#trash ass man hope he ends up unhappy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

annkous · 2 years ago

Text

It's time for LESSON 13!! AAAAAAAAAA

A bit of calm before another storm that's coming our way, but that's just another day in the life of MC I suppose lmao. I appreciate the break though, the last lessons were ruthless.

Lesson 12 feels!

The first thing they do is grab the theory going around of Michael being Nightbringer and unceremoniously slam dunk it into the trash can right in front of us.

Well. Screw you too.

Well, at least now we know Michael also knows about the time travel thing. Which is good to have confirmed. I don't want to say where the Celestial Realm can stick their tolerance, though. I still don't like them lol

Anyways the brothers are relieved and happy (even Belphie!! We still need to talk tho) we're awake and we get to say good morning to all of them. I found it incredibly sweet. They have many questions, but they decide to let us rest. Solomon asks us where we decide to stay: Cocytus Hall or in the guest room in the House of Lamentation.

I chose to stay in our old room. I assume if you go to Cocytus Hall you have a moment with Solomon, but I haven't chosen that one yet. If you stay in the House of Lamentation though, they'll squeeze your heart being adorable because every fucker in this house has camped out and is sleeping outside our room.

This is the cutest shit I've ever seen. I love all of them oh my god.

But we can't run away from the questions forever and the next day we meet up with Diavolo because it's our Questioning Day. We get a sweet moment first though where we learn that the previous night we somehow carried all the brothers into our room lmfao.

My important take from this is that Satan let us drag him into our room without kicking up a fuss and even pretended he was still asleep. I love him.

During the questions I was sweating bullets because Solomon did warn us that we shouldn't say we're from the future. They do give us an option to tell it though, but I decided to dodge that bullet in particular and instead be honest about the Ring of Light instead of keeping quiet. We're still pretty vague answering, but it's better than nothing. I have a feeling they'd think we're making fun of them if we say we're from the future anyways.

Diavolo's main concern is if we're even safe for the Devildom (holy shit), but the brothers try to persuade him by comparing our situation to theirs when Diavolo let them into the Devildom. However, as we know, the price to stay in the Devildom wasn't a cheap one and he calls Lucifer out for bringing it up.

None of the brothers know more beyond of Lucifer pledging loyalty to Diavolo so they drop the issue here. I have hope that maybe in this timeline they will find out about everything Lucifer gave up in order to keep Lilith and his brothers safe. Shit will go down, obviously, but it's a hurdle they have to jump through o(-<

Barbatos asks for a break since things are getting heated up. Diavolo takes his leave to calm down, and we're given the option to follow him immediately or take a little walk. I chose to take a walk and got points with Barb, so I thought we were going to leave Diavolo breathe in peace, but we end up catching up with Diavolo anyways lol

Diavolo feels bad we're worried about him and yet he's trying to give us the boot from the Devildom. This man is so conflicted and needs a break (so do we but, rip), and then someone I wasn't expecting decides to pop in after Barbatos:

MEPHISTO!!

Of course lmao PLEASE GIVE THEM CASUAL CLOTHES OR A DIFFERENT FORM SOLMARE P L E A S E

We learn a little more about the House of Lords in the Devildom, who are very unhappy about Beelzebub's rampage on the Demon Lord's Castle (oh man and we still haven't solved the why of Beel going berserk either.....) and are outright asking for his banishment, according to Mephisto. Then he decides to be an ass and talk bad about the brothers, but Diavolo politely cuts him off and walks away before Mephisto can finish lol.

We get a short one-on-one with Mephisto, who thinks we're a lesser demon and I've never once in my life since I met him have wanted to grab his cane and hit him over the head with it, but there's a first time for everything and my first time was in this Lesson.

So that's how it is huh

So once again our "verdict" gets postponed (I have a feeling it's gonna be a running thing for a bit) because of the House of Lords' demands, which apparently are worse than Mephisto let on. They basically say Beelzebub's rampage equals a declaration of war and are holding Diavolo accountable. Diavolo must go through a set of trials that test his ability to rule (and if he refuses apparently he gives up the claim to the throne, so it's a Big Thing), and if we know how Obey Me! works, we know we're gonna be the ones helping him out and that's probably how we'll win points in our favour to stay here. And that's if it doesn't end up being the whole reason for Diavolo to say "they're styaing here, and that's the end of it" since we basically help him keep his claim as future Demon King with that and that's a show of loyalty if I've ever seen any lol

However he needs his father to tell him about the trials, as it's some sort of tradition they pass down from ruler to the next one to be, but we know the King is indisposed. So does the House of Lords, so this demand is one hell of a low blow to Diavolo, but he plans on going all out on it anyways.

And as soon as he says this, the trial starts. Literally. Diavolo gets teleported away in a flash of light and there's that.

I called it lol.

It looks like it's Diavolo bonding time. He's nervous but keeping a front, and we can call him out on it, and also either take his hand, give him a pat or my favourite option in this game: give him a hug.

He calls us out again, just like both him and Barbatos did in the classroom, about how we're trying to help and being nice to them despite Diavolo trying to get us out of the Devildom. You can tell he's struggling about the whole thing. I think he wants to trust us, but we're too powerful and if we decided to turn against the Devildom, there would be big trouble. He says the possibility of us turning himself, and seeing how Lesson 11 went.......... well, it's obvious we don't want to turn against anyone. But they need a bit more of strong convincing.

The lesson ends with poor Diavolo asking why are we showing any kindness towards him or caring at all. I found it a bit sad for him, honestly. Looks like Lesson 14 will be going through the Kingsblood Crucible with Diavolo, and maybe persuade him we'd never turn against them.

The extra lesson is hilarious. I thought it was gonna be about the brothers and Barbatos after Diavolo and MC got magically whisked away for the trial, but it's instead Mephisto looking for Diavolo to give him the House of Lords' letter and running into the brothers, who are debating about what MC truly wants and if we feel obligated to stay with them after all. I wanted to give them an earful lol

They get into a fight because they get tired quickly of Mephisto provoking them, obviously. I loved the shit out of it, because he started bothering Lucifer about how he's "showing off" his wings and the brothers jumped to defend Lucifer instantly in their own way lol

LMFAO LUCI, LANGUAGE

God I love you Mammon GET HIM BABY!!

Yet another point in the "Mammon adores his older brother Lucifer over everything else". Everyone else too, but for me Mammon here dealt the strongest blow to Mephisto so he'd fuck off and leave them and Lucifer alone. Which he does after Barbatos appears to escort him away lol

That extra scene was really nice. Feels good to finish a Lesson with no strong cliffhanger, but I'm very curious about the trial, and maybe Diavolo will tell us a bit more about the Demon King. He tells us a bit in the Lesson, but it's just that he got mad at Diavolo when he tried to get the God of War's sword (who's entombed in the Mausoleum where MC is with Diavolo atm) when he was smaller. So far he seems to speak fondly of his dad, unless I'm forgetting any more details they have in the og story.

Well, there's that. Most important thing I took from here is that Michael is not Nightbringer, unless he's playing with us for some reason, but I can't think of why he'd do that. He seems to still care a bit about his brothers, and he's saved us twice and keeps an eye on us. I side-eye this guy a lot, but if his caring about his brothers is genuine I suppose I can just. Leave him be and just let him watch.

I'm still not over his quote in the new Nightmare Grimoire. There's more to him with us, but Solmare won't give us Michael crumbs yet. I hope they release his design soon because I'm DYING to see him and he's getting more and more involved with the story aaaaaaAAAA please give him long hair.

I still have to get hard mode, but I'm saving AP to try and get the costumes in Box 3... And my rng is terrible. I don't wanna use 240 hard-won points to buy Luci's and Satan's clothes, I'd rather save them for the level up offers, but I will if I'm unlucky in the boxes I guess o(-< well, good luck with your own boxes if you're hunting for them as well!

Edit: LESSONS 14-19!!

#Anne plays Obey Me! Nightbringer #Nightbringer spoilers #PHEW I'M DONE AAAAAAAAA I LOVE THEM SO MUCH #this format of a lesson every 10 days is killing me #obey me! nightbringer #obey me!

11 notes · View notes

hellsbellschime · 3 years ago

Text

@arts-of-our-titans said: saying that the cities she came to were completely trashed is not a statement in support of slavery. but implying that the state of slavers bay before dany was in anyway “peaceful” or “green” is. you clearly do not understand the weight of what a slave state means, for you to make that comparison. as for dany owning slaves. stop talking out of your ass. dany does not have any slaves. you are creating scenarios in your head, literally.

please mention one instance where dany “makes” anyone fight for her. list one instance in the books where it seems her so called soldiers are there involuntarily. also mention one lord in westeros who pays his soldiers anything, but food and shelter. i’ll wait. how about you stop blaming the faults of the world george built on dany

also i would love to remind you that we are actually told that many unsullied pay whores to embrace them. if it such a common practice, why was there no question as to where these unsullied were getting the money?

and last but not least, everyone in essos knows the state of slavers bay. and yet other slaves are still hoping for dany… why? because suffering bc you fight to be free is better than suffering as someone’s property. and history has shown that. so yes, i do find your idea of slavers bay very disturbing

You know what, instead of arguing, I'mma just leave these book quotes right here. Also, not even kidding, there were so many book quotes to back up Dany's fake anti-slavery that I had to give up, these were just the ones that jumped out at me the most.

Here's some fun quotes where a fuckton of people around Dany seem to be under the impression that she has slaves, which is pretty weird if she's not treating her "servants" like slaves:

Dany stepped away from her. "No. Irri, you do not need to do that. What happened that night, when you woke . . . you're no bed slave, I freed you, remember? You . . ."

"I am handmaid to the Mother of Dragons," the girl said. "It is great honor to please my khaleesi." - Daenerys II, ASOS

Ser Jorah looked unhappy. "We'll starve long before they do, Your Grace. There's no food here, nor fodder for our mules and horses. I do not like this river water either. Meereen shits into the Skahazadhan but draws its drinking water from deep wells. Already we've had reports of sickness in the camps, fever and brownleg and three cases of the bloody flux. There will be more if we remain. The slaves are weak from the march."

"Freedmen," Dany corrected. "They are slaves no longer." - Daenerys V, ASOS

"Your slave Missandei." Jhiqui had a taper in her hand.

"My servant. I have no slaves." Dany did not understand. "Why does she weep?" - Daenerys II, ADWD

"Not a hole. A ditch, to bring water from the river to the fields. We mean to plant beans. The beanfields must have water."

"How kind of my old friend to help with the digging. And how very unlike him. Is it possible he was given no choice in the matter? No, surely not. You have no slaves in Meereen."

Dany flushed. "Your friend is being paid with food and shelter. I cannot give him back his wealth. Meereen needs beans more than it needs rare spices, and beans require water." - Daenerys III, ADWD

"Can you?" the Green Grace asked. "A king is not a god, but there is still much that a strong man might do. When my people look at you, they see a conqueror from across the seas, come to murder us and make slaves of our children. A king could change that. A highborn king of pure Ghiscari blood could reconcile the city to your rule. Elsewise, I fear, your reign must end as it began, in blood and fire." - Daenerys IV, ADWD

Oh look, and here's some quotes implying that Daenerys pillaged these cities and left them an absolute fucking wreck:

I have given Astapor a butcher king. Dany felt ill, but she knew she must not let the envoy see it. "I will pray that King Cleon rules well and wisely. What would he have of me?" - Daenerys VI, ASOS

All my victories turn to dross in my hands, she thought. Whatever I do, all I make is death and horror. When word of what had befallen Astapor reached the streets, as it surely would, tens of thousands of newly freed Meereenese slaves would doubtless decide to follow her when she went west, for fear of what awaited them if they stayed . . . yet it might well be that worse would await them on the march. Even if she emptied every granary in the city and left Meereen to starve, how could she feed so many?" Daenerys VI, ASOS

That proved to be a forlorn hope. The master of the Indigo Star was Qartheen, so he wept copiously when asked about Astapor. "The city bleeds. Dead men rot unburied in the streets, each pyramid is an armed camp, and the markets have neither food nor slaves for sale. And the poor children! King Cleaver's thugs have seized every highborn boy in Astapor to make new Unsullied for the trade, though it will be years before they are trained." - Daenerys VI, ASOS

Dany turned away from them, to gaze out over the city once again. "My children need time to heal and learn. My dragons need time to grow and test their wings. And I need the same. I will not let this city go the way of Astapor. I will not let the harpy of Yunkai chain up those I've freed all over again." She turned back to look at their faces. "I will not march." - Daenerys VI, ASOS

Her dragons had roared as one in that moment, filling the night with flame. The slaves are rising, she knew at once. My sewer rats have gnawed off their chains.

When the last resistance had been crushed by the Unsullied and the sack had run its course, Dany entered her city. The dead were heaped so high before the broken gate that it took her freedmen near an hour to make a path for her silver. Joso's Cock and the great wooden turtle that had protected it, covered with horsehides, lay abandoned within. She rode past burned buildings and broken windows, through brick streets where the gutters were choked with the stiff and swollen dead. Cheering slaves lifted bloodstained hands to her as she went by, and called her "Mother." - Daenerys VI, ASOS

Cleon the self-styled Great was no better, however. The Butcher King had restored slavery to Astapor, the only change being that the former slaves were now the masters and the former masters were now the slaves. - Daenerys I, ADWD

"I am only a young girl and know little of the ways of war," she told Lord Ghael, "but we have heard that Astapor is starving. Let King Cleon feed his people before he leads them out to battle." She made a gesture of dismissal. Ghael withdrew. - Daenerys I, ADWD

Many and more of the matters brought before her involved redress. Meereen had been sacked savagely after its fall. The stepped pyramids of the mighty had been spared the worst of the ravages, but the humbler parts of the city had been given over to an orgy of looting and killing as the city's slaves rose up and the starving hordes who had followed her from Yunkai and Astapor poured through the broken gates. Her Unsullied had finally restored order, but the sack left a plague of problems in its wake. And so they came to see the queen. - Daenerys I, ADWD

Xaro took no notice of the sally. "Daenerys, let me be honest with you, as befits a friend. You will not make Meereen rich and fat and peaceful. You will only bring it to destruction, as you did Astapor. - Daenerys III, ADWD

"None. I no longer lust for dragons. I saw their work at Astapor on my way here, when my Silken Cloud put in for water." - Daenerys III, ADWD

"I will not abandon Meereen to the fate of Astapor. It grieves me to say so, but Westeros must wait." - Daenerys III, ADWD

Frog would be glad to put Astapor behind him. The Red City was the closest thing to hell he ever hoped to know. The Yunkai'i had sealed the broken gates to keep the dead and dying inside the city, but the sights that he had seen riding down those red brick streets would haunt Quentyn Martell forever. A river choked with corpses. The priestess in her torn robes, impaled upon a stake and attended by a cloud of glistening green flies. Dying men staggering through the streets, bloody and befouled. Children fighting over half-cooked puppies. The last free king of Astapor, screaming naked in the pit as he was set on by a score of starving dogs. And fires, fires everywhere. He could close his eyes and see them still: flames whirling from brick pyramids larger than any castle he had ever seen, plumes of greasy smoke coiling upward like great black snakes.

When the wind blew from the south, the air smelled of smoke even here, three miles from the city. Behind its crumbling red brick walls, Astapor was still asmolder, though by now most of the great fires had burned out. Ashes floated lazy on the breeze like fat grey snowflakes. It would be good to go. - The Windblown ADWD

Dead Cleon's fall wrote an end to that. The new Unsullied threw down their spears and shields and ran, only to find the gates of Astapor shut behind them. Frog had done his part in the slaughter that followed, riding down the frightened eunuchs with the other Windblown. Hard by the big man's hip he rode, slashing right and left as their wedge went through the Unsullied like a spearpoint. When they burst through on the other side, the Tattered Prince had wheeled them round and led them through again. It was only coming back that Frog got a good look at the faces beneath the spiked bronze caps and realized that most were no older than he. Green boys screaming for their mothers, he'd thought, but he killed them all the same. By the time he'd left the field, his sword was running red with blood and his arm was so tired he could hardly lift it. - The Windblown, ADWD

It was the Tattered Prince himself who did the speaking. "Orders have come down from Yurkhaz," he said. "What Astapori still survive have come creeping from their hidey-holes, it seems. There's nothing left in Astapor but corpses, so they're pouring out into the countryside, hundreds of them, maybe thousands, all starved and sick. The Yunkai'i don't want them near their Yellow City. We've been commanded to hunt them down and turn them, drive them back to Astapor or north to Meereen. If the dragon queen wants to take them in, she's welcome to them. Half of them have the bloody flux, and even the healthy ones are mouths to feed." - The Windblown, ADWD

"Astapor, Your Radiance," said another of the Blue Graces. "He said it, once. He said 'Astapor is burning.' " - Daenerys V, ADWD

Brown Ben Plumm was puzzled. "Who is Eroeh?"

"A girl I thought I'd saved from rape and torment. All I did was make it worse for her in the end. And all I did in Astapor was make ten thousand Eroehs." - Daenerys V, ADWD

Beneath her veils, the Green Grace sighed. "The peace that we worked so hard to forge flutters like a leaf in an autumn wind. These are dire days. Death stalks our streets, riding the pale mare from thrice-cursed Astapor. Dragons haunt the skies, feasting on the flesh of children. Hundreds are taking ship, sailing for Yunkai, for Tolos, for Qarth, for any refuge that will have them. The pyramid of Hazkar has collapsed into a smoking ruin, and many of that ancient line lie dead beneath its blackened stones. The pyramids of Uhlez and Yherizan have become the lairs of monsters, their masters homeless beggars. My people have lost all hope and turned against the gods themselves, giving over their nights to drunkenness and fornication." - The Queen's Hand, ADWD

Also you asked how the Unsullied would pay for prostitutes if they were unpaid and if Daenerys is letting freed slaves take a handful of shit and leaving the rest of an entire city to plunder herself, I have a general idea of where they may have gotten the money:

"I have a gift for you as well." She slammed the chest shut. "Three days. On the morning of the third day, send out your slaves. All of them. Every man, woman, and child shall be given a weapon, and as much food, clothing, coin, and goods as he or she can carry. These they shall be allowed to choose freely from among their masters' possessions, as payment for their years of servitude. When all the slaves have departed, you will open your gates and allow my Unsullied to enter and search your city, to make certain none remain in bondage. If you do this, Yunkai will not be burned or plundered, and none of your people shall be molested. The Wise Masters will have the peace they desire, and will have proved themselves wise indeed. What say you?" - Daenerys IV, ASOS

And some quotes about people being enslaved in Dany's territory for good measure:

His new Unsullied are an obscene jape. "King Cleon would be wise to tend his own gardens and let the Yunkai'i tend theirs." It was not that Dany harbored any love for Yunkai. She was coming to regret leaving the Yellow City untaken after defeating its army in the field. The Wise Masters had returned to slaving as soon as she moved on, and were busy raising levies, hiring sellswords, and making alliances against her.

"We fought the Unsullied at Astapor," the big man said.

"I said real Unsullied. Hacking off some boy's stones with a butcher's cleaver and handing him a pointy hat don't make him Unsullied. That dragon queen's got the real item, the kind that don't break and run when you fart in their general direction." - The Windblown, ADWD

Dany not caring who is a slaver or slave and doing whatever is more beneficial for her, doesn't seem like doing what's just matters more than getting what she needs:

"Very well," Dany said. "Sellsword or slave, spare all those who will pledge me their faith. If enough of the Second Sons will join us, keep the company intact." - Daenerys IV, ASOS

Reznak would have summoned another tokar next, but Dany insisted that he call upon a freedman. Thereafter she alternated between the former masters and the former slaves. - Daenerys I, ADWD

A former slave came, to accuse a certain noble of the Zhak. The man had recently taken to wife a freedwoman who had been the noble's bedwarmer before the city fell. The noble had taken her maidenhood, used her for his pleasure, and gotten her with child. Her new husband wanted the noble gelded for the crime of rape, and he wanted a purse of gold as well, to pay him for raising the noble's bastard as his own. Dany granted him the gold, but not the gelding. "When he lay with her, your wife was his property, to do with as he would. By law, there was no rape." Her decision did not please him, she could see, but if she gelded every man who ever forced a bedslave, she would soon rule a city of eunuchs. - Daenerys I, ADWD

And finally, some quotes of Daenerys directly permitting, attempting to take advantage of, if not outright benefiting off of slavery herself (or using her anti-slavery quest as a means of acquiring people to act as slaves for her in all but name):

There is wisdom in this, yes, Dany thought, but . . . "How am I to buy a thousand slave soldiers? All I have of value is the crown the Tourmaline Brotherhood gave me." - Daenerys I, ASOS

"They would kill him out of hand and bring her his head, tell her that," the slaver answered. "Other slaves may steal and hoard up silver in hopes of buying freedom, but an Unsullied would not take it if the little mare offered it as a gift. They have no life outside their duty. They are soldiers, and that is all."

"It is soldiers I need," Dany admitted. - Daenerys II, ASOS

"My queen," said Arstan, "there have been no slaves in the Seven Kingdoms for thousands of years. The old gods and the new alike hold slavery to be an abomination. Evil. If you should land in Westeros at the head of a slave army, many good men will oppose you for no other reason than that. You will do great harm to your cause, and to the honor of your House."

"Yet I must have some army," Dany said. "The boy Joffrey will not give me the Iron Throne for asking politely." - Daenerys II, ASOS

"Missandei is no longer a slave. I free you, from this instant. Come ride with me in the litter, I wish to talk." Rakharo helped them in, and Dany drew the curtains shut against the dust and heat. "If you stay with me you will serve as one of my handmaids," she said as they set off. "I shall keep you by my side to speak for me as you spoke for Kraznys. But you may leave my service whenever you choose, if you have father or mother you would sooner return to."

