#i mean i am assuming its supposed to be dis. hmm the implications of that is :3

[funnysideblog]

also ohhh the difference between the architecture of lust and heresy (like dis or like in p-2) a city for dammed humans vs a city for fallen angels. Quite silly

[obwjam]

would you be able to do a Mandalorian/Pedro Pascal x borrower??

I guess the plot would be where grogu finds the borrower, the borrower is like terrified to death and then mando finds them, and like he has to do something that’ll make them trust him or something?

btw i’ve been reading your stories and prompts like for two hours straight and i just wanna say that i would stay up all night reading your works instead of doing anything else i love them so much 🥺❤️

also, it’s totally okay if you don’t want to, or have a reason not to, i have no idea if you’re still doing requests and stuff or anything. thank you so much though!

ugh oh my gosh thank you thank you!!!! i love to be a sponsor of procrastination. keep up the good work. i truly love the idea of grogu just unknowingly terrorizing a tiny and i’m way overdue to write some mando g/t so let’s go!!!

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Din Djarin found you running for your life, nearly tripping over yourself and screaming so loud that he was sure the entire planet could hear. He was confused at first -- he had never seen a borrower before, and it took him a moment to register what exactly was going on. 

What were you running from exactly? Well, you didn’t know what it was, but it had giant ears, tiny arms, outstretched hands and could waddle as fast as you could run. You recognized the look in its eyes, too. One word: food.

“GROGU! NO!” 

At the sound of another voice, you whipped your head up and subsequently tripped over a rock. You slammed into the ground, gathering yourself for a moment before flipping yourself over and gasping at the sight.

At this point, you kind of wish that fall had killed you. The only thing worse than a bloodthirsty creature trying to eat you was the human who owned it. And, god, you couldn’t even tell where this human started and where he ended. He was covered head-to-toe in shiny metal armor, complete with a dark helmet and some gnarly looking weapons. He looked like a giant-and-a-half. You were done for.

Din cocked his head, tapping the side of his helmet to do a quick scan of you. The scan didn’t tell him much, but it showed him you were four inches tall and scared out of your wits. He frowned at how badly you were shaking.

He held Grogu out in front of him and tilted his head down. “No. No. You can’t be doing that. You hear me? Don’t do that again. No.”

Grogu stared back blankly with a smile and a patoo. Din rolled his eyes and plopped him into his pod before turning his full attention to you. He was surprised that you hadn’t tried to run away, but truth be told, you were frozen in fear. When a human was involved, there was nowhere to run.

Slowly, Din crouched down, trying to a closer look without looming too much. It was impossible to do that, but he was trying. A pang of guilt shot through his stomach as he peered down at you, cowering and starting to cry. Oh boy. 

“Hey, hey...” he started, holding his hands up to show he wasn’t going to do anything. At the movement of his hands, you flinched and moved your arms up to cover your face. 

Din hummed. “No, no. See?” He waved his hands a little. “No weapons. Nothing.”

You gave this curious giant the side-eye. He was clearly a warrior, or a bounty hunter of some kind. Why was he trying to be peaceful?

“What are you doing out here, little guy?” he tried, the helmet masking the true sound of his voice. “There’s a lot of imps around here. It’s not safe.”

You raised an eyebrow, confused as to what imps were, but all of your words were stuck in your chest. You couldn’t tell where this giant was looking or what he was thinking. Not to mention he was absolutely huge. Those boots could crush you in an instant.

“Hmm.” Din spent most of his days talking to a baby who couldn’t speak basic, so this should not have been as big of a challenge as it was. But you were clearly terrified out of your mind with the way your gaze was locked forward and how badly you were trembling. You looked like you were about to vomit. 

“Uh, do you... do you have a name?”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. Din was about to try another question when the sound of blaster fire filled the air. You both looked toward the source of the sound, and Din quickly whipped his head back to you.

“You need to get out of here. There are some really angry guys coming this way.”

As soon as the giant shifted his position, you assumed the worst. “No!” you cried. “No, pl-please. I... I don’t... please... this--this is my home...”

Din’s eyes went wide as you lost it right in front of him. He could certainly understand your apprehension, but he clearly wasn’t going to hurt you. The Imperials would.

“I know you’re scared, kiddo, but when those Imperials find you, they won’t be as kind to you as I am.” You could barely comprehend what he was trying to tell you. You were far too petrified. Din looked at you, back over his shoulder, and back to you. Those imperials would be here any minute. There was no way you weren’t going to get squashed. He only had one thing left he could do.

“AH!” you shrieked as soon as the gloved hand entered your vision, but it was useless to try to run. Giant digits wrapped around your body, and you clung onto the folds of his glove for dear life as he lifted you into the air at a speed that was far too fast for your liking. Stars popped in and out of your vision as you kicked and punched and yelled in protest. 

Din grimaced, barely able to feel the impact of your struggles. You were clearly overpowered, but more clearly terrified. 

“This is for your own good,” he mumbled, hoping you would hear him as he plopped you down into a brown satchel that was draped over his shoulder. 

Inside the bag, you were clawing for a way out. Screams of LET ME GO! went unheard as the giant started to move. Din was trying his hardest not to jostle you too much, but that was a tall task considering he was fleeing from a legion of stormtroopers who were after the kid.

