoe]

The Bet | Jake Peralta x Reader

Pairing: Jake Peralta x Reader

Summary: You and Jake make a bet. Who can last longer without Sex.

Warnings: Implied Smut, my non existent knowledge of police work, sexyness lmao, mentions of drugs and murder

A/N: There is not much to say. I just wanted to try writing about someone else. The next thing that i have planned is something for our fav fast guy Pietro (who owns my heart btw)

---

It all started about a year ago. You were new to the station and immediately attracted everyone's attention. Not only were you beautiful, no, you were a real badass too. You solve one case after the other without any complications. And while you sometimes had to be physical, you looked hot too. Amy had asked several times if you could teach her how to look good while you had blood on your uniform, but you just shrugged your shoulders. In all honesty, you just did it without even thinking about it. Holt was incredibly proud to have hired someone so talented. You lived for your work, but your private life suffered as a result. 

You spent your nights researching and in the morning you just came out of bed. And so after about a week you were at your desk. Rosa came in with her blank expression and sat across from you. You gave her a smile, which she didn't return, but she gave you coffee. You accepted it gratefully and immediately felt better. "Hey, Y/N! Could you bring me the new file? It's on Peralta's desk.” Terry asked you as you sat closer and you nodded. With your coffee cup in hand, you got up and went to his desk. What a mess. Sighing, you rummaged around with one hand. Was that a crushed granola bar? Disgusted, you took your hand out of the mess and took a sip. At about the same time, Jake strutted in and was immediately involved in a conversation with Charles. So he ran backwards towards his desk. You didn't even notice your surrounding anymore, you were too focused on finding the files without your hand touching anything rotten. And so Jake ran against you. Startled, you tightened your grip on the cup, which caused the lid to fly up from the pressure and some coffee spilled onto your blouse. You whimpered softly because the shit was really hot. "Fuck ..." Carefully you lifted the blouse a little so that it doesn't stick to your skin. Jake immediately walked away from you and spoke to you. "Shit, I'm so sorry! Are you okay, Y/L/N?” He asked with a guilty conscience and you turned around. With gritted teeth you nodded and walked slowly towards the washroom. "If you want, I'll help you take it off!" He called after you and you had to pull yourself together not to beat him up. This was his first attempt at flirting, and it wasn't his last. About a month later, you were sitting across from Rosa again, but your eyes were on Holt. He was talking to Jake again, but you couldn't see what kind of conversation. Was it praise? Or maybe scolding? You were bored with no case to resolve. Besides, you were kind on a sex withdrawal. After all, you were new to this neighborhood and didn't really know anyone. You hadn't even gotten to masturbation in the past few weeks. Annoyed, you let your head drop on your crossed arms. It could be that the withdrawal made you a little pissed. "What's going on?" Rosa asked and Amy perked up her ears. And since Charles didn't really have anything to do either and was a self-proclaimed consolation giver, he came straight to it. A kind of meeting came into being. "I'm just not in a good mood," you said and looked up. "Why?" Amy asked immediately. Even Gina was now at your table. "Is it because we don't have any cases right now?" Charles asked, but you denied it. A bit of free time was actually good, but you were in the wrong place to satisfy yourself. "Stress with the partner?", Amy guessed. "I don't have anyone.", You grumbled. "Aha!" Gina shouted. "You haven't had sex in a long time!" With red cheeks you buried your head in your arms again. Satisfied, she nodded as she hit the nail right on the head. Terry came along now. "I know some nice men," he said and you rolled your eyes. Great, now everyone knew. "I know some great girls too," Rosa suggested. “That's enough, guys. If I want then I'll surely find someone. ", You grumbled and looked up again. By now everyone had a sympathetic smile on their faces. You groaned annoyed. Gina pushed Charles aside and showed you a couple of Instagram accounts with some guys. Somehow you wanted meaningless sex, but not with someone strange. Jake stepped out of the office again and noticed everyone standing at your table. "What's going on here?" He asked aloud and walked to your desk. "We're looking for someone to lay Y/N.", Gina answered without looking up. Embarrassed you avoided his gaze. Did everyone finally know? "I'll volunteer.", He grinned and everyone started laughing, including you. "Why are you laughing?" Confused, he looked at his colleagues. Charles put a hand on his shoulder. "Not bad for Jake, but Y/N is way out of your league.", He replied with pity in his voice. Jake looked at him indignantly. “Thanks, Boyle! It doesn't matter now. Y/N, take your bag or whatever, we have a little drug case in a gelateria.”Peralta said, avoiding Boyle's hurt expression. A gelateria and he didn't take his best friend with him? Excitedly, you grabbed your service weapon and your jacket. “I’m ready!"

-

"I think the owner is the dealer," you said quietly to yourself. Jake nodded in agreement. "Now we just have to catch him red-handed," he added. He turned to you and put both of his hands on your shoulders. You looked at him with a raised brow. "Flirt with him," he ordered and shook you. "What! Why? ”You hissed softly and glanced over at the guy. "You distract him and I'll go back through the door," he explained and you sighed. "Okay." So you stepped inside slowly, purposefully towards the counter and looked at the many different types of ice cream. "Hi!", You smiled shyly, and he took the bite immediately. "Hello beautiful woman, what can I do for you?" He asked charmingly with his heavy Italian accent. Your heart went soft with all the ice cream. "What can you recommend?" "It depends on what you like," grinned the man. "I like it extraordinary, maybe something Mediterranean.", You said and suppressed your gag reflex. "I should have- Hey!", He interrupted himself and looked past you. Inwardly, you just gave yourself a facepalm. He couldn’t be serious. "What are you doing back there, huh?" Slowly you turned around and saw Peralta with a mustache stuck on. You sighed softly to yourself and just mimicked your fate. "Well, searching the drugs.", He replied as if it were the most normal thing in the world. You took your badge in your hand ready to turn around when the swanky Italian slapped it out of your hand, jumped over the counter and hit you on the floor. With a thud, you landed on the floor. Jake was about to walk towards you, but you waved in the direction of the door. He bit his lip and hesitantly ran after him. Slowly you got up and cracked your fingers. Why did he have to bite his lip so badly? Now you ran after them too, it didn't take long for the Italian to land in a dead end. Jake seemed to have everything under control, so you stood to one side to take a deep breath. But when he handcuffed him, you couldn't prevent your dirty thoughts. How would the handcuffs feel on your hands? You rubbed your thighs together to release some friction. You realized one thing. Jake was the one who had to fuck you. You just had to make him do it.

-

A few days later, you were leaning your arms on Gina's desk, your bum up. In the reflection you could see his eyes on it while he was talking to Amy. Even your blouse had one button open today. At least time was running and you were getting more and more impatient. Gina told you something about a dance group and normally you'd like to listen, but this time it was more difficult. When you turned around he was no longer there. Instead, Amy gave you a friendly wave. You returned her gestures with a smile. Suddenly you smelled his perfume in your nose. He was right next to you. Your breathing became a little more irregular, as did your heartbeats. Oh God. His sleeves were rolled up and he was smiling slyly. “We're going to Shaw’s after work today. Would you like to come with us?” He wanted to know and you didn't miss how his eyes briefly wandered to your breasts. “Oh yes, Y/N! You absolutely have to go.", Gina agreed, so you nodded."I'll be happy to come, Peralta. "

-

That evening, you sat in a corner with your drink in hand. If he stopped giving you any more signs, you would look for someone else, which you would find a shame. Time passed and slowly the troop broke up. Until there was only Jake left, who sat down next to you with a new drink. "Here." Smiling, he pushed the glass towards you. You took the straw slowly in your mouth and didn't break eye contact. If he didn't get that hint now, you'd probably freak out. Instead, the detective put his hand dangerously close to your clothed core. You gasped loudly. "Could it be that you want me to fuck you?" He asks quietly and your heart almost popped out of your chest. You opened your mouth, but not a word came out. So you just nodded. “Unfortunately that's not enough, babygirl. Use words. ”Jake said. Slowly he tilted your head to one side and kissed the back of your neck. "Please, fuck me," you breathed. He removed his head and grinned. "I will, but just because you asked so nicely." Shortly afterwards you landed in his apartment. And at three in the morning you woke up and left like nothing happened. And it went on and on. Some days he would hold you against the shelves in the evidence room. On others it was in his car. And you liked the dominance he exuded. You liked how he took what he wanted from you, while still not forgetting your satisfaction. But after the sex you were always the first to go.

-

After a year it was still just sex and nothing more. So you were all the more surprised when he suddenly showed up on a date. You apologized to the nice man and pulled Jake on his ear out. He followed you gasping. When you finally stood in the parking lot, you crossed your arms. “What's this crap, Peralta?” You wanted to know, annoyed. "I ... I just wanted to make sure the guy was decent," he lied, which you could clearly see. “Bullshit. You are jealous. ", You replied." No, I am not. " "Yes you are." "No." "Yes." "No." "Yes." “Okay! Our sex is fantastic okay? But what am I talking about here anyway? You wouldn't even go a day without it.” The cop defended himself. "Oh yes? I think you're confused, darling. You can't last a day without it.” You replied angrily. “Then let's bet. Whoever gives up first loses,” he suggested. “What do I get if I win?” You asked suspiciously. Betting with Jake always goes wrong and ends in chaos, you've been aware of that since Halloween. "I'll give you the murder case." "Okay, and you?" "I want one waking up." Confused you pulled your eyebrows together. "What do you mean?", You said. "I want you to wake up with me once. No escaping," he explained with ruddy cheeks. You examined him briefly and finally nodded. "Deal."