"This one will stay," the girl said. "This one . . . I . . . there is no place for me to go. This . . . I will serve you, gladly." - Daenerys III, ASOS

"If battle is joined, let Grey Worm show wisdom as well as valor," Dany told him. "Spare any slave who runs or throws down his weapon. The fewer slain, the more remain to join us after." - Daenerys VI, ASOS

"My queen?" Daario stepped forward. "The riverside is full of Meereenese, begging leave to be allowed to sell themselves to this Qartheen. They are thicker than the flies."

Dany was shocked. "They want to be slaves?"

"The ones who come are well spoken and gently born, sweet queen. Such slaves are prized. In the Free Cities they will be tutors, scribes, bed slaves, even healers and priests. They will sleep in soft beds, eat rich foods, and dwell in manses. Here they have lost all, and live in fear and squalor."

"I see." Perhaps it was not so shocking, if these tales of Astapor were true. Dany thought a moment. "Any man who wishes to sell himself into slavery may do so. Or woman." She raised a hand. "But they may not sell their children, nor a man his wife."

"In Astapor the city took a tenth part of the price, each time a slave changed hands," Missandei told her.

"We'll do the same," Dany decided. Wars were won with gold as much as swords. "A tenth part. In gold or silver coin, or ivory. Meereen has no need of saffron, cloves, or zorse hides." - Daenerys VI, ASOS

They had freed their slaves, yes … only to hire them back as servants at wages so meagre that most could scarce afford to eat. Those too old or young to be of use had been cast into the streets, along with the infirm and the crippled. And still the Great Masters gathered atop their lofty pyramids to complain of how the dragon queen had filled their noble city with hordes of unwashed beggars, thieves, and whores. - Daenerys I, ADWD

"A poor city that once was rich. A hungry city that once was fat. A bloody city that once was peaceful."

His accusations stung. There was too much truth in them. "Meereen will be rich and fat and peaceful once again, and free as well. Go to the Dothraki if you must have slaves." - Daenerys III, ADWD

"The Yunkai'i will resume slaving, as before. Astapor will be rebuilt, as a slave city. You will not interfere."

"The Yunkai'i resumed their slaving before I was two leagues from their city. Did I turn back? King Cleon begged me to join with him against them, and I turned a deaf ear to his pleas. I want no war with Yunkai. How many times must I say it? What promises do they require?" - Daenerys VI, ADWD

Meereenese seldom rode within their city walls. They preferred palanquins, litters, and sedan chairs, borne upon the shoulders of their slaves. "Horses befoul the streets," one man of Zakh had told her, "slaves do not." Dany had freed the slaves, yet palanquins, litters, and sedan chairs still choked the streets as before, and none of them floated magically through the air. - Daenerys VII, ADWD

"They are permitting that, yes," she had replied, "but their warships remain. They can close their fingers around our throat again whenever they wish. They have opened a slave market within sight of my walls!"

"Outside our walls, sweet queen. That was a condition of the peace, that Yunkai would be free to trade in slaves as before, unmolested."

"In their own city. Not where I have to see it." The Wise Masters had established their slave pens and auction block just south of the Skahazadhan, where the wide brown river flowed into Slaver's Bay. "They are mocking me to my face, making a show of how powerless I am to stop them."

"Posing and posturing," said her noble husband. "A show, as you have said. Let them have their mummery. When they are gone, we will make a fruit market of what they leave behind."

"When they are gone," Dany repeated. "And when will they be gone? Riders have been seen beyond the Skahazadhan. Dothraki scouts, Rakharo says, with a khalasar behind them. They will have captives. Men, women, and children, gifts for the slavers." Dothraki did not buy or sell, but they gave gifts and received them. "That is why the Yunkai'i have thrown up this market. They will leave here with thousands of new slaves."

Hizdahr zo Loraq shrugged. "But they will leave. That is the important part, my love. Yunkai will trade in slaves, Meereen will not, this is what we have agreed. Endure this for a little while longer, and it shall pass." - Daenerys VIII, ADWD

All of the entertainers were slaves. That had been part of the peace, that slaveowners be allowed the right to bring their chattels into Meereen without fear of having them freed. In return the Yunkai'i had promised to respect the rights and liberties of the former slaves that Dany had freed. A fair bargain, Hizdahr said, but the taste it left in the queen's mouth was foul. She drank another cup of wine to wash it out. - Daenerys VIII, ADWD

#anti daenerys targaryen #lol i love when stans get mad #and drive me to start looking shit up #so that i #obvious person who sees dany as a slaving hypocrite #can see that despite my perspective on her #her hypocrisy and fakery is EVEN MORE OBVIOUS #when you actually just look at the material of the books

28 notes · View notes

cherry-interlude · 4 years ago

Text

Lana Del Rey Unreleased Ranking (5)

This is a re-ranking of Lana's unreleased songs, after making a first a few years ago. This is all my opinion, which I don't mind anyone disagreeing with but don't come for me for it - honestly, I like every song, despite any criticism, and this ranking is very vague. It's based on objective and subjective opinion.

This is the fifth of five posts, with my favourites.

Wild One

Lana is nostalgic without the sadness, remembering how she’d shake it for Mike but is embracing her freedom. She lets country influence seep through her voice and her uncomplicated instrumentals – it would be an unsurprising addition to Chemtrails

True Love On The Side

Though simple in structure and lyrics, it’s more Lana’s grittier rock sound and her incredible vocals that make this one of my favourite unreleased tracks. Lana lets herself go and goes full pop rock chick for this track, whilst keeping in with her ‘other woman’ trope that makes the song still familiar despite its departure from her usual music.

Driving In Cars With Boys

Dripping in nostalgia, Driving In Cars With Boys makes you yearn for the kind of 1950s/1960s era Lana often laments over. Lana is a bad girl just having fun, doing what she pleases and giving in to her vices, and it’s this kind of song that is relatable in its escapism and desire to just do what you please. There are two versions, one with a more monotone chorus that matches the rest of the verses and another where Lana sings in a higher register, letting her cheerful, breezy love for driving with the boys shine through in her vocals.

Angels Forever Forever Angels

Perfect for Paradise, Angels Forever Forever Angels has that slow, rhythmic summer drive feel, a relaxed version of Ride which also has associations with the bikers that feature in both the music video for Ride and the lyrics to this unreleased song. It’s dreamy but grounded by Lana’s patriotic love for the grungier side of Americana.

Hollywood

It has a breathy chorus you could sing to, the feeling of a summer evening and blue skies. The ever building and dropping beat that keeps the song ticking as restlessly as Lana’s hopes and dreams gets me feeling pumped as much as her emphasised, dragged out “Hollywood” in the chorus makes me soothed. Lana is wishing for fame and fortune but it has the feel of an eighties American teen movie, iconic and deserving of a cult following.

Yes To Heaven

Hazy like a daydream, Yes To Heaven is made of sunlight and soft grass, closer to nature than the spotlights of Lana’s often alcohol-soaked, money drenched stages. Lana’s voice is tentative until it shimmers in the chorus, and though it was made for Ultraviolence, it wouldn’t be out of place on the shining beacon of hope that is Lana’s positive turn, Lust For Life.

Life Is Beautiful

This gorgeous song was intended for Age of Adaline’s trailer, and it’s been years of waiting for the full song to be released. Now we have it, it’s certainly worth the wait. Dreamy and soft, this track is a timeless classic that could underwhelm from it’s gentle feel but works perfectly well as a pure little love song.

On Our Way

Stripped back and with a country twang, Lana doesn’t add fuss and frills to this song, instead just crooning precisely how she feels in the kind of song that keeps you daydreaming for hours. Not even the smattering of her favourite imagery (Chevrolets and K-Mart lip gloss) overshadows the love that’s at the forefront of this track.

Never Let Me Go

Like On Our Way, Never Let Me Go has the country twang and stripped back feel that makes this a more subdued song, her lyrics shining even more. Lana’s additional strings layer this song well and her comparisons to the dangerous couple that is Sid and Nancy gives this track an edge, keeping it from being too frothy.

French Restaurant

A piano ballad, Lana strips back the hurt of Without You and dual dedication of Video Games to sing about how fame matters so little to her while she’s torn between two men. Her voice is beautiful and it does well to be so minimal in its production, her emotion driving the song clearly enough. Especially pretty are the backing vocals of the choruses, echoes of her thoughts that hammer home her broken feelings.

Trash Magic

Lana’s delicate and soft vocals help tie into the Lolita-esque character Lana often plays in her music. It has a similar feel to 1949, dripping with her delicious imagery, and wouldn’t be out of place on AKA Lizzy Grant. Lana is the fragile ‘daddy’s girl’ again in this song, and the sharp yet soothing music in the background sets the tone for a quiet trailer park night.

Us Against The World

Though fairly chilled out, Lana still hooks listeners with her characterisation of waitress by day/stripper by night, a dangerous girl tempting an equally dangerous guy. Lana drips sexiness in this song and though it’s not as exciting as some of her other unreleased pop hits, it is perfect for the Del Rey character.

Your Girl

Much like Caught You Boy, Lana is desperate for a man she can’t have but is instead a complete wreck. Lana just repeats over and over how she wishes she was this man’s girl, practically pleading after describing how she needs to be led off the stage from falling apart. Yet it’s still sultry, still passionate, and is topped off by her honey-like vocal demonstration in the bridge and the chorus.

Roses

Lana is the other woman with a twist – instead of moping about her man (Other Woman, Sad Girl) she is taking action. Fighting against him, not letting him go without making some noise and getting rid of his girlfriend, Lana storms into the song with a vengeful wrath and calls him out for his poor attempts at apologies. When this song first came out, I adored it, since it was the exact kind of strong-girl track I wanted from her with a great hook and all the right Lana-isms. Now, I still get that thrill listening to this song and its kick-ass fuck-you to the man she loves.

Playing Dangerous

The churning drums, the spoken verses and the coy vocals set this song apart from her others. It falls shorter during the choruses, the verses being the best parts of the track, but the way Lana interacts with the listener ultimately and is a more direct character of ‘innocent’ seductress who might actually be downright bad (arson is hinted).

Serene Queen

Lana is unbothered and unruffled, as collected as she is in Put Your Lips Together but this time with a definite Ultraviolence/Honeymoon feel. Lana is unshaken by the blazing guns, instead completely calm with her dangerous lover, questioning why he even has a problem in the first place. As it picks up in the chorus, almost smirking, it becomes one of her finer unreleased songs yet.

Ave Maria

This is just an instrumental but there’s something so beautifully haunting about it. It wouldn’t be out of place in a Hollywood movie, with shades of the Lolita soundtrack instantly coming to mind when it first starts. It even works well without singing, and I hope we get a full version soon.

Puppy Love

From the perspective of a Marilyn Monroe figure, Lana plays the teenage girl wishing for a traditional romance with her lover. It’s ever-so-adorable, harking back to the sweeter parts of the fifties, but there’s a sense of sadness throughout it. Under the surface of the puppy love is the reality that the references to Monroe do not forget her sadness, loneliness and ultimately her overdose. The tone shifts to such an unhappiness in the bridge, directly calling back to Monroe’s phone call shortly before she overdosed, twisting the song to something more melancholic.

Cherry Blossom

The lullaby that grew into the marvellous, completed Cherry Blossom is a lovely tribute to someone small and beloved. Though Lana doesn’t have children yet, the care in her voice and each of her heart-warming compliments and promises is still thoroughly enjoyable – and comforting.

Colour Blue

In a song that reminds me of the love/hate relationship of Norman Fucking Rockwell, Lana takes her time to question why she loves the men that she does and, ultimately, grow from it, beginning to want something different. It’s raw and personal, with a gushing chorus that is complimented fully by the guitar. This song is blue all over, from Lana's opening harmonisation to her abrupt, unhappy ending.

Paradise

This song is, of course, pure paradise. A summery beat, a flippant Lana simply enjoying her lover no matter how long she’ll have him for and her coos of “sick!” and “that’s dope!” make this into a tasty distraction fit for the sunny months. Her casualness in this track is fresh as well as the dance-happy music that she doesn’t often create in her albums.

Meet Me In The Pale Moonlight

Lana is the waitress with a crush in this bop of a track, trying to convince a guy to get with her instead of that “bitch”. Convincing she is, as she uses all of her charm, wit and insistence that there’s no promises behind her intentions to have a good time with him. It’s just a breath of fresh air compared to a lot of her music, not too heavy and perfectly polished. It’s self-assured as much as it is breezy, and calm as it is it’s still a riot to listen to.

Caught You Boy

A dream-esque confession of desire, obsession and pure, crazy love, Lana isn’t outright insane in this track (Kinda Outta Luck, Jealous Girl, Serial Killer) but she hints towards being slightly too attached to her beau and describing herself as an army of one. The song is sweet and flowery but there’s a sadness and danger to it that keeps it from being too sugary.

Fine China

Some of Lana’s best lyrics are in Fine China as she sings of her fractured relationship, unhappy wedding and many beautiful yet easily broken things. It’s a slow, unfussy ballad but her strong voice and stunning lyrics make it so much more than a throwaway unreleased song.

Thunder

What feels like a coming-of-age slow dance song but is ultimately a choir-backed break-up track. Lana’s lyrics are clever and her voice is the perfect complement to The Last Shadow Puppets, this combined work a sure hit that deserves some kind of release and recognition. Lana is frustrated but tender as she leads the song with plenty of presence.

Prom Song Gone Wrong

The fifties feel, the teenage romance, the warm and gorgeous vocals that switch from dreamily longing to a cheeky talk-rap suggest this is a song tied tightly to Puppy Love, except with a more hopeful feel to it. Lana is ready to leave and she wants her lover to come with her, and even if it’s a youthful mistake there’s no mistaking that the love she – and her man – feels is real. It’s a pretty dedication to the kind of head-spinning romance of younger years, though it has an edge to it. Lana’s choruses are desperate, her pleading genuine and the strange way the music builds and collapses right at the end give the illusion all isn’t the sunshine and rainbows Lana sings of – and hopes for.

#lana del rey #lana del rey songs #lana del rey unreleased #cherry-interlude

28 notes · View notes

wolffesimp · 4 years ago

Text

This is What War Does to You

summary: y/n is a doctor for the GAR. after a stressful day, obi wan seeks comfort from her.

warnings: 1.4 k words of trash. hurt to comfort fic. there is a lil bit of angst and there is also happy endings cuz i don’t write unhappy endings in MY CANON! 🥰

Rex was the first to run in, holding a trooper in his arms. In obvious disarray, he was looking around to try and find Y/N. His desperate eyes locked with hers. Y/N gaped, running to Rex. Just then, more injured troopers entered. Many familiar faces were in pain.

“Wh-what happened?” she was horrified, grabbing Rex’s arm to lead him to the medic bay. “I need all hands on deck! Troopers will be coming in soon!”

Rex set down the clone in front of Y/N.

“Injuries?”

“Leg and left arm.”

Stripping the clone of their armor, she found the sticky blacks hiding underneath. They had been bleeding profusely. She cringed as she unveiled their injuries. Two deep gashes from bullet wounds. Looking up, she found Rex’s tired eyes. He can’t be here, it’s just too much for him right now.

“Rex, honey, you need to leave. They are safe in my care.”

“But ma’am-”

“Do not fight with me right now. We cannot afford to have such arguments when your brothers are all in critical condition.”

Rex frowned as she began to turn on her medical droids and ready her tools. “I-I understand.”

She caressed his cheek gently. In no way did she mean to come off cold. But right now there was too much happening. Y/N couldn’t have him in her way. “Thank you, Rex. You are one of the bravest soldiers I know.”

And with that, he walked away. Assessing the troopers injuries, she mentally prepared herself for a long night. The entire bay was filled with clone troopers and their short-staffed medical team. Emitting a sigh, she began to work on the man in front of her.

How many more would she have to treat tonight?

Well, Y/N was beyond stressed. By the time of 6 AM, she was still working. The last trooper was being treated. Their injury wasn’t extensive, unlike the others that she treated. She made her medical team go to sleep earlier in the morning. So, she worked silently in the shroud of stars and hyperspace.

Suddenly she felt a presence. Looking behind her, she found a sleepy Obi Wan. He approached her, standing beside the head doctor. In his hands he held a tea and coffee. Completing the last stitch, she exhaled deeply. Y/N turned to the Jedi who offered her the coffee. Warmth filled her palms as she latched onto the cup. Eyes softening, she gave the Jedi the best smile she could muster in her drowsy state.

“I could just kiss you right now, Obi Wan. This means a lot to me.”

Obi Wan laughed. “How are you doing, Y/N?”

This is a dandy opportunity for Y/N to release all of her internalized stress and anger! Obi Wan sat down in a nearby chair. Y/N paused to take a sip of her coffee.

“I thought this was going to be a great way to help the GAR! Which, it is, but there is so much other shit going on! Like, I’m not just a doctor. I serve as a soldier in some situations where my medical attention is needed on the field. I help Cody and Rex strategize and provide mental support to any clone that needs it. And now, I have not one pain in the ass, but two entire legions of pains in my ass! No offense, but you Jedi are also crazy! Next thing I know you motherfuckers are gonna start flying around with your weird mind powers!”

“So, to answer your question, I am doing fan-fucking-tastic Obi Wan. Especially since you guys brought in at least 15 new soldiers for me and my team to scramble around and try to help without giving me any heads up!”

“I admit, that was inappropriate of me. But it wasn’t like we were expecting everything to go wrong.”

Sitting beside the General, she ran her fingers through his hair. “I know darling. There’s nothing you can do about it now though.”

He yawned. “Suppose so.”

“Have you gotten any sleep?”

“Only woke up a few minutes ago.”

Like a puppy, he curled into Y/N’s side.

“Just let me stay here for a little bit.” Obi Wan said

His arms wrapped around her waist. Burying his head into her upper chest, he intently listened to her heartbeat. Their position was slightly awkward, as the arms of the chairs separated their bodies slightly. But they made it work. Comfortingly, she continued to run her fingers through his hair. It always worked like a charm on the Jedi.

“Everything went wrong. No matter what we did-”

“What happened happened. You cannot go back in time, no matter how much you want to. There will always be lives lost in war. I am not saying that these deaths are meaningless. They most certainly are not. But, it is the expectation that people you love will die. That is why I hope there is a place we go after we die, reuniting with everyone who is gone.”

“Fate works in strange ways. Like how I joined the GAR and met all of you magical people. Nothing is a coincidence. In the end, we are all connected one way or another.”

“Now, you can look at the clone’s deaths however you like. But me personally? I will be thinking about the next time I see them. Not in pain, not sick, not dying in my arms, but happy. It is what they deserve. Only the best the afterlife has to offer.”

“War is ugly. You can never forget or escape it. I know some moments still haunt me in my sleep, and I haven’t fought nearly as many battles as they have. But what we have to do is get through it. To see the light at the end of the tunnel. I know it’s there and if we fight long enough, we will find it.”

Obi Wan was crying, she realized soon after her compelling speech. His body shook as silent sobs racked through his body. Arms tightening around her waist, grabbing at her supple skin. He needed something- anything to make him feel better. Like a child, he was deadlocked onto her. The pressure of being the perfect general and Jedi was prevealant in the wrinkles on his handsome face and the callouses on his hands.

Hot tears stained her shirt as they continuously fell from his face. Y/N held him impossibly closer, hoping her affection was enough to quell the sadness in his heart. Tears also began to fill her eyes. An immense sense of guilt fell over the two.

This is what war does to you.

It breaks you slowly. Even the strongest of people cried.

“It’s alright darling. It’s alright.”

They both knew it wasn’t.

“Nothing is lost so long as we continue to dream in color and fight with all we’ve got.”

To Obi Wan and Y/N, dreaming in color was fantasizing the ideal future. One where the Jedi weren’t held up to such high standards. One where the clones lived a full life doing whatever they liked, not judged by society because they all looked the same. One where Ahsoka felt like a real teenager and did teenager things. One where Padmé and Anakin get their happy ending. They could make it a reality so long as they fought hard enough.

Obi Wan tilted his head up. Just the sight of his heartbroken eyes cued Y/N’s floodgates. His bloodshot, golden orbs continued to be beautiful even in moments of pain. Neither were used to letting their guards down. She cupped the sides of his face, thumbs running over his deep and silky beard. Tears dripped down her chin and jaw as they shared the intimate moment.

“You stop that.” Obi Wan said

Weakly, he kissed her tears away. Soft lips collided on her skin. Heat coursed through her veins at the gesture. Closing her eyes, she let the last of her tears slip out. The salty taste lingered as he pulled her into his lap. Her legs wrapped around his torso. Pressing their foreheads against each other, they stared back at one another.

“You are the one that started crying first.” she teased softly

They both laughed despite the pain. It was something you learned to do after so many hardships. She rested her head in his neck.

“I forgot how tired I was...”

“Then go to sleep, darling.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. Just as she was doing to him a few moments ago, he began to play with her hair. Coaxing her to sleep, he mumbled things into her ear. But she caught one thing before she succumbed to slumber.

“I love you.”

a/n: WOOOOW IT HAS BEEN A MINUTE, Y’ALL! I am so glad that I worked past my writers block! I really do hope to be posting more content soon. Sometimes it’s just hard to force yourself to sit down and FINALLY write! But I did it! I’m hoping you guys enjoyed!