There were a lot of grunts, screams and blaster bolts, but soon, all was quiet again. You had since shut your eyes and gripped tightly to the walls of the bag to stay stable and ignore the chaos, but it didn’t take long after the violence died down that you realized the giant was still walking somewhere.

“Hey. HEY!” you yelled. Din was ignoring you. There were surely more troopers hot on his tail, so he had to get to the Razor Crest and fast. He pushed Grogu up onto the ship and opened the roof to his pod before hurriedly climbing up the ladder to the cockpit. The deafening sound of the ship powering up made your stomach drop, but it all turned to a soft hum once Din made the jump to hyperspace. 

Light flooded your vision, and you grimaced as that damned hand came reaching for you again. Again, protesting it would be foolish, so you just closed your eyes to fend off the headache that was sure to come when he lifted you too fast. 

Din made sure to go slower this time, and when he held you out in his open palm, he finally got a sense of how small you really were. His fingers were slightly taller than you, and with your knees pulled to your chest, you were more the size of that stupid metal ball Grogu liked to play with. Maybe that’s why he went after you.

“I’m... sorry about that,” Din started, trying to sound earnest. “You were in danger. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

You finally opened your eyes. The view in front of you took your breath away. The sky was swirling blue all around you, but you quickly realized that wasn’t the sky at all. It was space. Hyperspace.

Din huffed a laugh. “First time in space?”

You nodded robotically, forgetting for a moment you were sitting in the palm of a giant. “First time... anywhere.”

Din smirked. He supposed that made sense, but it didn’t make it any less shocking -- or adorable -- to him.

“I’m sorry about Grogu,” he said, as if you were supposed to know who he was talking about. You cocked your head at him. “Grogu. The little green guy that... tried to eat you.”

“Oh.” You shuddered at the memory. “It--it’s okay, I guess.”

A pause.

“I can bring you back to your planet, if you’d like. It wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

You considered this, but something was holding you back. “What... who were those guys? What did they want?”

Din sighed. “Imperials. They were looking for me, but they were also occupying any and all territory they could. I hate to say it, kid, but even if I brought you back, I don’t think your home would be much of a home anymore.”

“It was never that much of a home anyway,” you grumbled. You were surprised that you could tell Din was waiting for you to continue. “I mean, it’s just. That green guy was not the first thing to try and eat me.”

“Oh.” Din didn’t know what to say. 

“It’s fine. That’s just... how it is.” A beat of silence. “Are you... are you going to sell me?”

“Sell you?” Din was confused. “Why would I sell you?”

“I--I thought -- that’s what humans do, isn’t it? Especially ones like you.”

Din frowned. That was not something he had thought of. “No. I’m not going to sell you.”

“...so what are you gonna do with me?”

“I...” Din faltered. What was he going to do? He was so focused on getting you to safety that he didn’t calculate the long-term implications. Through his helmet, he stared at you, your eyes shaking and pleading with him for mercy. You looked so small compared to the space around you. So vulnerable. Din felt this pull toward you; that protective instinct that caused him to change his life for Grogu. At least the kid could defend himself. You couldn’t.

“You can stay here, with me,” Din offered. “Until we can find you a place to live. How’s that sound?”

“Really?” This giant didn’t seem like the hospitable type, but he just shrugged. 

“You’ll be safe here,” he assured. “I promise.”

“What about... Groku?”

“Grogu,” he smiled. “I’ll make sure he keeps his distance.”

You could barely believe this was happening. You were nearly eaten, discovered by a human, kidnapped and killed; now, he was not only offering you shelter, but something you’ve never had in your entire life: protection. Even if it was a trap, what did it matter? What would be his motivation for lying? If he was offering you a place to be safe... how could you possibly turn it down? He didn’t have to try and save you from the Imperials, but he did. Maybe he was being sincere.

You tried to hide your smile, but failed. “Y-yeah. I guess I’ll stay here. I’ll... try not to get in your way.”

“...don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Din said. He gently moved his hand to the console in front of him and placed it down, allowing you to jump off. Din marveled at how some of the controls practically towered over you. “Is this okay?”

Once you got your bearings, you slowly turned around and fully took in the beauty of what was in front of you. It took up your entire vision like the most amazing spectacle in the galaxy. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t experienced this before.

“Yeah,” you said, turning back to Din, who failed to suppress a smile of his own. “This is perfect.”

[spidercakes]

Non-powered starker AU featuring a bit of an exhibitionist kink on Peter’s end and some smut.

*

Peter looks rumpled with his button down askew and his hair all over the place and his cheeks are still a little pink but he looks satiated and Tony has to admit he’s a little less stressed. Peter’s always been good at calming him down and getting rid of his nervous energy. He leans into Tony, pants still undone and Tony wraps his arms around him, one hand settling on his hip and the other on his ass. “I can’t believe we didn’t get busted that time,” he says, sparing a glance over his shoulder and shit, Tony’s surprised too. Its not like this is a club bathroom, or some random ally that Peter has dragged Tony into, it’s a gala and all that’s playing is classical music from the live band and the chatter of voices. Peter isn’t exactly quiet either so they mostly got lucky.

He grins, dragging Peter into a kiss. “Good luck,” he murmurs as Peter melts into him.

“Guess so. Feel better, baby?” he asks and Tony shrugs.