-

It started very easily. Here and there he brushed your hips, of course quite unobtrusively. Sometimes your file fell down, so you had to bend down very low. But he didn't jump on it. So you had to get more extreme. Bananas were eaten and he was flirting with Amy. And somehow your heart got heavier. So you had to act differently. Shortly before the end of the day you accidentally spilled your water on your white blouse. While your red lace bra became visible, you apologized with red cheeks and promised to come back. You didn't miss Jake's eyes, but you had other plans. From your closet you pulled a top with a deep neckline and tight jeans that made your bum stick out. You pulled the hair elastic out of your hair and freed your voluminous mane. You even forced yourself into high shoes and for once you leave your underwear off. "Show Time.", You mumbled and drove to the bar. And as soon as you stepped in, everyone's eyes were on you. Rosa whistled loudly and grinned honestly. Flattered you gave her a hug. "I thought I could dress up a bit." You explained your outfit to her. "Good girl," she winked. She’s the only one who knew about you and Jake since she caught you in the evidence room. With a swing of your hips that could only drive someone crazy, you strutted towards the bar. The bartender leaned down to you. "What will it be, my lady?" He grinned charmingly and you laughed out loud. still focused on getting what you wanted. “A shot would be a start,” you answered. He pushed one over to you pretty quickly. "It’s on the house.", He smiled. You nodded as a thank you and drank it. The warmth spread through your body and you let your shoulders circle. And so you flirted with the bartender for an estimated two minutes, when a well-known body was already pressing against yours. And with it his erection too. Your grin grew bigger. "What do you think you're doing?" He whispered in your ear. Goosebumps graced your body. He let his hand slide gently under your top. "You don't even wear a bra," Jake said, breathing irregularly. Inconspicuously, you rubbed your bum against his reaction. "That's enough," he whispered through clenched teeth. And so he pulled your wrist towards his apartment. And for the first time you didn't care what your colleagues thought about you.

-

Tired you opened your eyes and looked directly at the alarm clock next to you. Three o'clock at night. But this time you didn't get up. Instead, you turned around, put your arms around his body, and closed your eyes again. And Jake's smile grew bigger.

[sebastianshaw]

I know everyone here is SICK of my Duggan hate but-- It strikes me, he really just CAN’T write complex characters? I’ve noted many times over how he’s dedicatedly stripped Shaw of anything likeable or human not only the present, but actively retconned events to make him a 2D sack of evil (and frankly, inept evil) in the past as well. But he also goes out of his way to do the reverse for Emma, retconning that she’s ACTUALLY been a good person All Along even when she was at her most evil (so. . . what about her neverending journey to be a better person then, if she always was?) and actually Always Helped Other Women (which is like. . .pretty laughable to anyone who has read her past issues) to fit his ‘feminist’ theme. And there’s also, as many others have noted, how the secondary cast is just. .  .bereft of character, or likewise one-not. Bobby, Pyro, Shinobi, and Bishop can go for ISSUES without speaking, and when they do, it’s like. . .one line. They show the bare minimum of personality most of the time, and while sometimes Duggan can hit a home run (Shinobi’s remark about how he and his dad have done well in not trying to kill each other so far) a lot of it is just. . . why are they there? No, really. They don’t really do anything, and the “plots” he gives them are typically underwhelming and resolved in one issue.  Pyro, as @sammysdewysensitiveeyes has noted, hasn’t been demonized into a total strawman like Shaw, but he’s also really not at all recognizable as Pyro either. His character is entirely a one-note buffoon who is there for stupid comic relief, and there’s zero discussion about his past prior to coming back---his time with the Brotherhood, his battle with the Legacy Virus, the changes he underwent as a person when he was at death’s door, or even the stuff before that as a wartime journalist in Southeast Asia. None of that is there, there’s just this chaotic frat boy joke that Duggan pretty much entirely made up; he only even acknowledges Pyro is a Gothic Romance novelist after 20 issues, and even then it’s to make him look like a joke some more. Like Shaw, he’s just got one dimension now. Duggan seems to WANT to talk about abuse, specifically at the hands of men, which both Christian and Shinobi have experienced, as both were abused by their fathers. But he never, ever brings that up. Instead, he retroactively invents that Shaw abused Lourdes, and tacks on an abusive backstory to a female villain. I don’t think he thinks men can be abused? Or just. . .doesn’t care. His male characters are the ones who suffer most from flatness and having to be inept, evil, or both while the Cool Women Do Things, and I guess he, like lots of men, thinks that’s what Feminism (TM) is, just he’s not whining about it and is performing it instead. Speaking of that female villain, Wilhemina is a nasty evil sadistic little girl who not only happily kills/hurts people, she also kills and tortures animals, especially kittens. And you know what? I bet in the hands of a skilled writer, she very much COULD be made sympathetic and understandable. But what Duggan does is he just takes her and literally in ONE SCENE is like “oh she understands it was wrong now and is SUPER SORRY see she’s CRYING and also she did it because she was SEXUALLY ABUSED” and bam, we’re supposed to feel for her. There’s no buildup, no exploration, just a sudden explanation and remorse and that’s. . . .it?  Compare MANON AND MAXIME whom I’ve written about before. They’re two children who were traumatized, abused, exploited, and made to hurt others by their abuser, which they seemed to enjoy doing. Now that they’re free and living on Krakoa, they do still exhibit unacceptable behavior at times, sometimes out of vengeance, sometimes in self-defense gone too far, and sometimes out of a desire to help and please others but lacking the tools to understand boundaries and appropriateness and respect for other’s autonomy. They’re a very unsettling blend of being sweet, childlike children, too eager to please adults, and little gremlins who seem to take joy in messing with people’s minds---or who just don’t understand when it’s wrong even when they mean well. Unsettling, and realistic. Psychic powers aside, I find the twins to be much closer to real-world victims of abuse, especially children, in that they’re NOT “good victims” or “bad victims”. They’re not the “abuse makes you evil” trope, but they still have fucked-up behavior so they’re not the “little abused angel who just sobs beautifully but whose symptoms are all sympathetic uwu” either, which is just as rare and as damaging a stereotype in its own way because it holds that up as how survivors of abuse “should” be. And, as said, that’s rarely it. Most survivors come out of abuse with behaviors that AREN’T sympathetic but DID help them survive, and they ARE NOT BAD PEOPLE FOR IT. This shit is complicated. Then there’s Wilhemina, who starts out as just a monster (even though, realistically, if a child is hurting animals, they probably DO need help) and then the moment her tragic backstory is revealed, she also recognizes and regrets all her wrongdoings. She jumps from one extreme to the other in the space of a few panels, but remains totally one-dimensional either way. And of course, Lourdes. We didn’t see to much of her personality BEFORE Duggan got ahold of her, but in her two issues pre-retcon, she showed a surprising amount of depth and moral ambiguity. She was a member of the Hellfire Club and high enough in its ranks to try to prevent Shaw from being nominated as Black Bishop, claiming she’d seen how it changed people. She clearly had seen some shit and despises it, yet she remained within it. She also seemed content with the idea of Shaw and Buckman experimenting on mutants as guinea pigs, her concern was more doing it on the X-Men specifically and that Buckman would betray Shaw. And she had far more agency when she chose to give her life to save Shaw’s, than Duggan’s version that needed Emma to tell her what to do. Duggan’s Lourdes is a brainless doll who talks like a little girl and needs Emma to handle everything for her, despite it largely not making sense that she would, given her own resources. She’s more morally pure, perhaps, but also one-dimensional. Only room for ONE Woman With Agency here, honey! TL;DR Duggan really can’t write characters that are more than one or two notes, and it shows. 

[shootwinterfest]

‘Tis The Season

‘Tis The Season by @asleepinawell

CHECK OUT THE ART COLLABORATION!!

Companion art by @maarikaaaa

Shaw slouched in the driver's seat and sighed loudly. "What's taking her so long?"

"You seem awfully worried," Reese said from the passenger's seat.

"I'm not worried. Root can handle babysitting a number by herself."

"Of course."

Long seconds ticked by as they waited. Shaw looked around the interior of the underground parking garage they were waiting in, hoping for something to distract herself with, but nothing stirred. She watched suspiciously as Reese fiddled with the dial on the car stereo. The reception here was shitty, but she could still make out the opening notes of Jingle Bells on the station Reese stopped on.

"No."

"’Tis the season, Shaw."

"I can hurt you."

"That's how you get on Santa's naughty list."

In the back seat, Bear whined.

"See? Bear hates it. Change the station."

"It's Christmas Eve."

"Who cares?"

She reached out to change the station, but Reese held his hand over the stereo to stop her. She thought about breaking one of his fingers, but then she'd have to listen to him complain about that while they waited. Without meaning to, she glanced down at the little clock just below where Reese's hand was. Eight twenty-three. Root had said to pick her up at eight.

"You how what? Fine. Put on whatever you want. I'm going to go find Root and drag her down all forty floors of this damn building."

"So you are worried about her then."

"No."

Shaw climbed out of the car and then stuck her head back in so she could address the remaining occupants.

"I'll be back in a few minutes, so just keep him out of trouble while I'm gone."

"I'll keep an eye on him," Reese promised, reaching into the backseat to pat Bear on the head.

"I was talking to Bear." Shaw shut the door to cut off Reese's protest and turned to go.

She wasn't worried about Root. Not yet anyway. It was a simple number: keep an eye on some business CEO lady at her office holiday party. The Machine had been vague about the details, but that was nothing new. Maybe Root was trying to make Shaw come look for her. If that proved to be the case, she'd have to deal with both Root and Reese making snide remarks about her worrying the whole drive back.

She jabbed violently at the elevator button and glared at the doors until the elevator car arrived.

___________________

Root sulked in silence. She wasn't mad about Ricky from the marketing department who'd kept coming on to her half the night (he was currently unconscious and folded up in a closet full of cleaning supplies down the hall), nor was she mad that Judy from customer support had spilled fruit punch on her amazing new Christmas sweater (the punch had only gotten on the sleeve fortunately, which meant the small taser she'd hidden in the enormous stuffed reindeer head that was mounted on the front of the sweater hadn't gotten wet). She wasn't even mad about the armed men who had invaded the holiday party and made all of them sit on the floor in the middle of the conference room.

No, she was mad because she wasn't allowed to go and do horrible and unpleasant things to the party crashers because someone was worried one of the hostages might get hurt in the process. The Machine wasn't letting her have any fun today.

"Do you think they're going to kill us?" the terrified man next to her asked.

"Probably," Root said, distracted by one of their captors who was doing something vaguely interesting with the computer in the next room. She craned her neck to try and see across the hall better.

The man next to her wailed in panic and Root sighed.

"He'd probably be better off unconscious," she said quietly, hoping the Machine would take pity on her and let her tase him. But no, apparently tasing terrified civilians was not allowed. Not even for Christmas.

She ignored the Machine's suggestion that she try to calm the man down and instead inched away from him to try and get a better look at what was going on across the hall. Just what were these guys after here?

___________________

Shaw had imagined a lot of possible outcomes from her trip to rescue Root--though mostly she'd imagined Root 'apologizing' to her in an empty office while Reese had to wait and freeze to death in the car--but she definitely hadn't imagined that she'd find herself crawling on her stomach through an air vent shaft above the head of a heavily armed man.