And as I always say, DO NOT BE AFRAID TO INTERACT! My ask box is ALWAYS open! My direct messages are OPEN! Comments are welcomed, as well as reblogs. I love you guys!

masterlist for more of my content

#tcw #the clone wars #obi wan kenobi #obi wan angst #obi wan x you #obi wan x y/n #obi wan fic #obi wan x reader #obi wan fluff #star wars prequels #sw prequels #ahsoka #anakin #anakin skywalker #Ahsoka Tano #sw ahso #captain rex #clone trooper rex #padme and anakin

101 notes · View notes

lowritesthings · 4 years ago

Text

Resonance

Part One of ?? Next >>

Notes: Takes place in the days immediately before the opening of the Remake.

The bar is still mostly empty. When the evening train arrives it will fill up quick enough, but for now it’s just you and a very serious man around your age that Tifa has just informed you is Cloud Strife. You’d told him your name and he’d accepted a handshake, but that had pretty much been the end of the conversation. He seems quite content to sit at his end of the bar and brood over his drink. You don’t mind if he doesn’t want to talk, but when you catch Tifa’s eyes she mouths, “sorry!” at you before she fixes you something deliciously cold to drink.

“Have you seen Jessie?” she asks you as she passes your drink over. You shake your head and she purses her lips. “I hope there’s no trouble.”

You hear the extra note of concern in her voice and lower your own. “So it’ll be soon then?”

“Yes.” Her expression is unhappy but she doesn’t say anything more. It’s too dangerous. There are still plenty of people even in the slums that are believers in Shinra, and a lot of the locals suspect that Tifa is at least sheltering Avalanche if she isn’t one of them. They’re right, of course, but as long as they keep their suspicions to themselves it isn’t a problem.

“I’ll make sure my kit is ready,” you say. You’re not a card-carrying member of the cell, but you help patch the team up if the injuries aren’t too serious, and assist the doctor if they are. Your day job is at the Leaf House, which is how you got involved in the first place: Biggs had been forced to retreat to his former work place once after a run-in with a bunch of Shinra’s goons, and when you’d seen the bullet hole he couldn’t pretend he’d just fallen off a ladder or something equally pedestrian.

“I’m sorry I can’t tell you more,” she tells you, and you can tell she means it. “But…”

You laugh softly. “Barret would have your ass? It’s okay, I understand. Hopefully no one will need me and I’ll find out what happened when the rest of Midgar does.”

“Thanks. I know we all really appreciate you.” Tifa reaches out and gives your hand a squeeze, and you feel the warmth of acceptance. Even if you’re not part of the team, it’s nice to feel useful and appreciated.

You’ve moved on to talking about Marlene and her newfound passion for dancing when the door bursts open and Biggs rushes in. Your heart clenches the same way it always does at the sight of him, and that familiar colony of butterflies takes wing in your stomach--which drops as soon as you recognize the tightness around his eyes.

“Tifa,” he says in an urgent but controlled voice. She nods and disappears into the back room, perhaps disabling the lift to the hideout beneath your feet. Cloud looks up for the first time but he doesn’t move or ask questions. Still, you can see that he’s paying close attention even as his fingers curl around the glass in front of him.

Tifa pops back into the room and Biggs asks, “Barret?” When she shakes her head, he lets out a short sigh and says, “Well, that’s probably for the best. This the guy?” He indicates Cloud with a jerk of his thumb.

“Yeah. What’s going on, Biggs?”

“Shinra raid,” he replies. His eyes fall on you. “What are you--? Nevermind. There’s no time.” He takes your elbow and when you’re on your feet, tugs you gently into a corner. His arms come up to frame your head and he leans in close, but it isn’t sweet nothings he whispers in your ear. Instead, as the door slams open again, he leans down and murmurs, “Try to keep your face hidden. Put your hand on my waist. I’m enough of a risk to the Leaf House, but if they can trace you back there…”

You nod as the Shinra soldiers fan out through the bar, hands on weapons. You follow Bigg’s orders, only instead of putting your arm around his waist, you let them both dangle over his shoulders and you idly play with the hair at the back of his neck. You can see the little shiver it gives him and feel one of your own dance down your spine.

Then he smirks at you. “Oh, and don’t forget to pretend I’m very distracting and funny.”

“Mmm…not sure if I can pull that off.” But you let out a flirtatious little giggle anyway, because you do have an audience and you’re hoping they won’t be interested in an amorous couple.

Behind Biggs, you can see Cloud’s eyes cut toward you both before he looks over to Tifa, and then back down to his drink. His shoulders relax and his expression turns glacial as the leader of the Shinra squad marches up to the bar.

“You in charge?” he snaps to Tifa.

“Y-yes…” she replies slowly. “Is there some sort of problem?”

“There are rumors that Avalanche is hiding here, so you just sit your pretty ass down and stay out of our way.”

He makes a gesture and the men he’s brought with him begin methodically--and forcefully--searching the bar. They flip chairs and shove tables around, pull decor off of the walls and shove at the jukebox.

“Now, wait--you can search all you want, but don’t break the--” Tifa starts, but the squad leader shoves her back. You feel Biggs’ shoulders tense under your arms, torn between helping her and protecting you, but there’s no need for him to make a tough decision: Cloud’s head comes up once more.

“Touch her again and I’ll stick my sword up your ass, lieutenant,” he says in the same bored voice he’d used when you’d been introduced. It’s so clearly a threat that he intends to take out, but he says it like he’s observing the weather. The squad leader spins to face him, spots his sword and uniform, and swallows whatever smarmy comment he’d been about to make. Biggs chuckles in your ear and you shoot him a curious look.

“I can’t believe it,” he says under his breath, sounding impressed in spite of himself. “That cocky son of a bitch is pulling rank!”

“You’re a...a SOLDIER? What are you doing here?” the squad leader asks, sounding much less confident than he had thirty seconds ago. Cloud waves a lazy hand.

“Whatever I want.” Then he glances around at the men the Shinra lieutenant brought with him. “What’s going on?”

“We have reason to believe she’s sheltering terrorists,” he replies, with a sneering look at Tifa.

Suddenly, one of the soldiers grabs Biggs’ arm and tries to jerk him away from you. Remembering your orders, you keep your face turned away from him. Biggs’ other arm drops from the wall to your waist and he pulls you tight against his body.

“You mind?” he snaps at the soldier. “The lady and I are a little busy.”

“I need to see your ID,” the soldier tells him. His eyes fall on you, but your hair is down and thankfully obscuring your face further. “Both of you.”

If Cloud notices your dilemma, he gives no indication of it. He just keeps staring at the squad leader like he’s a semi-fascinating bug. “You think I’d drink at a bar full of terrorists?”

The squad leader falters. “W-well…”

A flicker of disdainful amusement crosses the ex-SOLDIER’s face. “If I find any planet-huggers, I’ll send them right to you.” His tone is so patronizing that you almost feel bad for the poor lieutenant...well, not really. But almost. “Unless you prefer me to deal with them myself? Probably not worth my time. Who’s your battalion commander?”

The squad leader makes a choking noise. Then he signals to his men again. “Search completed, let’s go.”

You can see the soldiers glance at each other, but they’ve been too well trained to question an order, so they begin filing out--including the one harrassing you and Biggs.

“Wait.” Cloud’s eyes have fallen back on his drink, but at the sound of his voice the room freezes again. “Not very good manners, trashing a place and leaving it that way.”

Immediately, the men begin setting the room to rights. It’s almost funny how fast they move to clean things up. Chairs and tables get shoved back into place, decor is put back on the walls, and one man even begins sweeping up the shards of a glass he’d broken while smashing his way through the search. While they’re distracted, Biggs turns back toward you and you tuck your face into his shoulder as his other arm joins the first around your waist.

“Almost,” he murmurs against your ear. “You’re doing good.”

“Tough assignment,” you whisper back, threading your fingers into his hair just in case anyone is still paying attention to you. “Standing here and trying not to let them see me.”

“Well, and pretending I’m the most interesting man you’ve ever met, even with SOLDIER-boy sitting at the bar over there,” he replies, sounding amused at your nonchalance.

“Broody hero types are popular,” you admit with a dramatic sigh, “but we met five minutes ago and I bet he has no idea what my name is.”

“Broke your heart already, did he? What a bastard,” Biggs chuckles, and you grin against his shoulder.

“Dispicable,” you agree, and he gives you a squeeze. When the last of the Shinra soldiers disappear out of the door, he lets you go and steps away. The urge to drag him back into your arms is almost painful, it’s so strong, but you force yourself to settle for heading back toward your waiting drink.

“What was that about?” Tifa asks, sounding a little shaken. Biggs takes the stool next to yours and steals your drink, taking a sip before his expression settles into something a little grim.

“They know something’s coming. They must be trying to stop us before we can pull the job off,” he says. Cloud makes a noise and all three of you look over to him. He looks up, realizes that three pairs of eyes are watching while you all wait for him to speak, and falters for a second. Then he says,

“They’re not really trying, they just have to make it look like they are. But the PR is much better if they swoop in and clean up after a terrorist attack than if they prevent it. People will forget if they stop it before it happens. They won’t forget who helped them in the aftermath. Makes them look like heroes, which is exactly what they want.”

“So what do we do?” Biggs asks him.

He shrugs. “This is your op. I’m just the hired help. Ask your fearless leader...if you can find him.”

Biggs snorts and takes another gulp of your drink before you snatch it back.

“We can’t stop now,” Tifa says, though she sounds unhappy about it. “We’ve worked too hard and...people have been…”

“I know,” Biggs replies in a tight voice. “Guess I’m just wondering if our timing sucks.”

“It’s never going to be the perfect time, no matter what you’re planning. But the planet can’t wait forever, right?” you ask. He glances toward you and nods and you give him a supportive smile. He smiles back--and then steals your drink for a second time. He finishes it off while you lunge forward to take it back, then slaps some gil on the counter to pay for a new one for you before you can complain too much.

“I better find Barret and give him an update,” he says. “See you guys later.”

“Later,” you and Tifa chorus. Cloud lifts a hand in goodbye without even looking over. You want to say something else, make some joke about being tucked into a corner together, but you can’t think of anything. Instead, you watch him stride back out of the bar and let your shoulders slump in disappointment. Tifa gives your hand a comforting pat.

“Don’t give up,” she tells you, and you give her a wry smile.

“It’s okay. He’s got bigger things to worry about. Besides, it’s just a crush, right? It’ll disappear on its own with time.”

“Maybe…” she agrees, but she sounds doubtful and you follow her gaze to Cloud. Then you both let out unhappy sighs. Love, you decide, thoroughly sucks.

#biggs x reader #cloud x tifa #cloti #self-indulgent #just for fun since I'm obsessed with the remake #ff7r #ff7 remake #lo writes things

38 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

Wasteland, Baby, Chapter 2 (Crygi, Nicky x Jaida) - Metaluna

Summary: With the end drawing near, tensions are high, emotions are aplenty. As everyone need someone to lean on, secrets come out. a TW for descriptions of child abuse, not super graphic but still there

A/N: Hi guys! I’m back with another chapter. I didn’t anticipate going this long without an update but I was super stuck (I wrote a whole ass four chapter fic between the last chapter and now) A big thanks to Bell for helping me by beta reading xoxo Enjoy!!

While preparing for the end of the world, Jackie learned a lot of skills she never thought she would. There was never a time in her life where she thought she would learn how to make a radiation monitor out of a coffee can. She had to admit, learning about nuclear half-lives was much more interesting than she thought.

The one thing Jackie was nervous about was learning how to shoot a gun. She was nervous, her hands shook as Crystal handed her what she thought was a rifle. Crystal informed her it was a 12 gauge shotgun. Thankfully, because the house was in the middle of the woods, they didn’t have to worry about stray bullets or the noise.

“Jackie, you need to calm down.”

“I’m trying!”

“You’re shaking! It’s not that bad, I learned to do this when I was like fourteen. You can do it.”

Crystal set up a mock shooting range in her backyard. She had rigged metal garbage can lids with spray painted targets haphazardly sprayed on into the trees. There was an old table with beer bottles spaced evenly apart on top. Jackie was impressed at the amount of time that Crystal put it all together.

“I’m a pacifist, Crystal.”

“You think I wanted to learn how to do all of this?”

Jackie fell silent. On the few occasions that Crystal did talk about all that she’d learned, she always looked unhappy. Jackie knew her best friend wasn’t happy with the direction her life took, and no matter how hard she tried to hide it, it showed.

Jackie took a deep breath in.

“Oh, no. You’re holding it all wrong. But that’s okay! Let me help you fix it!”

It was very clear that Crystal spent all day teaching children how to paint, and was probably damn good at it, if her ability to teach someone to fire a gun was at all similar to teaching a twelve year old how to paint a sunset. She explained to Jackie how to load the shotgun with the same tone that she probably used with her students.

“So first of all, even if it isn’t, always treat a gun like it’s loaded. It’s good practice, and sometimes you never know, you know?” She got behind Jackie to help her move her body into the correct position. “Move your left hand so it’s over the middle. Okay, great. Next go into firing position. Stand shoulder width apart. Good, good. Alright, so align your eye with the stock.”

“What the hell is the stock?”

“That’s the part… yeah, yeah, yeah. That part. Perfect. So okay yeah, align… Great. Put the butt closer to your shoulder.”

Jackie turned her head to look at Crystal.

“The butt. Of the gun. Okay good. Now. Flip the safety off. You’re gonna squeeze the trigger. Do it firmly like you’re shaking someone’s hand kinda. It’s going to hurt, I’m just warning you now. That’s the kickback. ”

Jackie shut her eyes and shot, and missed the target completely. The gunshot made her ears ring. Even though Crystal had warned her about recoil, she wasn’t prepared for feeling as though she was about to fall backwards. Thankfully, Crystal was behind her, holding her upright.

“Jackie, did you really just shut your eyes?”

“I’m sorry!”

“Here. Watch me do it.”

Jackie had never seen Crystal look so sure of anything in her entire life. She confidently took the gun and stood just the way she had shown. Without hesitation, she fired the gun and hit one of the beer bottles.

“Holy, shit Crystal! You did that!”

“And you can too.”

Even though she looked confident, Crystal had never been a confident markswoman. Whenever her and her aunt would go out back and practice, her aunt was always told how bad of a shot she was. As much as she hated to admit it, shooting a gun again felt nice.

“But did you see how I actually kept my eyes open?” Her tone was sarcastic.

“Shut up.” Jackie took the gun back.

“Also, to make sure the kickback isn’t as bad, make sure that you hold the gun tightly. You’ll still feel it but it won’t be as bad, and hopefully you won’t feel like you’re going to fall. I’ll still stand behind you just in case.”

Jackie exhaled as she took the shooting stance. She closed her left eye and looked ahead. She aimed, and squeezed the trigger. With a loud clang, the bullet hit the trash can lid. It wasn’t centered, but it was close.

“You did it!”

“I did it!”

“Now you can do it on your own. Try one of the bottles now.” Crystal stood to the side to watch Jackie’s technique.

After taking a deep breath, Jackie pulled the trigger, and barely grazed the neck of the bottle. Crystal encouraged her to try again. After another deep breath, she hit one of the beer bottles dead in the center, causing it to shatter.

Jackie was so excited seeing the bottle explode she started jumping up and down, forgetting she had a fully loaded weapon.

Crystal ducked. “Okay, so you really don’t want to do that with a loaded gun.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled, turning on the safety.

“You did it!”

“I did it!”

Jackie shot three more bottles, and managed to hit the garbage lid dead in the center. Her confidence raised considerably. Maybe, just maybe, she could survive the end of the world.

–

The environment of the shelter was unlike anything Gigi had ever experienced. Everything was ran militaristically, even though she was pretty sure that the military wasn’t involved. The amount of structure was almost jarring. One night, Gigi and her friends accidentally loitered a little too long after dinner and were promptly yelled at by a man who probably dropped out of the police academy.

Gigi was incredibly thankful for her friends. They spent almost every moment together. However, they agreed to give each other space for a few hours every day. If the president made good on his promise, they would be spending an entire year together. During this time, everyone used the lackluster Wi-Fi to talk to their families.

Everyone except for Gigi.

As it turned out, the shelter had side rooms that Gigi wasn’t aware of. They were small and soundproof, and meant specifically to have private conversations. Everyone else spent time in the rooms every day. When her friends spoke to their loved ones, Gigi went into the common room and watched the news.

“That man is not right in the head,” a woman with a strong Russian accent sitting on the couch adjacent to Gigi announced.

“No, he’s not.”

“People like him are why I left my country.”

Gigi didn’t respond, and instead focused her attention on the television. Politics were never something that Gigi followed. She voted every November, but the extent of her knowledge of current events was via Twitter. Anytime she learned something bad happening in the world, she felt panicked. Usually, she could shake the feeling, but with the amount of stress she was under, this time she couldn’t. She felt her chest tighten and could hear her heartbeat.

“Are you okay?” the woman asked.

Gigi shook her head and left. By the time that she made it back to her room, Gigi was mid panic attack. She hoped that by the time she got there, there wouldn’t be anyone in the room. Unfortunately for her, Jan was sitting on her bed singing to herself.

“Gigi? Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Can’t breathe.”

Jan wrapped Gigi into her arms. “Focus on your breathing. In and out.”

As Gigi tried to focus on her breathing as Jan stroked her hair.

“Thank you,” Gigi managed as she came down from her panic attack.

“Anytime. It’s a tough time and if I can ever help you, please come find me. I know what it’s like to have anxiety, and I don’t want you to go through this alone. Did anything trigger you?”

“The news.”

Gigi was genuinely surprised with how kind Jan was. She had known Gigi for just a few short days, and Jan treated her as if she’d known her for years. Her warmth was something that Gigi envied.

“Did you talk to your family today?”

“I got to talk to my mom a little bit today. It was…rough.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Gigi offered.

“It just really sucks that I can’t be with her right now.” Jan’s voice broke. “She couldn’t afford to stay at a shelter. I offered up my spot, but she wouldn’t let me. She doesn’t have enough to even reinforce her apartment. It’s literally just her and her cat. I can’t be with them. They’re my only family.”

“Shh, Jan. It’s okay.” Gigi tried to mimic the way Jan stroked her hair. Comforting people was something Gigi never excelled in. She never knew what to do when people cried. Usually she felt so uncomfortable she started involuntarily laughing. Thankfully, she held it together.

“Thanks Gigi. What about you? Have you talked to your family?”

Gigi was hoping she could avoid this question. “Uh… Not exactly?”

Before Jan could question any further, Nicky and Jaida entered the room.

“Time for dinner, bitches,” Jaida announced.

As she stood up, Gigi could feel Jan’s eyes on her. Gigi knew no matter how hard she tried to dodge questions about her family, it would come up eventually, especially if Gigi was to be spending the entire year with the same group of girls. The thought continued as Gigi tried to force down the driest spaghetti and meatballs she ever had the displeasure of eating.

Jan stared at the large countdown clock on the wall. “Twelve hours, ladies.”

Twelve hours. In just twelve hours, life as they knew it was going to cease to exist. Gigi felt as though her stomach dropped to her feet. Jan wasn’t the only one who noticed. Everyone’s conversations in the dining hall all came to a halt, as they all looked at the ominous red numbers. As everyone sat in silence, Gigi had never felt so connected to a room of strangers before. A few moments later, the Russian woman Gigi sat next to started talking. All of the inhabitants in the shelter took this as a cue that they could start talking, too.

The women engaged in lighthearted banter. Somehow they went from talking about favorite ice cream flavors, to zodiacs, to first pets. Eventually, the bell announcing the end of dinner rang.

“Not how I imagined the last supper going” Nicky joked.

Gigi didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. “It’s finally feeling real.”

Silently, the women made their way back to their room, and Jan promptly sat on the floor. One by one, the others joined her. Gigi was the last, sitting tentatively, trying to not think about how dirty the floor probably was. She reasoned with herself telling herself it had to be clean, since it was a newly built building.

“Circle time,” Jan announced with fake enthusiasm.

“I still can’t decide if I believe this is all a pissing contest between the president and Korea, or if I’m just trying to convince myself,” Jaida mused.

Nicky kissed her girl’s hand. “I hope it’s the pissing contest.“

Jan rubbed her hands together like a comic book villain. “Does anyone have any deep dirty secrets they want to convince?”

“Your first,” Gigi challenged.

“Okay. Sure. Well, when I got my first role, I didn’t get it based on talent alone. I fucked the casting director. No one knows that. Not even my best friend, Brita.”

“Damn, girl,” Jaida exclaimed. “I’m impressed.”

Jan flushed. “What about you?”

Jaida pursed her lips. “Nicky knows this. But, when I first moved to LA from Wisconsin, I was broke. Like, broke broke. Rent was due the next day, and I didn’t know what else to do. I walked past a stripclub and saw that there was an amateur night. That night I became Jaida Essence. I made enough to pay rent plus some.”

“Wow. I’m not surprised you made so much. You’re hot as fuck.”

“Thanks, G. It wasn’t just that one time. I did it enough that they eventually hired me. I quit about a month before I held your hair back at that party.”

“I’m in love with a strippa,” Nicky sang.

“Shut up!” Jaida playfully smacked her partner. “What do you have to say for yourself ma’am?”

“Mine sadly isn’t as shocking,” Nicky began. “When I was in university in France, I fucked my professor. It wasn’t for a grade or anything. She was just hot.”

The group laughed before Gigi asked, “What subject?”

“Ethics.”

“Oh, the irony,” Jaida said, rolling her eyes. “Gigi?”

Gigi thought about giving a disingenuous answer, but thought about how she couldn’t keep her secret forever. She sighed. “So, you know how I haven’t talked to any family since we’ve been here? Well, that’s because I don’t really… have a family.”