“Some, sure. Helps that you’ll be there,” Tony murmurs. At first he thought he was going to have to deal with his asshole father and his fucking brother alone but Peter had offered to come and he’s close with his mom. He talked her into letting him bring Peter to the cabin on account of they’ve never met before and wouldn’t it be nice to invite him to family bonding? Never mind that they don’t ever really bondso much as scream at each other and then avoid each other for the next three days before leaving and not talking to each other for another six months only to do it all over again.

Still, Tony feels better with Peter coming along even if he’s still stressed about it. Peter pouts at him and Tony kind of wants to kiss it away but Peter speaks before he can. “What, need me to drag you off to some other dark corner to test our luck?” he asks, eyes wide like he’s innocent and he’s so not.

“Mm as much as I would love that I have to speak so I’ll have to take a rain check,” he says, giving Peter’s ass a squeeze.

Peter lets out a soft ‘hmph’ before he grins, leaning back into Tony. “Well, if it makes you feel better we can always up the stakes of our little game, hmm? I’m sure the family cabin has a few fun hidey holes,” he says and Jesus Tony has no idea where Peter pulls this shit from.

“Really?” he asks, raising an eyebrow because he has no idea how to feel about this suggestion. On one hand, sex with Peter is always great. On the other hand he’s not looking to get busted fucking Peter by a family member. Even if he hates two thirds of the people that are invited.

Peter shrugs, “you’re somehow already the family disappointment despite being like, a billion times more successful than your brother. Its not like this would land you loweron the totem pole,” Peter points out.

Yeah, he’s not wrong there. “You know what, we’ll see how stressed I get. Now come on baby, get yourself together. I have a speech to make.”

Peter pretends to be affronted but he’s not, Tony knows. God, he’s so lucky to have him. “Have you ever thought of pointing out that Rhodey is more successful than Steve in the military and younger too?” Peter asks, threading his fingers through his and pulling Tony back towards the gathering of people.

He lets out a sharp laugh, “oh, every time I see him,” he says. And unlike Steve Rhodey didn’t need daddy’s connections to get him there because Rhodey’s a badass.

“Maybe you should say something,” Peter says. He gives Tony another one of those innocent looks and Tony really doesn’t know how he does it, looking so sweet like he isn’t constantly dragging Tony into some barely secluded dark corner of some public space to fuck him silly. He would have thought he’d be the frisky adventurous one but he’s got nothing on Peter.

*

Honestly, Peter kind of thought Tony was exaggerating about his family. He’s got a flair for the dramatic so he thinks he can be forgiven for that but within the first five seconds of knowing Howard he insults Tony, insults what he’s done with the company despite it being more profitable now than it ever was under Howard. He then goes on to imply Peter is twelve and if thatdoesn’t leave him seething with rage. So he looks young, he knowshe does and he knowshe’s significantly younger than Tony but he’s twenty fucking five.

“Baby,” Tony murmurs in his ear, “don’t listen to him. He’s a fuckass anyway.” Tony isn’t exactly wrong but still. “Get us a drink?” he adds, kissing his cheek. Peter sighs and nods, making an effort to walk back to the cabin rather than stomp. He sees no reason to encourage the line of thinking that leaves him a fucking forever child.

He’s digging around in the fridge when he hears someone walk up behind him. “You must be Peter, then,” the person says and he turns to find a tall blonde there. He reminds Peter of that Ken doll he and MJ set on fire as kids to amuse themselves and he knows Tony was nervous about him meeting Steve because he feels inferior but Peter has no clue why. Sure, he’s good looking but he’s not Peter’s type whatsoever. Reminds him of a blonde version of his ex, except Quentin had more striking features while Steve looks… manufactured.

“Yeah. I assume you’re Steve,” he says, a little standoffish. Tony wasn’t exaggerating about Howard so he doubts he’s exaggerating about Steve now. He feels bad for doubting Tony to begin with.

“So Tony did mention me,” he says and takes a small step back, looking out the glass doors of the cabin before turning back. “He’s treating you alright, right?” he asks and Peter prickles fast.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he snaps. He knowshe’s overreacting, still a little pissed off about the whole Howard thing but he doesn’t much care for the implications of Steve’s words either.

Steve shakes his head, “nothing really, its just that he’s a little too much like dad and-”

“Tony isn’t anything like Howard and he treats me fucking fantastic so lets get that straight,” Peter snaps and this time he does stomp off, back out to Tony.

He looks a little confused when Peter comes back empty handed but notices Steve trailing behind him fast. “You must have just got here so what the hell did you do to my baby to piss him off so much?” Tony asks, circling an arm around his waist.

“Outright compared you to your father,” Peter mumbles darkly but its nothing compared to the look on Tony’s face and Peter is pretty sure there’s some kind of history there.

“Fuck you,” Tony snaps, pulling Peter away while Maria, who seems to be the only half way decent member of this family, looks on in something akin to horror.

*

They remain curled up next to each other while Tony runs his fingers up and down Peter’s bare back. “Sorry about dragging you into this, baby,” he murmurs, kissing Peter softly.

He shrugs because he volunteered for this. “Its okay. S’not like you can help that your family sucks, and in Steve’s slight defense he was trying to not suck even if he totally does.” Failed miserably at it given his apparently quite low opinion of his brother and Peter is sure that’s unfounded. Or if its not it hasn’t been true in some time.

