#taking that person and giving them back broken

[rafeandonlyrafe]

in his corner

words: 2.7k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, boxer!rafe, established relationship, p in v sex, semi public sex, violence but not in great detail, unprotected sex, mentions of rafes anger issues

rafes head is down as you step into the locker room. it's dark and gloomy, no need for bright lights that just illuminate the blood and grime more.

the fleeting sunlight peeking in through the windows only casts light upon the dust floating in the room as you close the door behind you, causing rafe to finally look up.

his eyes shift from pure focus to something softer. “hey.” his voice is still low, slightly hoarse from not speaking most of the day.

“hey.” you move the rest of the way into the room, your footsteps sounding thunderous in the silence that always cloaks the gym before a fight, especially one like this.

“ill be safe.” you see a hint of humor in his eyes now as you roll yours. you always tell rafe to stay safe before a fight, it's become such an expectation that he beats you to it.

“do you have your gloves?” you ask, looking towards his gym bag, wanting to rifle through it to make sure rafe has everything he needs, even though you packed it for him.

“of course.” rafe smiles, wrapping his hands around the back of your thighs and pulling you closer into him, his forehead pressing against your stomach.

“you're nervous for this one.” rafe states. he doesn't need to ask, he can tell just by your energy, the way your breathing is more frantic, your eyes opened ever so slightly wider than normal.

“im not the one in the ring.” you hum, hand coming to the back of his neck, stroking over his hairline, taming it despite knowing it's only a few minutes before it's going to get messed up again, either by rafe rubbing at it or the opponent.

“i know.” rafe looks up at you, a soft smile on his face. “but ya love me.”

“mmm, unfortunately.” you joke, a smile flashing across your lips before you drop your head to press your mouths against rafe, the kiss hungry and desperate, knowing it may be your last for a while if rafe gets his lip busted open.

“okay-” rafe sighs, pulling away, restraint in his voice as his insides call to continue kissing you. “it's almost time. love you.”

“love you too.” you back away but keep your eyes locked with rafe until your back is pressed up against the door. “win for me.”

you step out, eyes flickering around his team, waiting in the hallway for you, knowing better than to interrupt your moment with rafe.

“he's ready.” you nod to rafes coach before ducking out of the way as they file into the locker room.

you can hear the noise of the crowd grow as you walk into the arena, rows of seats all facing towards the central octagon. none of the security stops you to ask for a ticket as you walk to the front, rafe has become a headliner at the boxing gym, and you a vip along with it.

you take your seat, a coveted one, right in rafes corner. you know he has supporters, and while you appreciate most of them, the female ones who fawn over him anger you every time they shout his name or try to give him their number, but his quick shut down of advances always washes away the brief resentment.

“hey y/n.” rafes coaches brother, lewis, sits next to you, your de facto personal bodyguard. you insisted you didn't need someone looking over you, but rafe was always worried about a fight starting in the crowd. it certainly wouldn't be the first one that has broken out at a boxing gym.

“hi lewis.” you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and lean back in your seat as the prematch comes out, beginner fighters to keep all the early attendees from getting impatient while the crowd grows and seats fill.

overall, it's a professional arena. not on a pro level by any standards, but the best you can get in the area without making boxing full time. it certainly puts the smaller gyms rafe started out in to shame.

you were the one who originally suggested it. any sort of contact sport to work through some of his anger. you saw it bubbling under the surface, and you knew rafe would never do anything in your presence, even if he wanted to scream and punch a wall, he'd bottle it all in just to not scare you.

you clap as the first round comes to an end, ever the good supporter and attendee. it's part of the reason the gym likes rafe so much, he's no fuss, no personal drama, just pure fighting.

there's more rounds as you wait to see rafe, the rest of the seats being filled along with standing room in the back for anyone getting in late. 

a new referee steps into the ring, a professional with years of experience who doesn't bother with the lower level fights, saving himself for the main event. 

you sit up a little straighter in your seat as your eyes move to the door, a smile stretching over your cheeks as rafe steps out to applause and the thumbing base of a rap song. you applaud as well, keeping your eyes on rafe despite knowing he won't look at you, not until he gets in the ring, some sort of superstition that he's developed as he keeps his head down.

the other fighter comes out to the booming announcement of their name, a silly nickname you immediately disregard. clearly someone trying to rise the ranks and become a well known name, but you can tell just by his stature that rafe will take him down.

you breathe a little sigh of relief as rafe climbs into the ring and looks over to you, a slight smirk you're sure only you can see. he knows just as well as you do that this will be an easy day.

the official facilitates the handshake between the opponents before they're back to their corners to tape wrists and put on gloves, getting everything prepared. you keep your eyes on rafe, of course, taking in his every movement.

you feel a stirring in your stomach as he stands, tank top stretched tight across his body while his shorts are looser, allowing him to move easily around the ring.

you hear a woop coming from the back but know better than to divert your attention, rafe surging forward right when the official starts the round. he wastes no time throwing quick punches before defending, stepping to the side to miss the opponents swipes.

rafe lands a few more blows, but you don't cheer yet. you've made the mistake before of thinking he's in the clear too early.

the movement of rafes body is almost a dance, one driven by passion. his biceps bulge with every punch, swear gathering on his chest, making your mouth water as you watch.

the officials whistle to end the round makes you jump, too wrapped up in rafes looks to pay attention to the fight like you know you should.

you really do try to shift your attention back, but as the next round starts, you're quickly drawn back to watching rafes body and smooth movements. 

every punch he throws makes your legs tighten further, hoping the pressing of your thighs offers you some sort of relief, but any comfort is fleeting.

your body responds for you when the fight comes to end, rising to your feet and clapping as you snap back to attention. rafe of course wins, the opponent not even getting a punch to his face other than a brief touch on his jaw that didn't even knock his mouthguard.

“i knew you'd win.” you smile and step forward as rafe comes to the ropes, leaning over to press his lips against yours.

“let me talk to the team and shower then we'll get out of here, yeah?” rafe kisses you again before leaning in to whisper into your ear. “i can tell you're turned on.”

--

“how'd you know?” you question as rafe shifts the car into drive, his free hand immediately coming to your thigh as he pulls out of the parking spot and onto the road.

“that you were- are turned on?” rafe smirks, keeping his eyes focused on the road ahead. “you get a look in your eyes, baby. and i can tell you want me.”

“and i have that look right now?” you hum out, turning the volume up on the radio slightly as the kid cudi song comes on.

“mhm. and it'll only intensify when i do this-” rafes hand slides upwards between your thighs. you quickly part them for him, letting out a soft moan as his fingers rub right where he knows you like it best.

“shit.” you lean back into the seat, trying to keep yourself from jumping over the center console and pouncing on rafe instantly. you pray you don't hit traffic as he presses harder on the gas pedal, ready to get home as well.

“you looked so pretty tonight cheering me on baby.” rafe pushes his fingers harder against your pants, creating tight circles. “even if you were spaced out the entire time.”

“mhm.” you hum, not even truly listening to what rafe is saying, just enjoying the tambor of his voice and the feeling growing in your stomach.

you know when rafe laughs that it's at you and your current state, but you've done far too much and been with him far too long to be embarrassed or ashamed by your lust as you let out another moan.

your eyes are glossy as you turn to look at rafe, hand gripping the wheel tightly with a clear tent in his sweatpants. you blink a few times to clear your vision as you take in his hard set jaw, tension building as he is forced to wait to get inside you.

you reach over to place your hand on rafes crotch, hoping the pressure of your hand sustains him a little longer.

“it's taking everything in me not to pull over and fuck you here in the car.” rafe says through gritted teeth.

you look out the windshield as rafe moves his hand to grip the steering wheel with both hands, needing it now that you're touching him to keep the vehicle steady. “we're almost home.” you hum out, petting your fingertips over his length, contemplating pushing his pants down and bending over the center console, but your clenching pussy needs him.

rafe pulls into the driveway at speeds he shouldn't be going inside a residential neighborhood, the car calming to a halting stop, and not even a second passes before you're out of your seats and out of the car.

rafe beats you to the front door, throwing it open for you to rush inside, locking it tight after you've entered.

you know you won't make it to the bed. you never do on nights like this. both on a high from rafe winning his fight, an easy opponent with not even a scratch to his knuckles.

rafe presses you against the wall of the hallway, his body molding against yours as his lips smash forward into a passionate kiss. you reach between your bodies immediately, knowing you're already soaking wet and ready from rafe playing with you in the car.

you push down on the hem of rafes sweatpants until rafe moves his hips and allows you to shove them down along with his underwear. 

rafe lets out a sigh as your hand wraps around his length, holding his cock in your grasp as you quickly begin to stroke.

“fuck, baby.” rafe places his fist around your hand. “as much as i love you touching me like this i need to be inside you now.”

there's a desperation in his voice that makes something in your chest tighten.

you nod and release him, undoing your button and zipper to shove your pants to the ground and kick them away. rafe grabs the hem of your tshirt before you can take it off yourself, pulling it up over your head before it also joins the clothes scattered around the foyer.

rafe connects your lips back together, his hands sneaking behind your back to undo your bra before pulling the cups off, large palms quickly replacing them as he holds your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze that has your mouth falling open in a satisfied sigh.