No one said anything, so Gigi continued. “My mom had me when she was seventeen years old. She was a senior in high school, and her boyfriend… my dad left her. I still don’t know who he is or where he is. Anyway. She made a lot of… poor decisions. I was taken from her when I was nine. I bounced from foster home to foster home until I eventually aged out of the system.”

“Wow,” Jaida said as she took Gigi’s hand.

No one wanted to ask, but they all had the same question, which Gigi knew.

“The reason I never told anyone is because I was, I don’t know, ashamed of it? I know I shouldn’t be because it made me who I am. All throughout school, I was surrounded by these rich kids from nuclear families,” Gigi cringed at her unfortunate word choice. “As I moved up in the fashion world, it was just all these privileged people that lived so opulently. Growing up, all the belongings I had growing up had to fit into a trash bag.”

Jan wrapped Gigi in a tight hug, and Nicky and Jaida followed suit. Gigi wasn’t sure how long they sat wordlessly holding each other. She shut her eyes and tried to take in the moment. She knew that in just a few hours, things weren’t going to be the same. She wasn’t going to be able to launch her new collection. She wasn’t going to have a design on the cover of Vogue. None of it mattered. In that moment, all she could focus on was the group of girls who were the family she never had.

–

Crystal and Jackie sat across from each other in the basement. Between the two of them was a bong. Jackie couldn’t calm down, and Crystal had a solution. Jackie had never smoked before. While Crystal knew starting someone on a bong wasn’t the best idea, it was all she had.

In the past few days, Crystal had taught Jackie a lot. It felt suiting that the last thing Crystal taught her was how to get high in an attempt to be calm. Just like with anything else, Crystal was an incredible teacher. Jackie successfully hit the bong, managing not to cough. Before too long, Jackie felt the weed hit her system.

“My arms feel heavy.”

“That would be the weed.”

“I wanna lay down,” Jackie said before dramatically falling backward onto a pillow. Crystal decided that the ground looked lovely and also laid down.

“One hour,” Crystal whispered as she looked at her watch.

“Things aren’t going to be the same, are they?” Jackie’s tone reminded Crystal of a child asking if there was a monster in their closet.

Jackie already knew her answer, but Crystal responded, “No.”

Suddenly, Jackie’s knowledge of foreign affairs bubbled to the surface. “Even if the president and the dictator don’t make good on their promises, our foreign affairs are fucked. It’s either the world ends, or more than likely all of our allies are going to pull out because he’s so unstable. If he threatened to nuke a whole country, no one is going to want to be our ally. If for whatever reason we had a world war, which honestly a huge possibility, we are fucked.”

Crystal blinked. She knew her best friend was smart, but anytime Jackie talked about politics, Crystal couldn’t help be impressed. “I’m too high to process what you just said, but I’m going to assume that whatever you said is really, really bad.”

“Correct.”

Crystal closed her eyes. She didn’t know how much time passed, it could have been seconds or minutes. “Hey Jack?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Thank you for being there for me. You are the only friend I’ve ever had. You were there for me when my aunt was in one of her moods. You didn’t stare when I came into school with a black eye the next day. You are the only person who got to know me, and didn’t see me as the second coming of my aunt like everyone else did. I love you.”

Jackie sat up. “I love you too, Crystal. I was the new kid that had no friends. I ate in the bathroom until I met you. Honestly, I don’t know what I would do without you in my life, and I am thankful to call you my best friend.”

Tears began to form in Crystal’s eyes. She rested her head on Jackie’s shoulder. In a tone barely louder than a whisper she said, “I’m scared.”

“I am, too.”

Five minutes.

Jackie looked at her watch. “Fuck.”

Wordlessly, Crystal grabbed Jackie’s hands and held on for dear life.

Four minutes.

Jackie and Crystal were both crying. In the moment, both women felt so horrified they couldn’t speak.

Three minutes.

“Jackie…” Crystal trailed off unable to speak anymore.

Two minutes.

Jackie hugged Crystal tighter than she’d ever hugged anyone.

One minute.

“It’ll be okay,” Jackie said, trying to ease her own mind more than Crystal’s.

Zero.

#rpdr fanfiction #crygi #jaida x nicky #crystal methyd #gigi goode #jaida essence hall #nicky doll #jan sport #jackie cox #slow burn #lesbian au #wasteland baby #metaluna #tw child abuse #submission #s12

14 notes · View notes

cagestark · 6 years ago

Note

Hi! Im not sure if you are taking prompts, but if not pls just ignore this (I LOVE YOUR STUFF ANYWAY UR GREAT ❤️❤️❤️) What about a PrisonInmate!Tony, PrisonInmate!Steve and PrisonInmate!Bucky all trying to get their hands on freshly employed Officer!Peter who was just trying to do his job. Smut? Shenanigans? Lots of good/bad/cheesy flirting? Anything would make me so happy!!!

Hope this works for what you wanted. I had a lot of fun, feel free to hop in my inbox and let me know if you’re satisfied. I tried working Steve in but :( still not very good at writing him. Bucky is a stretch for me, too. Did what I could though! Especially considering I scrapped what I had, wrote this in 10 hours, and didn’t even glance it over skskskks sorry for errors.

Warnings: some violence, smut, drugs. 7.5k. Peter is 22!

Read here on AO3!

The first time Tony meets Officer Parker, Tony is shackled at the waist and ankles to eleven other inmates from Lincoln Correctional Facility. He reaches up with bound wrists to scrub at his facial hair hoping that he isn’t as scruffy as he feels, eyeing the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed little twink who would be driving them twenty minutes to a nearby park There they would be giving restitution to society by picking up plastic soda bottles, cigarette butts, and used condoms from under the dugout benches at the baseball diamond. Thinking of the millions of dollars he stole from his father’s company (plenty of which was still offshore and safe), Tony figures that a week of this and his debt will be repaid. He and society can call it even.

“He’s green,” Bucky mutters from beside him. He tracks the younger man’s pale eyes to Officer Twink. “No question about it.”

“Hey Fury,” Tony says when the black officer goes by, doing a head count. He motions with his bound hands to Parker. “I didn’t know it was bring-your-white-child-to-work-day. Are his legs long enough to reach the pedals in the van? Does he have his permit? Where did you leave his Hot Wheels battery-powered jeep? Will we all fit in the back, because—”

“Pushing your luck,” mutters Steve from Tony’s other side, goody-fucking-two-shoes that he is.

Fury stops walking, actually doubles back to stand in front of him. “You want me to drag you out of line, Stark? You can spend the rest of your day inside washing dishes. Or in solitary, if you feel like being an asshole like usual. Don’t fucking test me,” Fury says. He’s a real hard-ass. Tony likes him well enough.

Beyond them, Officer Parker is blushing to beat the band having heard Tony’s criticism of him. “I’m twenty-two,” he mutters, and Tony nearly groans. Beside him, Bucky does groan. This kid is so, so fucking green. What kind of dummy correctional officer just spills personal information in front of convicted felons?

The harder inmates are going to eat him alive.

If Tony doesn’t eat him first.

“Twenty-two huh? When’s your birthday, sweetheart?” Tony calls. “I’ll drop a postcard in the mail for you—"

He hears the slide of chrome on leather as Fury draws his baton. Tony has just enough time to be thankful it’s not his taser before it is jabbing him in the chest. With his feet and wrists shackled, he has no real way to keep himself upright. He ends up sprawled ass first in the dirt. Steve and Bucky have to adjust to avoid falling themselves and likely taking the whole line down with them.

“Did you just threaten Officer Parker, Stark?” Fury asks, bending over him.

Tony squints up against the sun. “If my heartfelt affection is threatening, then—”

“One more word and you’re spending the week on D Block.” D Block is solitary confinement, and if there is anything more painful to Tony, he doesn’t know what it is. Being alone with his thoughts, no one there to fill the silence, walls so thick he can’t even hear the shouts from other inmates around him—it’s enough to drive him to the edge. He folds.

“Parker,” Fury barks. “Give me your keys. Stark isn’t coming on the field trip.”

“How else am I going to repay society?” Tony asks, holding up his wrists so Fury can unchain him out of the line. Fury doesn’t dignify him with an answer, and it’s probably for the best. Words tend to pour out of Tony’s mouth without thought even at the best of times. And he really isn’t looking for spending the first week of Officer Parker’s employment up on D Block getting his trays through the slot in the door.

While Fury undoes the locks with practiced ease, Parker stands back practically wringing his hands. He looks distraught, downright upset to be honest. When he catches Tony looking, the kid turns red and looks away. God. Fucking adorable.

Tony glances up at Bucky who is looking straight ahead with the smuggest fucking smirk. He winks at Parker and the kid literally has to turn away, probably before he has a stroke, because Bucky is a good-looking guy. And he’s going to spend the entire week, eight hours a day picking up trash while being supervised by Officer Twink.

“You lucky bastard,” Tony says to him.

“Bucky’s probably got him bent on all fours in one of the dugout’s right now,” Tony mutters unhappily around an unlit cigarette. They aren’t supposed to smoke inside—it’s against the rules, actually, not just frowned upon—but in times of anxiety, he likes the familiarity of it between his lips. He picks up his dealt cards from the table and glances at them: a straight. Not bad.

“Should have kept your mouth shut,” Toomes says from across the table. His joy at Tony’s dismay is poorly disguised behind his own hand. “That’d be you, right now. Picking up trash in Manhattan. The highlight of your day getting your dick sucked in a dugout littered with caramel corn and old wads of chewing gum. God, how the mighty fall.”

“Could be you right now, too,” Tony offers genially. “But those domestic violence charges mean you don’t even get the chance to go on field trips, huh?”

“Not to mention,” Rhodes says from beside him, a dark-skinned man with a generally unhappy face, and serious disposition. He was one of the only people on the block that Tony genuinely trusted—that sort of trust was hard earned. They’d even exchanged addresses so they could communicate after one or the other gets processed out. “No guard would risk their job for a suck job with you, Toomes.”

“Brutal,” Tony says, holding out his hand to shake Rhodes’s. “True, but absolutely brutal.”

“Thanks,” Rhodey says dryly. “Is someone going to call, or what?”

Toomes ends up storming off, leaving his hand flat on the table. When Tony flips it over, he only had one pair. Unfortunate bastard.

“He’s going to give you problems, Tony,” Rhodey says. His dark eyes are still tracking Toomes who is sulking across the floor back to his cell, where he stands in the doorway, scanning the room. “He’s not showing you respect, and he’s not meshing well with the block. It’s going to come to a head soon.”

“Is this foreshadowing?” Tony asks lazily.

Rhodey just stares.

Tony is dozing in his cell when a large form takes up the doorway. He slits his eyes open to see Bucky there, fresh from a shower with his jumpsuit half-undone and tied around his waist. The white wifebeater he wears shows off his arms, including the gnarly scars on his left shoulder from his last tour overseas. It clings to skin that is still a little wet, and Tony licks his lips.

“Hey snowflake,” he says, voice raspy. “Come to rub it in?”

Bucky sits cross-legged on the floor, back against the concrete wall. “His name is Peter. He graduated from the academy last May. This is his first job—if you don’t count the food joint he worked at as a kid. And his birthday is August tenth.”

Tony scoffs. “What, you didn’t get his social security number too? I’m disappointed. And I don’t believe you.”

Bucky holds up a scarred hand, solemn. “Swear on my tags.”

“How the hell could you have found out so much about the kid in a handful of hours? With Fury marching around no less.”

The smile that slides over Bucky’s face is so fucking handsome. Downright sensual. “Fury didn’t come. He was just there for headcount. It was Coulson escorting us with the kid. He spent the whole time sitting in the van with the AC and radio on, chainsmoking. You’re going to shit yourself, Tony. This kid is so fucking sincere and sweet—” Bucky throws his voice into what must be a poor impression of Peter’s trembling voice. “—thanks Mister Barnes, you’ve been so friendly. I’m glad my first day was spent with you.”

“Aww fuck. Goddamnit. Son of a bitch.”

Bucky laughs. “Don’t worry, you’re going to get your chance. He told me today was just to break him in. Tomorrow? He’s on the block. And don’t worry, I put in a good word for you. My friend Tony, I said, he’s one of the most solid guys I know. Arrogant as fuck, but a sweetheart underneath the ten different layers of ego and narcicism.”

Tony’s eyes shut. His hands come together in a prayer position over his chest. “Oh thank you, sweet Jesus.”

“Thank me,” Bucky says, wiggling his eyebrows.

In the back of the cell is a curtain that can be drawn shut while an inmate uses the facilities. It’s where most sex happens during the daytime, when anyone is liable to walk by and glance into a cell. Tony jerks a thumb at it. “You want to see what lies behind curtain number one, Buck?”

“Sure. I’m feeling lucky.”

Showers open at dawn, and Tony is one of the first inmates there. He takes extra time soaping himself up in the lukewarm water. By the time trays are brought in, he is dressed with his hair combed. The tank top he wears is white as is required for all clothes that aren’t jumpsuits, and it looks good against his tanned skin. Tony looks fucking good for his age—which is somewhere past thirty and before fifty, thanks, don’t worry about it.

He’s halfway through a tray of biscuits and gravy with more-than-decent hash-browns when Officer Parker comes in, the door of the block screeching open. He’s escorted again by Coulson. They tend to keep senior officers with green ones, because it’s so easy for the new guys to fall prey to inmates, whether by manipulation, intimidation, or sheer manpower. Tony has seen it happen. Tony has caused it, himself. He didn’t end up as the top guy in the block by shaking hands and kissing ass.

Coulson points out things around the block: the cells (obvious), the showers, the cameras. Tony isn’t close enough to hear what’s being said, but he can imagine. Guards come in every hour during the day and every two hours at night to stroll around the block peaking into cells. Even when they aren’t a physical presence on the floor, they are always watching behind the cameras. That will be Peter’s job today: walking the floor. Every sixty minutes, he’ll walk right by Tony in his cute little dress blues. They look too clingy to be at all efficient, especially on Peter’s lithe little form, narrow hips barely able to support the holster on his waist.

Peter turns around and Tony gets a nice glimpse of his ass—God, he wants to bite it.

Bucky looks less enthusiastic today, hair pulled back into a wet bun, dark circles under his eyes. They’d slept in the same bunk last night, but when he’d awoken in the morning, Bucky had been gone. Nightmares, probably. “Now who’s the lucky bastard?” he mumbles around his fork.

Tony. Tony is the lucky bastard.

When Coulson and Peter go by, Tony calls out, face wearing a winning smile. “Good morning, officers.”

“Good morning,” Peter says sweetly. When he notices that it is Tony who spoke, his eyes double in size. Obviously, Tony has already made an impression. He plants his chin on his palm, elbow resting on the table, and lets his eyes rove over the green boy. Unashamed is his middle name.

“Inmate number one to watch out for, Parker,” Coulson says. But Tony thinks there’s a little affection underneath the vacant expression. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking.

“I’m hurt, Phil,” Tony says. “Really hurt.”

“Stark is here for fraud, and he’s a master manipulator.”

“That’s better—stroke my ego, Phil. I love it. Go on.”

Coulson looks unimpressed. “Give him a wide berth.”

Peter nods obediently. His eyes trail over to Bucky and he lights up, squinting with a smile liable to outshine the sun. “Good morning Bucky! How are you?”

Coulson looks liable to have a fucking stroke. Lips twitching, Bucky salutes. “Doing great, sweet thing, how about yourself?”

“Can’t complain,” Peter says, blushing prettily.

Coulson ends up having to drag him off. Tony can’t imagine the dressing down he’s going to be receiving once they’re in private. Actually, he can, and it’s an image he cherishes. It wouldn’t hurt for the sweet kid to have some sense knocked into him by the other guards—before one of the inmates knocks it into him for them. The thought makes Tony’s fist clench around his fork. If anybody is knocking anything into Peter, it will be him. And Bucky. Preferably at the same time.

“You can hold him down,” Tony says lowly to Bucky across the table. “I’d like to see your thick arms wrapped around him. He looks like a squirmer, so sensitive. You can keep him still with nowhere to go, sitting on your cock, and I’ll suck him off. I bet he cries.”

“Shut up,” Bucky says, eyes half-lidded. He makes a stabbing motion with his plastic fork. “Or I’ll end up in the bathroom at the park beating off.”

“I like the thought of that.”

“Yeah, well I don’t.”

The next time Peter comes around, he is alone. Tony, Toomes, and some of the other guys are sitting around the table playing poker.

“Afternoon gentlemen,” Peter says cordially. Tony is immediately smitten—the kid is trying so hard to be a Big Boy. It’s so fucking endearing. All Tony wants to do is drag the kid by the belt to the nearest cell and suck him off.

“Afternoon, handsome,” Tony says.

“I hope there’s no gambling going on,” Peter says, his arms cross across his chest. Jesus, his arms are skinny but fucking built, muscles straining beneath the cuffs of his shirt. There’s strength there. He’s reminded suddenly that this kid did pass the academy, so he does have some training under his belt.

“Gambling is against the rules, officer,” Tony says brightly. He takes the cigarette from behind his ear, hands desperate for something to do, and tucks it between his lips. “Do we look like rule breakers to you?”

Peter shakes the hand of each man around the table. Tony would have to be blind not to see the looks he’s garnering: incredulity, attraction, calculation. Toomes looks like he’s about to cream his jumpsuit when his rough hand wraps around Peter’s soft, tiny one. The look he shoots Tony is smug.

“Do I get a handshake, Officer?” Tony asks sweetly as the kid is trying to make his escape.

He looks at Tony’s hand like it is a trap. Tony softens.

“I’m sorry if I came on too strong before,” he says gently. “I just want to say, Welcome to LCF.”

Peter takes his hand. It is just as soft and smooth as it looks, but the grip is strong and firm, and Tony feels irrational pride—look at this little boy standing up to him, so fucking fearless. He makes sure to keep the handshake simple and wholesome, even though it hurts to let go. Judging by the look on Peter’s face, he agrees.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark,” the kid breaths and fuck. That goes right to his cock.

“You’re quite welcome,” he purrs.

The guards work 2-2-3’s, predictably. That means that Peter will have two day shifts, two days off, three night shifts, two days off, two day shifts, three days off, so on and so forth. The next two days with no Peter to look forward to and Bucky spending the 9 to 5 picking up trash are some of the dullest he’s ever had. Rhodey is the only consolation. They spend a lot of their time watching television together or playing chess.

And nights are spent with Bucky. They take turns topping, pressing each other into the mattress and muttering a litany of dirty prose in each other’s ears. Peter makes a lot of appearances in their repertoire, and some of the best orgasms Tony’s had in ages come from imagining him walking into his cell someday to find Bucky sucking off Officer Parker, or the other way around.

Sometimes, Tony has to go behind the curtain in his cell and pretend he’s taking a shit, when in reality he is jerking off to the thought. Popping a boner during poker isn’t exactly welcome.

The night shifts aren’t ideal. From 6 pm to 6 am, Peter will come in to walk the floor, shining light into cells to make sure everything is up to code. There isn’t as much time for conversation, but Tony figures he’ll be happy to spend the night awake in his buck just for the glimpses of Peter he’ll get. God, he’s fucking worked up over this kid. Mr. Stark, he called him. Jesus.

When Peter comes in at six, it is to general greeting suffused with catcalls. His face turns red as a tomato, but he smiles, looking pleased by the comradery.

“Hey doll,” Bucky says when he strolls by. Trays came in a few minutes prior, so they are eating. Salisbury steak tonight, disgusting—but the gravy isn’t half bad. Peter waves, coming over.

“Hi Mr. Barnes. Hi Mr. Stark.”

“It’s Tony, sweetheart,” Tony says. “Even Coulson calls us by our first names. You can do it too.”

“T-Tony,” Peter stutters.

“Say it again,” Tony purrs. “You need to get your practice in now.”

Bucky kicks him under the table. “You’re going to give him an aneurysm. Sorry Pete—Tony is a bit of a horn dog. He’s what the kids call thirsty.”

Peter laughs, hiding his smile behind his hand. “Yeah, I could have guessed. Is he like this with everybody?”

Tony goes to open his mouth, but is stopped by the increased pressure on the arch of his foot by Bucky’s boot under the table. When he glances over, Bucky looks earnest, serious. He puts a scarred hand over his heart. “No sir. Swear on my service tags. You’ve got us all smitten.”

Peter melts. He bites his lip, casting Tony a shy but warm glance. “I—you guys are so nice. I better get back to—yeah—”

They both watch Peter’s ass as he walks away.

“You smooth motherfucker. I need to start taking a page out of your book,” Tony mutters. He rubs his ankle softly against Bucky’s. It’s the most affection they’re willing to give each other out on the floor. Affection is weakness here, and as the guy who runs the floor, Tony knows he has a big target on his chest. He’d rather not make it any bigger. For him, or for Bucky.

It’s nearing ten PM. Lights go out at 9:30, and while not everyone is asleep, the raucous gatherings are contained to individual cells.

Like Tony’s. He is biting his knuckles, panting as Bucky sucks him off. They’ve spent the last hour cuddling in the bunk, running their hands over each other, muttering dirty things between them. He’s been hard for the better part of that hour, and it’s only now that Bucky has shown mercy on him, tugging him up to sit on the edge of the bunk, knees spread wide. He rucks up Tony’s wifebeater over his abs and chest to rub a thumb at one of his nipples, causing his cock to jump.

“Let’s give a show, baby, huh?” Bucky whispers before swallowing him down. Tony jolts, barely managing to cut off the groan that builds up in his throat.