Tony sighs, “yeah, in his defense I amtoo much like Howard,” he murmurs and Peter perks up, giving him the side eye because he might not know Tony’s father well but he knows that he and Howard are nothing alike. Aside from looks, they dohave a lot in common there.

“No you aren’t,” Peter says confidently.

“You didn’t know me when I was young,” Tony murmurs like that matters.

“Don’t need to. If you were like Howard you wouldn’t be the way you are now, would you? Whatever you did when you were young doesn’t really matter if you don’t do those things now,” he points out.

Tony smiles a little, arm tightening around him. “How come you’re the wise one?” he murmurs.

“Probably that time my parents both died and also my uncle Ben,” Peter says in too chipper a tone, laughing when Tony almost chokes.

“Baby!” he says, trying his best not to laugh not that he’s doing a good job.

“What? Its true. You want a mature young person traumatize them a bunch. Worked pretty well on me.” Tony shakes his head and presses a kiss to the top of his head.

“I love you,” he murmurs and Peter smiles.

“Love you too,” he says back, snuggling in closer to Tony.

*

If Peter has to sit and listen to Howard’s yammering for another god damn minute he might throw the man off the dock that his damn yacht is attached to. “I swear to god if he keeps talking,” Peter mumbles to Tony, who laughs a little behind his hand.

“Hope you got him to sign a prenup,” Howard says despite the fact that Peter isn’t wearing a ring.

Peter makes an irritated noise. “Oh please old man, if I wanted his money I would have chosen someone who has one foot on the banana peel and the other in the grave so all I had to do was give him a gentle nudge before I was set for life but unfortunately Maria bit the bullet and already married your ancient ass,” he snaps. “So I figured the younger, hotter, more successful model with an actual personality would suffice.”

Howard somehow manages to look at him like he’s a bug to be smushed instead of taking offense. “I can see why you like him. He’s got a smart mouth despite it being better off shut.”

Tony gives him an absolutely poisonous look, “oh shut up, Howard. You haven’t had anything useful to offer since the seventies,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“And lets be real, the biggest contribution you’ve made to the world was Tony,” Peter says, earning a sharp snort out of Tony.

Howard rolls his eyes, “oh what would you know, have you even left high school?” he asks and Peter grits his teeth.

“The PhD program I recently finished gives a good indication that I know what the fuck I’m talking about. I’d offer you my I.D to prove my age but I’m pretty sure you lost your bifocals in the Great Depression.” Tony lets out another snort and even Steve cracks a smile at that one. Maria just looks stressed and Peter supposed he might too, if he assumed anyone here would get along for more than five seconds.

“Okay, I’m going to go for a walk with Peter,” Tony says, pulling Peter from his seat. “And then we’re going to bed. Very tired,” he lies as he drags them both out of there.

“No wonder you hate your father,” Peter says, curling an arm around Tony’s waist.

“Oh he was on his best behavior tonight so you can imagine what he’s like normally,” Tony says, rolling his eyes. “You dropped some nice lines though,” he murmurs, pulling Peter into the cabin.

Yeah, he did. Probably because he’s been spending so much time with Tony and if anything the man is good with a one liner. “Mm, well, learned from the best,” he murmurs as he draws Tony into a kiss. Tony goes, hands settling on his hips as Peter pushes him into the nearest room, shutting the door behind him before pressing Tony up against it. Tony lets out a soft moan and Peter knowshow much he likes it when he takes control. He likes to pretend like he’s a control freak but nothing gets him hotter than Peter taking over, pushing him around and telling him what to do.

Tony’s hands run down his body, pulling the shirt he has tucked into his pants out. “Baby this is Steve’s room,” he murmurs into the kiss and Peter shrugs.

“So? Get that jacket off,” he tells Tony, pushing it off his shoulders. Tony all but throws it on the ground and pulls Peter back into a kiss as he works at undoing the buttons on Tony’s shirt. Tony doesn’t bother with his buttons at all; he just pulls the shirt over his head and tosses it aside.

“You sure about this?” Tony asks as Peter grabs his hips and spins them around, directing him towards the bed.

Once Tony’s legs hit the edge of the bed he shoves him onto it, grinning when Tony bounces a little and crawling into his lap immediately. “Think the golden boy keeps condoms and lube around?” he asks, kissing Tony fiercely. Tony moans into it as Peter frantically undoes his belt, pulling it from its loops and throwing it somewhere that’s not near him.

“GodI love you,” Tony tells him, hands making their way down the back of his pants as he grabs Peter’s ass.

“You better,” Peter murmurs. “Move up while I dig around,” he tells him. Tony whines at the loss of Peter in his lap but if they’ve got luck he’ll be back in his lap soon enough. Peter crawls across the bed to the bed side table and yanks open the drawer, snickering at what he finds there. He pulls out the cuffs and dangles them where Tony can see and Tony wrinkles his nose.

“Ew, not something I ever needed to see, baby,” he says.

“What? Don’t want to borrow them for a little fun?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Tony’s nose wrinkles more, “no fucking thanks, I don’t know who those were on last and I don’t want to find out. Besides, we have nicer ones at home,” he says.