“bedroom, counter or right here?” rafe asks, pulling on your lip before you can answer and giving it a tug.

“right here.” you reach down and take rafes cock in your hand, giving it a stroke. “right here, right now.”

“mmm, don't have to tell me again.” rafes arms circle around you and pull you up, pinning you against the wall. your body moves so naturally like it's done a hundred times before, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

rafe lines up his cock with your entrance and sinks forward. your arms wrap around his shoulders and pull him in tight, mouth dropping open and eyes squeezing closed as he slowly enters you.

“oh god.” rafe groans, mouth opening as well, but to press his teeth against your skin, biting down gently so as to not actually hurt you, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin.

“fuck me rafe.” your fingertips are digging into his shoulders, trying not to pierce him with your nails as you grip onto his muscles, muscles he just used to pummel his opponent.

“fuck me hard.” you don't often ask for it hard or really give him any direction. rafe knows how to please you, but it's different today. you need his full force, everything he has left in him.

and he doesn't make you wait.

rafe pulls his cock out slowly before slamming in, forcing your ass back into the wall with a thud, your whole body shuddering as he thrusts.

you tighten your arms even more, needing your bodies to become one as he pumps his hips forward, the sound of skin meeting together spreading through the empty house.

tomorrow, you'll clean up the clothes off the floor. tomorrow, you'll make a large breakfast to replenish rafe from his fight and open every window in the house to let in light and air, but tonight, you're going to remain in the dark hallway with your legs wrapped around rafes waist.

“harder.” you beg again, even though you're not sure you can take it.

rafe complies, swinging faster as one of his hands manages to find a way between your bodies, tips of his fingers pressing against your clit. he knows he should fuck you longer, but he can build you up again for the second time in the bedroom, you've teased each other too much and he needs to feel you fall apart in his arms.

“you're so tight and warm.” rafe mumbles, burying his face in your neck as he huffs, absorbing your heart after being apart physically for too long, the cold air of the gym and locker room now being replaced with you.

“i love you.” rafe mumbles, lips against your neck as he presses a few kisses to your throat. “thank you.”

he doesn't need to say what for. you understand. for being with him, for encouraging him to try boxing, for standing by his side and knowing what's best for him even when he didn't know himself.

“i love you.” you moan out, pussy clenching around rafes cock as your high suddenly hits, back arching off the wall in pleasure only to be slammed back against it as rafe pushes as deep as he can go inside of you, the squeezing of your cunt triggering his own high as his cum spurts inside of you.

“f-fuck.” you whine, nails fully leaving marks now as you breathe deeply, chest rising and falling, pressing against rafes with every breath.

“let's go take a bath.” rafe says, his voice suddenly softer, almost like the sex was the last bit of excursion he needed to calm himself after the fight.

“okay.” you can't help but giggle.

despite your agreement, rafe doesn't pull out, his softening cock still inside of you and bodies connected.

“okay.” you repeat, pressing your lips against rafes cheek before resting your head against his, realizing what he needs in that moment. “i love you.”

you stay there, still, for minutes that stretch into what feels like hours, but you wouldn't trade it for the world.

“okay.” rafe finally responds, eyes blinking with a new clarity, any sort of anger or frustration he had before the fight now freed from inside him. “bath time, yeah?”

[evanhereonearth]

Dorian knows.

Dorian has always known.

He’s been by her side this whole time, treasuring every moment, as she has done with him.

He has helped her. Trusted her to know herself like only one other person ever has—and he could never begrudge her that person.

Besides, he’s to be at the forefront of a new Tevinter, and they’re the two most powerful Dreamers in Thedas.

Dorian and Lavellan have gotten by with sending crystals in the long months apart over the past ten years, but she’s never been more than a dream away.

His work is just beginning—all he has wanted for his dearest friend is for her to be able to take the mantle of the world’s salvation off her shoulders.

He will sit down with Mae tonight. They will cry. Tomorrow, a shy Rook will show up with a letter and a tentative hug and a “She asked me to keep you company today”, but tonight, it’s just Dorian and Mae and the familiar voice of an old friend that blooms just out of sight before the shape of him appears in the firelight.

“Hello,” Cole says. “You hurt, because she’s gone, but you know she didn’t leave you. I promised to go where I’m needed most. Soft sadness, songs of Solas she always sang, but also solace. I hope you’ll let me help.”

They will take care of him, Mae and Compassion and Rook, they will smooth the steps to give her and Solas time to start their healing.

One day, not too long from now, Dorian will fall asleep after a long day trying to raise a nation from the wreckage of Tevinter’s blood-and-blight-drenched shame, and she will be there. With her love. Hand in hand.

She will embrace him first, kissing his cheek, holding him tight enough he might wake with broken ribs.

And then she will step back, and Solas will take her place with a ferocity he never could have expected.

“Ma serannas, lethallin,” Solas will say to him, with the gratitude of a decade of watching their friendship hold them both together where he could not be himself. “For everything.”

This is only the beginning, not the end, of their grand friendship.

The one he loves the most is, after all, finally, finally free.

When they leave him to his dreams, he will watch two wolves lope into the distance. He will never, as long as he lives, tire of hearing them sing.

one thing i will never get over is before fighting elgar’nan, when you talk to your companions the final time, is dorian and solasmancer inquisitor looking at each other and he asks her:

“so after this…you’ll be off again?”

“something like that”

she made up her mind. she knew she was going to go with solas and she didn’t want to tell her best friend to break his heart. 😭😭 i’m sick!!

[neongalaxiie]

Caught In 4K - Part 6

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4/5

Hero's big eyes blinked up at Villain as they rubbed their head, whincing. At Hero's question, they scoffed. "Oh, y'know, just taking a nap," Villain replied, gesturing wildly with their hands.

Hero examined the space Villain had crawled beneath. "Under the seat? That's not very comfortable." They gave Villain a small smile, raising a brow.

Villain scoffed again. "You can't possibly be this naive." They rolled from under the row of seats and glanced up at the only other person in their train car, an older man who was scrolling through his phone, half asleep. Good. They probably didn't notice Villain.

Villain strained themselves upward to a standing position even as all their joints screamed, and they leaned backward to crack their back, planting their hands on their hips. Hero just watched them as they stretched their arms over their head, all the bones popping. Then Villain started with their neck and Hero flinched away in disgust.

"Okay, then what are you doing here?" Hero asked as Villain finished, taking the seat across from Hero and spreading their legs out. Villain didn't answer right away, opting to scratch the plague off their teeth. "Wait—" Hero's face shifted in contemplation before they pointed an accusing finger at Villain. "Were you following me?"

Villain inspected their finger and rubbed it. Their eyes flicked over to Hero as they raised a brow. "No. Why would I do that?"

Hero frowned, but didn't say anything. The train began to slow down and Hero stood up without offering Villain so much as a glance.

Villain made a move to get up and realized they hadn't figured out a plan this far. The doors rumbled open, and Hero stepped out, peeking backward to see Villain rushing out of their seat.

"Ah ha!" Hero exclaimed once they were both on the platform. "So you were following me."

"Woah." Sarcasm layered Villains tone. They rolled their eyes and held their palms up. "Amazing deduction, Sherlock. Really, what did you think I was doing?"

Hero hummed, turned, and walked away with bothering to give a response. Villain slouched over, gaping, before hurrying after Hero.

"So, why were you following me?" Hero asked as soon as Villain stood beside them. Villain side-eyed Hero, who was looking directly at them.

Villain turned their head away. "I was told... to keep an eye on you... after what happened." They met Hero's eyes. "To... make sure nothing... uncalled for happened."

It was Hero's turn to look away. They rubbed at their eyes and sniffed, but wouldn't let Villain see. Villain's forehead creased. Was Hero crying?

The duo climbed up the steps and emerged into the dark city, lit up by streetlights. They walked in silence for a while, Villain not daring to be the first to speak.

Then Hero's broken voice came. "I— I'm being executed."

Nothing could have prepared Villain for that. Their eyes went wide and they clutched their chest, breaths coming ragged. They felt like they were having a heart attack. Hero gave them an irritated look.

"Stop being so dramatic."

"Sorry," Villain said, dropping the act. "When is it happening?"

More tears, but Hero forced it out. "Tomorrow... is my last day. At 5 pm they'll..."

Hero broke down, unable to finish their sentence. Villain offered them a comforting pat on the back.

"Hey, Hero, it's okay. We'll figure it out, okay? Let's just get home and we'll come up with a plan."

"How?" Hero wailed. "It's not like—"

"We will, trust me." Villain patted their shoulder. "Hey, look at me."

Villain turned Hero toward them by their shoulders, and they stopped walking. Villain stared into Hero's eyes. "Listen," Villain continued, "You will not die. Under no circumstances will I let you, especially not for this ridiculous reason. This system the Hero Organization has is messed up and we're gonna fight against it, okay?"

Hero nodded, not trusting their voice, and wiped the tears off their cheeks. "Good," Villain finished, leading them down the path. "Now, let's get home. We'll settle down and then we'll make a plan."