Bucky gives head with enthusiasm and without shame, probably because he looks so fucking hot without his inhibitions, and he knows it. Eyes closed like Tony’s cock is the tastiest thing he’s ever had in his mouth, Bucky drools and chokes himself, sometimes pressing Tony’s cock up so that he can mouth at the older man’s balls, taking them into his mouth one at a time.

Tony holds off his orgasm for as long as he can. He loves this, loves how aroused Bucky gets from sucking cock, whining around it, one hand reaching between his own legs to jerk himself off.

Then comes the light. It blinds Tony whose eyes are accustomed to the darkness. He gasps, jerking backwards in horror at being caught, but Bucky’s hands grab his hips and wrench him forwards, taking him deeper.

There comes a gasp, high and effeminate.

Peter.

The flashlight fumbles and clicks off, but Tony doesn’t hear the footsteps move away. His eyes readjust to the darkness, and he sees Peter’s form standing in the doorway, one hand up to press against his mouth.

Bucky chokes himself, swallowing around the head of Tony’s cock, and something about being watched—being watched by Peter—has Tony gasping, fisting Bucky’s long hair and fucking into his throat as he cums. He barely manages to keep his eyes open through the pleasure, because now he can just make out the dim form of features on Peter’s face, eyes half-closed, and knuckles clutched between his teeth.

He likes what he sees.

“Jesus, baby,” Tony whispers, stroking Bucky’s hair. The man stands up, pants slung to his ankles, fisting his naked cock furiously. The low cots mean that when he cums with a groan, he stripes Tony’s chest with it, and he loves it, fucking loves marking and being marked by Bucky. “You wanted to give Peter a show, huh?”

The sound Peter makes is tortured. He turns and nearly sprints away, perfunctorily walking down the rest of the cells, glancing in to make sure no one is smoking or hoarding blankets or any other thing.

They sit side by side on the bunk, panting.

“All part of the plan, handsome,” Bucky mutters, pressing a tender kiss to Tony’s forehead.

“Petey came to my cell last night,” Toomes says the next day. The guard on duty is in Tony’s palm, so Tony smokes unabashedly and without fear of repercussions, flicking his ash in a neat pile next to him, because littering isn’t cool.

He isn’t sure what his facial expression says, but he hopes its as stony and unbelieving as he feels. “Good for you, Toomes. Did you finally get that suck job you wanted?”

The other man scoffs, waving away Tony’s accusations. “He’s too skittish for that. But he saw me reading. Frankenstein. Did you know he’s a big reader, Tony?”

Tony didn’t know. He tries not to let it show how rankled it makes him, that there is any part of Peter that this vulture has picked off before Tony or Bucky.

“Maybe you can start a book club,” Tony suggests.

Beside him, Rhodey snorts into his cards.

“He’s full of shit, Tony. You know that,” Bucky soothes. He’s sitting on Tony’s cot, freshly showered, watching Tony pace, cigarette clutched between his lips. The younger man is getting a tan from his time spent out in the sun picking up trash. For a fair skinned, fair eyed man, he tans surprisingly well. Tony certainly appreciates the aesthetic.

“He’s not. Not about this, at least,” Tony mutters. “Peter waved to him tonight at dinner when you were getting your tray. I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to look at Toomes with a pleasant expression. I can’t unsee it.”

“You poor thing,” Bucky says, sounding not at all sympathetic. “Look, the kid’s worked here for three days. This is his fourth fucking shift. Seduction takes time. You always do this—if something you want doesn’t fall into your lap right away, you get mopey. Where’s the Tony you always talk about, the one who had patience, who worked hard to reap rewards?”

“Worked real hard to reap my dad’s money, you’ve got that right,” Tony mutters. “You suck at pep talks, snowflake.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Then how about I just console you?”

Tony takes the cigarette from his mouth and points it at him. “Now you’re talking.”

It’s nearing two in the morning. Peter has been by a handful of times, face red when he glances into their cell. Bucky and Tony jerked each other off hours ago—shame he missed it—and have spent the rest of the evening sitting on the cot talking. Bucky does push-ups. Tony admires the view.

“I’m out of smokes,” Bucky says. He means pot—Tony doesn’t partake, but on night when Bucky does, sleeps easier and wakes more rested. “I need more papers.”

“I got ‘em baby.”

“Thanks, Tony.”

Tony can get anything into prison. It’s about greasing the guards—and he makes sure to know which ones squeak and which ones don’t. Then he keeps them well, well lubricated. Whenever someone needs something (matches, drugs, porn, other contraband), Tony is the guy who gets it. But he’s not dumb enough to be the guy who keeps it. That’s on the straw men Tony keeps around the block. One houses the rolling papers. Another has the pot. There’s a cellphone in the cell beside Tony. And if there are shakedowns with guards Tony doesn’t have under his thumb, those men agree to take the fall, and Tony agrees to make it up to them.

It’s late and dark, most people actually asleep now. Tony feels his way down to the cells to the guy who’s housing the papers for joints. The guy snores to wake the dead, but Tony doesn’t care, letting himself in and going to the designated location.

It’s on his way back that he hears the noise.

Voices.

He’d ignore them—some guys will stay up all night talking—but one of those voices is too high.

It’s panicked, too.

Breathing heavier, he takes care to muffle his steps. He isn’t wearing shoes, and that makes him vulnerable in a fight, but he’s held his own in worse situations. The element of surprise will be instrumental in coming out on top—if he needs to. Keeping his breaths quiet, he follows the sounds to the showers, empty but still smelling damp and faintly of soap.

It’s definitely Peter’s voice.

There are windows here that let in the moonlight. Tony stands in the shadow of the doorway, watching and listening.

“Come on, Adrian, quit—”

“You come on, Petey. I’ll make it good for you. It’s got to be tough, being around all the men on the block, being flirted with all the time. Gets a kid hot and bothered I bet, huh? You’re a hot little thing. I saw the way you looked at me last night. I’m here for you, honey. You can use me—”

“I don’t want to. I could lose my job.”

“I’ll take it to the grave, Pete, I swear.”

Peter is pressed against the tiled wall between two showerheads. Adrian is pinning him there with his body, and the size difference is drastic. Peter is so fucking tiny and frail looking, eyes huge and frightened, hands clenching and unclenching even though he has a fucking weapon, come on Pete, pull your baton, your taser, your fucking gun—

Adrian’s hand drifts from where it’s caressing Peter’s jaw. It presses against his chest, fingering the buttons down Peter’s dress blues, and then palms the young man’s cock.

Tony sees red. He wishes he had the shiv he keeps hidden on the floor, but there’s no time to search for it in the dark, and he can make do without it anyway. Get Adrian down and then pull Peter’s baton, beat Toomes again and again and again until the man eats his meals through a straw or not at all.

“I said no, Toomes.” Peter grabs the man’s wrist and twists it expertly. With a strength Tony didn’t know could be contained in such a tiny form, he switches their positions to press Toomes’s face into the wall, grinding it against the tiles. The man struggles but Peter is holding strong, lithe little muscles bulging as he kicks the man’s legs apart so he can’t get proper leverage to push him away. Then he grabs his cuffs, and in a heartbeat, the larger man is subdued. “I tried to be nice, didn’t I? No means no, asshole.”

He wrenches Toomes away from the wall and they both turn to see Tony standing there. They all look at each other, mouths open. Then Tony lifts his hands and brings them together softly, a standing ovation.

“I’m not going to lie,” he says breathlessly. “I’m a little hard right now.”

Peter scowls. “Not now, Tony. Go press the button to let the other guards know I need help.”

“No can do, sweet thing. But it looks like you’ve got it covered for yourself.”

Peter does, frog marching Toomes across the floor and out of the Block. Tony watches it all with an incredulous expression. And a chub. Even after they’re gone, he stands on the quiet, dark floor, pondering what he’s seen. When Bucky puts a hand on his shoulder, Tony nearly jumps out of his own skin.

“What happened?” he asks. “Was that Peter I heard?”

“Oh Buck. You won’t believe this yarn I’m going to spin you.”

Toomes doesn’t return to the block. More than likely, he is shifted to another block with more violent offenders. They tend to group inmates based on the charges against them and their charge history. Tony wonders what exactly he’ll be charged with now. Attempted assault of a police officer? It sounds delicious. Whatever the punishment, it will be too good for him.

Bucky is torn up. Coming home from war has left him sensitive to certain aggressions, and he often feels things too keenly. Takes things too personally. “No means no,” he says, voice thick, faced press into Tony’s neck as he holds him. “Why don’t people listen? No means no.”

“We know that. They know that too. They just don’t care, baby. We’ll see Pete tomorrow and find out how he’s doing.”

Bucky lifts his head. His eyes are cloudy and distant “Tell me again how he roughed up Toomes.”

“With pleasure,” Tony purrs. “He’s so goddamn petite, but his hiding some serious muscles under that uniform. God, it had me worked up, the way he knocked Toomes’s legs apart. The snap of the cuffs. When we get out of here, snowflake, we need to invest in a pair of those.”

Bucky snorts, but he looks pleased.

Part of Tony worried that Peter wouldn’t come in for his shift. He wouldn’t blame the kid; he’d almost been assaulted on the job. The guards had it tough. If it wasn’t sexual harassment, it was physical intimidation—the latter of which Tony himself had been guilty of. But he shouldn’t have underestimated their boy.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Peter says shyly. He’s got his hands on his narrow hips, but Tony knows that those fingers are long enough to wrap all the way around a man’s wrist, wrenching it back.

“How are you?” Bucky asks when Peter comes by.

Peter smiles, soft and gentle. “I’m okay, Bucky. How are you?”

“Better, now that I’ve seen your handsome face.”

Peter blushes, so susceptible to Bucky’s lines. Then he turns his eyes to Tony, and they grow colder. He barely nods recognition before strutting away. Tony can’t even appreciate the way the tight pants hug his ass, because he’s too busy with his mouth agape, jerking a thumb at the boy’s back and asking Bucky, “What did I do?”

That night they are waiting up for Peter the first time he makes his rounds. They decide to sit on the floor so as to be as non-threatening as possible (Peter went through a fucking ordeal yesterday, and they aren’t looking to add to his stress), Tony with his back against the edge of the cot and Bucky propped up against the wall, one foot flat on the floor and the other tickling Tony’s thighs. Yes, the bunks are that small.

As soon as Peter’s light shines in, Bucky calls for him gently.

Carefully, he steps into the room, shining the light towards the ceiling to cast a glow over all of them. His face is somber, but he smiles.

“Hey Bucky. What do you need?”

Bucky doesn’t beat around the bush. “We want to know if you’re really okay. Tony told me about Toomes. That guy’s a fucking piece of work. Hope some guys up on B Block crack his skull in—won’t be no skin off society’s nose.”

Peter shakes his head. “That’s not a good way to talk. That’s not justice. I’m doing fine—Toomes wasn’t hard to subdue.”

“You handled him like a pro,” Tony adds.

Peter’s look frosts over. “Like a police officer, yes. No thanks to you.”

Tony groans. “Is that why you’re mad at me? Because I wouldn’t go press the button for you, baby?”

“Don’t call me that. And yes. I thought we were—” Peter doesn’t finish. He blushes, obviously knowing how silly that sentence sounds: a CO being friends with an inmate. But it cuts Tony all the same, and Bucky’s look across the room is murderous.

“You didn’t try to get help? What the fuck, Tony.” His foot lashes out and catches Tony in the shin, and fuck that stings!

“I’m not a snitch,” Tony snaps.

“Look, I’ll leave you both to this—”

“I was going to handle it if Peter couldn’t—I was going to kill that son of a bitch. That’s how things work in here, you know that Bucky. This isn’t the military. There’s no honor or morals. There’s just rules, and the number one rule is no snitching. If there’s a problem, we handle it this way.”

Peter swallows. “Tony—you can’t just say that. I can’t—I’ve got to tell somebody that you said that, I think.”

“This place doesn’t have honor, but we do,” Bucky growls. “Or at least, I thought you did.”

“You know I’d have killed for him,” Tony says through his teeth. “Just like how I’d kill for you—”

“Would you fucking stop it?” Peter hisses. It’s like a bucket of cold water dumped over them to hear him curse. His grip has gone white on his flashlight he’s so tense, lips pressed into a thin, furious line. “Why are you two doing this? Is it—is this just to, to fuck with me? I don’t get it, I—”

All the anger seeps out of him. He looks lost, tortured. Both of the angry men in front of him soften. What is it about this boy that melts them like wax under flame? Bucky shuffles up onto his knees, looking with his long hair like some knight from an old medieval story, begging for forgiveness of his fair lady.

“Pete, we didn’t mean to come on so strong. Please—will you sit for a bit?”

Peter glances back at the floor. It is dark and mostly quiet, some laughter coming from a cell further down the line. “I shouldn’t,” he says. “I need to do my job.”

“We won’t keep you here, if you want to leave. We aren’t like Toomes. But if you’re willing, we’d like to talk. Work this out.”

Looking torn, Peter sits. Tony and Bucky flank him, but the boy doesn’t look threatened in the slightest, just hunches himself over to rest his elbows on his knees. “Okay. Go ahead and talk,” he says.

“Bucky and I are together.”

Peter snorts. “I got that when I saw him sucking you off.”

Tony blinks. “Oh. Well that happens in here every now and again—some men will do anything in here for company, even if they don’t really swing that way on the outside. But Bucky and I—we’re pretty in love.”

“Yeah,” says Bucky. “He’s dumb. But I love him.”

Peter laughs a little. “Okay. Yeah. So you two are together.”

“We’re polyamorous,” Tony admits. “That means we have a lot of love to give and aren’t unopposed to giving it to multiple people at once. Bucky here, he’s got a boyfriend down the line, Steve—you know Steve?”

“I know Mr. Rogers. He seems nice.”

“He’s real nice,” Bucky smirks. “Our point here is that up until now, we’ve had passing flings with other people, but we’ve never shared anyone. We’ve never wanted to share anyone—until you. And now it’s like our stupidity has squared itself, because we both are falling over ourselves to try to attract you.”

He’s glad he’s letting Bucky take the lead. Tony might have a way with words, but Bucky absolutely has tact and softness that Tony can’t muster up in his wildest dreams. Peter is sitting between them looking red-faced but thoughtful. “So, what? You guys both want to date me?”

“We can’t exactly set up a table with a cloth and wine and dine you, princess,” Tony says. He tries to stay soft and honest, because his mother always used to say that honesty is the best policy. Peter looks like the kind of kid who would appreciate that. “As unfortunate as that is. I’ve got five months left on my sentence, and Bucky has almost double that. And as—what is it Bucky? Thirsty?—as thirsty as we both are, we understand that you wouldn’t want to put your job in jeopardy.”

Peter looks relieved by their admission. “I don’t really know how I feel, to be honest. You’re both—wow, you’re both really hot. Duh. But I don’t know you. Maybe I could get to know you? A little at a time? And once you’re out Tony, if I’m not seeing anyone, we could go out? There’s…” Peter swallows. “There’s definitely chemistry here.”

“Yeah, kid, I feel that,” Tony says.

“We don’t want to pressure you,” Bucky emphasizes, shooting Tony a look overhead that says keep it in your pants. They’ve been seeing each other in here long enough to have reached the telepathic portion of their relationship, thanks. “You’re already promising more than we could have hoped for. And we really appreciate you sitting down and talking things out with us. That’s never easy, doll.”

The younger man blushes prettily, shrugging. He stands. “I really should get back to work.”

“Okay, kid. Whatever you need to do,” Tony agrees. He shifts, hard in his sweatpants, the proximity to his lover and his maybe, possibly, someday lover has sweat beading at the nape of his neck and his imagination running wild. Peter’s eyes track his movements and then fall to his lap.

He licks his lips.

Honest to god.

“I—wait for me. Just—” Peter disappears, flashlight bobbing as he continues down the line. They can hear him popping his head in to a cell further down and telling the guys to please be respectful of the other inmates, thanks!

“Buck,” Tony groans. They smash together with no finesse, both of them stressed and horny from their confrontation with Peter. They taste like mint toothpaste they used before lights out, and Tony licks into the younger man’s mouth unabashedly, sucking on his tongue, licking at his teeth. “God, I need you,” he whispers.

“Take me,” Bucky urges. “Come on, baby. Take me.”

They shed clothes like they’re on fire. Tony folds Bucky’s legs up—for a large guy, he’s surprisingly nimble—and lowers his mouth to Bucky’s ass, licking a hot stripe over his hole and to his balls. He hears the hiss above him, the groan muffled by a fist in his mouth. Not for the first time, Tony hates prison. He hates that they have to be quiet, that they can’t let themselves go and love each other properly, just hushed romps like this in the middle of the night.

“What do you think he meant?” Bucky pants, fingers clenching on Tony’s hair. “Wait for me?”

There is a whispered groan from the doorway. They both turn to see Peter there, leaning against the bars, eyes heavy. “I meant wait, but I get it. God, I get it. You’re both so, wow, god.”

“He’s eloquent,” Tony says. They shift on instinct, turning so as to give Peter a better view. He turns off his flashlight and it takes time for their eyes to adjust to the darkness. Peter stands with his back to the wall, hands clasped behind his back like he’s in handcuffs.

“I can’t—I can’t do anything,” Peter pants. “But I could watch. If you wanted me to.”

“Do you want to?” Bucky asks.

“God yes,” Peter breaths, voice high. One hand palms at his crotch. His uniform has him blending in to the darkness, but they can guess what he’s doing, and fuck that turns Tony on, like there’s fire in his blood. He goes back to eating Bucky’s ass, pressing a thumb against the rim to hold him open so he can slip his tongue inside.

“Jesus, Tony,” Bucky says. “Fuck me. Just fuck me, come on.”

Tony is in full agreement. It’s too much; they’re all too worked up. The sounds from Bucky, the sounds from Peter, the taste of his lover in his mouth—his cock feels fit to burst as he pulls it from his sweats. He doesn’t dare pump it for fear of blowing his load right away. God this isn’t going to be the best performance to share with their new love, but he hopes that Peter can forgive him if he comes off as a three-pump-chump.

He presses in slow. Bucky is still soft and pliant from their fucking the night before, and there’s no discomfort on his lover’s face even when he bottoms out. Bucky’s legs wrap around him and he urges Tony forward with his heels and voice: “Come on, baby. Fuck me. Give it to me. Put on a show.”

Tony knows just how Bucky likes it. There’s no holding back, just the brutal thrusting of his hips that has Bucky giving off choked noises, one hand pressed firmly over his mouth and the other scrabbling at the sheet on the cot. It only takes a moment for Tony to glance over and see Peter, hand flashing in the darkness as he jerks his own cock through his dress blues, and Tony is mounting the crest, balls contracting, stomach tensing.

Bucky blows first, untouched. Tony barely gets a fist around him when he realizes what’s happening, pumping furiously to help his lover through it. Then he is there himself, grip maybe too tight around Bucky’s cock, hips snapping desperately while he blows his load. It feels like it lasts forever. Was over so, so quick.

Even when they’re done, panting, sandwiched together, they hear Peter: breathy little whines from across the room. He stops jerking himself off when they stop lazily and lovingly grinding their hips together, but it’s obvious by the unconscious swaying of his hips that he didn’t cum.

“Take care of him,” Bucky mutters, pressing a kiss to Tony’s sweaty temple. “Get on your knees for him.”

“Yes,” Tony gasps. His cock slips free of Bucky, still tingling pleasantly. He walks on his knees the few feet it takes to be at Peter’s feet, staring up at his tortured expression.

“I can’t,” Peter gasps. “I can’t do anything. That’d be wrong—”

“Then don’t do anything, Officer,” Tony purrs. He reaches a hand up and rubs at Peter’s cock. The kid keens softly, thrusting his hips out even as he grips uselessly at the wall. He’s desperate for relief, desperate to get away. Tony bats his eyes, though no one can see in the dark. “Let me do the work, sir. Please?”

Peter swallows hard. He nods frantically, and that’s all Tony needs to undo Peter’s belt, wrench down his dress slacks and boxers. He doesn’t even get a good look at the kid’s cock, just swallows him down. It’s a nice mouthful, and he has to work to get the last inch or so, taking the head just into his throat. “I’m—I don’t want to hurt you,” Peter gasps.

Tony swallows.

Peter cums. Tony barely manages to pull back, desperate to taste him on his tongue. One hand comes up to work at Peter’s twitching cock, the other cradling his balls to help prolong his pleasure. The kid sounds like he’s never cum before in his life, hands gripping at the concrete wall, giving tiny aborted thrusts, mouth open and panting.

“Thank you, Officer,” Tony says, voice a little distorted from deep-throating. Peter slumps down the wall, knees shaking, until they’re kneeling across from each other. Tony can’t help it, he laughs a little. “You didn’t need to be worried about hurting me, baby. That wasn’t my first blowjob.”

It’s Peter’s turn to chuckle. “I did have good reason to be worried.” He cuts himself off, like there was more he was going to say, but stopped himself.

“What is it, doll?” Bucky asks. He’s lounging on the bed, watching them with lazy, sated eyes. He’s so fucking handsome, Tony crawls across the floor to kiss him and press the last of Peter’s cum into his mouth. The other man moans appreciatively.

“It’s kind of a crazy story,” Peter admits.

“We know a thing or two about crazy,” Tony says. “Try us.”

Peter’s clenches his hands together tightly. “It’s weird, actually. It has to do with a spider.”

Bucky and Tony share a glance, equal parts confused and amused. Tony settles in, leaning his head to rest on the cot beside Bucky. “Go on then,” he says. “We’re listening.”