Peter’s lips quirk up, “mm, yeah we do. And they look so pretty around your wrists while I ride you,” he murmurs, leaning back over to kiss Tony. He runs his fingers along Tony’s jaw, carefully tilting his head up so he can meet Peter’s mouth better before pulling away.

“Baby,” Tony murmurs softly as Peter pulls back.

“Gimmie a minute,” he says, turning back to the drawer and rattling around in it. He tosses the cuffs aside, and a few other things that aren’t useful to him until he gets luck. “Ha! Great, because I would have been pretty pissed if I had to go hunting around,” he says, tossing the condoms and lube close to Tony before crawling back into his lap.

Tony pulls him back in immediately, kisses sloppy and passionate as he feels his way up and down Peter’s back. God, he loves Tony like this, touching him like he’s never does it before. “Clothes off,” Tony tells him and Peter snorts.

“You don’t get to give the orders around here, baby, that’s my job,” Peter tells him but he pulls the button of his pants open anyway because he damn well wants Tony yesterdayand things aren’t moving fast enough. He shimmies out of his pants and starts pulling at Tony’s, shedding them and adding them to the pile of clothing tossed about the room. “Lube,” Peter tells him, “and make this quick yeah? want to be on your cock,” he says, kissing Tony again.

Tony moans into it, groping around on the bed until he finds what he’s looking for. “Fast and dirty, hmm? That how you want it?”

“Fucking right,” Peter tells him, “make it good. S’been a shitty day and I want something good out of it.”

“Me too, baby,” Tony murmurs as he presses two fingers into his hole and they both moan. “Gunna be so good,” Tony says, “always good.”

Peter nods, pressing his ass back into Tony’s fingers. “Mm yeah. Gunna ride you hard, love the way you feel inside me,” Peter murmurs, “get the condom.”

Tony curls his fingers a bit and Peter’s back arches into him. “You looks do damn beautiful like this baby,” Tony tells him. “Love the look on your face when I make you feel good.”

He lets out a few short pants before he reaches out himself, finding the condom he threw over here himself and all but tossing it at Tony. “Make be feel better if you get this on so I can fuck you proper,” he says and Tony lets out a soft laugh.

“FuckI want you so bad,” he murmurs into Peter’s mouth, pulling the condom package open and putting it on.

Yeah, Peter too so as soon as Tony’s done with the condom he sinks himself down on Tony’s dick and they both groan. He sits like that for a moment, adjusting before Tony is pawing at his hips, urging him to move as he mouths at Peter’s neck. He curls his fingers into Tony’s hair and settles an arm around his shoulders to balance himself as he begins to move.

“God baby yeah, like that,” Tony tells him as he shifts his hips just right and Peter bites his lip and tilts his head back. Tony moans into his neck, nipping at the spots he’s sucked kisses into and Peter lets out a soft, breathy noise of pleasure.

“Oh godI love having you like this,” Peter tells him. “Love the way you feel when I ride you,” he murmurs.

One of Tony’s hands tightens on his hip while the other runs up Peter’s back and back down again, curling over his ass and squeezing it. “You’re to god damn tight, baby,” Tony moans into his ear. “Fuck me faster.”

Peter nods, shifting his position slightly and moving faster, delighting in the sharp moans Tony lets out. Peter knows he’s loud, doesn’t much care what people think of it either, but he fucking loves when Tony gets loud too. He’s always the one holding back, especially in they’re in public, and Peter likes it when he lets go and just feels it. “Like that, baby?” he asks and Tony lets out another moan into his neck.

“Oh god, ‘m close,” he tells Peter and he bites his lip at the flush of arousal that results.

“Come on, baby,” Peter murmurs to him. “Wanna hear you.”

The hand Tony has on his hip grows tighter as he shifts his hips up into Peter’s keeping with the pace Peter set. He doesn’t expect to let out a loud moan but he does, breathing picking up as Tony slams his hips up into Peter’s again. “Tony,” Peter says, grip on his hair tightening as he pulls it a little. “Do that again,” he tells him, throwing his head back when he does. “Tony!” he says, louder this time.

“Gunna cum with me?” Tony asks and Peter nods frantically.

“Yeah baby, just keep doing that oh Tony!” he yells, grip on Tony’s hair growing tighter as Tony presses his hips up into Peter’s for the last time, yelling Peter’s name as he cums too. For a moment they just sit there and pant while Peter all but melts into Tony, muscles going loose. Then Tony swears and Peter stirs, “hmm?” he asks, only half interested in the response.

“Baby, that was loud,” Tony tells him and he shrugs. Tony lets out a soft laugh, “yeah, you don’t care now but when you have to look my mother in the eye,” he murmurs, prodding Peter off his lap. He whines about it but follows Tony’s instructions while he pads over to the large window that happens to have curtains on it, not that it would have mattered if they turned the lights on. Which they hadn’t so at least Tony doesn’t need to worry about that. “Oh thank god, no one has moved. Come on, before we get busted. I don’t want to listen to Steve whine,” he says, pulling Peter off the bed despite his protests.

*

Tony’s more than content with Peter curled up into his side, one leg drawn up over his hip, when Steve bursts in. He jumps, annoyed but he doesn’t look as annoyed as Peter does. Steve all but throws the clothes that he and Peter must have forgot in his room into Tony’s space looking pretty pissed. Peter’s cheeks turn bright red as his eyes go wide and yeah, Tony thought so. Its one thing to have the thrill of getting caught, its another to actually get busted. Peter mumbles something Tony doesn’t catch and drags the blanket over his head as he slinks closer to Tony.