[nekrosmos]

Tell me your silliest takes on Nikolai and Price? <3 Or any headcanons you have of either of them, really.

Silly NikPrice, I can do :3c

I think Nik is a hugger even in his sleep and sometimes Price wakes up in the middle of the night because he has to piss and can't escape those massive bear arms (and Nik would try to pull him closer even as he's sleeping) and it's a silent battle that ensues, often ending in Price giving up.

When Price is being particularly grumpy or strict for some reason, Gaz likes to act mysterious and say "I know a way to calm him down" to Soap and Ghost. He never lies, however, as all it takes is for him to send a text to Nik, and for Nik to send a picture of himself in various states of undress to Price. The face John makes when he glances at his phone, only for his ears to turn all red as he fumbles an excuse that he has to go check something in his office, is something the 141 never gets tired of.

Most of the time, Nik makes the big gestures. That man is a romantic and now that he finally has John, he's gonna make him feel like he's the most beautiful man in the world. However, sometimes Price surprises him too. The smile on Nikolai's face when John gets him with something he didn't expect is worth everything to John. The love making that follows is out of this world, too.

Nik loooooooves to find ways to sneakily touch Price when he really shouldn't be doing that. Maybe they're sitting around a table negotiating important intel with shady people from Nik's side when Price suddenly feels Nik's boots against his crotch and sees him smirks at him from across the table. Asshole. Or maybe the two are undercover in a van, eying an area at night for someone they need to crab, Price's eyes glued to his binoculars when Nik's hand suddenly sneaks past his belt and boxers and starts teasing him. Even worse, the person they were waiting to retrieve finally shows up and Price has to grab a guy while almost fully hard and unsatisfied. Thanks, Nik.

Sometimes they like to slow dance together. Just the two of them, in Price's house or his quarters, whatever. They put some quiet music and just start doing it naturally. It's gentle, it's quiet, it's just them and they can finally have a moment to breath and enjoy each other's embrace. John never feels more at peace than when in Nik's arms, and Nik is happy to oblige, big hands stroking through Price's hair and staring into his blue eyes. Sometimes one of them ends up saying a very, very bad joke, and they start laughing, almost uncontrollably, more out of exhaustion than anything, and they end up falling on a nearby couch or bed and they laugh and laugh together like nothing else in this world matters but them.

Nik watching Price struggle to order food in Russian while they're in a russian speaking country. He could help him, but it's just so damn adorable to watch him fumble through his words and see John's panicked glance turn back to him when he failed to order coffee for the third time in a row. John's revenge is to speak in slang he damn well knows Nik won't understand for the rest of the day.

Every time John is cold in bed, snuggling close to Nik, it reminds him of that time when they were way, way younger and got sent off somewhere in Eastern Europe in the middle of winter, and the two had to bunker down in a shitty hotel, in a shitty bedroom that (gasp) had only one shitty bed and whose heater was broken. It had been a little bit awkward at the time, and Nik had offered to sleep on the floor, which John had refused, offering it in return, only for Nik to also shut him down. Eventually, the two had climbed into bed, backs turned to one another, until John began to shiver uncontrollably, the thin blanket not helping with the freezing temperatures. Quietly, Nik had turned around and gently wrapped his arms around John. None of them said anything, no words were exchanged, and Price quickly stopped shivering. There were no mention of this happening the day after, or the day after, not until years later when the two began their relationship and Nik admitted it had been extremely difficult to stop himself from kissing the back of Price's neck that night, or let his hands wander. Price admitted the same, and the two had laughed it off. There had been plenty of opportunities to do just that since then.

[beef-brisket]

Adam: Also, that number I messaged you on his my personal one. So, you know. No boots calls, babe. My plates full enough, as it is.

Lucifer chuckled. He knew Adam was only joking to lose some of the tension, amd he appreciated it.

Adam: You look like shit, by the way.

Lucifer: Gee, thanks. I even showered before coming here. Last time, I pulled out all the stops to look presentable for you.

Adam smirked: Yeah, well. Take care of yourself, okay? For completely selfish reasons.

Lucifer slightly panics when Adam gets up to leave.

Lucifer: Wait! I... when will I hear from you?

Adam looks at Lucifer before opening the calendar on his phone.

Adam: How about... in two weeks?

Lucifer quickly nodded: I-I can do two weeks. I'll get everything ready for you- a room and- clothes! And clothes for Avery! I've... I've made her a few toys to... I haven't finished them, so I don't have any to give you- I wasn't even really sure if it was you that messaged! I thought- it was some... I don't know... I'm rambling.

Adam: Seriously? After falling, that's the one trait you still have? Your fucking nervous ramble?

Lucifer chuckled awkwardly: Uh- yeah. Not fair, huh?

Adam: ...can you still do a flip?

Lucifer: A flip? You know how old I am, right?

Adam: ...I can do a flip- don't ask me to do it here. I'd rather not spend the next day recovering from a broken neck.

Lucifer: I thought you said you could do one.

Adam: Rooms too small. You can give her the toys when we come down. It'll text you a few days before.

Lucifer nodded: Thank you, Adam.

Adam: Yeah, yeah. I'm fucking lovely. Later, bitch.

Adam did a devil horns hand signal before teleporting back to Heaven. Lucifer sat back, relived. He took out his phone and opened Avery's photo. He could tell how big she's gotten.

He smiled and held his phone to his chest. He can't wait to see her. To see Adam again.

What about an au where Adam goes to Hell for night trips, wher ehe just parties and fucks. He has a disguise (it's just a slightly different looking helmet).

Lucifer joins his daughter and her friends at a bar, where he sees "Adam". He instantly knows it's him, but he's curious as to what he's doing.

So Lucifer spends hours flitting with him and buying him drinks to get him drunk. But Lucifer actually finds himself having a great time.

Long story short- they fuck, Adam doesn't let Lucifer know he's Adam. He goes back to Heaven and after a few months, he finds out he's pregnant.

Which is fucking weird cause he's definitely a dude, and he's very dead. But Lucifer's the Devil 🤷.

He basically has to play it off as him getting fat. It's working until the next meeting with Lucifer happens during his ninth month, and he's goes into labor right in front of Lucifer.

Lucifer: Why didn't you tell me your were fucking pregnant!?

Adam: Because you didn't know it was me!!

Lucifer: Yes I did! You have the same face!

Adam: ..... Oh..

[velvet4510]

The implications of Charles and Erik seeking out Logan in The Wolverine post-credits scene together are so huge that they really should be talked about more.

This is clearly a few months to a few years after The Last Stand, and it’s the very first time Logan is learning Charles is alive, and yet Erik is already well aware of it and they are approaching him as a team just as they did 50 years earlier at the bar. Erik even gives Logan the most certain and assuring head-nod when Logan looks at him for silent confirmation that Charles is really there.

So … how long has Erik known Charles is alive? Could he have been the first person besides Moira to find out? Is Logan now the first of the X-Men to find out? You’d think Hank or Ororo would’ve called him as soon as they heard. What have Charles and Erik been doing up till now?

It really touches the Cherik shipper in me - it’s not at all outside the realm of possibility that once they reunited after Erik had temporarily lost his powers, they just completely went off the grid for a while to steal some time together and help each other before the Sentinel thing became impossible to ignore.

If you think about it, at that point in time between The Last Stand and The Wolverine - however long it was - they both were at their absolute lowest, physically and mentally/emotionally. Charles was adjusting to an entirely new body as a result of getting almost killed by his surrogate daughter who he failed to save, and it’s quite possible that his powers may have needed an adjustment period as well; he also likely heard about Jean’s death in the news and thus had to deal with the losses of two of his most beloved students who were like family to him and were probably his vision of the future of the X-Men for a long time. Erik was adjusting to suddenly living without the powers that were so essential to his identity, as well as dealing with the guilt of unintentionally unleashing the Phoenix more than once, and once again accidentally causing Charles to get badly hurt. They both were facing massive loss and massive identity crises and massive PTSD - and seeing Charles alive again would not automatically erase Erik’s memory of watching him get blown to smithereens in front of him and thinking he’d lost him forever. And while Erik’s process of regaining his powers is obvious, it’s likely that Charles too needed some time to get his bearings in terms of his own mutation, as well as everything else he was going through.

So this was really a time where they needed each other, more than ever. They both were so deeply broken and lost that they were on the same page and in the same place for the first time, honestly ever. As someone who’d experienced permanent loss after permanent loss after permanent loss over the course of his life, there’s no doubt that Erik vowed not to let his unexpected second chance with Charles go to waste. It probably didn’t take long for them to rekindle what they - in that timeline - hadn’t truly shared since 1962. I imagine it was not dissimilar to Wanda and Vision’s first scene together in Avengers: Infinity War - hiding away in an isolated place, stealing some peace and quiet, and just letting themselves spend precious time together. And there may have been even more “rage and serenity” moments as they helped each other nurse their powers back to life.

Since it was offscreen, we can only imagine how many tears of grief, joy, relief, frustration, and love were shed during that period, before they found Logan.