Tag list: @crown-filth

#winterironspider #starker #winteriron #prison #drugs #violence #cagewrites

541 notes · View notes

stimmypaw · 4 years ago

Text

stimmypaw reads the apprentice’s quest, a blog post

A big one, just a bunch of thoughts as I’m reading it, of course, lots of spoilers for the first book in the Warrior Cats series A Vision of Shadows. This will be covering just the first book tho, it’s all in the Read More, let’s gooooooo!!!!

Vision Of Shadows time

Lots of new cats!!! I don't remember these guys as kits or anything wrow!!! I like their names but itll take a while to get used to them

Also cant believe they printed stormcloud's dead name

Omg there's a cat named beepaw

I love these cats all of them so much im going 2 cry

All new names are perfect

I FORGOT HOW GORGEOUS THE CAT VIEW IN THE RECENT BOOKS WAS, LOVE IT LOVE IT LOVE IT

I'm glad leafpool smokes weed

I love reading from Jayfeather's point of view, his grumpiness hasn't grown on me ever but thats just me, I still enjoy it lots he's great and its fun

Firestar and Leopardstar's characterizations are On Point i love it

OOF i feel so bad when jayfeather is mean to others, poor kestrelflight, I love those two

Lovely Jayfeather moments now its time for the first chapter

I like this duo! Also I didn't think I'd ever say this but shut up squirrelflight one can have fun AND learn with their mentors

Sparkkit sounds nice she makes jingling bell noises when she walks around

Alderkit is chadphobic /j

I can see Alderkit taking deep breaths to relax its rotating in my mind its beautiful

God this first chapter feels so good and comfortable, like eating noodles and chicken nuggets. I am so so deeply in love with it, its gorgeous!

Sparkkit is so perfect too, and Graystripe remembering Firestar aaaaaa

DUSTPELT SAID WHAT? PHDHAHAHHA OH NOOOO I don't remember their relationship much, must have been fun, I love young little creature squirrelflight I MISSED HER SO BAD WOW

I started reading the second chapter and died, I think ill take a break now 2 sleep heehhee

I love them describing twoleg stuff its always so fun and alien, like watching an animal planet show about funny sea creatures.

Also I have determined sparkpaw is my favorite, might be my favorite cat ever next to hollyleaf??? I really identify with her and also she's autistic i have decided that

Alderpaw baby noooo hhhh their mentor at least is trying to show its okay, he seems very emotionally distant so far and alderheart feels very emotionally needy, actually both of them do, did I mention I love Sparkpaw??? I might be imprinting myself 2 much on her

I love how like, its clear both of them are absolutely anxious and worried about others opinions on them, which is clearly something they got from being Firestar's grandkids, deputy kids and leader kids. And bramblestar too, I recall him being quite the anxious lad ahhah. Sparkpaw will be showing confidence and being loud but the second anyone isn't approving of her or she does something "wrong" she gets small and quiet, and she ended up setting a high bar for herself by being good at hunting and fighting so I'm curious to see how that will go. Also there's nothing wrong with being guided through a crowded place to meet others Sparkpaw!!! I bet the two of them would be stuck without not knowing how to talk to others had Needlepaw not shown up. I love them, my gf is mocking me saying I'm a Sparkpaw kinnie.

Apprentices will like learn about a thing and tell everyone about it all the time and assume its always true in every situation and thats valid I love kids like that. Also in my head Needlepaw kinda looks like a porcupine. Oh boo she's fatphobic >:(

I love apprentices they are so fun and silly, just making fun of the leaders like its nothing. The way they are clearly learning and absorving everything their warriors say and do like sponges its just ***chefs kiss***

Omg shadowclan is just full of 12 year olds help

And then the old person said "it sure is hard being old!" And everyone clapped

Shout-out to pretty Riverclan apprentice #481977 I love her

Leafpool: 👁👁

Alderpaw: I knew it im cursed and awful and terrible and I will never amount to anything

I wish the cats didn't seem to be giving up on him so easily though

Ah yes the classic thunderclan move "you suck, into the medicine hole you go"

The way sparkpaw changes the things she says and how she does when it isn't the status quo around her oooooooooooooyeaaaaaaa I love 1 autistic cat

Alderpaw considering your problems lesser than other cats won't help you deal with them better bro

I love Needlepaw's excitement about Alderpaw being a medicine cat apprentice, and her sarcasm, she feels like a preppy teenager

Ahhh this is so good, I am so thirsty for family moments like this, just Alderpaw bonding with grandma, I’ll definitely want to draw this one it’s so sweet.

Oh to be young and silly.

I really am enjoying like, Alderpaw’s struggles to seeing how he fits in the clan, how he fits in himself, how he wants to be seen and what he wants to be, it’s really good. I Am Engaged(tm) With This Plot.

SPARKPAW NOOOOOOO but also Yes I want her to be shown vulnerable and weak please

POP, god watching this stuff always awful, the cats must have thought he broke her ahahah

Also, really great that they learned from Dovewing and now like leave choices and discussions about prophecies between adults

And plus Brambles seemed to take the time to explain stuff to him, seems he wont be going alone either the 1 thing is that he will be the only one knowing what the journey is really about, why though??? I didnt read Firestar's Quest or whatever why does Skyclan need to be secret??? Seems quite silly really!

YESSSS SANDSTORM GET HIS ASS FIGHT FIGHT LOVE THIS LOVE SANDSTORM

I could feel squirrelflight nearing explosion here, this was very fun, i wish they werent hiding this though!!!

The secret thing is showing to be a plot point so I am once again Very Engaged

Also, wonderful dialogue bit, someone asked Bramblestar why an Elder is going and:

Lovely perfect perfect

I miss you dovewing

SQUIRRELFLIGHT LOVE YOU

Oh boy this is it

Traveling book moment

Graystripe: Soooo you're excited to go on the journey to the old territories and Skyclan?

Sandstorm: Yes! It's been ages and-

Graystripe: I'm sure the tribe will love the visit too

Sandstorm, groaning: Oh noooo I forgot about how the tribe is in the way of every journeyyyyy noooooo they're such a racist caricature, please tell me you have a plan

Graystripe: Yes don't worry about it the writers forgot about the tribe in my comic book so you can just use the excuses i did to actively avoid it

Sandstorm: Oh thank Starclan

Sparkpaw's desperation to prove herself oof, her anxiety with understanding the prophecy, oh boy, and Alderpaw feeling too overwhelmed by the questions and not managing to talk!!!! I am so glad they are both autistic

Hoping "Being Leader" wont mean theyre putting nonsense responsibility on the apprentice again

Ah good Sandstorm is on the lead again, as she should, she should have been leader she would have been great

I can't believe Alderpaw thinks I look stupid and diseased :( /j

Everything about this twoleg scene was scandalous I loved it, Sparkpaw just toppled over a trash bag and they are eating from it, iconic, also did those twolegs throw out a whole turkey? Damn

Its not that Sparkpaw is freakishly good at hunting she is very hungry and constantly on the watch for things to eat

BRO Ive never been in a road where the drivers are this wild, throwing bottles out of the car????? Ive seen Fruit being thrown like once or twice, what the fuck!!! I'm glad they are going to wait until the morning to continue

Okay I was not expecting Needlepaw to show up this girl is chaotic I love her

ACTUALLY YEAH WHY DIDNT THEY TELL THE OTHER CLANS ABOUT THIS SINCE THE PROPHECY IS ABOUT ALL THE CLANS???

Needlepaw is like Rono from Bambi 2 if he wasnt a mean bully and thats very epic

Very curious character though, how come her mentor isnt teaching her the warrior code properly? Is that an issue with all apprentices?? Is the clan overwhelmed by 12 year olds and they won?

Having lots of fun trying to play the game "what animal are they describing this time" the erins made here, im glad they're in a farm. Worried about Sandstorm though :c

Fuck im worried about sandstorm a lot, her wound hurt on Me

Yeah water is good youre right sandstorm

Aw man I hope she's okay let her at least survive to meet skyclan please

NOOOOOOOO SANDSTORMA A AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Sandtteooonrjrbbbmmnnnnnnnnnn

I am so sad

Alderpaw denying it, Starclan shining upon their vigil, everything crushed me i cried

Alderpaw considers Nihilism

Haven't seen a cat thank starclan for prey in a while its

Oh look they time skipped a journey! They don't tend to do that thats nice

I'm so excited to be meeting The Skyclan that everyone in the fandom knows now

So far they seem kinda mean but thats most clans at first glance really

Okay somethings up

I uh have heard of Darktail pretty sure he's a bad guy so yeah something really bad happened to Skyclan

Am worried

Darktail sounds like an evil himbo* i may be enjoying him actually

*himbos are usually nice by default so he's just evil and stupid and strong

Does needletail know these cats already?????

Shit

Oh okay fuck

I've been quietly reading the rest because I am just concerned and I want them to be okay as quickly as possible

Waterfalls are a classic nice

Oh boy time for our unlikely duo of Alderpaw and Needlepaw to get out of a Mess!

I did not expect this to end up with the two of them journeying into parenthood, but I'm happy it did

Well actually I'm very unhappy theyre so lost and there's no sign of Skyclan I am very worried for everyone involved Sparkpaw must be feeling awful!

Twigkit is a great name

Yeah this ended terribly

Overall! Frigging loved it this book was GOOD and a great start for the series I am very excited to read the rest, SO WORRIED ABOUT SKYCLAN THO AAAA the characterizations were great the characters were great the pacing was fun and I didn't get bored once!

I think o only wish I had read this sooner really so I could look up others thoughts without getting heavily spoiled about the last books, I can watch a few videos already though thats a start ahhaha. But yeah it was great and it felt very good to read, haven't swallowed up a book so quickly in a very long time!!! Very happy I finally got my hands on this 💕💖💕💖💕💖 cant wait 2 start the next one

If you read all this, hope you had fun hahaha, ill be making more of these cus theyre fun and I like talking about warrior cats thats just my thing

Til next time

#wc #the apprentice's quest #warrior cats #a vision of shadows #avos #warrior cats avos #avos wc #wc avos #avos warrior cats #warrior cats a vision of shadows #alderpaw #needlepaw #sparkpaw #violetkit #twigkit

2 notes · View notes

thisstableground · 5 years ago

Note

Okay, a bird gets in through the window of their apartment and can't get out (because it's panicked), and now it's flying everywhere *except* back through the open window. How do they deal with it?

(this is an early relationship fic bc i’m in that kinda mood right now)

edit: also on AO3! please leave a comment if you liked it!

“Looked like Vanessa was dolling herself up real cute for your lunch date when I went up on break,” Usnavi says. “And me stuck here at the store while you guys have all the fun without me.”

“You don’t mind, do you?” Ruben asks, concerned. “I don’t wanna, y’know, get in the way of things.”

“She’s your girlfriend too,” Usnavi says, charitably ignoring the panicked balloon-deflating noise Ruben makes: the g-word is still a very new development. “I just miss you both when I can’t come with you.”

“We’ll be done in a couple hours.”

“I know, it’s so long.” Usnavi says, tragically. He picks up his cell from where it’s vibrating insistently on the counter. “Oh! She misses us too! Hey, Vanessa!”

His smile disappears as she responds: from where he’s standing, all Ruben can hear is a bunch of incoherent yelling and shrieking from the other end. His heartrate instantly triples. It might have shattered a rib or two.

Usnavi grabs the creased piece of laminated paper under the counter that reads “back in five minutes/vuelta en cinco minutos!!” and is saying “ ¿qué pa—Vanessa, cálmate, I don’t – what’s happening?” as he runs to stick it to the door and click the locks closed. Even from several feet away, Ruben hears Vanessa’s voice yell “JUST GET YOUR SKINNY ASS UP HERE RIGHT NOW!”

He hightails it after Usnavi up the back stairs to the apartment. “What was that?!”

“No sé, I couldn’t tell, it sounded like she said someone came into the apartment-”

“What?!” He doesn’t even have time to panic about it: they crest the top of the stairs and almost crash directly into Vanessa standing outside Usnavi’s front door. She’s dripping wet and wearing only a towel, trying to look in through the peephole despite that decidedly not being how peepholes work.

“Vanessa!” Ruben goes instinctively to check on her then hastily averts his eyes to the ceiling when he registers what she’s wearing, because yes, he saw her naked last night but he’s still polite. “Oh, uh—“

Usnavi shrugs out of his shirt to drape around Vanessa’s shoulders and hugs her close. “Amorcita, what happened, are you okay?”

“No, I am not okay!” she says furiously. “I was in the shower and a fucking bird came in and chased me out here!”

“Wait, a bird? You were just screaming because of a bird?” Ruben catches Usnavi’s eye and both of them instantly burst into laughter, which is mostly from relief and is also exactly the wrong thing to do.

“Oh, so it’s funny is it?” Vanessa says, looking about as murderous as anyone with shampoo bubbles in their hair has ever looked.

“We’re not laughing at you, I promise!” Ruben says, undercut significantly by the fact that to be fair, he is still laughing. “We’re just relieved it wasn’t anything dangerous.”

“Not dangerous?!” Vanessa hollers. “It could have beaked me!”

“Heyheyhey, we’re cool, we’re cool,” Usnavi says soothingly, making cut it out eyes at Ruben. “Ain’t gonna let nothing run my girl out of my apartment like that. I’ll get the bird, you just wait here with Ruben. Who will not laugh any more,” he adds, severely.

“Laughing? Never even heard of it,” Ruben says.

“....You’ll be careful?” Vanessa says to Usnavi.

Usnavi stands just a little taller at her concern, glowing with chivalrous intent, and says, “no te preocupes, querida, I ain’t afraid of no bird.”

He opens the front door and pauses on the threshold. Ruben can tell there’s triumphant battle music playing in his mind right now, mostly because he’s humming it very quietly to himself while he adjusts his hat before he heads inside.

Three and a bit seconds later, there’s a brief crash and some hollered cursing from the apartment. Usnavi bursts back out into the corridor and scuttles over to the opposite wall, flattening against it like a shadow.

“Guys, I am so afraid of this bird,” he tells them.

“Did it beak you,” Ruben says dryly.

“It nearly did! I tried to ask it to leave and then it–“ Usnavi does a wild flapping motion with his arms and goes skraaaaaa!, his eyes all big in a way that implies see? Do you see how terrifying this is? Ruben tactfully does not inform him that it makes him look like he should be standing outside a car dealership in a heavy wind.

“It was never gonna work, babe, I already tried everything,” Vanessa says. “I tried yelling at it.”

They wait for the rest of it. There is no rest of it. Vanessa shrugs like I mean, what else is there?

“Well, I hope you’re not too attached to this apartment, Usnavi,” Ruben says, and both turn in unison to look at him imploringly. They’re wearing hopeful, expectant Ruben Can Solve Anything expressions, the ones they make before they ask him things about sports or Europe or other arcane and unknowable topics. It makes him want to shout hold on, I’m just a chemist, the only thing I can do to a pigeon is poison it or teach it how to run assays but it also makes him want to go and get a PhD in Please Get Bird Out Of Bathroom so that he can resolve the situation as comprehensively as possible.

He is, he reflects a little sadly, a sucker for providing solutions.

“Alright,” he says, in a firm voice, because it’s either that or let them down. “Usnavi, I need you to go get me a box from the bodega to trap it in.”

Usnavi nods once, solemn-faced like a soldier being given orders, and hurries downstairs. He’s back in short order with an empty Doritos box that he hands over. Ruben makes it all of two cautiously tiptoeing steps into the apartment before Vanessa grabs his arm and pulls him back for a kiss on the cheek that has the resigned air of impending doom to it: we only had the Ruben for two weeks before he was taken by the birds, he imagines her telling people after the fact. I knew we should have had him insured.

Inside the bathroom is much less carnage than he’d expected based on the other two’s reactions. There’s water all over the floor, probably from Vanessa’s hasty exit, and Usnavi’s toothbrush cup has been knocked down into the basin, where it’s clattering around under the feet of a pigeon that Ruben would, scientifically, describe as Oh Boy, That’s Pretty Big Actually. In itself it isn’t all that scary, but in the context of being a pigeon in a places that pigeons usually aren’t it really is quite unsettling. Like how he isn’t in the slightest scared of rats, but still jumps out of his skin and tries to keep a wide berth whenever he sees one in the stairwell of his apartment building. At least it isn’t actively flapping around at the moment.

Ruben casts his eye around but there isn’t a towel in the usual place on the radiator – of course not, Vanessa must have grabbed it on her way out. He sets down the box as he takes his sweater off instead, thanks it silently for its dedication to the cause, and then holds it up in the air, inching closer to the pigeon.

“You could just leave now,” he tries, just in case. “It’ll be easier for both of us.”

The pigeon shuffles around, its talons making scritchy noises against the ceramic of the basin. “Trrr,” it says.

“The window’s right there.” He takes another step closer. “Fine, I guess not. Sorry about this,” and in a quick movement he throws his sweater over it and, using the second of struggling confusion while it tries to get free, scoops the sweater-wrapped pigeon into the box in a move that is significantly more blind luck than animal handling skills.

“Sorry sorry sorry sorry!” he chants, shoving half his body and the box out the window and inelegantly shaking a very confused and unhappy pigeon out into the sky, where it luckily flaps off in distress rather than going right for his eyes so he can bring the box back in and close the window blessedly un-mauled. His sweater is mostly unharmed too, albeit in need of a wash, because pigeons have pretty much one reaction to stress, as evidenced by the rest of the bathroom. He tosses the knocked-over toothbrush straight in the trash because he knows Usnavi won’t even think about putting it in his mouth all covered in bird-germs later, and is bleaching down the basin when he hears a tentative “Ruben are you dead?”

“Somehow I pulled through,” he says.

Usnavi opens the door the tiniest fraction. “Is it still in there?”

“No, I caught it and let it out. No casualties, except your toothbrush.”

Usnavi opens the door properly, with Vanessa peeking over his shoulder, not even pretending she isn’t hiding behind him. When they confirm that the bathroom is safe she stands up straight and both of them beam at Ruben.

“You really did it,” Vanessa says, in a tone of absolute awe while Usnavi kisses him enthusiastically and Ruben, a man who has faced down pain, torture and death, has literally never felt braver or more heroic than he does right now.

#ship: usnavi/vanessa/ruben #fandom: do no harm/in the heights #sophia writes fic #belphegor1982 #im 99% sure i took that 'i tried everything i tried yelling at it' joke from somewhere #damned if i can remember where but its just very vanessa so i had to use it

13 notes · View notes

coffeeandspn · 5 years ago

Text

I’m really, really sorry...

GIF is not mine.

Summary: Castiel hates to celebrate his birthday, and Dean knows that, but he thinks that Cas needs to let go his past, so he surprises him anyways. Things don’t go as planned, and they have a big fight.

Pairing: Eileen x Sam Winchester, maybe Human!Castiel x Dean Winchester

A/N: I’ll write some ACTUAL Destiel scenes only if u guys like this first part and want me to write a second chapter, because there are no mentions of Dean and Castiel having another relationship than just best friends, nor there are mentions on they having feelings for each other, simply because it didn’t fit with the situation..

Rating: Teen and Up.

Warnings: angst, unhappy ending, Dean is an asshole, Castiel is depressed, physical abuse, blood, fights, Castiel’s father is an abusive and drunken asshole, homophobia, language

Words: 1972

It was done. There was no way of coming back in time to change it. Dean was sitting on the kitchen floor, alone. All the lights were out except for a faint one, everybody was sleeping, and there he was… By himself. His sobs were the only thing that filled the silence of the night, and he swore, he could hear Castiel sobbing as well. That made him feel even more miserable. He blamed himself over and over again for his stupid mouth. Couldn’t he just, shut up for one time? No, he had to ruin everything. All the damn time. Sam gave him a disappointed look before going to bed, and Eileen gave him a pity one. Castiel had left like 30 minutes before that, and the look on his face… Dean didn´t even want to remember the way Cas looked at him before storming out of the kitchen, with tears on his face. He went directly to his room, slamming the door. Everyone was silent for a minute or two. Dean didn´t know what to say.

He felt and still feels like an idiot. How could he be so heartless? Why on Earth did Dean think that saying that Castiel was acting just like his father was a good idea? On his goddamn birthday!? Dean was definitely an asshole.

Castiel was doing the best he could, but by the time Dean realized that, it was already too late.

He knew Cas felt tired and sad, that the memories will haunt him forever, he knew basically everything about him, they´ve been friends for over 10 years, but Dean thought that maybe, it was time to let that horrible memory go. He thought that it was time for Cas to actually start living the life he always deserved; a great one.

But Dean doesn’t know shit about how Cas really feels. Because his mother had a great life, and his father wasn´t an abusive asshole, unlike Castiel´s parents. Dean´s family was the typical perfect one, the kind of family everyone wanted.

On his 13th birthday, Castiel´s dad, Chuck, beat his wife to exhaustion because he discovered that his younger son Castiel, was gay, and no one said a word to him. Plus, he was a drunken, a horrible husband and an even more horrible father. He blamed Castiel´s mother because he claimed that ‘’That little faggot bastard came out of YOUR vagina and you raised him to be like that, not me, you fucking whore! Look what you did with my son! He can´t even be my son anymore, not if he likes to suck fucking dicks!’’ His brothers, Gabriel and Michael, that were 16 and 18 by that time, tried to stop him, but Chuck was way stronger than them. Castiel was terrified, he couldn´t even move. When he was done, and had left his mother unconscious on the bloody floor, he tried to catch Castiel, but he luckily reacted quickly and started running as fast as he could. He escaped his house and started screaming for help, which worked, because a few neighbors came out of their houses, and called the police when they realized what was happening. After all, that wasn´t the first fight of the family and Castiel was sure the cops had their address memorized at that point.

The police arrived minutes after, one of the neighbors let Castiel in to their house while Chuck was busy trying to get his drunk ass up from the floor because he fell while he was running behind his son, trying to catch him.