“What the fuck?” Steve snaps and Tony shrugs.

“It was the first door we ran into,” he says in their defense.

Steve makes a disgusted face, “oh that was cute when you were nineteen, its not so fucking cute now,” he says and Tony wrinkles his nose because gross, bad choice in words.

“You were the one who chose that room, I wanted it but youhad to have it enough to bitch at mom about it,” Tony says, rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t expect my little brother to constantly fuck in it!” Steve snaps.

“Oh Christ, it was like three times. Get over it,” Tony mumbles.

“Three times? You stole like five of my girlfriends and slept with all of them in my room you asshole!”

Peter pokes his head out of the blanket looking amused. “You’ve done this before?” he asks, eyes bright.

“Yeah, and I’m fucking sick of it. Why the hell do you always do this?” Steve snaps.

Tony shrugs, “believe it or not this time was Peter’s idea so blame him,” he says and Peter makes a soft noise of betrayal, slinking back into his blanket hideaway and jabbing Tony in the side with a finger. He jumps, grumbling at Peter but Steve clearly doesn’t believe him anyway.

“Don’t blame this on him, like he knew that was my room! And did you two use my fucking handcuffs?” he asks.

“No, we have nicer ones at home,” he says and he laughs as Steve’s face turns more red than Peter’s had been a few minutes ago.

Steve sputters, clearly at a loss of what to say as he throws his hands up in frustration. “Oh Steve, what could Tony have possibly done to you now? He’s been in bed for over an hour,” his mom says and Tony swears to fucking god if Steve rats him out he’s calling Rhodey to get Steve’s ass canned and he knows Rhodey will do it too.

“He has fucking not! Tell him to stop fucking in my room!” Steve says, so pissed off that apparently he forgot to censor himself in front of their mother.

“I fucking hate you, you know that?” Tony tells him as Peter lets out a soft groan under the blanket and Tony can feel him shriveling up under there in shame.

“Well I hate you too! You can’t even manage to fuck your boyfriend in your own damn room!” Steve yells.

“Well if you’re so damn bothered by it just give the damn room that’s the first door on the way in and this wouldn’t be an issue anymore!” Tony tells him and Maria throws her hands up.

“Oh for the love of godyou two are still fighting over who got that damn room? You’re grown men, stop acting like children!” Maria tells them. “And Tony, really? You’d be pissed off if Steve did that to you,” she points out.

“He doesn’t have the balls and also myroom is across the damn cabin so it doesn’t even make sense to do that, his room is closer to all entrances and exits. Not my fault I got sequestered to the bad child corner,” he points out.

“No fucking wonder you did considering you can’t even manage to fuck in your own damn room! Now I have to wash my sheets and did you even use a condom? What the hell am I going to find in there?” Steve snaps.

“Grab a black light, it’s a Jackson Pollock painting,” Tony tells him and Peter lets out another soft groan. Poor thing, Tony almost feels bad for him but this is half his fault so he doesn’t.

Steve makes a disgusted face, recoiling. “You’re fucking disgusting!”

Tony shrugs, “quick and dirty is my style, what can I say?”

“Oh my god stop,” Peter and, of all people, Maria say in sync though in vastly different tones.

“Steve, go to your room. Tony… go clean Steve’s room,” she says. Tony goes to open his mouth to protest but he gets fixed with a nasty glare. “I have found out waymore about you than I ever wanted to know tonight. Go. Clean. Steve’s. Room,” she tells him, walking off with that.

He turns to look at Steve. “I’m not cleaning your room. I don’t even know how to do laundry so I’d be useless anyway. Good luck,” he says, slipping out of bed and shutting the door in Steve’s face.

Peter sticks his head out of the blanket. “Please tell me we can leave as soon as everyone is asleep oh my god,” he says, looking horrified.

Tony walks back over and crawls over Peter’s body, crowding him into the mattress. “Aw, only an exhibitionist when you don’t get caught?” he asks, leaning in and kissing him softly.

“Caught? Oh, that’s not the problem. The problem is that I probably can’t avoid not inviting your entire family to the wedding and I don’t know how to look at Steve after being busted fucking in his room,” he says. “And apparently this isn’t even the first time you’ve done that.”

He shrugs, “dad was always on about Steve this, Steve that, be more like Steve, Steve’s the son I always dreamed of and you’re a disappointment so I figured fuck it, Steve’s a low bar to hit. To be fair everyone who’s slept with us both says I’m better so guess Steve should be more like me,” he says, grinning as Peter rolls his eyes.

“Oh my god Tony. Just tell me we can leave as soon as everyone is asleep,” he says.

He laughs but nods, giving Peter’s nose a kiss. “Yeah baby, we can leave as soon as they’re asleep. And speaking of weddings,” he murmurs, pulling himself off the bed and grabbing the pants Steve so lovingly threw back into his room.

Thankfully the ring didn’t fall out of the pocket because he’d worked hard to find something Peter would like. He hands it off to him and sits, “I don’t expect you to sign a fucking prenup either, Howard can eat shit.”