[merrybloomwrites]

Little Things (Chapter 2)

Summary: It's time for you to leave the shelter to move into your new home with your doms, Harry and Louis. It's a tough transition, but the two of them are there to help you through it.

Word Count: 3.5K

CW: mentions of past abuse, dom/sub au dynamics, mentions of littlespace

Previous chapters: one

AN: Thank you to all who showed interest in the first chapter of this! I've had a lot of ideas in mind for this story and I'm happy to finally be sharing them.

This wasn't supposed to get posted until next Friday but I got impatient and I make the rules, so here it is now! Also I'm finishing the third chapter right now, which is finally all about reader going into little headpsace, and will probably post that tomorrow

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You sit in your room at the shelter, trying not to stress over what just happened. Ms. Emily had brought you to her office where you met two men, two doms named Harry and Louis who were married. She had explained they were looking to adopt a sub. More specifically, they wanted to adopt a little.

And while you technically fell into that category, you knew they wouldn’t want you. Doms looking for littles want someone who is in headspace a lot. And you never slip if you can help it. 

You’ve only gone into your littlespace three times since you were rescued. Ms. Emily was there each time, and she took care of you and always reassured you once you came back up, but you still didn’t like it. You felt like a burden, and you were scared of how you acted. You don’t feel like yourself when you slip. It’s like this whole other person takes over and you just have to watch as she basically possesses your body.

So yea, there’s no way these doms will choose you. Years of abuse have broken you, made you into a bad sub who’s unworthy of love and care.

The afternoon passes with you dwelling on these thoughts. 

Which is why you’re shocked to your core when Ms. Emily comes back and asks if you’d like to live with Louis and Harry. 

“They don’t want me,” you answer.

“Now why would you say that?” she asks.

“I’m not good enough. I’ll never be what they’re looking for. I can’t be.”

Emily wraps her arms around you, and you lean into her. It had taken a while for you to get comfortable with hugs, but she’d worked with you for weeks and now it doesn’t feel so weird. It feels kind of nice to be held by her. 

“Sweetheart,” she begins. “You are good enough. You are worthy of love, Y/N. And that’s what Harry and Louis want to give you.” 

“Wait, what?” You pull back enough to look her in the eyes and say, “What do you mean?”

She smiles and says, “They’d like to adopt you.”

“No way. Why would they choose me?”

“Well they were moved by your story-”

You cut her off to say, “So they know. They know how messed up I am. Do they just feel bad for me? Pity me?”

“No, honey. It’s not that. First of all, you are not messed up. You had a lot of messed up stuff happen to you, but you survived that. And they don’t pity you. But they do see someone deserving of a loving home, and that is what they have to offer.”

“They really want me?” you ask, needing to hear it again.

“Yes, Y/N. They want you. Didn’t hesitate, didn’t need any time to think it over. They met you and knew you were the match for them.” Tears fill your eyes as you listen to Emily. Never before had you been wanted. Your family hadn’t wanted you, the one sub amongst all the older dom siblings. They didn’t love you, just used you to fulfill their sick fantasies. 

But Louis and Harry. They want you. They’re choosing you. And though you’re scared, worried that you’ll disappoint them, hope begins to fill you. For the first time, you may have a true home. So when Ms. Emily asks you again if you want to live with them, you immediately say yes.

You don’t get to go with them right away though. They come back the next day to spend time with you and help you feel more comfortable with them. They’re kind, and gentle, and you like being with them. 

On Friday they come again and this time you leave the shelter with them to go to lunch. It’s weird being out in public, especially when they explain who they are and that they’re famous. This makes you feel nervous, but they reassure you that your safety and privacy is a top priority for them. 

One thing you notice is that they never tell you what to do. You’re always given choices, and they ask you questions, wanting to know your opinion. They let you choose the restaurant and allow you to pick anything off of the menu. 

And while it’s nice that they’re giving you freedom, it makes you a bit uncomfortable. It’s not in your nature to make so many decisions, and truthfully, it has you feeling fatigued. You wish that they’d tell you what to do, make the decisions for you. That’s the way it should be. They’re the doms, and you’re the sub. 

Back at the shelter that night you talk to Ms. Emily about those feelings. She says that you shouldn’t be afraid to tell them about your needs. That they’ll want to listen and do what is best for you. 

You spend the weekend preparing to leave the shelter for good, as you’ll be leaving Monday afternoon to go to Harry and Louis’ home. It’s weird to leave here, as it’s the first place you’ve ever felt safe. But you know that this has always been the goal. To find a permanent home, a family of your own. 

It’s sad saying goodbye to Ms. Emily, but she reassures you that she will keep in touch and you’ll still see her. She’s surprised when you go back for one more hug, but holds you tight for a moment and lets herself feel the pride at how far you’ve already come. 

The boys lead you to the car, where two other people wait. Louis introduces them as a driver and a security guard. You’re wondering if this is normal, and like he can read your mind, Louis adds, “We’re just being extra cautious today. It’s our first time being responsible for someone else, I hope you don’t mind us going a bit overboard.”

“No, it’s okay. I don’t mind,” you reply.

“Well then, let’s get you home,” Harry says. The three of you slide in the backseat. You’re in the middle squished between the two. Before you can click in your seatbelt, you find Louis has grabbed it to do it for you. It’s a caregiver move for sure, and you once again hope they won’t be disappointed if you’re unable to be little in the way they want. 

It’s a quiet drive, and you sit as still as possible to not bring any attention to yourself. It’s something you’d learned growing up and it’s a hard habit to break.

Finally the car pulls into a long, gated driveway. Based on that, you’re expecting a huge mansion, but you’re pleasantly surprised to see a nice, cute, albeit fairly large, house. Big enough to hold a fair number of people, but not so enormous as to be overwhelming or garish. 

Harry leads you inside while Louis grabs your bag from the car. You stand just inside the doorway, looking around while waiting for instructions from your doms on what to do next, where you’re allowed to go.

It’s a relief when Louis says, “Let’s do a little tour, shall we?”

He and Harry lead you from room to room, starting with all the main spaces downstairs. There’s the living room, kitchen, dining room, library, den, laundry room, and two bathrooms. They also show you the door that leads out to the backyard, and they reassure you that it’s completely private. You peer at the high fence that surrounds the entire property, and for a second you feel uneasy. If something goes wrong, if they’re not as nice as they seem, you’ll be trapped. But you try to push those thoughts away. They’ve been nothing but kind. They’re nothing like your family. They won’t hurt you.

Next you’re led upstairs to be shown all the bedrooms. There’s two guest rooms, Harry and Louis’ room, and then they end with yours. It’s bigger than you’d expected, a large bed and a matching dresser and desk. There’s a bookshelf filled with a mix of novels and picture books. The more you look, the more you pick up on things that indicate this is a room for a little.

The dresser is low, and the top is soft, showing that it doubles as a changing table. There are toys suited for a young child. The bed has removable railings that can be put in place when you’re little to make sure you don’t fall out of bed. And then you notice the camera.

Harry sees you look at it with trepidation and says, “That will only be turned on when you’re little. The rest of the time we’ll keep it off so you can have privacy. It’s just to make sure you’re safe. Is that alright?”

“Yes, that’s fine,” you reply. It makes you more uncomfortable that he’s asking you for your opinion. He’s the dominant here, you’re the submissive. If they wanted to keep a camera on at all times that’s well within their right to do so. It’s strange to you that they keep giving you so many choices, and you wish they wouldn’t. 

“What’s wrong?” Louis asks, picking up on your discomfort.

“Nothing,” you quickly reply, not wanting to seem ungrateful by complaining.

“Why don’t we all sit and chat for a bit?” Harry says.

“Okay,” you reply.

“Would you be more comfortable here or in the living room?” he asks. 

Again with the choices. Even something as simple as that is weighing on you. Before you can control it you’re shouting out, “Please stop!” 

Immediately you’re horrified by your outburst. You’d misbehaved, surely you’re going to be punished, or maybe even sent back. You couldn’t even last an hour without ruining it. You look up in horror and begin to apologize, saying, “I’m sorry. Sir, I am so, so sorry. I didn’t- I don’t know what that was. Please, don’t send me back, I’ll be better.” 

The room is silent for a moment, no one knowing how to handle this situation. 

“Y/N, sit down,” Louis finally says. You do as you’re told, sitting on the edge of the bed. There’s a rocking chair in the corner of the room you’re facing, and Louis sits there, leaning forward towards you. Harry stands between, letting Louis take control from the moment.

“First of all, we will not be sending you back,” Louis says. “You live here now, with us. And while in the future you may be punished for speaking to us like that, you won’t be this time. You’re learning, and this is an adjustment for everyone. Obviously something is bothering you, but we can’t fix that unless you communicate with us. Y/N, please tell us what is wrong.”

“You keep asking me questions. Wanting me to choose things,” you answer.

“And would you rather us make the decisions?” he asks and you nod yes. 

Harry speaks next and asks, “Is it because you think we should be in charge and always tell you what to do?” 

“Well, yeah. Subs aren’t supposed to have freedom. We’re supposed to do what doms tell us to do,” you explain.