Her side trip had started with the elevator coming to an abrupt halt between the twenty-eighth and twenty-ninth floors. She'd been annoyed, but not concerned. Until the gunfire had started. Gunfire that definitely didn't sound like the small pistol she knew Root had on her. She'd brightened: maybe this wasn't a wasted trip after all.

The problem of being stuck in an immobile elevator had remained though and she'd been forced to improvise. In this case, improvising had meant climbing out a hatch onto the top of the elevator and prying off the cover of a vent on the wall slightly above her. Her heavy winter coat had been too large to fit in the vent, so she'd left it behind. Also left behind had been the horrible, ugly Christmas sweater she'd had on under it (the only thing that had made it tolerable was Reese had to wear one as well since he'd also lost a bet to Root). It was a shame that the sweater would probably never be recovered from the depths of the elevator shaft which she had gleefully flung it down, but surely Root couldn't blame her for losing it under the circumstances.

The black tank top she'd had on under all that wouldn't keep her warm outside, but it wouldn't get snagged in an air duct either. And it looked much better on her than the sweater had.

And then, after crawling through the metal vent for what felt like a million years, she'd finally seen a grate in the side of it that looked down into a room below. Which was where she saw the man with all the guns.

She couldn't hear everything he said over his little radio communicator, but she did pick up enough to get the general impression that there were multiple armed men here and some of them had been sent to sweep the floors above and below where the main group was. Which of course meant the main group was on the same floor as Root's stupid party because of course it was. The building was supposed to be empty other than for the party, she learned as she listened, and with the power to the elevators cut off no one could get up to the thirtieth floor (where the party was) without taking the stairs.

What she didn't get out of it was what the group was after, though for the moment that didn't matter too much.

She waited until the man walked past her position just a bit and then knocked the grate out with one hard kick and sprang out of the vent like a panther leaping on its prey. The man let out a very unprofessional shriek when she landed on him, and she shut him up by choking him unconscious with the strap from his gun. Her gun now.

The radio communicator, which had fallen on the ground when she'd pounced, crackled to life.

"What's going on down there? I'm sending backup."

Shaw ignored the radio in favor of looting the unconscious man for weaponry. There was a very nice combat knife strapped to his ankle that she inspected with satisfaction.

"Guess I made Santa's nice list after all," she said to herself as she tucked the knife away.

Her eyes fell on the bag the man had been carrying. Now what would an armed thug be carrying around in a bag with him? She unzipped it.

"Well, Merry Christmas to me."

Other than the disturbing amount of C4 in the bag, there was also a spare earpiece communication device of some sort that wouldn't do her much good on its own. Or wouldn't if she didn't have the world's most powerful AI on her side who was hopefully paying attention.

"Can you call Reese on this thing?" she asked as she put the earpiece in. She'd call Root next, but she wanted Reese to get his ass in gear and give her some backup first.

There was some static on the line and then the sound of a phone ringing.

___________________

"It suits you very well," Reese said as he adjusted the headband on Bear. It had been hard to get the red puffball to stay on Bear's nose, but the fake antlers had fit him perfectly and he looked very handsome in his festive cape. And more importantly, Shaw would hate it.

Up in the front seat, the radio blared Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and drowned out the sound of a cell phone vibrating in the cup holder.

___________________

"What the fuck is he doing? Fine. Whatever. Put me through to Root."

The sound of footsteps on the stairs drew Shaw's attention. At least two, probably three, and somehow she doubted they'd come down to invite her to the party.

"Hold that thought for one second," she told the Machine. "Gotta go serve some holiday punch."

___________________

Root was suffering horribly. She'd finally managed to get herself into a good position to watch the man at the computer across the hall, and she could now clearly see that he was trying to hack into the system here, undoubtedly to gain access to some of the company accounts or something equally boring and unoriginal.

The problem she was having though was that he was terrible at his job and she had to sit there quietly and watch him fumble about like he'd never broken into the servers of a security technology company before. Pathetic. It was all she could do to stop herself from going over there and ripping the keyboard away from him and doing it herself.

She was weighing the pros and cons of doing just that when the leader of the group walked by having a frantic conversation with one of the other men. The fact they were speaking in German would have been an issue if the Machine hadn't helpfully translated it all for her.

Apparently they'd lost contact with the three men they'd sent to look into a disturbance on the floor below and they needed to start the elevators again so their backup on the third floor could reach them.

A disturbance. Root smiled. She knew exactly what sort of disturbance could take down three armed men with no effort.

With perfect timing, a voice that wasn't the Machine's whispered in Root's ear. "Root? You there?"

Root moved a little further away from the others and lowered her voice. "Hey, sweetie. I hear you're having fun."

"What the hell is going on up there?"

"Oh, the usual. They're just after money. But Shaw, the hacker they brought with them is terrible. You wouldn't believe what he's--"

"Root. Focus. What's your situation like there?"

"There's only a few men left here besides the leader but they're going to restart the elevators to bring up more people from the third floor."

"The elevators, huh?" There was some rustling over the line. "Say, Root, can the Machine confirm that there's no one else in the building below us other than the bad guys?"

"She says there isn't. Why? What're you going to do?"

"You'll see. Or hear."

And then Shaw was gone leaving Root still stuck in a room full of useless hostages and idiotic thieves. Why did Shaw get to have all the fun?

"This whole sitting here doing nothing thing isn't really working for me," she told the Machine, "so unless you have a bet--"

A deafening boom roared through the room and the entire building shook. Overhead the emergency sprinklers switched on, drenching the already panicked hostages. The man in charge of the thieves and one of his men were yelling at each other in German again and waving their guns around.

They were, the Machine informed her, going to take the hostages up to the top floor and leave the hacker and one or two guards behind here to finish the job.

"Sounds like it's my turn to have some fun then."

And finally the Machine agreed with her.

___________________

In the five minutes between hearing footsteps on the stairs and calling Root, Shaw had incapacitated all three men who'd come to find her. One of the men now had a broken arm, another a broken nose and three less teeth, and the last one had a few minor stab wounds he'd most likely survive.

Shaw had an exciting array of cuts and bruises, and a bullet graze on one arm that wasn't serious but did bleed an annoying amount. But more importantly she had a captive audience (literally) to watch her strap the C4 she'd found to an office chair. She'd gagged all the men when she'd tied them up of course, but she could see the sheer terror in their eyes at the sight of all the plastic explosives in her hands.

It took a lot of effort to pry apart the doors to the elevator shaft and brace them open with a metal pipe. Way down below she could see an elevator car descending to pick up the backup that Root had managed. Just in time.

There were probably other ways to stop the elevator, but Shaw had been shot, punched, and skinned both her elbows in the vents. Also she'd ripped her second most favorite tank top. There would be no mercy today. Especially not for the Christmas sweater that was undoubtedly still in the elevator shaft somewhere.

"You can't do that!" One of her prisoners had somehow spit out his gag. "You'll bring the whole building down with us in it!"

Shaw grinned at him as she wheeled the chair of C4 over to the elevator and held it balancing on the edge.

"Yippee ki yay, motherfucker," she said with a wink. And then she let go of the chair.

___________________

"In here, Shaw," Root called without turning around.

"Yeah, you left a trail of unconscious bodies leading right to you," said Shaw from behind her. "How'd the one guy end up hanging from the ceiling fan anyway? And what are you doing on there?"

Root didn't look away from the computer screen. "They were trying to hack in, but Leeroy here is very bad at his job." She gestured at the hacker tied to the chair next to her. "I'm giving him a free demonstration on how to do his job. He should be thanking me." Which he might have been able to do if he hadn't passed out in terror when she'd threatened him with her taser earlier. It wasn't her fault that he was missing out. "This server was cut off from any external network before, but I've given the Machine access now. Might come in handy. You never know."

"Uh-huh, and what happened to all the hostages?"

Root finally looked away from the screen and forgot what she'd been going to say when she caught sight of Shaw. The blood, the sweat, the ripped tank top, messy hair, and bare arms. This was definitely what she'd asked Santa for. Her glasses were in serious danger of fogging up.

"Root? The hostages?"

"Hmm? Oh, them. I locked them out on the roof. They were loud." And then at Shaw's disbelieving look she added, "Well, I did deal with all the bad guys first so it's not like they're really in danger and the Machine has helicopters en route to come rescue them before they freeze to death." It wasn't like she'd left them out there without their coats or anything. She wasn't heartless!

"So are we done here then? Because I think the NYPD are probably going to be crawling all over here looking for whoever blew out all the windows on the ten lowest floors of the building."

"The Machine is taking care of that as well. We'll be gone before they get here." But Shaw was probably right and they should leave. She got up and straightened out her clothes, which drew her attention to the fact that Shaw did not have on the sweater she'd agreed to wear tonight. "What happened to your sweater, Shaw?"

"Tragic accident. Couldn't be avoided. Next time don't make me wait twenty minutes in the car with Reese and maybe the sweater will survive."

"We'll see about that." She had extras back in their apartment.

They had to take the stairs back down through the ruined building since the elevators were...no longer in service and Root spent the long walk down enjoying the view of Shaw's back and arms. Sure this hadn't been the smoothest number they'd ever handled, but the important thing was they'd both had fun.

And maybe, she thought as she watched Shaw pause on a stair landing and use her shirt tail to wipe some sweat off her face, they had just enough time for a little more fun. Making out in a stairwell hadn't been where she'd expected her day to end up, but the Machine had chosen her for her ability to adapt and improvise so she gave it her all. And while the remnants of the flames from the earlier explosion still flickering around them weren't really the same as a yule log in the hearth, it still felt very seasonal.

Even the stuffed reindeer head on her shirt that kept jabbing Shaw in the stomach when they kissed couldn't ruin the moment.

___________________

"What happened to your sweater?" Reese asked right as Shaw asked, "What the hell happened to my dog?"

To make matters worse, Root was already taking pictures of Bear with her phone which meant the humiliating reindeer cosplay Reese had forced on Bear was being immortalized. Shaw resolved to steal Root's phone later and delete the evidence.

"I got a text I'm assuming was from the Machine that told me not to worry about the rather large explosion in the building I'm parked under," Reese said. "Why do I always miss all the fun?"

"That's what you get for making me listen to shitty music," Shaw said as she opened the door to let Bear back into the car. "Also, you're too tall to crawl through air ducts. Let's get out of here before someone shows up asking questions."