Peter stares at it, stunned. “Seriously? Is this like, an actual proposal or is this just a ring?”

Tony draws him in for a kiss. “Of course it’s a proposal, you don’t not sign prenups for ‘just rings,’” he points out.

Peter squeals and throws his arms around him, “oh my god, yes!”

[pneumasthesia]

Chapter 10

A. He was blind

Second Act – Perception

 “I’m … blind. That’s why I couldn’t read the combination and open the lock” I admit.

The young man and girl both open their eyes wide in shock, or at least I assume that they do.

“So that’s why you couldn’t see how many fingers I was holding up earlier! I have to say, for a cripple, you’re surprisingly capable! I respect that” says the young man, completely unaware of how much he sounds like a complete asshole right now.

The older man’s contemplative air turns to one of deep frustration. “We have no reason to believe that what you say is the truth. You could easily be lying to save your skin” he says.

“Stop trying to catch the poor kid in a lie. You’ve been awfully desperate to pin the blame on him” says the middle-aged woman calmly. She puts her hand on his shoulder, not even flinching while he recoils from the touch, and continues “we’ve both known that there was next to no chance that ‘Pet’ here was the murderer and this just makes it all the more certain.”

What? They had evidence that I wasn’t the murderer? And they still put me through this questioning?

“If ‘Pet’ wasn’t blind, then he wouldn’t have been defending himself by talking about things like alibis. There’s a clear elephant in the room that he didn’t address at all this whole time, and you can only explain that if he was blind” she says, finishing her deduction.

What “elephant in the room”? I’m being left out of something important, and I don’t like it. This is why I hate telling people about my condition.

“Oh, of course, you can’t see it so that’s why you’d been ignoring it. I thought it was because you were trying to postpone being found obviously guilty” says the young man, apparently having assumed me to be a coward this whole time, “it’s right there, on the floor in front of the dead body where we found you kneeling down. It’s the word ‘PET’, written on the floor in the Professor’s blood.”

I ignored incriminating evidence that blatant this whole time? I probably even stepped on it when I was standing up earlier.

“That’s why I thought you were the culprit. It’s common murder mystery fare, right? The victim writes the killer’s name in their blood as their final act” says the older man, with more than a single note of remorse in his tone, “but of course, like most murder mysteries, the answer is hardly that simple.”

“The Professor’s finger has no blood on it” states the middle-aged woman matter-of-factly, not hesitating as she stands above the dead body and touches his lifeless hand, “that means that he couldn’t have written this. So it figures that, more likely than not, the person who did write it was the culprit, and the only reason that they would write this name is to draw suspicion away from them. That means that it’s unreasonable to think that our ‘Pet’ is the murderer.”

Impressive deductions from someone with the makings of a true great detective. I’m a little envious that I wasn’t the one making them, but doing so would be physically impossible for me, so I suppose I can forgive it.

“So great, we’ve determined that one person out of five couldn’t have done it, but what now?” the young man questions “we have no more leads about how to figure out who among us actually killed the old man.”

“The gun” I say.

“Hmm? What do you mean?” says the young man.

“We know that the Professor’s gun was fired in this office; you and I heard that” I think aloud “but the Professor’s gun is always placed on top of the fireplace downstairs. That means that someone moved the gun up to this office. If we can determine who and why, then we might get closer to finding the truth of this murder.”

“Woah! Now that’s my assistant for you!” says the young man, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and smirking audibly.

I don’t know where he got the idea that I was his assistant. I’m no one’s assistant anymore, let alone to a “great detective” like him.

Hmm, but if he trusts me then he could be useful. I’ve learned from before that unless someone here is called out specifically, they won’t corroborate my claims for fear of being implicated. That’s the whole reason why everyone here still believes that the gunshot was when the Professor died. But if I know that this overly-friendly idiot will listen to what I say, then I can use him for witness testimony that may get us closer to the truth.

I just need to get him to speak.

 Third Piece – A Shadow Darting Through the Black

 “C’mon, speak already!” I shout as rudely as I can muster, which is quite a lot.

“No” whispers Yellow.

“Oh, what’s this? Has the little ray of sunshine here ‘gathered’ their thoughts enough to speak?” I goad.

“Yes. Now leave me alone” Yellow whispers loud enough to almost be considered speaking.

“No. I need something from you, so I won’t leave until you answer my questions.”

“Ask someone else.”

“I would, but the other two guests have been off hogging the goodly Professor’s time since we got here, and that ‘Pet’ is off in his own little doghouse, so I have to settle for talking with you.”

“I have nothing interesting to say.”

“So do most people, but I know for a fact that you have something to say that I want to know.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“So you’ll answer my questions? Thanks!”

“That’s not what I meant- “

“So, do you have this ‘pneumasthesia’ bullshit that the Professor was talking about?”

“How am I supposed to know? I’m not a doctor.”

“But you came here, right? That means there’s something about you that you wanted the Professor to help you with.”

“And what about you?”

“I’m perfectly normal. I wish I had ESP or whatever. I’m just here to give the old man a piece of … what he deserves for calling me some sort of crazy person.”

“So you want me to yell at the Professor with you?”

“In a nutshell, yes.”

“I’ll pass.”