Harry moves closer, crouching down right beside you. He looks up, starts to move his hand like he’s reaching for you but decides against it. “Sweetheart, of course you have freedom. We aren’t like other dominants. We don’t believe that you’re less than us. You get to have opinions, you get to have control over your life.”

You listen and think about what he’s saying. It scares you, the idea of running your own life. You imagine what that will be like, how loud and confusing your mind will be trying to figure out what to do, what you want. 

“That’s too much,” you say. “Too much pressure. I could choose wrong. Please don’t make me do that.”

Louis speaks up again and says, “Would you feel better if we made the decisions? Set rules and routines for you to follow?”

You imagine that, simply fulfilling what they tell you to do, and everything goes calm, quiet. Peace washes over you at the thought, and so you answer, “Yes. I want to do as I’m told. It’s in my nature.”

They both smile as you say that. Because you’re right. And they’re proud of you for knowing that and having the courage to express your needs. 

“Then we can do that,” Harry says. “Here’s what we’ll do for now. There’s about an hour until dinner. You stay here for half an hour to settle and then come down to the living room until the food is ready. That way you can get comfortable with both of those spaces. After dinner we’ll sit and go over rules and routines.”

“Yes sir,” you reply. 

“Y/N, I’d like for you to call me Harry. Titles like sir will be reserved for punishments, and we can discuss what you’ll call us when you’re in littlespace. But for the most part, you’re to call me Harry.”

“Same goes for me. Well, no, I mean, call me Louis. It’d be a bit confusing if you were to call me Harry, huh?” Louis says, causing all of you to laugh. The tension breaks and Harry and Louis both stand to leave.

“We’ll be in the kitchen if you need us for anything. You may come find us at any time,” Harry says.

“I’ll drop off your bag in a minute,” Louis says and they both walk out of the room. 

There’s a bathroom attached to your room so you first use that. When you walk back out, your bag is sitting on the bed. You neatly put away what little belongings you have, noticing the dresser and closet are filled with clothes for you. It doesn’t escape you that some are a much younger style, clearly meant for when you slip into headspace. 

Sighing, you close up those drawers and lay on the bed. It’s comfy, soft with lots of pillows and a pretty floral comforter. And it’s a space all your own, something you’ve never had before. You stay there and relax until a timer goes off. You grab it from the bedside table and make your way down to the living room.

Louis is waiting there for you and seeing you enter right on time he says, “That’s a good girl, listening so well to directions. We’d like you to use this time to work on something, either read a book or do a puzzle. Something to keep your mind active. Would you like me to choose for you?”

You think for a minute and reply, “I’d like to do a puzzle. But can you please pick which one?”

“Of course, love,” he says as he walks over to one of the shelves. He looks for a moment then grabs a box and says, “Here, this one’s nice.”

“Thank you, Louis.” 

“I’m going to see if Harry needs my help. You get started on this.”

You sit on the floor in front of the coffee table and begin to pull out the edge pieces. Getting lost in the task, you jump when Harry walks in saying, “Dinner’s ready.” Seeing that he’s startled you he then says, “Sorry, love, didn’t mean to scare you. Did you do all of that in just a few minutes? Good job!”

You’ve completed the entire outline and were starting to sort the inner pieces by shape, a trick one of the other subs at the shelter had taught you. And while you’d made progress, it was only a puzzle. Nothing really to be proud about, but there’s Harry, looking like you’ve solved world hunger. It makes you feel warm inside, this praise that they seem to give quite freely. 

“C’mon, you can leave that here to work on again later. Go wash up and meet us in the dining room,” Harry says. You do as you’re told and the scent that hits you once you get to the table has your mouth watering.

Growing up you’d been fed enough to sustain you. Never anything fancy or particularly tasty. It was for survival, not enjoyment.

The food at the shelter was good, definitely tastier than you’d ever had before.

But this, whatever Harry has made, looks a thousand times better than even the best food at the shelter. The three of you sit and eat, Harry and Louis supplying most of the conversation, which you’re grateful for. When it’s done they tell you to head back to the living room and they’ll meet you after they clean up.

“Can I help clean?” you ask. You feel bad that you haven’t done anything to help so far, and you’re hoping to pitch in now so you feel less like a freeloader. 

“Not tonight love. Later we’ll talk about the different jobs you’ll have around the house, but none of that will start until we’ve all discussed it,” Louis answers. 

“I understand,” you say and turn to head to the living room as you were told. You work on the puzzle more until both Harry and Louis join you. 

“Have a seat there,” Louis says, pointing to the armchair. They sit on the couch across from it, ensuring that you can see both of them clearly for this conversation. 

“It’s become clear that you do well with set boundaries and routine, is that fair to say?” Harry asks.

You nod, and Harry adds, “First rule, always respond verbally unless you’re too young mentally to do so.”

“Yes, sir,” you answer quickly.

“Y/N, you’re not in trouble, you don’t have to call me sir. You’re still learning,” Harry says.

“Let’s go over the rules we have and the schedule we’ve made up for you,” Louis quickly says. 

For the next half hour the three of you talk. They explain all of the expectations they have for you, and give you papers with your rule list and daily schedule so you can keep those in your room to refer to when needed. 

“Of course, all of this will be changed and adjusted when you’re in littlespace, but if you’re old enough to follow a certain rule then you’ll still be expected to follow it,” Louis says after everything is discussed.

You don’t reply, looking down at the papers you’re holding instead.

“What is it, what’s wrong?” Harry asks.

You take a deep breath and begin to explain why that might not happen often. “I don’t go into headspace much. When I was with my family they would just leave me alone and I’d wake up starving and a mess, and well, you can imagine. Or they’d do things to me because I couldn’t fight back. So I trained myself not to slip. Even now I try not to. It scares me to be so vulnerable. So just, please don’t be disappointed if I’m not as much of a little as you were hoping for.”

Neither of them answer you so you finally look up. You’re not prepared to see tears streaming down Harry’s face or swimming in Louis' eyes. Their reactions have you wanting to break down, but you can’t. Not now. Not yet. You look back at the papers in your lap and distract yourself by studying the rules until both doms have stopped their tears.

Louis is the first to speak. “Y/N, we don’t have any sort of expectations for you. If you do slip, or you don’t slip, that’s fine with us. We’re prepared to take care of you no matter what. Your safety and happiness is what matters.” Harry nods along with him to show that he agrees with everything Louis is saying.

“Thank you,” is all you manage to say. For now, you hope that it’s enough. 

“It’s been a long day,” Harry says. “And according to your schedule it’s time to get ready for bed. C’mon, we’ll head up with you.”

The three of you go upstairs, and the boys remain in your bedroom while you get ready in the bathroom. When you’re finished you see that they’ve pulled back the covers, and it looks so cozy and inviting.

“If you’re comfortable with it, we’d like to tuck you in each night,” Louis explains. “We feel it’s a good way for us to connect with you. Plus it just seems like a nice way to wind down at the end of the day.”

“I think I’d like that,” you answer. Sliding into bed, Harry tucks the blankets around you. There’s only a soft lamp on, casting a warm glow to the room. They tell you that you can come to their room if you need them, or you can press a button that’s on the bedside table that sends an alert to their phones. You feel so content and safe knowing that they’ll always be there if you need them. 

Before they go, they each press a gentle kiss to the top of your head, wishing you a good night and sweet dreams. It doesn’t take long for you to fall into a peaceful sleep, so content, and for the first time ever, so hopeful for your future.

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AN: Thank you for reading! Like I said, chapter 3 should be out tomorrow! I literally woke up this morning and decided to start it and now it's at 3.5K words and almost finished.

Next chapter here!

[eerna]

ab jinx's possible suicide (although i believe she's alive): I can't lie, i wasn't surprised at all. yes it feels shitty, yes it feels terrible. but by LoL Arcane archives (which riot DIDN'T release for everyone and i think that's fucking shitty bc i feel like some ppl didn't have access to that but it's very important Vi and Jinx), she unfortunately grew up creating this idea that dying and death aren't bad things. in Powder's diary she expresses how it feels weird to be killing all those ppl, how she didn't really get why would Silco kill them if killing is bad, and eventually she expresses how she can't see why ppl get sad and mad ab dying, because dying means going to a better place. for Jinx, dying is redemption. that's why breaking the cycle means killing herself, not as a bad thing, but as getting into a better place. which is tragic and terrible and fucking sad, but i can't say i didn't see it coming, i did.

but what i think it's worse ab that ending is that, if she doesn't kill herself and decides to live because she now sees she's not alone, that life is worth living, that she can get a good thing being alive, (and she's going away, there's this part of the theory) Ekko and Vi don't know she's alive. the people who want her the most, who love her the most, who didn't give up on her, don't know she's alive and can't reach her to then build a good life with her in some way. that's the part that pisses me off, because if you're not commiting to the tragedy of her death by her own hands because of her own ideas, you're also not giving a clear opportunity for the character to build a better phase. IT'S LIKE THE THING IS CUT IN HALF (both for her and for Vi) and I can't stress enough how that's pissing me off

Yeah, I think you are right :((((( I was an idealist dreaming of her finding a place with Zaunites... A few days back I was taking to a friend and she also pointed out that she knew Jinx was dying in the end simply because mentally ill characters who make that many mistakes AND stir civil unrest are never ever given an opportunity to be anything more than a tragedy. She is presented as too broken to be of any good to anyone, because her helping the people is not seen as something truly redeemable, the only thing that matters is the personal mistakes she made. Even in survival, she doesn't have the right to happiness. Oh I am tearing up a bit, it is very sad to think about, and very unfair. I can see the thematic resonance in her never speaking to Vi again but c'mon the entirety of Zaun was there to have her back, that must have counted for something

[knivestothroats]

The Professionals masterlist In The Woods Somewhere masterlist | Professional//Victim masterlist

Here's a long ass update to make up for me posting infrequently. CW: human trafficking, captive whumpee, death threats We're gonna take it back now y'all

Day One

Something was deeply, deeply wrong. 