That´s when Castiel met the Winchesters, and that´s when Dean and Castiel´s great friendship started.

The ambulance arrived as well and they took his mother to the hospital as fast as they could. She fell on a coma after that. His father went to prison and killed himself after spending barely six months in there.

Castiel, Michael and Gabriel were sent to an orphanage after that, and visited their mother (and the Winchester family) every day. As they grew older, and their responsibilities bigger, they stopped seeing their mother that often. She never gave any signal of improvement, or waking up, and their hopes started fading. After ten years of being in coma, not even breathing for herself anymore, they painfully decided it was time to let her go.

Today was Castiel´s 25th birthday, the 12th anniversary of his family officially breaking apart, and in two months, the 2nd anniversary of the official death of his mother.

That´s why Castiel hated to celebrate his birthday so much, but Dean insisted on making a surprise dinner for his best friend, alongside with some decorations around the house.

Castiel was drunk when he came home. His clothes and hair were messy, and he smelled like alcohol and cigarettes.

When he saw the decorations, he started swearing and yelling that he didn´t want any of that shit. Sam and Eileen managed to calm him down, and Sam helped him to take a shower, because he could barely walk.

When he sat down at the table to eat, he was incredibly quiet.

Dean, as always, was trying to make things better, so he started talking about his day, and then asked Castiel about his.

‘’How do you think my day went, Dean?’’

‘’I mean… I don´t know, that´s exactly why I´m asking.’’

‘’Well, it was trash. I saw the bloody body of my mother in every corner of my mind the entire fucking day, but thank you for asking though, dumbass.’’

Dean frowned at the insult.

‘’Wow, ok, I´m sorry if your life isn´t perfect, but that´s not my fault and you know it, buddy, so don´t come at me like that, I was just trying to be nice and break the tension in here.’’

Castiel let go the cutlery abruptly and look at him furiously.

‘’If you were trying so hard to be nice, you would´ve started by not doing any of this shit in the first place, because this is no special, nor happy day to me, and you fucking know that!’’

‘’Man, it´s been twelve years! You´ve got to stop tormenting yourself with what happened that day all the time! Do you really want to live your whole life like this? Depressed?’’

‘’Dean…’’ Sam tried to interrupt, but clearly failed when Castiel interrupted him instead.

‘’Are you fucking kidding me, Dean? Do you think I like living like this every damn day? I try so hard to get over it, you have no idea, but it´s impossible when the image of my fucking father physically abusing me, my brothers and my mother, comes to my mind and even haunts me in my fucking dreams all the time!’’

‘’Cas, I know what you´ve been through, but…’’ Dean tried talking softer this time, but that only made Castiel angrier.

‘’NO YOU FUCKING DON´T!’’ He screamed, punching the table and breaking his plate and his glass.

Everyone in the table jumped in surprise and concern. Again, Sam tried to calm things down, but he couldn´t.

‘’Your family was always perfect, your father wasn´t an asshole and your mother lived ‘til you were 20, she was with you through childhood, took care of you, you were able to go to the games with your dad and enjoy a family picnic, so don´t you dare say that you know what I´ve been through, because you absolutely don´t! I´ve been through hell and back and tried to recover millions of times from this, but I just can´t, and you don´t know what real pain is like.’’

Dean got angry as well. Castiel was treating him like he was some sort of perfect commercial guy, and he wasn´t.

‘’You think my life was always perfect? You don´t think my parents had some fights from time to time? You think I don´t know what it feels like losing someone you love, and that should be with you until you´re at least 40 years old? I´ve lost my mom at a pretty young age compared to other people, Castiel!’’

‘’I´ve lost her when I was 13 years old, Dean! And the stupid fights your parents had from ‘time to time’ are NOTHING compared to what I had to witness! Stop trying to minimize my problems with yours, you have no right!’’ At this point, both Dean and Castiel were yelling. Castiel took the already broken glass while he was speaking and threw it, making it break in thousands of little pieces all over the kitchen floor.

‘’You´re acting like an insane, just like your father!’’ Dean yelled. The room went silent.

Castiel´s expression changed from angry to hurt in a matter of seconds.

Sam was hugging Eileen tight, trying to protect her in case things got even more out of control.

Castiel´s blue eyes seemed to be even bluer when the tears started accumulating.

His fist loosened, dropping more small pieces of broken glass to the floor, along with a few drops of blood.

A tear came out of his left eye and rolled down his cheeks. He turned away and disappeared.

Sam and Eileen started cleaning up the mess without saying anything, while Dean was still there, trying to process what just happened.

After it was all clean again, the decorations in the garbage can, and the food in the fridge, Sam said ‘’Dude, you´re an actual asshole, you know that, right? I told you this whole thing was a bad idea. You should’ve known, Dean, you guys are best friends since you´re thirteen… I really hope you go and apologize to him soon. Good night.’’

Sam gave him a disappointed look, and Eileen a pity one. They turned off the lights in their way to their bedroom, leaving just one on.

Dean dropped to the floor devastated, already crying. He couldn´t believe what just happened. After ten minutes of panicking, having no idea how to apologize for the monstrous thing he said, crying and sobbing, he decided to look out for Castiel. He needed to fix this right now. He had no idea if Cas was ever going to forgive him. He hoped he will at some point…

He knocked on Cas’s door, obviously not receiving an answer. After two minutes, he knocked again. Nothing. He sighed, and started talking.

‘’Look, Cas… There’s absolutely nothing I can do right now for you to forgive me, but… I just want you to hear me, please?’’ Dean waited for a response, or for Cas to open the door, but none of those things happened. ‘’Alright, I´ll just start talking from here… I hope you can hear me… I- I wasn’t thinking, man. I´m really, really sorry for what I´ve said, I´m an asshole… I honestly have no excuses, and even if I had, it´s not going to work anyways. I just want you to know that I´m so sorry, I mean it… I hope you can forgive me someday, I… I really don´t want to lose you. Not after all we´ve been through…’’ Dean sobbed, and waited for… Well, anything. A sob, a move, a word. But he couldn´t hear anything at all.

‘’Cas? Man, are you okay?’’

After waiting outside his door for five minutes, he decided to come in.

‘’Hey, dude, I´m coming in, okay? I´m… You´re worrying me…’’

Dean got into the room, only to find Castiel’s window wide open, and the curtain moving softly because of the breeze of the night.

‘’Cas!? Where are you?’’ He started looking everywhere, screaming his name desperately, but couldn´t find him.

Sam and Eileen got up, and asked Dean what was going on.

Dean, with tears in his eyes, and a heavy breath, turned around and looked at the couple.

‘’He´s- He´s gone. I found his window wide open, and I don´t know where he is.’’

11 notes · View notes

fantasiesxwritten · 5 years ago

Text

Brotherly Love

I couldn’t hide the disappoint that was apparent in my voice, no matter how much I forced a smile on my face to make it mirror the same when spoken. Nothing at this point could make me feel like I wasn’t rivaling the trash that we put out at the beginning of our driveway every Friday morning. That’s just how he made me feel each and every time he placed me on the back burner, forgetting me there to burn something serious. That’s how it felt, like the most intense burn one could ever feel; something worse than a third degree burn I imagined as if I’d ever had one.

“Britt, please don’t be sad. And please stop letting that no good bastard make you feel less than you deserve to. You deserve better!” My friend shouted on the other end of the phone, her words gaining my attention but holding no truths for me.

I was involved in my marriage the way any wife should have been, the only destroying factor of it was that he didn’t reciprocate those same efforts. Every night it was a different tune that he sang which came in the form of a different excuse that he expected me to swallow. Like a hard horse pill, it was hard to especially without any means of doing so; his lies were dry, no water was given to ease the pill down. I may as well have been in this marriage by my damn self, at least that’s the way Marquis had set things up and I was just expected to follow suit with no back talk or disagreements allowed.

“I know, Mari. I know. It’s just–”

“It’s just nothing. Girl, do you realize you make excuses for him now? Forget him having to make them for you, you’re all for painting him in this beautiful, misty light where it’s subjective to what he really is. A bastard!” Mari fired on, I could feel the passion that coursed through her tone. She was more passionate than I.

“But, I don’t mean to make excuses for him, Mar. I just love my husband and keep hope alive that things will get better between us. Shit, they just have to..” I thought aloud, thoughts that maybe should have been sealed away inside rather than released outward.

“Boo, I pray you get some sense knocked into you, somehow, some way. Maybe all you need is the attention of another man to see what you’ve been missing all this time.”

I had to giggle lightly at what she’d just said. “Mari, now you’re being ridiculous.”

“No, Britt, I’m being realistic. You’re unhappy right? So, test out the waters. If another man is able to break through and make them cobwebs down there break away, maybe that’s the sign you need to leave this shit in the dust. Just think about it.” She urged, chuckling through inhaling smoke.

“I knew it! Your ass is just high. Goodnight, Marielle. I’m so done listening to your psycho-babble bullshit. Don’t analyze me while you’re toking it up! Call me mañana, okay?” I said more than asked as I pulled the phone from my ear to end the call.

Tossing it onto the sofa beside me, I uncrossed my legs and made my way through our spacious living room and into the kitchen. Wine and what Mari had just said were both undeniably on my mind, the latter playing harder on my emotions than the desire for wine to numb. As I opened the refrigerator, I stopped as I held the door wide open in my hand. Even as I scanned the inside, my mind wasn’t on which wine I wanted to use for my escape tonight, but on whether or not what she said was true. I’d never let the thoughts of another man encompass my mind, but that didn’t hold water to what I might do if given the chance.

Knocks on the door came loudly as I slammed the refrigerator door in preparation for what I’d grown accustomed to with Benjamin. Walking through the house quickly at a pace of haste, I was already cursing him; nearing the door my voice only got louder.

“I can’t wait to hear what the hell you have to say for yourself now, Ben!” I hollered, standing before the door as I began undoing locks, “It better be damn good! I mean Oscar award winning!” I shouted even louder as I twisted the knob and pulled the door open. “What do you have to say for yourself, hmm?” I spat as the door opened to reveal a younger, slimmer and a bit lighter version of Benjamin.

It was his brother, Tyga. My expression must have read just how embarrassed I was as I quickly fled from the scene to make it back into the kitchen. More than anything I needed that glass of wine and now.

He chuckled as he closed the door behind himself, walking after me and into the kitchen. “Sorry to disappoint, Britt. I take it Ben’s not here?” he asked the obvious as he took a seat on one of the four bar stools.

“No, Ty. Your asshole brother is not.” I spat more roughly than intended. Again, attempting at retrieving the wine from out of the refrigerator, this time successful in doing so as I settled on a bottle of Johnny Walker instead.

Without closing the refrigerator, I twisted the top off and turned the bottle up to my lips, swallowing down the brown liquor quickly, not taking a break for breaths. I spotted Ty watching me in amazement from the corner of my eye as I turned the bottle down and slammed it butt first onto the island top.

“What?!” I questioned, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.” He replied as he held his hands up in defense. “Don’t shoot the good guy here. Damn! What has Ben done to you? You used to be the sweetest girl…” Ty mentioned as he leaned and reached over across the island to slowly try and grab the bottle. “May I?”

I nodded, swallowing hard as I slid the bottle into his grasping hands. “Yeah, well I hear its easy for good girls to go bad. Your brother is quite the enabler of that sort of thing.” I was quiet and then I started up, it was as if I had word vomit. I just couldn’t shut up from that point on. “You know, I’m a good ass wife!” I shouted, scaring even myself. “I cook, I clean, I fuck on demand… not that he even cares to know the new things I’ve learned since…” my own mind shut me down before I went any further as I snatched the bottle from resting in his idle hands.

Bringing it back up to my lips, this time I guzzled for seconds longer than I did the first time. Ty had to tilt the bottle down from me, making liquor spill all over my chiffon blouse in the process. “Easy, easy.” He coached.

Where normally I would have been angry about liquor on such an expensive blouse, I found myself laughing about it as I looked down at my stained top. Shaking my head while still finding it funny, I began unbuttoning myself from the bottom up. Ty watched in silence as I did so, not taking a single moment to stop me from doing that. His eyes followed each button as I popped it open, freeing a little bit of skin with each one.

“You owe me.” I said, without looking to him. I shrugged out of it, letting it fall to the floor gently at my feet.

“Let me make it up to you now.”

I didn’t quite catch on as I grabbed the bottle again, turning it up to my lips for a quick swallow before setting it back down. “No, no. You don’t have to pay me back now, it’s not as if I’m going out to the store right away.” I added.

I didn’t even see it happening, I merely felt soft lips against my shoulder; behind me as hands trailed up my naked mid section to my breasts where they rested on them, squeezing softly. The kisses didn’t stop there, they got deeper and harder as he sucked on my skin, bringing out feelings suddenly I forgot I was capable of feeling.

“I wanna make it up to you in ways Ben can’t.” he whispered against my soft skin, kissing his way up to my neck. Slowly his lips moved against me, his tongue darting out occasionally, to suck here and there.

“Wh-what…?” I asked under a whisper as my hands fell flat against the islands countertop to steady myself.

The liquor was playing against me now as it made its way through my veins, sending me buzzing and a little more than that. I gripped the counter tightly as Ty’s hands moved from my breasts down to tuck away inside of my skirt with ease. Once they were inside, he pulled my panties to the side with one hand, using the other to let his middle fingertip trace the outline of my clit in slow circles. Instant shock waves ran through my body as that attention to that area had become something foreign to me. There was so much sexual build up I felt like I might explode as the circles he ran over me became smaller and faster.

“Yessssss…” I hissed out low, naturally grinding my hips against his hand.

He didn’t slow down one bit, as he let that same finger slip down to play in the moisture forming; as soon as I was wet enough, he slipped easily inside of me. His finger probed deeper and deeper into my wet abyss, as I rolled my hips a little wider, while he used his thumb to tease my clit while he did that. Slowly he brought another finger to join the one that played inside of me, both of them curving upward inside of me now. My eyes closed as I took advantage of how good this all felt, chewing on my bottom lip lightly to muffle moans that dared to escape.

“Moan for me. I know you like this shit,” he teased me, gliding his tongue up the back of my neck before be wrapped his lips around a spot to suck on me slowly.

“Mmmmmmm… I like it…” I moaned out as quietly as I could.

“Louder.” He coached as his fingers thrust up into me harder, making slick wet sounds as they ran in and out of me.

“I like it!” I spoke, louder than the time before and with meaning. I meant it, it felt so fucking good. His fingers were beckoning my juices to continue falling down. His fingers were already soaked with them.

“Shit! You’re so fucking wet, B.” Ty mumbled out, his mouth moving now to suck another spot on my neck; his warm breath coming out from his nostrils against my skin was tantalizing for me.

I caved into the countertop now, my mouth open and letting moans fly out freely. A third finger was now inserted inside of me, all three moving inside roughly and as deep as they could possibly go. I had no shame right now as I got finger fucked by my husbands younger brother, in our Victorian remodeled kitchen. He was groaning as he continuously curled them up inside of me, repeatedly gliding over my g-spot; each time he did I thought I might cum all over them.

“FUCK! Fuck me, Ty. Fuck me!” I begged out to him as I rolled my hips harder.

He leaned into me, pressing himself against me to let me feel how hard he was in his pants. “I plan on it. Tell me where…” he whispered lowly, grinding on me.

“Anywhereeee, oh God!” I moaned, biting my bottom lip to get ahold of myself. “The couch!” I concluded on a place, not giving a fuck if it was the canopy on our porch at this point.

My body was craving hard dick right now, it had been far too long. He was able to damn near take me there from his fingers alone, I was drooling inside just thinking about the heights he could take me to from penetration of that kind. In one swift move, he slid his fingers out of me and out from inside my panties and skirt, snatching me up from the counter. Roughly he guided me into the living room where he first came in and tossed me down onto the couch on my back, my legs spreading on their own.

Ty licked his lips in the sexiest way possible as he began to undo his pants before me, making me watch as he did this. As his boxers slowly were pulled down, what I had been waiting to see since he started his teasing was revealed, it was all of what I expected and then some. I felt the walls of my pussy throb and clench for the anticipation of how he would feel; my fingers almost flew down there to fuck myself. That’s how bad I felt I needed to be fucked right now; thoroughly and without mercy. I wanted him to fuck any guilt I could possibly feel right out of me, right along with my orgasm I was positive he could provide.

“Get rid of that fucking skirt.” He commanded with so much force, I felt the bass in his voice shake down between my legs.

I swallowed a moan as I lifted myself up to slide my skirt down over my hips and thighs, ultimately kicking it off. While I rid myself of my panties as well, Ty fished a condom from out of his wallet, moving to put that on his staggering hard on, while he watched me. As soon as I got my panties off, he grabbed at my legs, yanking me in the roughest way down to the edge of the couch. The way he spoke to me was in a way Ben never would, but that’s what I think turned me on even more. Although I was a few years older than he was, he was in complete and utter control and it was so fucking sexy. I would let him control every fiber of my being; connecting us in the middle as we exploded together.

Without warning, he spread my thighs apart even further just before he dipped down and slid right up inside of me, completely. My mouth formed in the shape of an O before a few moans escaped, following him plunging himself in and out of me while he pushed my legs back. Ty looked down between us as he watched his dick disappear over and over inside of me, groaning while he saw the show up close. The way he dug inside of me so slowly, yet so hard had my heart palpitating overtime; the tip of his dick seemed to have perfect standing with the location of my g-spot.

My head was awkwardly perched up against the couch, but a neck cramp was something I gladly welcomed for the sake of his dick beating my pussy up. He would pull all the way out of me to the tip and then slam himself back inside of me, making my body shudder out for him. “AH, SHIT YES!” I screamed out as he did it the last time.

“You like it?” He asked cockily.

“Yes… yes…” I moaned lightly as I grabbed onto the cushions of the couch beside my legs.

“I don’t believe you. I need to believe you..” he warned. I hadn’t known to take it as a warning, so I continued with my light moans in expression for how good it felt.

“B, you can do better than that, can’t you?” He asked with a sly grin across his face.

Without another word, he pulled me down further, making his dick feel as if it had hit somewhere up in my stomach or the middle of my back. I screamed out in a mixture of pleasure and pain and shock; all at once. Ty loved the way the scream flowed from my mouth, it was sincere; he did this motion again. Harder this time, my skin slapping against his as he repeated this, enjoying the look across my face each time he did. After the first few times, the pain essence of it faded and complete pleasure took over.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD! Yes! DO IT AGAIN!” I demanded through gritted teeth as he did it again, so hard it made my teeth chatter together.

I wanted more and much more. His fingers left imprints in my skin as he gripped onto my thighs tighter for support as he continuously pulled me onto his dick that penetrated me deeper than I could ever remember Ben being inside of me. Ty showed absolutely no mercy on my pussy as his pelvis continued to connect to my lower region every time he slammed himself into me. My legs wrapped around his waist, pulling and pulling him to me as I brought my hand to my mouth, sliding two of my fingers inside to suck them.

“Suck them. I wanna see them down your fucking throat..” he announced through clenched teeth as he watched me; his eyes low with lust.

“Mmm,” I moaned as I sucked harder, letting him see how deep I pushed them inside my mouth.

After, I ran my soaked fingers down to my clit where I rubbed it roughly as his eyes now diverted down there to watch me play with myself while he fucked the living shit out of me. This turned him on even more to watch this as he picked up his pace, I didn’t even think he could fuck me any faster let alone harder than he already was. The more he pumped himself inside of me, the more I felt a sweet building up that I couldn’t explain. It was like a moth to a flame, I was drawn to the way it felt, so drawn in fact I was now thrusting myself into him to match his strokes.

“Oh FUCK!” I screamed being caught off guard as the feeling grew stronger. I couldn’t slow down now even if I wanted to, it was as if I was on the edge of my seat for what was to come.

“Fuuuuck. That shit is gushy..” Ty groaned out as he continued to penetrate me to the depths of my pussy. Pulling out slowly before ramming back inside of me roughly.

“Oooooh, Ty! I think.. oh my God! I think.. I’m… ” I couldn’t form a complete sentence to describe what I thought I might be feeling.

“I know, I feel it. Squirt all over me, B. Relax and let yourself go.” Ty coached me for something I’d never experienced let alone heard of before.

All I knew was that whatever he was talking about was coming and it was coming hard. My whole body felt consumed with the feelings that now inhabited my body, my body didn’t even feel like my own right now. My legs began to tremble almost violently as my eyelids fluttered and my hands grabbed at anything they could get ahold of.

“Oh.. Oh.. Ooooooh FUCK ME!!” I screamed out, grinding myself as hard as I could against him while he kept stroking in and out of me; touching the back of me.

“Yessssss, B! Cum for me!”

It was as if his words were a coercion for my orgasm as I felt something push hard, next thing I knew I was in a numbing blissful place, my legs shaking as I screamed to my own surprise while Ty was being pushed out of me, rubbing the tip of his dick over my clit fast while liquid squirted out of me. My whole body tensed up as I lost complete control over all of my senses.

“GODDDDDDDAMMNIT!” I shouted at the top of my lungs while Ty continued rubbing the tip of his dick over me, waiting for my shuddering to subside some.

As soon as it did, I was grabbing for anything to hold tightly to before he forced his dick back inside of me; thrusting quickly as he kept focus on the path to his own orgasm.

“I'ma– I'ma cum, B. Shiiiiit!” He groaned loudly as he pushed my thighs down while he pumped into me, cumming at the same time.