She figured she had a few more hours before all the excitement from the day wore off and she started feeling all the bruises she'd gotten, and she planned to make good use of that time. Getting Root out of the goddamn reindeer sweater was definitely a top priority for multiple reasons.

"Didn't expect Christmas Eve to end with a bang," Reese said as they drove away.

Root piped up from the backseat. "Actually the banging hasn't start--"

Shaw smacked the radio button on and some horribly cheerful song about snow drowned Root out.

[ohgodmyeyes]

hi! I was curious as to what are both your fav and least fav versions of anakin? (like aotc, rots, old force ghost, clone wars, etc)

This is such an exciting question, but I'll try to be succinct instead of long-winded and boring. (My stories are already there for that.) Here's a quick rundown of a few different Anakins, from my most treasured to the one (and only one) I tend to side-eye: 

ROTJ Anakin / Force Ghost Anakin - I'm grouping these guys together, because I love them all for the same reason, and that reason is that they DID it. ROTJ Anakin is the Anakin who finds himself again; who takes responsibility for his family, and a huge step toward atoning for the things he's done. He spends ROTJ slowly changing; we see it in how he regards the Emperor, and the way he regards Luke. The closest thing he’s ever going to do to getting his wife back, realistically, is saving his son and finally openly defying Palpatine. It doesn’t matter that anyone else knows Vader has been rescued from himself, or that he was really a good man all along. Luke knows, and that’s enough; it’s part of why their relationship is so special to me. Luke is the only living person who says a proper goodbye to Anakin: He knew all along that it was worth it to try to know him. That’s beautiful.

His journey isn't finished at this stage, exactly, but his he's in a better place than he's ever been, and I love him for it. He's hope personified, even for the very worst of us.

As an aside— physicality isn't a barrier to any of this; I love him all busted up and dying, I love him as a fully-healed Sebastian Shaw, and as a pretty, young Hayden Christensen.

Padawan Anakin / AOTC Anakin / Jedi Quest Anakin - In second place is a much younger iteration of him— a sad, lonely kid who's easily excitable, and dangerous, somehow, without being at all frightening. He's a mixed-up kid who's had a less-than-ideal upbringing, bound to an ancient prophecy no one knows enough about. He cries out constantly to be held and loved; he's got his heart in his hand, and he's always ready to give it away to the next person who shows him kindness— or who even just needs him. 

He's still so compassionate and well-intentioned at this point in his life, even when it doesn't benefit him. He can be petty and sensitive, although anyone would be, if they had to bear the kind of weight Anakin carries on his own shoulders at that age. His emotions sometimes run amok, but his heart is still so good... and more importantly than that, he knows it. He still has hope, for himself and for others, despite the overwhelming sense of 'otherness' he tends to feel. That's what sets him apart from Vader for me, even though I think AOTC Ani resembles the ultimate, 'suited' Darth Vader a lot more than the Anakin we meet at the beginning of ROTS. 

Plus— although this is fairly irrelevant— AOTC Anakin happens to be Anakin at peak hotness. No damn wig is going to change that, nor is the sad fact of my own rapidly-advancing age. :) 

Little Kid Anakin / TPM Anakin - The sweet baby version of Anakin comes in next for me. The altruism he struggles to hang onto until he finally falls is front-and-centre at this stage. He's tough by necessity (obviously, he's a fucking slave), but he isn't jaded yet— largely owing to his mother. Even when he loses Qui-Gon and gets to the Temple and struggles to integrate, his heart just stays enormous. God knows what he's already been through, but he never stops trying, and there's nothing fake about his confidence at this stage in his life. I love that; I think we could all stand to be a bit more like nine-year-old Anakin Skywalker.

There's an Anakin & Reader story on ao3 by @itohan called 'Kuebiko', and it's a beautiful depiction of what it might be like to be a caregiver for a very young Anakin. It's headed for some pretty sad places, to be sure, but there's a lot of sweetness and lovely (sometimes chilling) little insights into his character that I don't otherwise get to see very often. Anyone else with a soft spot for child Ani should go and read it.

'Classic' Vader, between the end of ROTS and the end of ANH - This is an enormous chunk of time, but again, I think it's more helpful than not if I just group these iterations of him together, at least for the purpose of compiling this list. It's horrific and tragic and a devastating waste of potential, but Anakin really does spend a huge amount of time mired in a thick, dark cloud of grief and anger. He convinces himself of a lot of stupid shit during this period in his life: 'Anakin is dead, I'm fulfilling my destiny, I can get Padmé back, she'd love all this ORDER I'm bringing, blah blah blah'. Every ounce of his extraordinary control is purely surface-level; he's a raging wildfire inside for a longer period of time than I think nearly anyone else could realistically sustain (as in, Kylo Ren was always going to die at 30, and I'm surprised I didn't, too lol).

He's empowered by his shitstain of a 'Master' to hurt and kill people against everything that once made him who he was, and no one can know he suffers for it (or for the loss of his wife, or the family he wishes he could have raised with her). No one can know anything about him; he's a man playing a part who can't ever take off his costume. Everything hurts him, and the only places he can turn to for comfort are the battlefield, and the inside of his own head. He has profound disabilities of every imaginable nature, and receives no more than the most cursory physical maintenance to remedy them. He escapes into his missions, but every one of those is a slight against his own better nature. His personal pursuits don't benefit him either; for basically twenty years of his life, he's living in an emotional storm— it ebbs and flows, but it never lets up, and his entire existence is set up specifically to reward the most despicable of his behaviour.

He doesn't make very many genuine emotional breakthroughs, because he's not allowed— just tricked and lied to and manipulated and taken advantage of, even when he's the one ostensibly in 'control'. His life only starts again when Luke comes into it; again, one more reason their connection is so special to me.

I'm going to go ahead and recommend another Anakin/Reader story by a different author; it's called 'mrfiveohone' by DarthDoritos, and it's on ao3. It's a brilliant exploration of what a strange, budding relationship with a youngish Vader might look like, and just an overall beautiful portrait of escalating intimacy on top of that. Another one I would highly recommend (completion status notwithstanding) is called 'Afterimage', and it is by garnettrees, also on ao3. It's a very dark Vaderdala story that gets right inside Anakin's head in the most wonderful ways. He never stops loving Padmé, and in that, he never truly stops being who he is. 

This is the Vader I (admittedly somewhat dramatically) see the most of myself in. It puts us at-odds sometimes, but my urge to get up underneath that mask and make him feel worthy of his own name is insurmountable. I love him because if I didn't, I'd be in trouble. 

Which brings us to TCW Anakin… who is, perhaps, the only version of Anakin I can honestly say I don't care for. Which is fine, because the show itself really isn't my kind of thing. Suffice to say, that particular depiction of him departs so dramatically from any of the other ones I've known (or listed here) that I just can't get into it, no matter how hard I try. 

I'm going to end this with a shout-out to Lego Anakin! I've never seen a shitty version of Lego Anakin, whether in a cartoon or on my desk at home. :)

Thank you for asking, anon. That was fun to write out!

[davidmann95]

So... Crossover #1: any thoughts?

Anonymous said: You seemed not to think much of Crossover #1 on Twitter. Your full thoughts?

wcwit said: So Cates' Crossover #1, best bad comic of the year or just regular pretentious trash?

An incidental note upfront: What you’re seeing there is the apparently SUPER-RARE SECRET VARIANT COVER I unwittingly picked up at the store - at first glance indistinguishable from the standard cover, the kid getting four-color-fucked by mysterious comic book rays is in fact themselves reading a variant cover of the book, rather than the main cover again in an infinite painting-within-a-painting sort of deal that’s the standard.

So I wasn’t gonna get this: my initial post on the comic and what an obviously awful idea it was back when we only knew half the premise and it was known as Pray The Capes Away actually got some out-of-nowhere traction recently, and I’ve grown rapidly tired of Cates’ Marvel work. Even learning that it was going to be Image’s biggest debut in decades - Jesus fuck, how and why - mostly just made me wish it was Commanders in Crisis getting those kinds of numbers. But Sean Dillon/@deathchrist2000 and Ritesh Babu both got early looks at it and assured me that I, specifically, needed to see the last page, so in I dove. I’ll be posting my reaction to the last page below because I recorded it for their amusement, and below that I’ll talk about said last page. It may surprise you, however, that that wasn’t my main takeaway from the issue.

Let’s accentuate the positive first! This book is gorgeous. Geoff Shaw was terrific back with Thanos Wins, but this is an incredible stylistic level-up aided and abetted by Dee Cunniffe’s colors: it’s rote as hell to say “They mix the elevated and the mundane so well!”, but even beyond the obvious ben-day dots stuff there’s such a tangible sense that the comic book beings don’t belong here, that they’re of higher, misty, platonic stuff and we squishy non-paper-people inevitably crumble and break and bleed in their wake, communicating that big idea so much more powerfully than the actual loads of text on the subject. And if we’re talking good things, I’ll concede it’s possible that there could be subtleties that play out in more interesting ways as it goes on, and that not everything is meant to be taken at face value: a smart friend who actually did like it mentioned being interested in it as clumsy but potentially effective exploration of ‘what if the fun hobby you had inadvertently became contaminated and stigmatized by forces beyond your control?’ In a post-Comicsgate world where we recently ended up inches away from the Superman logo almost certainly becoming a fascist propaganda symbol ala the Punisher skull for at least a generation, that’s a defensible lens to view this book through.

For all Donny Cates’ legitimate talents however, I don’t think an expectation of subtlety is gonna work out with this one.

Okay first off getting into the rest of it the main characters’ name is Ellipsis because “Those three little dots...they can become anything”, so there’s that. More importantly, in the world of this story where comic fans face social oppression after superpeople materialize and fuck up Colorado, they face EVERY KIND OF OPPRESSION: there are clear parallels drawn in here to the violence and harassment faced by people persecuted for their religion, people seeking abortions, queer people, and people of color; this motherfucker even drops a “hates and fears” to let us know comic collecting basically makes you one of the goddamn X-Men. Which in theory could be a purely misjudged allegory rather than stemming from actual, obscenely inflated to the point of disgusting fears of ‘nerd oppression’, except that the book literally opens with a quote from Wertham. If Cates didn’t want to make the message “Hating comics? That’s bad. Like, racism bad”, he utterly, grotesquely failed by inextricably intermingling imagery of real-world bigotry with systemic, deluded fanboy paranoia, at least as of this first issue that’s supposed to meaningfully convey the premise. As a queer dude I think I’m somewhat in my lane to say it’s too blunt and broad and dopey to be particularly offensive, but the co-opting of oppression is what this is rooted in.