“What? Do you honestly think this quack can help you? He’s out here ranting about ‘sixth senses’ and the ‘unconscious language’ like this is some pulp Sci-Fi novel. A guy like that deserves a punch in the face for wasting our time. Scratch that, four punches in the face, one from each of us, even if yours will probably be like a little bee sting.”

Yellow retreats within their self, turning pale enough to be mistaken for White, and whispers, softer than ever this time, “I need help. No matter what. No matter from who. I’ll do anything to be free of this.”

What a pitiful little shade. Letting yourself be brainwashed by this phony shows that you’ve got some serious self-worth issues. Maybe Yellow does need some professional help, or a slap on the face, but I’m not here to give either.

“Fine. Suit yourself. I hope you find the help you’re looking for” I say. With those words a little bit of Yellow’s color returns, just a little bit though.

I turn to go to the Professor’s study and knock on his door until I get yelled at again. Maybe I’ll just unlock that stupid padlock this time, or better yet I could kick down the flimsy thing like a burglar and force him to answer my questions.

I’m shaken out of that daydream by the object of my ire. Black descends from above, his darkened figure flitting down the staircase with a frantic gait.

Yellow sits up to look at the specter of a professor that just entered the living room. Surely they’re thinking about asking for a consultation right now, but with the hurried way the Professor is moving right now, someone as reticent as them could hardly bring their self to interrupt him. Even someone as not reticent as me can’t.

The Professor darts across the wooden floor and makes a beeline for the fireplace. He doesn’t turn to look at either of his patients when he passes by, nor does he even seem to notice, too caught up in his own thoughts. His heavy breaths are audible even from across the room. Does going down a single flight of stairs really wind him that much?

The ghost wrenches his gun from its seat atop the fireplace, takes a moment to inspect it, and runs back up the staircase, stowing the gun behind his back in a belt loop. I don’t know much about gun safety, but I’m quite certain that’s not proper handling procedure, though I doubt proper procedure is the Professor’s greatest concern right now, with the way he’s acting.

I turn back to Yellow whose color has drained even further than before. It figures that seeing the person you hope will be your savior panicking like that will make you lose some faith in your chances of rehabilitation.

I flash the little drop of sun the kindest smile I can manage and turn towards the first-floor hallway. I need to see that ‘Pet’.

 01:12:03

 “So how- “

“You can’t see, ‘Pet’?”

“Huh? Uh, yes, I am blind.”

“A blind psychiatrist. You must get a lot of business from ugly women with low self-esteem.”

“Was that a joke? I’m glad you’re in good humor now for some reason, but you know that I’m still just a student. You’re the first client that I’ve had, and I had to beg the doctors here just to let me see you.”

“I know. It’s just that I can see a bright future ahead of you.”

“Hilarious. I’ve never heard that one before.”

“Do you mean that you don’t see the humor in it?”

“Wow, that was terrible.”

“Wait, wait, I’ve got another one. How did I know that you were blind? Because you didn’t take me to the I-see-you!”

“…”

“Oh come on. You have to admit that last one was funny.”

“I’m the professional here so I make the rules, and I rule that this is a pun-free-zone.”

“Spoilsport.”

“Putting that nonsense aside, what brought about this change in behavior?”

“I found a target to bully.”

“I mean, what caused your mood to improve so dramatically like this? This is the first time you’ve smiled since this session began.”

“I don’t know. I just feel better now. Do I need to have a reason?”

“The human brain is not such an alien machine that it can’t be understood. Of course there’s a reason.”

“Well that’s a logical fallacy isn’t it, to say that the human brain can understand the human brain is ridiculous. In order to comprehend the inner workings of a machine, you need a machine that is more sophisticated so it can simulate all the inner workings of that other machine in itself.”

“But what if you were to have multiple human brains all working together to understand a single human brain? Their combined internal workings should surely be enough to understand one mind.”

“That claim implies that two or more human brains could ever communicate effectively enough to function as a united machine.”

“Humans are social animals. Every part of our evolution was made to help us communicate and work with each other more effectively. If we can cooperate to understand how to build machines that fly in the air unaided, then surely we can understand a single pink organ in your head.”

“Even birds can fly, and they do it alone. Not to mention they don’t murder each other.”

“And with that, your good humor has vanished. It seems like talking to me is the trigger for putting you in a bad mood.”

“I don’t think getting annoyed when you speak is a trait unique to me.”

“Ah, I suppose your humor is still there, just a little more sardonic than before. Well, so long as you’re still stable enough mentally, that means we can move forward. So, tell me, who brought the gun to the Professor’s office?”

“You really have no faith in my ability to solve mysteries if you’re asking me that.”

“I told you that we’d be talking this one step at a time, no matter how hard it got, or how easy. Besides, you didn’t know who took that gun until just a few moments ago, and neither did you know that I was blind. Don’t act like nothing has been new to you in this whole ‘memory theater’ as you put it.”

“I suppose. This definitely isn’t how I remember these events playing out.”

“Well that just goes to show how addled your mind is and how much you need this therapy session.”

“Unless you’re lying to me.”

“Don’t you trust your own senses?”

“…”

“Then just sit back, relax, and answer my questions. I realize that you think this is a waste of time, but we can’t move forward until you do this. So, answer me, who brought the Professor’s gun into his office?”

 >Pick one:

A.    The young man

B.     The young girl

C.    The assistant

D.    The Professor