Tommy hadn’t been taken anywhere without Caius for more than five goddamn years. If he was being whisked off to a client, he hadn’t been prepped, and his handler wasn’t there to keep him subdued. Whatever pills Rory had given him back in the basement had worn off, and the panic was starting to set in. Did Caius even know he was here? 

The car came to an unexpected halt on a dirt road, a few short paces away from an old truck pulled off to the side. There was nothing else around for miles, nothing but endless forest. Even if Tommy could break away, he wouldn’t get far. The thick shock collar around his throat guaranteed that much. 

The windows slowly rolled down. They were letting him out here?

Rory got out, as did the driver of the pickup. The client(?) leaned against their truck, one hand in the pocket of their bulky denim coat, the other holding a small duffel bag by their side. They exchanged a few words that Tommy couldn’t hear, then peered right at Tommy. It sent a chill down his spine, like he was prey being spotted by a predator. They unzipped the bag and showed the contents to Rory, before closing it again and slinging it over their shoulder. The two of them shook hands.

Rory returned to the car, walking up to Tommy’s side. He reached through the window, unlocking the cuffs from around the door handle and reclosing them around Tommy’s wrists. 

“What are we doing?” Tommy asked. 

Rory opened the door and took hold of Tommy’s arm, pulling him out. 

“Where’s Caius?”

Rory didn’t answer, just guided Tommy toward the stranger and their truck.

“You never take me to clients,” Tommy continued, trying to keep his voice from sounding frantic and panicked. “I wasn’t briefed at all!”

Rory brought Tommy to a halt in front of the stranger, grip still firm on his arm.

Except… no, it wasn’t a stranger. 

Tommy recognized those cold, deep eyes; the way they watched him with a viscious hunger. 

Fletcher.

They had met at an event he’d been taken to as a product demonstration. Fletcher had taken an interest in Tommy, talked to him like a person instead of an object to be broken, and then was called upon by Caius to torture him in front of a crowd. And they delivered. 

They must’ve given in to temptation and finally rented Tommy to get to torture him again. But still… why wasn’t anyone telling him what was going on? 

“We good?” Rory asked. 

“We’re good,” Fletcher responded, eyes still focused on Tommy. “You can put him in the passenger seat.”

Rory pulled Tommy around to the other side of the truck and gave him a shove to step up into the cab. He secured his cuffs around the inner door handle again before shutting him in.

Why are we taking their truck?

Fletcher handed Rory the bag. Rory traded it for one much smaller he pulled from his coat pocket, dropping the handcuff keys into it before giving it over. 

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Rory said. He scurried off, past the back seat, past the truck entirely, and back to his own car, throwing the duffel bag in the trunk.

“Wait, wait, aren’t you coming?!” Tommy called after him.

Rory hadn’t answered any of his questions before, and he wasn’t going to start now. He got into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and drove away.

“Rory!” Tommy yelled as if there was any hope of being heard. “Where the fuck is Caius?!”

Tommy jumped when the door slammed shut opposite him. Fletcher, settling into the driver’s seat, kept staring at him with this look. Their face was expressionless, but their eyes were focused, like a sighthound.

Tommy curled in on himself, pressing against the door. His heart was hammering in his chest but he could barely move, caught somewhere between flight and fawn. 

Fight had died long ago. He worked with what he had left. 

Did Caius know where Tommy was, what was happening? Why would he not be here? Could he possibly trust Fletcher to take Tommy alone?

The truck started, and they pulled back out onto the road, heading in the opposite direction. Tommy stole a glance at Fletcher, searching for some sign of intention. 

What kind of body language says, “I am looking forward to killing you”?

But Fletcher wasn’t looking at him at all anymore; they just kept their eyes on the road. 

Tommy wracked his brains for anything he knew about Fletcher. 

He knew they liked to torture people. He knew they were a professional at it. They reveled in the reactions they elicited by causing pain. And he knew first hand that they were very, very good at it. 

Other than that? Not much. At the event where they had met, they were dressed up in a suit and tie. Now they wore a jean jacket over a flannel shirt, hair tucked under a beanie, cargo pants tucked into boots. Their truck was not new, though it seemed well maintained. There was a thin chain of charms hanging off the rearview mirror. What did any of this mean for him? His vision was going blurry.

“Please… don’t cry the whole time,” Fletcher groaned, putting their hand up. “It’s a long drive.”

Tommy hadn’t even realized he’d been crying. He hunched over and wiped his face on his sleeve the best he could.

“Sorry,” he sniffed quietly. “Where… are we going?”

“Back to my place.”

“And Caius is… okay with this…?”

Fletcher looked at him finally, raising an eyebrow. “They didn’t tell you anything?”

Tommy swallowed and shook his head. 

Fletcher turned their attention back to the road. “You’re not on a job; I bought you. Like, permanently, not for the night or whatever.”

Tommy felt cold suddenly. The truck was moving too much - he was dizzy. 

“No…” he said under his breath.

Fletcher raised their eyebrows at him again. “Yes.”

NO. NO. That fucker doesn’t get to just - what, throw me away, after all this? He took everything from me, made me exactly what he fucking wanted, and now - now he couldn’t even spare a damn goodbye?!

How could he get rid of me?!

He wanted to scream, and shout, and thrash and fight and demand god to strike down that dirty bastard. And yet, he was frozen, paralyzed by the weight of it. His chest ached like his ribs were curling in around his heart, crushing whatever was left of it in a fatal embrace. He wished it would. But the pain didn’t end, it just pulsed endlessly inside him. And he knew god would not strike Caius down, just like he hadn’t any other time Tommy had begged. 

As his situation started to sink in, his teeth started to chatter like he was freezing. He had to bite down to suppress it. He slowly turned in horror to Fletcher, as he realized the stranger beside him decided his fate. 

Fletcher was his master now; that’s what mattered. He had to find out what they wanted from him and deliver it.

“What, um… what do you want from me?”

“Mm…” Fletcher drummed their fingers against the steering wheel. “Household work. Teaching assistance. Punching bag.” Fletcher shrugged. 

Household work made sense - that wasn’t scary. Punching bag made sense, too, although he didn’t feel as good about it. 

“Teaching assistance?” Tommy echoed.

“Yeah, I run a training program for mercs and mobsters,” Fletcher explained. “It’s easier when I have someone to demonstrate on sometimes.”

“Demonstrate… what kind of things?”

Fletcher sighed, shrugged, shook their head. Fuck, he was annoying them already. 

“Like, holds, target spots, maneuvers, whatever,” was Fletcher’s explanation. 

Tommy didn’t ask any further questions, fearing Fletcher’s ire. He turned and watched the scenery out the window. This little trip was the most he’d seen of sunlight since he’d been sentenced to the hole, and he tried to soak up as much of it as he could. He pressed against the window, his face following the arc of the sun like a sunflower. There wasn’t much to look at other than fields and trees, the occasional train track cutting through. Farm houses and industrial buildings became more and more scarce as they drove. Fletcher turned on some music to fill the silence.

After what felt somehow both like a long time and far too soon, Fletcher slowed the truck. Tommy whipped his head around, trying to figure out why they would be stopping again on an empty country road. 

The truck turned seemingly at random and drove into the trees. It grew dark under the canopy of the branches above, and still the truck tunneled deeper.

Tommy’s anxiety bubbled up inside of him again.

They’re taking me out to the middle of nowhere to kill me. Caius always threatened that people would pay good money to snuff me, and he finally accepted an offer. All that stuff about housework and teaching was bullshit - that’s why their explanation was so flimsy. 

God, they were still driving. The truck was moving slowly, winding its way through the undergrowth and trees, but they were deep enough that Tommy couldn’t see the road.

He tugged on the cuffs again. What were his chances if he tried to run when they unlocked him? As long as he ran back the way they came…

They were nowhere near town. Maybe it was better just to hide somewhere until Fletcher… gave up on looking? And then, what? Build a shelter and fire with his bare hands? Hunt and forage for his food until he found his way back to civilization?

He tried to size Fletcher up, but the likelihood of him being able to overpower them seemed slim, considering the fact that they just told him they literally teach a class on how to hurt people, and he hadn’t eaten since yesterday. Still, no harm in trying if he was going to die anyway. But… if Rory gave them the keys, Fletcher probably held the remote to his collar as well. Tommy’s breathing quickened and he couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over again. 