The idea of ‘comics good no matter what people think, ain’t it?’ extends to the last traditional local comic store standing in this world: much as superheroes are the primary cause of suffering in this world but the point of the story is still supposed to reveal the beauty in them, part of this is that the comics community isn’t perfect but it sure is great. Which is expressed here via Ellie’s boss Otto, a loveable asshole who yells at people coming in trying to sell the wrong kind of comics to fuck off, but at heart is we’re supposed to understand a good enough dude that the shop he runs is “the only home a lot of (the benighted nerds) have left” (because I guess in this alternate universe the physical stores are still the main hub through which comics fans talk with one another?).

So here’s a story of my very own! That’s me in 2013, it must’ve been some kind of special day because I’m wearing a shirt with a button. I’d at that point only frequented one of what would be my thus far four regular comic shops. The first was a great place, and while to say I had a sense of community there would be overstating it a bit, I was on really good terms with the owner and we regularly chatted when we had the time. When I left for college my store there wasn’t as well-stocked, and for some damn reason all variant covers were double-price, but I got along really well with the owner there too. The third I wasn’t so lucky; the guy regularly behind the desk was never overtly hostile, but clearly wanted to wring my neck every time I asked when a missing comic might get in or if I could update my pull list, and given I’m in the ‘ideal’ demographic for being a comic book store regular and was dropping a solid lump of money there every week, I wonder how others were treated there (the store nearly went under, was saved on the last day of operation by another store that wanted to incorporate it as part of its franchise, then shortly afterwards DID go under and is now I believe a beef jerky place). My current store is fine, I didn’t chat much with the folks behind the counter even before we all had medical incentive to get in and out of places fairly quickly but it almost always has what I’m looking for.

Just because those were my regular stores of course doesn’t mean those are the only ones I’ve ever gone to. About a year before that picture was taken - it’s the closest I could find - when I was 17 my store didn’t have something or another I was looking for, so I head across town to see if another place I had looked up had it. This other place didn’t have what I was looking for either, though I distinctly remember picking up a few issues of Hickman’s FF while I was there since I had foolishly fallen off, hence my remembering the year. I bought a couple issues, but hung around for a bit looking to see if I might grab something else out of a dollar box, setting my comics down. Without realizing it, I’d set my books down on top of another issue, and when I decided I wasn’t getting anything else, I just picked that up along with the rest of the pile and was about to walk out before the owner stopped me. He explained what I had done though assumed it had been deliberate, and because I was a good-hearted little geek I even recall thinking “Well, he’s gonna chew me out, but I guess I deserve it. I’ll try and take this to heart as a learning experience.”

Then he pulled up his shirt a little to show me the gun on his belt. He pointed at the security camera monitors at his desk, and explained to me that if I ever did something like that again, he would have it on tape, and he would pull that gun on me and hold me there while he called the cops.

As it turned out, the comic was free.

The whole thing was so sudden and bizarre and unexpected I didn’t actually freak out until the drive home. It wasn’t until weeks or maybe months later that I managed to tell my dad about the experience, because I *had* nearly stolen a (free) comic and my guilt was mixed in with my nerves and I guess I was somehow too close to register just how disproportionate his response was. It wasn’t until now, nearly a decade later and thinking about it for the first time in a long time as I write this, that I wondered if that might have gone differently - especially living in the midwest - if I hadn’t been a white, squeaky-voiced 17-year-old.

So, minor spoiler, when our cantankerous but well-meaning LCS owner yells to call the cops and grabs and yells at a small kid for pocketing a comic (and later displays fantasy racism towards said kid), I am not filled with nostalgic love for the brotherly safe space that is comic book stores, where this guy while not meant to be seen as perfect is still framed in part as a charming, witty representation of Why We Love These Places, And This Community, And This Genre, And This Medium. Cates is clearly drawing on real time at his local stores, but he equally clearly has a very different takeaway from those experiences than me. And I am, again, in a demographic - white, cis-male, abled, bi but more interested in women, disposable income, a lifelong collector - that the industry and a lot of the guys who sell it to us contort themselves around catering to, even if I had a single very negative experience and later an ongoing low-key uncomfortable one to help disabuse me of any notions of the purity of the dork community. In the world of Crossover as of #1, toxicity is intertwined, deliberately or not on the part of the creators, with what we love on the cosmic and small business scales alike, but at least in the latter case it’s the whole picture that’s beautiful, not any single kernel that needs to be worked on to be dug up.

So underneath is my video reaction to the last page of Crossover #1. Very minor spoilers because I mutter the last two words of the comic to myself, but under the video I discuss said final page and some other scattered thoughts. Whether you read that or not, my takeaway is this: I’m fascinated with wherever the hell this thing is going, I’m glad my dad liked it well enough to want to keep getting it because now I’ll get to see where it heads, but my first impression is that this is at heart meant as cheapass Oscar-bait for people who only read Batman. It’s big and high-concept but also small and intimate! It’s meta and about how great you, the reader are for your consumption, especially the consumption of this! It’s going to be in large part about a forbidden love between a couple divided across impermeable social lines (a couple where they’re a seemingly straight white man and woman, but one likes comics)! Maybe it’ll become Not That, and I’m sure it’ll do at least something interesting along the way because Cates has done good stuff before and there are some inherently interesting big ideas for him to play with here, but for the love of god if you’re thinking about getting this buy Commanders in Crisis too or instead, it’s another new book out of Image about superheroes dealing with the collapse of the multiverse but that one is really fucking good.

So the final page splash reveal is that when the comic book child discovered in here got out of Colorado, which has had an impenetrable energy shield erected around it by one of the heroes for years, she and others were ferried out of there...by Superman, as the narration declares that “This is a story...about hope.” They don’t say the word, but she sketches her savior, Ellie and Otto freak out and go “Is that---” when they see it, and on that last page we see that while a crude drawing it isn’t a rough analogue character, it’s a guy with a cape and trunks with an S on his chest. Surprisingly, I don’t have much to say: it’s just another blunt signifier that superheroes rule and are the best, paired with the most utterly devalued notion as of late of what makes Superman special in ‘hope’. I mean, I’m perversely excited to see whether this is building the entire series on a hook it can never deliver on, or if Cates actually has talked DC into an intercompany crossover; believable given they’ve done a bunch of those over the last several years, and why else would Mark Waid be supervising as ‘story editor’ on this? I guess it’ll shake out one way or another with #6 given Cates has said it “has one of the more epic and — I would argue historic — sequences in comic book history in it.” But I’m far less convinced this is gonna truly go into the meaty question of “What does Superman mean and what makes him unique in this world where superheroes in general are indisputably either failures or monstrous bastards given the scale of destruction their presence has brought about, and he himself failed to stop that?” than as some kind of holy grail of how great superheroes are despite how dang violent they’ve gotten these days for the crew to chase after, whatever additional twist will surely be placed upon it. At least he’s kinda helping an immigrant kid get over a wall, if that’s deliberate?

Random final thoughts:

* If I wrote the opening essay and turned it in in a college course, I would be expelled for plagiarizing Grant Morrison. This is not a joke.

* If mainstream American superhero comics ended January 2017 in this universe, its own last ‘crossover’ was Civil War II, which is hilarious.

* God, please tell me if it takes the dive after all that this isn’t somehow tied into whatever Waid’s Superman project is.

* I wouldn’t normally crap on issues with the finer details of worldbuilding, but A. This is rooted in a nominally ‘real’ world playing by recognizable rules, B. I’m ragging on this anyway so what’s the harm, and C. It’s really obvious. So: Why is one of the racists against the superheroes the guy who loves superheroes so much he’s the last holdout in the entire world still selling comic books about them? How does this modestly-sized shop exist long-term with apparently a significant regular customer base if there are no new comics or even reprints to restock with, ever? Who’s buying the serialized cop/cowboy comics that the U.S. government apparently created pretty much overnight (nobody, it’s just another Wertham dig)?

* The solicit for issue #3 proclaims “Don't miss this one, folks. If you do, it just might drive you...mad.”, so now I fear some kind of Ultra Comics riff.

* “Kids love chains” is the most metal-ass quote of all time and I hate that it’s being wasted as an arc title on this book.

[insxparablxduo]

Drabble based on my fantasy au. It’s ok if u don’t read as y’know its an au and not cannon but yeah I had fun with this one.

Oh, this was annoying as fuck. 

At first fighting a dancer and a soldier class seemed easy. Almost stupidly so. Surely they were left behind to die here by them or any other group brave enough to challenge him. Right? Wrong. 

If it was true they'd have killed the twins by now. Maybe they shouldn't have underestimated them so much. The truth of the matter was they were left in charge of this keep under direct commands from their 'master'. They were part of the cause for so many peoples suffering, and they had done it willingly? They weren't even the first 'boss' they've fought, so clearly they were a lot stronger than what meets the eye, and they were learning that lesson now. 

Dancers are known to be fairly weak and incredibly vulnerable to attacks, especially since they wore little to no armor. Their attacks weren't all that powerful either as they weren't particularly strong nor did most really even know what to do with weapons other than to block or even parry. The only difficult thing about them was they were hard to hit, but would go down easy just with a couple of attacks. 

Soldiers on the other hand wore hefty armor and carried great swords or a sword and a heavy and thick shield. This one wasn't very different. He had a great sword and pretty bulky armor. Which meant they would just have to chip away at his armor since he had no other protection. 

This fight should've been fairly easy. Especially with how much stronger they got to make it all the way up here. This should've been so easy, fighting 10 waves of their grunts back to back should've been easier.

Oh, how wrong they were.

First off, since when the fuck did dancers get so strong? It made sense to target and pick her off first since she was clearly the weakest. Whenever they tried to attack her via magic, sword, arrow, whatever her brother would always get in the way and cover for her. No matter how many of them went to attack her. It became clear if they wanted to attack her they would have to get rid of the brother first. No matter, dancers didn't really do much, but give their teammates a little motivation that helped them fight just a bit better, right? Wrong again.

Apparently they also had the capability to wake those who were passed out. They had targeted all of their attacks on her brother and paid her absolutely no mind. All she was doing was dancing without seemingly a care in the world or mind to what was going on around her. Slowly they had worn down her brother.  The only challenging thing at first is he would look at her and suddenly his attacks would get much stronger, or somehow he was much more agile than he should be, and he was evading more blows than should be possible. 

When they spared her a glance they would find themselves entranced and open to attacks or a fog would come over their minds and when they came out of it apparently they were fighting their other teammates. Matt seemed to have the later problem the most. Distantly, Janne remembers that dancers danced to please the gods. Considering how effective she was, she must've been favored by the gods. Or perhaps she was so skilled they couldn't help, but favor her? Either way, she was annoying.

When her brother fell, they let out a collective sigh of relief. He was much harder to take down then he should've been. They were already pretty exhausted. Their health was pretty low, and they didn't have many curative lefts. They would have to end this soon.

That proved to be harder than first thought. Maybe it was something about these two. There was a lot more than met the eye. 

The first obstacle in fighting her was they actually had to look at her now. Her moves were now affecting them a lot more now that they weren't just glancing at her. Her first set made them a lot slower. Janne did his best to attack her with his arrows, but she seemed to weave through them gracefully as if they were a part of her dance. Anytime Mat or Kataya got closer to her, they seemed to either immediately get charmed (Mat more so than Kat) by her once again or just completely missed her.

Despite most of Mat’s attacks coming from above as he jumped ridiculous high up and slammed down with all intentions to spear right through her, he would always miss by a hair as she just slightly moved out of his way. Even with Kataya backing him up by staying firmly on the ground fighting toe to toe on her. Sometimes the dancer would move out of the way and Kataya would follow her only to barely miss getting speared by Mat as he came down. Kat seemed to have the most luck as she managed to cut up her shaw that she twirled around and even the lightest cuts on her person. Still, for the most part she seemed to escape their reach and even got the two to almost hit each other and my own arrows weren’t helping much. 

Even as the two kept trying to hit her with their lance and sword she would just avoid it all no matter how fast they seemed to be, she was faster. It almost looked the three of them were dancing with the way Kat swung her sword and Mat tried to pierce through and stab her, she just weaved around it all, keeping the same grace she had once they started. Eventually Matt or Kat would move back to catch their breath, giving him and Lina a better opening to try and hit her. 

Lina being the only mage of the group took pride in her roll. He knew she had to be exhausted by now, but she maintained the same power as she kept attacking. Her attacks seemed to have the most success, but every now and then the girl would just hop around her magic as if it was nothing. Before they could even think of a plan to take her down, she did a couple backflips away from them. What was she gaining distance for?

She closed her eyes as she started her next dance. The group tried their best to stop her, but somehow she continued to avoid all their attacks. Her set seemed to be over, and she collapsed for a moment painting and looking up at the sky. Suddenly the clouds broke and a warm tray of sunlight enveloped her and her brother. Grass seemed to grow around his passed out body, and then he got up. 

Oh fuck.

It just got harder from there.

The two groups fought in a frenzy eager to get this over with already. The sister that just stayed behind was now attacking them too after she got up again. Janne switched to being a bard. Collapsing his bow back into a lyre, he sang to give his own team some motivation as it was clear his own attacks were doing little to nothing. On the bright side, this seemed to stop Matt from getting charmed by the sister. The not so bright side it somehow made the sisters dancers stronger. Even as he sang ancient tales and played beautiful music that made his teammates buzz with unrivaled energy that they needed to keep going. It also made his enemies crawl with anxiety. Still, she danced to the rhythm but, seemingly unaffected and danced in a way that counteracted the effect of his own singing.

It seemed that a battle of the arts has now started between the two.

As he kept singing she kept dancing and neither planned to stop till they became the victor. This was also a battle of skill and endurance and Janne didn’t plan to lose. He was regarded as not only the best storyteller in his caravan, but also in many other villages as well. He knew countless stories and had a fine ear for music. Despite his age, he had already masted the lyre. Her dancing would be no match for him.

Sometime after their own little battle began, she started to throw knives. Taking on a more active role to fight them. Still she didn’t stop dancing. Was she showing off? Unfortunately this left her a little more opening to attacks and Kataya focused in on her. 

As the battleground became littered with knives, when had to wonder where was she keeping all of this? Another was when would she run out? Soon enough, that was answered as she reached behind her and suddenly the chains that she had wrapped around her upper body fell to the floor.

After that she seemed to be more focused on fighting then dancing as she started to wield a chain mace. Her agility was still ever apparent of course. She had disguised her true weapon, (?) as something decorative, this whole time. She must be getting desperate as her brother seemed ready to fall again. Despite being awoken at seemingly full strength after being passed out, his moves were more sluggish and weaker. 

Janne considers this a win. Still, he doubts his arrows would be much help, so he continues his supportive role as a bard. 

It wasn’t much longer before they finally managed to win the battle against these ‘generals’. The group has never been so relived before. They barely managed to survive that with the skim of their teeth. The thought of having to fight another general makes them uneasy. If they wanted to fight their leader and not only win but survive, they would need to get much stronger. This battle was proof of how much harder it was going to get from here on. This battle was much harder than the last 5 ‘bosses’ before them.

[luci-cunt]

Tell me about Magneto🤭

MAY YOU CAN’T SEE IT BUT IM KISSING YOU SO PASSIONATELY RIGHT NOW

Ok so listeeennnn tooooo meeeee, okokokok, so a while ago I went on this James McAvoy bender--don’t ask--and I saw he was in the X-Men movies, whic hi haven’t watched since the Wolverine movies/ Last Stand when I was like, actually a baby. So anyways I flipped them on thinking “yeah what could go wrong?” except I watched them in the wrong order

Anyways here’s an essay on why neither Erik or Prof X was right and the actual answer would be to compromise and these movies how how because they’re both too stubborn and couldn’t it destroyed their friendship and fucked everything up. 

Also the fact that X-Men: First Class is the best Villain origin story to ever cross the screen.

Ok so spoilers ahead for X-Men: Days of Future Past and X-Men: First Class

Now, it should be noted that I’m no an X-Men expert I just love these two movies. 

So for some context: First Class and Days of Future Past are both kind of prequels, except DoFP is a prequel-sequel?? becuase of time travel?? I’ll explain don’t worry. The point is, they take place in the past where all the characters are younger. James McAvoy plays Professor X (who I’ll just be calling X for this whole thing), Michael Fassbender plays Magneto (aka Erik), oh and Jennifer Lawrence plays Mystic--who will be appearing in this essay XDD. 

Alright so first of all have a plot summary: DoFP is about Wolverine getting sent back in time so he can convince a younger Prof X to stop Raven (aka Mystic) from getting caught by this guy Trask who then uses her DNA to create super weapons that irradiate all mutants. The current future Wolverine is in, he, prof X, Magneto, and a few other mutants are trying their best to survive but it’s a losing battle and their only hope is to literally change the past. 

This one takes place after the events of First Class, which I will now explain. 

So in First Class a younger Prof X and Magneto team up to find and recruit bb mutants to X’s school because the government wants to use Mutants to help fight the Russians (oh head this takes placee in the 1960′s right before the Cuban Missile Crisis). This is essentially a Magneto origin story and also--in my opinion--the best villain origin story to ever cross the screen. 

OK so now some details on our main characters: 

Magneto/ Erik Lehnsherr: a literal holocaust survivor who’s only goal in the begining of the story is hunting/ killing nazi’s, specifically one nazi who tortured him specifically and I will get into him later don’t worry. 

Professor X: super smart rich white boy with a heart of gold but also enough naivete to make a lamb look like a Stephen King character. 

Already you can see very stark differences between the two of them. Erik is set up as being a staunch pessimist while X is a vivid optimist, and that makes sense. X’s grown up sheltered and never wanting for anythign while Erik suffered a trainwreck of the greatest traumas in human existence hitting him over and over and over again from like age fucking 9. 

Ok also tehre’s J-Law’s character Raven, who is a mutant that can change her skin to look like anythign she wants it to but her actual form is blue/ scaly/ “not pretty” (bullshit but ok). She met X when she broke into his house one night to steal some food and then they became friends, their relationship will become important later but for now that’s all u need to know. 

ok so anyways, in the begining of First Class Erik is hunting + killing Nazi’s, specifically looking for this one called Schmidt because when Erik was little he and his family were carted away to a concentration camp where Schmidt witness Erik use his metal bending powers and decided to “train” him. aka physically/ mentally abuse him for years. The whole thing starts with Schmidt trying to get Erik to lift a metal coin with his mind, when he can’t (because he’s a child who didn’t even know he had his powers until literally hours ago) Schmidt puts his mother’s life on the line and when he still can’t Schmidt kills her. This sends Erik it’s a rage and he crushes some nazi heads but then Schmidt is still standing and mentions how “oh gotcha, so it’s rage and pain that’s the key to your powers huh?” anyways this tidbit and the coin will become important later trust me--

Meanwhile Prof X is graduating from Oxford/ generally being an idiot pretty boy. He’s a telepath who knows about his powers and has used them from an early age. He also wrote some big paper on mutants, which gets the attention of an FBI agent who witnesses the villains being mutants and wants his advice

However, the villains just so happen to be Schmidt, who’s going by “Shaw” now, so when X and the agents catch up to him Erik is already there and on a mission to murder his ass. Some bs happens, Erik tries to pull a submarine out of the water but can’t (T-T this will be important) and X jumps into the water to stop him because the mental stress is literally killing him. 

That’s how they meet. 

It’s important to note: up until this point, Erik didn’t know there were other mutants, so meeting X, who’s friends with Raven, is kind of a big deal for him. He and X become very fast friends and also have a very homoerotic montage where they become dads for a bunch of mutant teenagers, because they realize they can use X to track all these baby mutants, collect them, and train them so they don’t grow up fearing their powers. 

Anyways, the other thing about this is that now that Erik has this newfound group of people that are just like him, he’s opening up, and X is helping him realize he’s actually so much more powerful when he taps into happy memories rather than fueling himself on pain and rage. This scene always makes me sob oh my god--

Also, fellas--is it gay to “access the brightest cortex” of your homies memories and remind him that hate and pain are not good motivators before reminding him that he has good memories he can draw on and showing him that his life has not been entirely painful?

YEs, the answer is yes are u shitting me??

ok so anyways--something to note about this is that X and Erik are both very protective of all their new kids, but Erik is especially so. I’m going to be getting into this more but just tab thsi thought for later :)

Now, the plot’s kicking up a bit, because it’s at this point that Erik and X capture one of Shaw’s (aka the nazi’s) main lackies and they question her until she gives them the info that Shaw’s planning on using the Cuban Missile Crisis tensions to start a nuclear war to wipe out all humans so that only mutants survive in the new world. 