The trees were beginning to turn vibrant shades of yellow and red, flittering down lightly when the breeze came through. 

At least it was a pretty place to die.

“Ugh, why are you crying?” Fletcher demanded. “There’s no way you liked those guys!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Tommy wiped his eyes against his shoulder. “I’ll stop. I’ll be good. Okay? I can do whatever you want. I’m - I’m really good at - at doing whatever… whatever I have to do.”

Fletcher glanced at him.

 “...Yeah.” It was blunt, like he had stated the obvious.

“You want me to beg, I’ll beg. You want me to shut up and I’ll shut up. I can help around the house, I can help with the training, I can - I can take a beating, I can do whatever you want. I can make you feel good. I can be useful, I just need to be alive to do it.”

A look of realization crossed Fletcher’s face. “You think I’m going to kill you.”

Tommy hesitated to respond. “I think… I can… prove that it’s better if you don’t.”

“I’m not going to kill you,” Fletcher scoffed. “Do you know how much I just spent on you?”

Tommy studied their face, trying to determine if they were telling the truth.

“A lot of people would spend a lot of money for that,” he answered quietly.

Fletcher chuckled. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“If… you’re not going to kill me…” Tommy spoke carefully, watching for any signs that he was making Fletcher angry. “What are we doing driving out into the middle of the woods?”

“I live here.”

Tommy looked out the window. “You live… in the woods?”

He flinched when Fletcher suddenly reached out and clapped a hand on his shoulder, giving him a sharp grin.

“We live in the woods.”

Just then, the world became light again. The truck entered a clearing, and pulled up to a house. 

It was so out of place it was disorienting to look at. 

“What…” Tommy was dumbstruck. “What is this place?”

“My house.” Fletcher parked and unbuckled. “I call it the lodge.”

“The Lodge” was well-built, modernized with solar panels on the roof without straying too far from a rustic look. It was huge for just the two of them, with a sizable clearing ringing the building. Swathes of land on the side were occupied with gardens, rows studded with crops of all sizes and shapes. 

It was also distinctly in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. Nowhere to run to, even if he got a chance. 

“Well,” Fletcher said lightly, pushing the gear shift into park. 

“Welcome home.”

~

“Alright, here’s the tour,” Fletcher said as they led Tommy inside. They left his wrists cuffed and guided him with a hand cupped around his elbow.

“This is the common area - living room, whatever you want to call it. TV, movies, books.” They pointed at the shelves as they spoke. “You’re allowed in here. This is the kitchen, help yourself to pretty much whatever. Some stuff will have people’s names on them, obviously don’t eat those. The rest is fair game. Just use common sense. If I meal prep I will let you know.”

“Wait, wh-” Tommy didn’t get his question out before Fletcher pulled him along.

“This is gonna be your room.” They opened a wooden door into a small room, sparsely furnished with a twin bed, bedside table, and dresser. An old lamp sat crooked on the table, and an odd extra chair sat beside the dresser. 

What struck Tommy the most was the window. A big, beautiful window looking out on the grounds, filling the room with sunlight. It was a far cry from his basement cell for that alone. Graying blinds were cinched up to the top of the window frame, and he couldn’t imagine wanting them closed. His eyes welled, but he had only a moment to look before Fletcher was dragging him off again.

“We’ll come back around.”

They led him down the hall. “Bathroom is here. There are three trainees living here right now.” 

Oh. The students. Tommy hadn’t realized they would be living here, too. The pit of anxiety in his stomach ached, a stark reminder of the danger he’d almost forgotten for one brief moment. 

Fletcher pointed at a set of closed doors. “Trainee room, trainee room, trainee room. Don’t go in there. That at the end is my room. Do not go in there. Upstairs is another bedroom and my office. No reason to go up there. Definitely don’t fucking go in my office. This door leads to the basement. It’s storage and, uh… miscellaneous.”

Fletcher led him back to the living room and pulled a box off the shelf. They popped the lid and dug around inside, withdrawing their hand victoriously clutching a sturdy-looking strap. A small black device was mounted on it, decorated with a blinking green light the size of a pin.

“Here, take a seat buh- bud.” A look of irritation crossed their face when they stumbled, but it passed just as quickly. 

Tommy sat cautiously on the couch, and Fletcher sat beside him. 

“Give me your leg.”

Tommy was hesitant, but with an impatient look from Fletcher, he twisted to reluctantly lay a leg across their lap. Fletcher pulled up his pant leg, bunching the fabric up around his calf before wrapping the band around his ankle. Tommy got a sinking feeling. Fletcher seemed less strict, but then immediately went for overkill. He already had the implanted tracker and the collar - how much more did they need?

With a jarring pull, Fletcher tightened it, a quick clickclickclickclickclick telling Tommy it was locking into place with the adjustment. They gave it a few hard pulls, satisfied when it didn’t budge. 

“Alright now, that’s going to stay on. If you try to mess with it, it’ll send an alert to my phone, and I’ll make sure you can’t run the old fashioned way.” Fletcher gave him a wolfish grin, and Tommy instinctively shrank away. They pushed his leg off and stood, beckoning him up and replacing their grip on his arm. 

“Shall we?”

Fletcher led him past the kitchen and through a glass door that opened out behind the house. They went through a gate in the chicken-wire perimeter around their farming plot. 

“This is the garden. We’re going to be spending a lot of time here. I try to guild it so it’s more self-sustaining, but it still requires tending and harvesting. Here we got onions, that patch is potatoes, the sisters are over there…”

“The sisters?” Tommy repeated, looking around.

“Corn, beans, and squash. Let’s see, we got lettuce here, sunchoke, tomatoes, carrots, peas. These are stinging nettles, so don’t touch them without gloves, but they have a lot of uses. The greenhouse is mostly herbs - I make tea blends. And squash growing on the ceiling. Also have backup crops of some of these, in case animals get at them too much. The shed has got normal shed stuff. Tools, mulch, firewood, snowblower, shit like that. Uh, don’t go in there either.”

“Wh-why?”

“Because I have axes and shit in there. Let’s go.”

Fletcher led Tommy across the clearing. They made it a few feet past the first trees when a loud beeping began emanating from Fletcher’s pocket. They stopped and pulled out their phone, holding it up to show Tommy before clearing the alarm. 

“You cross the treeline,” they pointed at the monitor around his ankle. “That thing will let me know. It has GPS, so I’ll know exactly where you are. And that’s just a redundancy, because your last owners gave me access to your tracking chip.”

Tommy’s stomach twisted, the familiar feeling of being trapped anchoring him again. 

“Okay. I understand.”

Fletcher led him back towards the house. “You have until the treeline.”

“Wait, wait,” Tommy slowed his steps, causing Fletcher to stop and look at him. “You mean I can walk out of the house and go all the way to the trees?”

“Yes, that was the perimeter,” Fletcher said. “I set it at the edge of the clearing all the way around. Just don’t go into the woods.”

“But I can… leave the house?” Tommy asked in disbelief. Even as he said it, it felt foolish. He must not be understanding. “Like, you’re making it sound like I can just… walk out and wander around outside.”

“Yeah. Until the treeline,” Fletcher repeated.

Tommy was speechless. Fletcher continued to lead him back inside, taking him to his room.

“That was the lodge in brief, any questions so far?”

“Um, yeah, I mean… I have a few, if that’s okay. I just - I just want to be able to… do a good job here…”

“Okay.”

“Um… the kitchen.”

“Yep.”

“You said I can help myself to food.”

“I did.” A pause. “Is there a question?”

“I guess… not?” Tommy said. “I just, um… like, how much… can I eat, I guess?”

Fletcher shrugged. “Eat when you’re hungry, stop when you’re full. I think you can handle that.”

It felt like a trap.

“And I can eat… is there like, going to be certain foods set aside that I’m allowed to have?”

“Mm, not really. If I do a big batch of food I might set some aside for you but for the most part, no.”

“So how do I…”

“If it looks like it belongs to someone - like, has someone’s name or is clearly someone’s leftovers - don’t eat it,” Fletcher said. “If it is regular, unclaimed food, go ahead. Just use common sense.”

Common sense hadn’t been a factor in Tommy’s decision making very much in the last several years. It was more dominated by anticipating and heeding the whims of whichever unreasonable freaks he was with at the moment.

But, there was nothing else to be said on that subject. He moved on to the next.

“You said I couldn’t go in your or the trainee’s rooms.”

“Correct.”

“How am I going to clean them?”

Fletcher furrowed their brows at him. “Clean them?”

“Well, yeah… I figured… I would be cleaning the house, right?”

“I mean, yeah, probably,” Fletcher conceded. “But they’re adults, they can clean up their own space. No one wants you poking around their stuff. And you’re definitely not allowed in my room. Or my office.”

Tommy nodded. “Understood.”

“Anything else?”

“Umm… I guess… not?” He had a thousand questions, but he didn’t want to risk pestering Fletcher too much right off the bat.”

“Okay. Great.” Fletcher paced slightly before stopping in front of Tommy again. “Here’s the thing. I want you to change your name.”