Obviously they want to stop him, but also, you can kind of tell that Erik is not totally against this plan, which only gets to be more later but that’s for later. 

Right now I wanna take a quick break to talk about Raven--aka Mystic, aka J-Law. She and X were childhood friends and she kind of clung to him because she doesn’t have family/ anyone she can really be herself around besides him. 

X insistently says throughout the movie he sees her as a sister, but it’s kinda obvious she’d be down to fuck. She has this big plotline where she keeps trying to get X to understand why it’s so frustrating for her to have to be using energy to look “human.” Because her natural form is the one with the blue skin. X doesn’t understand this because his power is easy to hide, it’s simple for him to just fake-human and have no one be any wiser, Raven, however, doesn’t have that luxury and when she tries to explain this to X it just flies over his head, insisting she hide her natural self to better fit in if that’s what she really wants. 

Queue Erik, who comes in as a king of self love. He’s pretty blunt about it, but his point is basically “you’re wasting energy by constantly pretending you’re something you’re not--stop” and she responds essentially with “yeah but then no one will like me” to which he responds “then make them.”  

Raven’s relationship with both the boys is used through both First Class and DoFP to really highlight their faults. X believes humans and mutants can coexist but he thinks we go about doign that by completely ignoring the pages of history of abuse mutants have suffered--and it’s mostly because he hasn’t experienced it. 

Erik on the other hand will do everything and anything he possibly can to protect his new family/ people, and in his head that means exterminating any and all threats. By the end of the movie--humans become one of those threats. 

The point of this whole ramble is that: they both represent utter opposites, BUT, X’s blind optimism and Erik’s blind pessimism are equally bad.

Ok so back to plot for a second to prove this. 

Shaw is revealed to be a mutant himself and he also has a helmet that can block telepathy. (yes it’s the magneto helmetjasjd;fkjaskl;dfjasldkj jsut wait).

His plan’s complicated but basically: he’s going to poke America and Russia until they pop and incite a nuclear war. And it works. The whole pre-climax of the film sees X, Erik, Raven, and the other mutants all working double time to stop Shaw’s plan (AND IT INVOLVES ERIK SUCCESSFULLY PULING A SUBMARINE OUT OF THE WATER!!! BECAUSE NOW HE’S USING HAPPINESS INSTEAD OF ANGER/ PAIN!!!). 

Anywho, they’re doing all this, but then some bullshit happens, the plane they’re on crashes oh and -- yeah there’s this part where Erik uses himself as a seatbelt for X it’s fantastic but anyways--

This is finally the climax of the film. 

Also possibly the greatest scene in film history in my humble opinion. 

Because listen--in order to stop Shaw they need the helmet off of him so that X can telepathically freeze his ass and they can arrest him or whatever. So they split up--Erik rushes into the wreckage to find Shaw and X stays behind ready to freeze the guy as soon as the helmet comes off but--

Well, vengence is just too tempting. 

So when Erik gets Shaws helmet off, X freezes the guy, and he’s ecstatic, at least until he realizes Erik plans on killing Shaw. 

He’s pleading with Erik because this is vengence and he can’t chose that but Erik just puts on the helmet and--taunts Shaw, pulling out the coin Shaw taunted him with all those years ago and in a mimickry of the game Shaw forced him to play as a child and killed his mother over--he slowly floats the coin at Shaws head, telling him “I’m going to count to ten, and all you have to do is move.” 

But he can’t--because X is holding him--and that’s the point, Erik wants him as helpless as he was, and X can’t let his hold on Shaw go because that would mean putting Erik in danger but he’s also in Shaws head so he feels the coin go through his head as though Erik was doing it to him and the fucking cinematography in this scene is so fuaksdjf;laksjd;fjasd;lkfjadsl;asdjf;ljL:DKJFL:SDKJFL:D KFUCKKKKK

This scene is cinematic perfection don’t fucking lOOK at me unless you agree.

T-T and then, it only gets worse, because now Erik’s finally finished his original purpose--killing the man who killed his mother and ruined his life--and now he’s got a new one, aka protecting his new family aka the mutants. 

AND HE’S ONLY PROVEN RIGHT THAT HUMANS ARE A THREAT BECAUSE THEY TURN AND TRY TO KILL ALL THE MUTANTS IN THE PLANE CRASH AND JSUT--

And so he stops all the missiles flying their way, and turns them around on the humans and X has to stop him but he’s not listening and the rawest fucking line in the whole movie comes when X says

“There’s hundreds of men on those ships--innocent men. They’re just following orders!” 

And Erik simply replies, “I’ve been at the mercy of men ‘just following orders’--never again.” 

And then he goes to blow up the shipsthen one of the other characters goes to shoot Erik and he deflects the bullet wtihout thinking right. into. X’s. back. 

Paralysing him. 

And just akjd;fjasdflkjasd;lfkj this scene speaks for itself

Listen just--akjdsf;ljasdlk jguys this movie has no right being this good.

And then the movie closes off with X and Erik literally begging one another to just see it their way--because they both want so badly to be on the same side but they’re too stubborn and they refuse to see compromise and just ajkdf;lja;sdkfja;sdljkfsadlkf

Ok I realize now that I barely talked about DoFP but this is already so long. The major things I was going to bring up was teh absolutely fantastic bitter exes energy that McAvoy and Fassbender bring to that movie it’s excellent but also the fact that X is literally the only person Erik goes out of his way not to kill despite standing directly in the way of Erik’s goal. 

Like, you remember my whole deal with Raven??? yeah that’s x10 in DoFP (which takes place quickly after this movie) yeah so her and Erik are close, and shown to be close, but the second he thinks she endangers his fam he literally 180′s so quick and tries to straight up murder her. 

BUT HE FUCKING BENDS THE BULLET AROUND X’s HEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! X!!!!!!!!!! WHO’S LITERALLY 100% AGAINST HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JUST

Ok, that’s all. By the way I don’t want to like, up your expecations too much because I actually kind of hate X-Men: First Class almost as much as I love it?? it’s very..... of it’s era, and cheesy, and dumb--but fucking magneto you guys holy SHIT

[asleepinawell]

hiii not sure if it’s okay to ask a poi question but here it goes - i recall seeing you expressing (at least some level of) discontent with what Harold has done on the show (to root, to shaw and all those hypocritical decisions throughout). would you like to share more about your thoughts on this character? tks

always okay to ask poi questions. since the fandom is pretty small these days i was going to put my answer under a read more line so people could ignore it more easily if it’s a subject that bothers them but apparently you can’t add read more lines in ask answers? thanks tumblr! so if this is a topic that annoys anyone, please, just skip it. also, while some of this is facts or based on facts a lot of stuff is obviously my opinion and therefore not canon and not the only opinion etc etc.

in general, i wasn’t crazy about the way harold treated any of the other characters (with the exception of john who he had a pretty great relationship with). for root, there was the refusal to call her root, which i found very gross and uncomfortable (like, in general you should respect what people ask to be called, but also it was linked to the traumatic death of her childhood friend and he absolutely knew that so fuck that shit). he even said something along the lines of 'john reese is what you prefer to be called' to john right in the first episode? he was okay with using reese's fake name, but not hers because he made her identity into a power game.

he also tended to be..hmm, patronizing is the wrong word (and lbr root was extremely patronizing to everyone) but more that he treated her like ‘rehabilitating’ her was his pet project or something. i mean one thing that always struck me was his ‘what happened to you’ line in bad code and then the subsequent decision to put her in a mental institution instead of, you know, jail, which is where every other perp they ran into tended to go. he saw her as broken and flawed and in need of his help which, to me, came off as hypocritical and belittling.

also, putting someone in a psychiatric institution where they get pumped full of drugs when they don’t need to be? really fucked up! even if you argue root needed therapy/was depressed whatever, that’s not what they were treating her for. they were treating her for ‘delusions’ and ‘hearing voices’ which were...real things. like, the machine was speaking to her. harold knew that. he let her get put on all sorts of medication and put in solitary confinement and oh yes also her doctor was a really fucked up dude, something harold could easily have dug up if he’d bothered. also the whole ‘killing off a woman to advance a man’s character development thing’ is, uh, a bad trope. to put it mildly. i could write a lot more about his shit with root but let’s move on.

in some ways, his attitude towards shaw bothers me most. he consistently treats her like she’s violent and unhinged because she has aspd and despite the large amount of evidence to the contrary. she is, in fact, the most cool and controlled member of the team (not counting carter) and the least likely to go off half-cocked. shaw does play into this, but mostly only with harold and only through her words, not her actions. she knows what he thinks of her. when she’s captured by samaritan, harold gives up on her very quickly in a way he would never have done for john (and probably not for root either at that point). shaw’s reaction to sim!harold in 6741 of ‘did you even look for me’ says a lot about what she thinks he thinks of her. his whole ‘binary moral compass’ line to her is also, uh, heavily projecting. shaw and carter had the strongest moral compasses of the group. by a long shot. 

moving on to the machine. so first and foremost, if you’re creating a sentient being, whether that’s having a kid or making a self-aware AI, you don’t create something with the intention of locking it up and ignoring it forever. (and he was creating her for the bush/cheney administration???? who TM pointed out was terrible if he somehow had managed to miss that. root called them something like the worst people imaginable and she wasn’t exaggerating). was it too dangerous to let TM be free from the get go? maybe! but then don’t fucking make an AI you think can destroy the world, buddy. there are a lot of reasons he made TM and none of them make this acceptable to me. once TM had clearly proven to be not a threat and trying to help he continued to ignore her and act like she was dangerous.

harold always needed very badly to feel like he had the moral high ground and not be the person who made a bad decision, which yes, is probably partly due to the trauma from what happened to nathan but that doesn’t make it okay when being paralyzed by being unable to make a decision got people killed. more than once! also, most of his morals got tossed out when they weren’t convenient. wouldn’t kill the senator to save the world because killing is bad! next episode he’s like if anything happens to grace kill all of them. cool story, still murder.

i wanna conclude this rant by talking about harold as a character vs harold as a person. meaning, harold as a fictional character who is used as a narrative device in a story as opposed to harold himself without the context of him being fictional. i don’t mind characters who say and do things i dislike. it’s very important to have characters you dislike as people imo. feels like an understatement. but lambet, for example, is a slimy asshole. the story is aware of this. he gets an ending a slimy asshole deserves. harold has a lot of flaws, and causes a lot of damage, gets his friends killed, and his stubborn refusal to budge on his arbitrary moral high ground lets samaritan take over and almost makes team machine lose. he gets a happy ending. with the woman he lied to (and caused a lot of pain and grief by lying to). root ends up dead, shaw gets tortured and fights her way back for root only to have her die which is kind of handwaved as ‘well she has tm with root’s voice good enough’, and john, after having rediscovered his will to live and have a life in the end of s4 goes right back to his whole dying for someone else thing. only harold gets the happy ending.

the show was actually pretty good at highlighting harold’s flaws and making them interesting, and then it kind of forgot that at the end in terms of story outcome. like, if harold had suffered enough to get a happy ending, then why didn’t anyone else get one? so my annoyance was with the narrative’s failure to satisfactorily conclude the characters’ arcs. (and for the record, i’m not one of the people who think he should have died. i don’t think it would have served a point. also death doesn’t equal redemption to me).

so, yeah, not a fan of him. don’t write him in my fics since my dislike would take time and focus away from writing about the people i do like. would probably be less bitter if they’d ended the show better. i was 300k words fic level of bitter. there was some post i saw going around recently about how if your found family show doesn’t end up with your found family together then you’ve kind of missed the whole point of found family and yeah, that.