“Oh. Okay.” Made sense. New owner, new identity they would ascribe to him.

“Doesn’t matter what. Probably. Just… something else.”

“Okay.” 

They both waited.

“You don’t have to pick right now, I guess…” Fletcher began.

Tommy raised his eyebrows.

“Oh - I’m picking?”

“Yeah, dude.”

“Wh… well, what do you want to call me?”

“I don’t… really care, dude. You want to go by Davy again?”

Tommy felt a strange jolt at hearing his old name. An immediate tension in his body, accelerated heartbeat like it was a sign of danger.

Not to mention, Davy was long since dead. He was killed to make room for Tommy.

“Not… really,” he said sheepishly, drawing in on himself, afraid to give the wrong answer.

“What about James? A lot of people go by their last name here.”

Tommy put his head down, running his hands back and forth through his hair. Of course Fletcher knew his full legal name. It was just strange to hear it said back to him after so many years.

“Um… I don’t know…”

“Well, think about it,” Fletcher said. “It can be a nickname, I don’t care. Just something.”

Being Tommy felt right, felt natural in his role now. He’d gotten used to it. Tommy obeys, Tommy serves, Tommy gets punished. Tommy is owned by - Fletcher, now. It was an odd thought.

“Well, I’ll let you settle in here,” Fletcher said. “You can take it easy and adjust for the first day.”

They headed toward the door.

“W-Wait,” Tommy called after them.

Fletcher stopped and turned back.

“What about… what are my rules?” Tommy asked. Maybe he should’ve asked when Fletcher allowed him questions, but he had just assumed Fletcher would tell him on their own and he didn’t want to push them. But without Fletcher laying out his rules for him, how would he know how to navigate his existence here? How would he know how to avoid getting in trouble?

“Okay, yeah, um,” Fletcher clapped their hands together. “Mostly, just do what I tell you, when I tell you. Stay out of the places I told you to stay out of. Know your place. Obviously don’t touch any weapons - common sense stuff. Mostly just comes down to following orders.”

Tommy nodded. “Yes, Fletcher. Err…do you have a title you want me to call you?”

“Nah, just my name,” Fletcher said. “I mean, I don’t care if you call me ‘boss’ or whatever, like that, just don’t call me ‘master’ ‘cause that shit’s cringe. No sir or ma’am shit either. Got it?”

“Yes, Fletcher.”

Even though Tommy felt like he should be keeping rapt attention on Fletcher, he couldn’t keep his eyes from continuing to drift to the window. They got stuck there, watching the clouds drift across the sky, the grass and branches bow in the breeze.

“What?” Fletcher prodded. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

“Oh, no, sorry,” Tommy said, looking back at them. “I just, um, haven’t had a window in a while.”

Fletcher stared at him for a beat. “What?”

“I was in the basement…” Tommy didn’t want to get into it any further than that.

“...Jesus. Okay, well, I’ll leave you to acclimate. Did you eat today?”

Tommy shook his head. He hadn’t been focused on his hunger, but once it had been pointed out, he could feel it stabbing at him from the inside.

“You should probably do that.” Fletcher slipped through the door, adding before they pulled it closed behind them, “You know where the kitchen is.”

@suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday

@defire @jumpywhumpywriter @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @paperprinxe @desert-dyke

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @whatwasmyprevioususername @cursedandtired

@whump-only @misspelledwitch @redstainedsocks @thehopelessopus @im-just-here-for-the-whump

@thatsthewhump @utopian819 @pretty-face-breaker @thesuffererrrr

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

Mame Novels Available in English (Official Translations)

Amazon Kindle

Love Storm (Part 1 of Love in the Air)

When ‘Rain’ starts to sincerely appreciate a senior for his kindness, fate lets him see the other side of that senior that no one else has ever seen. Finally, Rain declares war. “You’ve been nice to everyone but me! I’ll reveal your true colors to everyone!” However, as strange as it seems, the more he resists, the more he impresses his foe. The farther he runs away, the faster the foe chases after him. Rain desperately tries to figure out the way to win over this mischievous senior. Or, perhaps, he has been defeated since the first day they met?

Love Sky (Part 2 of Love in the Air)

The intensified situation got ‘Sky’ cornered and forced him to get laid in order to get out. Sky tries to make up his mind, thinking of it as just a one night stand and no string attached. However, what he doesn’t know is that ‘Phraphai’ won’t give up so easily. Sky almost opens up his heart for this clingy, flirty, shameless, narcissistic, and deceitful man, but the scar from the past still haunts him. Moreover, that raunchy egotist never leaves him alone! Sky keeps wondering when the sun will shine for him.

TharnType*

It's listed as a Mame novel, but the translation seems more like someone trying to pass off a machine translated PDF, so I have reservations about the legitimacy of it.

Type is a dark, tall and handsome freshman. Although he's a warm boy, he is homophobic because he was molested by a man as a child. His life turns upside down when the new year of college brings along a very interesting person in his life — a gay roommate, Tharn. Tharn is a very handsome music major with fair skin and mixed features. He is also openly gay. With a gay guy and a guy who hates gay men that have to share a small space together for the rest of the year — what can possibly be the outcome of their story? Hatred? Or maybe love?

Meb Website and App

** They have all novels listed above, PLUS

Boy Next World

Would you believe it if someone knocked on your door and said they were your lover from a parallel world? Phukan had never experienced romantic relationships or love before. But one day, an attractive senior from his university showed up and said they were dating in a parallel world. The guy was Cirrus, the aloof but handsome senior known since high school as "The Ice Prince". Although they never spoke before, the senior said, "You're my whole world, Phu." What should Phukan do between trying to send Cirrus back to his world or keeping him here? Because no matter which world they're in... Every Phukan will eventually fall in love with Cirrus.

Love Sand

Khom, a 19 year-old boy who lives on the island of Pangan, has to fill in as a guide for his friend Mahasamut, as the guy got his leg broken. That's when Khom meets Connor, a handsome tourist with blonde hair and green eyes that intimidate Khom the moment he sees them. Throughout these days as a guide, Khom tries his best not to fall for Connor. However, it isn't so easy, because this Canadian is wickedly charming and tempts him constantly. When it's too hard to resist, Khom finally gives in to his desire and tastes the man's touch. But Khom never thought his decision would lead to risking his bruised heart on a relationship that doesn't end after only three days and two nights. And Connor never thought this boy would make the heart of a player tremble and change forever.

Love Sea

Tongrak is a hot writer who is seeking ideas to finish his novel, set amidst the beautiful sea. Mahasamut is a dark, handsome man tasked by his friends Connor and Khom with taking care of Tongrak while he is on the island. But why is this man both infuriating and captivating? His charm is so potent that the writer is drawn to explore this new kind of partner. Deciding he likes the taste of Mahasamut, Tongrak brings the "Island's Treasure" back to Bangkok with him under a contract stating their relationship is physical only. However, the writer's heart starts to crave more. Tongrak isn't sure if this is the dreaded "love" that destroyed his family's relationships, or just physical attraction.

How to Secretly Lure My Boy's Heart

When Kengkla announces that hte wait is finally over, it's time to "lure" Techno, his best friend's brother, to be his boyfriend.

[drowsystarlight]

Something’s changed

I know why, I don’t know when, I know it was me

I don’t know you anymore but I know you enough to know that

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

RiAAU Sasha's complicated relationship with her adoptive parents, Percy and Braddock, stems from an awkward mixture of unconditional love, resentment over their inability to protect her from Grime in her childhood, and their fear of what she's become.

[lilgynt]

my mom found the thing that started the fight that got me kicked out. so i was right. in my fantasies this happens and it’s great in real life im gonna jump her

[buttercupshands]

Honestly I think the saddest thing in bnha is that we don't really know when does canon diverge from our time. Like...

What if it was when people were waiting for a game to come out and then it didn't since quirks were more important and then in was more important to promote heroes

There's definitely some games that survive that we know it from LoL reference from Tomura, but what about other games?

Maybe indie games are the ones trying to be "like in the old times" before quirks exist, but then authors get canceled for making a person use abilities that look like usual quirks while the protagonist doesn't have any and that's bad since players can't associate themselves with the main character

Because yeah they clearly don't have quirkless people anymore

I'm really curious what is considered old in this manga in terms of games. Like afo and Yoichi clearly had some 60-70s style comics, soo?

[fingertipsmp3]

Last night’s dream was the first one I’ve had in a long time where I wanted to fall back asleep and stay in it/experience it again

[ozlices]

as a person w so goddamn much medical trauma the thought of having to go through the process to find a new doctor that is not just simply compatible w me, but who is also, like. u know. an actually nice, understanding person who will put genuine effort into taking proper care of me is so taxing. like i wish it was a simpler process, but it's not. bc i gotta deal w the very real possibility that by having to go through this process, my medical trauma will be worsened even further. & it is already bad enough that i have panic attacks every time i have to go to any sort of medical facility.

im literally so fucking furious over how much this happens. & that there's no fucking consequence for doing it to a Human Being. for tossing a Human Being that needs medical care aside like a piece of fucking trash. the american healthcare system is such a stupid fucking joke.