[bad-boy-spanker]

Austere Academy:Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Green extended his hand, Jack was taken aback by the kindness in his eyes, this was the guy who spanked men to tears, he looked friendly, caring, maybe AJ was just trying to mess with him, Jack smiled & shook Green's hand warmly.

"Jack Moore, nice to meet you, Gaz"

Green chuckled to himself.

"Thank you, now I don't mind you calling me Gaz while we're alone, but if we're around others, it's probably better that you call me sir"

Call him sir, was this guy taking the piss, they were the same age.

"Now, before we get to the tour, there's some business we need to take care of"

Green led Jack over to AJ.

"AJ here told me that you kept him waiting, normally I would spank you for that, but AJ should have given you the brochure before giving you your uniform, you didn't know the rules yet, AJ did, so you will not be getting spanked, AJ will"

Jack didn't know what to say, wasn't AJ was staff, he wasn't going to spank a member of staff, was he, Jack watched as Green unclasped AJ's trousers, & pulled them down to his ankles, his Calvin Klein's soon joined them, Jack noticed the pink spots on AJ's arse where Green had slapped him, Jack already thought AJ had a nice arse, it looked even better bare, you could see the fine hairs that covered it & what looked like faint marks, maybe from a recent caning, Green sat on the bonnet of the car, grabbed AJ by the ear, & bent him over his knee, the first hard slap landed on AJ's unsuspecting arse, bringing Jack back to his senses, a red handprint was now forming over the pink spot on AJ's left arse cheek, soon followed by a similar one on the right, as Green spanked, he began admonishing AJ.

"This is the second time this has happened AJ, you're a senior, I expect better"

Jack now understood what was going on, AJ was a senior, not staff, he thought it couldn't be right a staff member getting spanked, Green spanked AJ hard & fast, barely taking a second between slaps.

"Ah-ha"

The pain had started to build in AJ's bum, he moved from side to side trying to escape Green's punishing strikes, but Green held him in place, he began focusing some of his spanks on AJ's thighs, causing AJ to buck.

"Ah-ha-ha"

Jack winced as he watched Green punish AJ, he felt for him, it was a mistake, mind you, if AJ hadn't said anything, it would be Jack in his position, his arse red & burning, after a few more minutes of harsh spanking AJ, began to cry out.

"Ah-ha-ha, I'm sorry sir, ah, it was a simple mistake, ah, it won't happen again"

Green kept on spanking, tears formed in AJ's eyes, his bum was stinging badly, he couldn't take it, he started crying.

"Please, sir, I'm sorry, please"

Green stood AJ up & bent him over the car, bending down to retrieve the belt out of AJ's trousers, which he folded & handed to Jack, Jack took the belt, confused as to why Green gave it to him, but Green's intention soon became apparent.

"Now AJ, it's only fair that Jack here has some part in your punishment, as it would have been his bare bottom I was spanking if you hadn't told me the truth, he's going to give you five with the belt, then we're done"

Still sobbing, AJ nodded his head, Green guided Jack into position behind AJ & gave him the go-ahead, Jack didn't want to spank AJ, he'd never spanked anyone before, he fumbled a bit but eventually raised the belt & brought it down on AJ's burning arse.

"Ah"

Jack felt terrible, he could already see a welt forming, but he swung again.

"Ah-ha"

Jack whipped three, four & five down quickly, but not with much force, still enough to make AJ writhe, his sore red arse jiggling as he did, Green gave a bit of a disapproving look, he didn't want Jack letting AJ off easily.

"Ah-ha-ha"

The last one had to be good, Jack didn't want to end up in Green's bad books, he drew his arm high & slammed the belt into AJ's arse.

"Ah-ha-ha-ha ha-ha"

AJ remained bent over just sobbing as Jack handed the belt back to Green, Green rubbed the boys back & helped him pull his shorts up, AJ wiped his face & put his belt back on, he threw his arms around Green, who hugged him back equally as tight, Jack didn't understand how AJ could hug the guy who had just spanked, AJ & Green hugged for a minute or so, AJ promising it wouldn't happen again, & Green reassuring him it was forgotten, AJ said goodbye to Jack & ran inside, still rubbing his sore bum, Green turned to Jack.

"Well, now you've seen how I deal with lateness, I trust you'll be at all your lessons on time, Jack"

Too fucking right, Jack thought, no way he wanted to be on the receiving end of that.

"Yes, sir"

Green's smile reappeared.

"Quick learner, that'll serve you well here, come on, I'll show you around"

Green put his arm around Jack's shoulders & led him inside, as they entered the main building, Jack was taken aback by how modern the décor was, from the outside it looked like an old, stuffy, boarding school, the interior, however, was chic, light grey walls, with light wood floors & sleek, comfy looking furniture, as Jack was admiring some of the artwork, Green was explaining the role of a senior.

"Being a senior means you can be trusted to have certain privileges, like AJ, for example, he's our driver, he picks up new students, seniors are still students, but they have responsibilities, they are also authorized to enforce discipline"

Jack turned his head at Green's last comment before he had time to ask a question, Green walked him into a classroom, it was filled with young men, all dressed in white shirts, with black ties & black trousers, each at an individual desk, all sat in front of a MacBook, Jesus they got fucking MacBook's, how was this place a reform school.

"This is the finance class, run by Mr. Ian Shaw, sorry to interrupt Mr. Shaw, just showing the new lad round"

The man stood at the front of the class turned his head, fuck he's gorgeous, he had shaggy dark hair, a stubbly chin & icy blue eyes, like some sort of vampire, he was wearing dark blue jeans, a bluey grey button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, he had to be in his early forties, total DILF, big shoulders & a nice arse, Jack was enchanted.

"No worries, Mr. Green, I was just teaching Stephen Allen here a lesson in listening"

Jack was so busy drooling over Mr. Shaw, he failed to notice the man bent over the desk, his trousers around his ankles, & his smooth, toned arse, a bright shade of red, before Jack could process, Shaw slammed a plimsoll down on the lowest part of Stephens arse, Stephen let out a loud cry, without missing a beat Shaw, slapped down four swats, Stephen wriggled over the desk, Jack thought he'd probably do the same.

"Are you ready to listen to me now"

"Yes, sir"

Stephen choked out between sobs.

"Good, now stand up, put your hands on your head, & make your way to the wall"

As Stephen stood up, Jack gasped, Stephen was easily in his late thirties, dark blonde hair, buzzed short all over, a trimmed beard, with sad, blue eyes, he was a full-grown man, & here he was in tears, with his red arse on display, Green & Shaw exchanged pleasantries, as Jack stood shocked at what had unfolded, he was getting a few leering stares from some of the guys, not that he minded, there were some good looking lads in this class, Jack was finding it hard to believe that they were all ok with what had just happened, Stephen was a grown man & he willingly bent over to get his bare arse spanked, like a petulant teenager, why did they just take it, before they left to head to Green's office, Green turned to Stephen.

"I’ll see you tonight, Stephen”

Stephen looked at Green miserably, his eyes still red from crying, he gave a sniffle as they left, & Green confirmed to Jack that he would be giving Stephen an over the knee spanking before bed, Jack felt sorry for Stephen, his arse already looked so sore, he wondered how anybody could take another spanking, after what Stephen had just suffered, his thoughts were disrupted however when he was bumped into.

“Watch where you’re going”

It was that Callum guy from the brochure, before Jack could respond, Green delivered a harsh slap to Callum’s pert arse.

“Callum, where are your manners, apologize right now”

Callum huffed & sarcastically smiled at Jack.

“Sorry, newbie”

Green rolled his eyes.

“Don’t start, Callum”

Callum smirked at Green.

“Whatever”

Jack smiled at Callum’s attitude, Green wasn’t so impressed, five slaps landed on Callum’s arse, making him squirm.

“Owah”

Callum glared at Green, after the spanking Green gave AJ, Jack couldn’t believe Callum would dare answer Green back.

“Get moving Callum”

Callum sauntered off, despite his bravado, Jack noticed Callum rubbing his arse as he strutted down the hall.

“You’d be wise to steer clear of Callum there, he’s been on punishment parade for the past three months, I’d demote him from senior, but deep down, he’s a good lad, just got a bad attitude, which usually dissipates after he’s spent some time over my knee”

Jack thought about Callum’s tight arse bent over Green’s knee, he’d love to see that, Callum kicking his legs as Green spanked away his cocky attitude, he was getting hard just thinking about it, he discreetly covered his bulge as they entered Green’s office & sat down.

“Now that you’ve had the tour Jack, any questions”

Of course, he had questions, could the seniors spank other students, why did they just take it, was the mouth soaping thing real, he wanted to know everything but didn’t know where to start, so said nothing.

“Not really sir”

Green smiled at Jack, he could tell he was a bit shaken up, they all were when they first arrived, he’d adjust in time.

“Then there’s only one thing to cover before you’re dismissed.

Jack nervously shifted in his seat, he had a feeling he wasn't going to like what Green had to say.

“It’s time for your first Austere Spanking”