Biting my bottom lip extremely hard as I watched him releasing while inside of me, the front door swung open so fast, it banged up against the wall behind it. Ty had barely finished before the noise and the person appearing there startled us both. The two of us there in the midst of earth shattering sex, Ty with my secretions all over his chest and my husband standing before us both with the worlds greatest dumb struck look on his face.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” He screamed as he looked back and forth between both of us; bare assed and lusty. Adulterers without apologies.

I was still partially shaking from the orgasm I had just succumbed to and Ty was in no position to defend himself either. Both of us in our same positions as before he walked in, unable to speak. In the midst of it all, I began to chuckle; no longer able to contain myself. The look on my husbands face, the shame and the egg that was metaphorically dripping off of it sent me into a giggle fit. He was now confused amongst the other emotions I’m sure he felt.

Mari’s words flashed back into my head and the amount of truth they held, even if I couldn’t see it or understand it then. I now did, and even though I didn’t want to leave my husband for his brother– I wanted to leave him.

Without moving from where we were, I looked to Ben now, “Ben, I want a divorce.”

It was tricky the way life worked; all it took was for one person to unlock and unleash a side of me I didn’t know I had and it was as if I’d had a revelation, a catharsis of some sort. What was unseen before was clear as day now, all because of a little brotherly love.

Author | Kierra Posted | October 2012

#fantasiesxwritten #original story #tyga #kierra #smut #tyga x reader

17 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 years ago

Text

Witness : 13

A Day Out

moodboard created by @chuuulip

Character (s): dark!Bucky, later dark!Steve, too

Warnings: this is a dark!fic, it contains non/dubious-consent elements. Some violence as well at the beginning. It goes without (and with) that this is 18+.

Summary: Bucky makes things clearer for the reader.

Notes: I am reposting this fic here. It was originally on ao3 but now it’s on tumblr too! If you read, I love feedback and would love any comments you have. And if you can, please share! Anyhow, enjoy :)

You were sore. Your wrists and legs were chafed from being bound, your muscles ached from Bucky’s merciless fucking, and a giant bruise had formed along your rib cage where he had struck you. You remembered vaguely when he left. He dressed in the dark before sitting on the edge of the bed. You were sprawled across the mattress, uncomfortably on your arms as he had rebound your wrists behind your back.

“Next time, I won’t tie you up,” He said evenly. As if what he was saying was perfectly normal. “But you aren’t going to be so fucking stubborn. You’re going to fuck me, do you understand? Because if I have to bring this out again,” He turned you and tore the tape from around your wrists, “I won’t take it off for you.” He crumpled the tape and tossed it on your bedside table, smacking your ass with his vibranium hand. “Your welcome…”

“Thank you,” You croaked, pulling the blanket over to cover yourself and roll over.

He stood and left you there, shivering in the cocoon of your comforter. It was the first time you had slept in your bed in weeks. Nevertheless, it was a restless night, or couple hours. He had stayed until close to three in the morning. It both shocked and terrified you that he had such stamina. If his attentions ever turned anything but lustful, you’d not have a chance.

When the sun shone on you, waking you from your light slumber, you groaned. It was ten minutes before you could move. The memories never returned because they were already there, lingering like his touch upon your skin. You could feel him still. You could feel him inside of you, your walls aching from his invasion. Dried cum crusted the ends of your hair and random patches of skin, staining the comforter you had slept in.

You cranked the shower on, the metal giving its usual whine as the pipes hummed and finally spouted steaming water. You stepped into the bath slowly, your muscles shaking as you steadied yourself with a hand on the wall. You stood beneath the flowing water for a while before lathering soap into your skin, scrubbing and scratching away his scent. You washed your hair and stepped out, wrapping yourself in a towel and sitting on the closed toilet to stare at the tiled wall. You felt like crying but no tears came. You just sat.

Your front door clicked shut and you jumped up. The washroom door was wide open as Bucky appeared at the end of the hall, a tray of coffees in his hand. What the fuck? You slammed the door and locked it. You slid down it, holding your head. This couldn’t be possible. Why was he back? Could he not give you some time after...that?

“I can wait,” He called, “But your coffee’s going to get cold.”

He was taunting you. That’s what this was. Every little thing he did was to torture you. You were fuming. He was in your apartment. He was in your life! He wouldn’t leave you alone. You tucked the edge of your towel in, securing it tightly and whipped open the door, storming into your living room. He sat nonchalantly on the chair, testing the temperature of his coffee. “Fuck off!” You yelled at him, “Get out! Now! Go! I can’t have you here right now.” He merely sipped from his coffee and held it in his hand, seemingly enjoying the warmth against his palm. You grabbed his metal arm and tried to force him from the chair but he didn’t budge. “Go!”

He set aside his coffee. Calmly. The subtle movement, the evenness of it, was frightening. You let go and stepped back as he stood, turning to you with danger in his eyes. You were terrified but you wouldn’t let it show. He stepped closer and you held your ground, glaring back at him. You would have been chest to chest if he wasn’t a fucking super soldier.

He laughed. “Well, I’ve been waiting for this,” He grabbed your wrist and you tried to pull away, “It’s about time that anger came out.” You smacked him with your other hand, though it did just as little as you trying to shove him out of the chair. His hand went to your neck, snaking around and grabbing your wet hair. He led you backwards until you were against the wall. “Mmm,” He leaned down to smell you, “It’s taking all my strength not to bend you over right now.” His nose tickled your cheek, “Now, we have a schedule so be a good girl and get dressed.” His other hand slid up under your towel, lingering between your thighs, “Go,” He released you, “Before I change my mind.”

You scowled and caught your towel before it could fall. “You’re a fucking bastard, you know that?”

“I do,” He smirked, resuming his seat, “But I can still make you cum.”

The remark made you nauseous and the fact you couldn’t deny it was even more sickening. You shook your head and turned away, ignoring the glint of the kitchen knives from the counter. Your mind turned to his words and instead you wondered what exactly he meant by a ‘schedule’. What exactly did he have planned that involved more than your mattress? You took your time anyhow, drying your hair and dressing in the most shapeless pair of jeans and plainest tee you had. He couldn’t accuse you of being unkempt if your clothes were in the least clean and without holes.

You entered the living room quietly, arms crossed, anxious. He held out the other cup of coffee and you took it hesitantly. “It’s black. I didn’t know what you take.” He said, looking at you expectantly.

“Thank you,” You muttered, resisting the urge to dump it on him.

“Right, let’s go,” He stood and grabbed his own cup.

He pressed past you, leading you to the door. You were in no way eager to leave. You slipped on your shoes, grabbed your jacket and purse, and trailed after him. You walked silently outside, fishing around for your keys in your bag. “We’re taking my car,” He interrupted your search. You hooked your purse over your elbow and quietly sighed. This was odd, indeed.

He led you to a sleek silver sports car. About two decades younger than your Honda; probably from next year’s line if you were to guess. He hit the button and it chirped, the doors unlocking as you approached the passengers side. You looked at your reflection in the window and frowned. You looked tired; worn out. What else did you do but work and suffer this man’s presence? You climbed in and dared a gulp from the coffee. The familiar aroma enlivened you even if your circumstances were entirely draining. You buckled up out of habit as Bucky started the car, it was so quiet you weren’t sure it was running. He must have been paid well for taking other people’s lives. As you drank the coffee, a comfort in the tense silence, the caffeine fueled your nerves. Where were you going?

Finally, he pulled into a spot along one of the main streets, clothing boutiques and beauty salons lined the strip, specialty shops found amid the capitalistic haven. It wasn’t too far from Stark Tower. You rarely ventured this way as you could barely afford to look in the windows. You looked over at Bucky who seemed perfectly unfazed as he climbed out of the car. You followed, tossing your half empty cup into a trash bin.

“Can you please tell me what’s going on?” You grumbled.

He turned to you and grinned. He reached out and touched the hem of your grey tee shirt just below your black jacket. “We had this talk, Y/N. I have a standard you need to meet. Your little secretary look is cute but I think it’s time for something less mousy. Something that shows off the real animal in you…” He tugged on your shirt before releasing it, “You’re not as innocent as you pretend to be.”

You rolled your eyes and waited for him to guide you. He was the one with the schedule, not you. He led you to a salon, it foretold of manicures and highlights much above your pay grade. You hoped he didn’t expect you to pay for all these ‘standards’. He swiftly greeted the woman at the round desk and gave your name. A woman with blue-grey hair led you to her chair and you sat with trepidation. You didn’t need a haircut.

“Um...do you have to cut it?” You asked as you stared in the mirror.

“You don’t want it cut, dear?” She looked confused as she took the measure of your locks. You glanced over at Bucky as he sat and took a magazine from the table.

“Not a lot, okay? Just make it look good, I guess.” The woman smiled, brushing her fingers through your hair. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep the length and give you some shape.”

“Thanks,” You muttered, trying to calculate the price in your head as you glanced at their listings in the reflection.

You couldn’t claim to be unhappy with the hairdresser’s work. You looked better for sure, your face was more open and your hair bouncier. You thanked her and crossed to the counter, once more reaching into your purse. Bucky’s hand stopped yours as he slid his card across the desk. “I got this,” He assured you, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “I told you you’re mine and I take care of my pets.” You bristled, wishing you had told the woman to buzz your head to the scalp. Let’s see how he’d like that.

Next he dragged you to several boutiques along the street, handing you skin tight pencil skirts and generously cut blouses. His taste in shoes was surely uncomfortable but your arguments were quickly shut down. The day ended in a lingerie store, your face burning as you walked the aisles. He was less than picky in gathering laces and satins from the hooks, holding up the skimpiest bustier to your chest. You shoved it down into the basket and told him to stop as he chuckled. He was thoroughly amused by your discomfort.

“Here, try this one,” He shoved a bright red teddy towards you.

“I don’t need to try it on,” You hissed under your breath and he raised a brow dangerously.

You bit your tongue and grabbed it from him, marching over to the dressing rooms. A round cushioned bench sat outside the change rooms and you quickly swept inside, stripping down and pulling on the teddy. You just wanted this to be over with. You opened the door but stayed inside, not wanting anyone else to happen by. Bucky tried to wave you out but you shook your head. He shrugged and stood, entering the tight dressing room before you could react. He shut the door behind him, the teddy and your cotton panties your only shield. “Mmmm, it fits you well,” He had you up against the wall, pinned and unable to push him away. He pressed his twitching cock against you and his lips met your cheek as you turned your face away. He moaned as you wriggled against his rising erection and you squeaked as you tried to free yourself from him. “I could fuck you right now,” His hand was on your ass, kneading it hungrily.

“Hey!” An attendant banged on the door, “This isn’t a hotel.”

You were mortified and you growled up at Bucky, beating on his chest to get him away. “Sorry.” You called back as he slowly retreated. He winked and let himself out, laughing at the shop employee as they gave him a scolding look and you shut the door hurriedly. You were even more ashamed of the heat pooling in your pelvis.

#dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes #dark bucky #dark bucky barnes #dark!fic #fic #witness #series #au #mcu #marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #darkverse

455 notes · View notes

niksixx · 6 years ago

Text

Red Dress

Requested: Yes, by an Anon!

Pairing: The Dirt!Tommy Lee x Reader

Description: You gain a bit of weight and Tommy comforts you and helps you feel less self conscious

Warning: Curse words

*Picture is NOT mine. Found on Google. Credit to the owner.*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fuck this, fuck that, oh and especially, fuck that.”

Summer clothes you had originally planned on wearing littered the cream colored carpet of your bedroom floor. The scowl on your face that appeared early on in the morning seemed to deepen every time you caught sight of yourself in the mirror, and you debated shattering the glass with your phone.

Overwhelming feelings of insecurity and annoyance had drowned you for the last three days. Every outfit you covered your body with never seemed to fit like they had a month ago, and the more you gazed at your naked body in the wall length mirror, the more frustrated you became.

So you had gained a little bit of weight, so what? It’s not the end of the world, said the voice in your head. No, the world wasn’t ending, but you were pretty sure your relationship would once your boyfriend saw the amount of weight you’d gained out of nowhere.

By the time you were finished throwing all of your brand new clothes in a black trash bag to be donated, pathetic tears slipped from your eyes like a rainstorm. Tommy would be home any minute from rehearsal, and you were supposed to meet Vince and his wife for dinner reservations.

“Yeah, no way in hell.” Grumbling, you dragged the trash bag to the front door, leaving it off to the side for later. Your ‘spring cleaning’ episode had left you tired and sweaty and a shower, you figured, would be the perfect solution to help you relax.

Unfortunately, the first thing Tommy suggested when he returned home was that you two shower together. On a normal day when your emotions were balanced and you loved your body, you wouldn’t hesitate to jump in the shower with him. But today wasn’t a normal day, and the last thing you wanted was Tommy seeing you in such a vulnerable state.

“Hey pretty girl,” Dropping his keys on the table, Tommy walked over to you and kissed your cheek, pulling back with a cheeky grin. “What do ya say we take a shower, hm? Save water, fool around a bit.”

“No thanks,” you mumbled, slightly pushing him away. What you truly wanted to do was bury your face in his chest, but more tears would gather in your eyes and Tommy wouldn’t leave you alone until he figured out the problem.

Confusion settled on Tommy’s face as he reached for your hand. “What’s wrong? You usually never say no to a shower.”

Shrugging, you padded toward the bathroom, ready to shut the door in his face. “I think I want to shower alone. I’ll be quick, I promise.” And with that you closed the door.

~~~

Your bed was now soaked from the spot in which you sat wrapped in a towel, staring down at your feet. Tommy would be out of the shower soon and you hadn’t even chosen an outfit to hide yourself in. Sighing, you let the towel fall from your body, positioning yourself in front of the mirror.

You noticed the weight gain immediately, predominantly in your thighs and stomach. Turning to the side, you ran your hand up your bare skin, noticing that even your ass had grown slightly bigger and not in the good way, either. Stretch marks were visible along your hipbones, and you aimlessly poked at the skin on your stomach, tears welling it when you felt a slight jiggle.

“What are you doing?”

Shrieking, you turned and noticed Tommy looking at you quizzically. He had already dressed in the bathroom, looking well put together in black slacks and a light blue, long sleeve button up shirt. With his hair still damp, you assumed he’d only finished his shower minutes prior.

“Oh my God, Tommy, shit.” Frantically, you scanned the room until you found your towel on the floor, scooping it up and quickly wrapping it around your midsection. “I’ll be ready soon, I just—.”

“What were you doing in the mirror?” Cutting you off, Tommy took a step forward, tugging at the top of your towel. You instantly jumped back at his touch, disgusted with yourself and the foreign body beneath the towel.

“Nothing Tommy,” Your voice was sharp and your eyes were dark, averting your gaze from the man in front of you. “I think you should just go with Vince and Diana. I’m not feeling well, I’ll just stay home and make a salad or something.”

“You’ve never touched a salad,” Tommy reminded, hands on his hips. “Why would you want one now?”

“Because I’m fucking fat, alright?!” The quick snap of your voice startled both Tommy and yourself, and you found yourself sobbing into your hands. Having Tommy see you broken and vulnerable was something you were horribly ashamed of. Tommy always encouraged you to be who you are and love yourself because sometimes that’s all you have. You didn’t want to know what kind of thoughts were forming in his head, watching you sob in front of the mirror in nothing but a black towel.

When you felt a pair of arms wrap around your neck, you let out a strangled cry, clutching onto Tommy’s clean shirt. The soft touch of his fingers gently gliding down your back should have put your mind at ease, but it only caused another cry to escape.

“Sweetheart, where did this come from?” His voice was sincere, but you knew he was slightly baffled by your sudden outburst. “You are nowhere near fat, Y/N.”

You dropped the towel angrily, the cool air hitting your body, sending chills up your spine. Lust pooled in Tommy’s eyes, looking from your face to your bare body. “My stomach, my thighs, and my ass are all fatter than they were a month ago, Tommy. Look at me!” You poked at the various parts you were unhappy with, grimacing as each part shook. “None of my summer clothes fit so I had to get rid of them all. And that’s also why I didn’t want to shower with you. I’m embarrassed, Tommy. I don’t know how this happened.”

Running a hand through your hair, you turned to the mirror again. This time Tommy came up behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist, head on top of your shoulder. “Tell me what you don’t like,” His voice was soft, sweet. “Look in the mirror and tell me exactly what you don’t like.”

Shrugging, you pointed at your thighs, now a teeny bit wider than you wanted. “My thighs are gross. I couldn’t even slid my jean shorts up past my knees.”

Nodding, Tommy’s hand slid down your body, rubbing small shapes into the skin. “Do you know how easy I fall asleep on your legs, baby? They’re warm and they make the best pillows.”

The compliment brought a faint smile to your face. It was true, Tommy would sleep best when his head rested in your lap. Sometimes he’d curl up on your thighs in the middle of a movie, and you’d hear him softly snoring minutes later. Smiling, you glanced down at your thighs, and they didn’t seem as big as you had thought. Maybe they weren’t so bad after all.

“Well, fine, but my ass is all big and lumpy. And not in a good way.” Pouting, you crossed your arms over your chest, slightly turning to the side.

“Baby,” Tommy said, giving your butt a firm squeeze. “Do you know how hot your ass looks when you get dressed up? Especially in that red dress I love so much.”

A pink tint warmed your cheeks, and you had to admit, you too loved the way your ass curved in that dress Tommy had bought you for Valentine’s Day last year. It was tight in all the right places, and Tommy never failed to mention how stunning you looked when you wore it.

“Anything else?” Tommy asked, kissing your cheek and smirking at you in the mirror. His words had given you a newfound sense of confidence.

“My stomach,” you whispered, poking the center. “It’s gotten too chubby.”

Smiling, Tommy bent down eye level with your stomach and sprinkled kisses all around. “Do you want to know why your stomach is the most beautiful part of your body?” You shook your head, waiting for him to go on with his speech. “Because this tummy right here will be the home to our little babies someday. And I don’t know about you, but I hope that day is sometime soon.”

Pulling Tommy to his feet, you grabbed his cheeks and feverishly kissed his lips, ignoring the wetness that coated your face. How was it possible that Tommy could completely switch your mood around with a few gentle sentences? You’d gotten so lucky with him.

“I never want you to forget that you are the most perfect girl, Y/N, and I will always find something to love about the parts that you hate. Now come on,” said Tommy, giving your ass a gently smack. “Dinner’s waiting.”

And when you emerged from the bathroom in that tiny red dress Tommy loved, and his eyes shone as bright as the stars, you had to question why you ever felt insecure in the first place.

#motley crue #the dirt actors #the dirt head cannons #the dirt smut #the dirt concepts #the dirt movie #the dirt boys #the dirt imagines #the dirt #nikki sixx #vince neil #mick mars #tommy lee #douglas booth #iwan rheon #mgk #daniel webber

328 notes · View notes

hermitreunited · 5 years ago

Text

Because They Have a Blanket Chest Now

Daily-Fluff-Dose Day One

Prompt: sickfic

Characters: Allison + Klaus + Vanya

Of course they all deserve a cookie and a pat on the head for stopping the end of days, but when they returned from that exhausting little time journey, Klaus hadn’t been too impressed. He hasn’t been to the apocalypse, he doesn’t have that to compare things to. The world still just looks like the world, big deal. He can see that objectively it is, in fact, a big big deal, so yes, great job everyone, but the important thing, really, is that when they came back, Ben was alive, thank God.

Thank Five, actually. And thank whoever takes on the task of making sure those two scheming, ancient pre-teens never meet each other.

The point is that Ben is alive, and it’s wonderful; he can read all those books Klaus never got for him and see places Klaus never took him and spend time with people other than Klaus, and that’s really great and Klaus is so incredibly happy for him, and also, Klaus is a little bit lonely these days.

He’s never been good at sleeping through the night, and even less so these days, with no way to keep the ghosts quiet and more nightmares to choose from than ever before to shock him awake.

He’s not complaining - he’s not - he’s not. What he is is he’s walking.

He’s almost done walking. Took a turn about the old neighborhood for, gosh, was it really a multiple hours? But now the streets are starting to wake with people heading off to work like normal people do, and Klaus is heading home, because he’s not wandering around homeless and high off his ass these days, but he is still nothing close to normal.

He stops in to the corner store first. They have these little puffed pastries with cherry filling in them, gleaming red at the ends like rubies. He coveted them when he was little, and then he stole them when he was older. Today’s probably the first time he’s ever paid for them; he wonders if that’ll make them taste sweeter. He stuffs the paper bag with more than he can eat and hopes he can use them to bribe someone into hanging out with him, at least for a little while.

It’s really early when he shoves open the heavy front door and slips inside. Five may be an early riser, but really, it’s really early. The house is too big for this to be an actual plan, but Klaus decides to go brew some coffee and maybe the smell of it percolating will reach up to Five’s room and he’ll float through the halls and down into the kitchen, riding along on the wafting scent like a hypnotized cartoon character.

Although. He might not need Five after all.

Allison is sprawled across the hard maroon couch in the great room, Vanya with her knees tucked up to her chest is sitting wedged at the end by Allison’s feet. Allison makes a very unhappy sound and extends her arm straight up in the air just to bring it down and press a hand to her forehead. There’s a couple - wow, a couple, impressive - empty bottles of wine on the center table.

Klaus grins. So maybe he won’t have to con Five into a chat.

He still is going to need some coffee.

Once he’s in the kitchen with a plan to set in motion, he gets a little overexcited. Goes a little overboard trying to make eggs. It seems like a good idea, but Klaus has never made eggs, not any time that he’s been sober enough to remember, anyway. When Mom makes them, they don’t usually look this wet, he doesn’t think. He scoops them out onto two plates anyway and dumps some black pepper over the top in case that’ll help.

He debates piling everything onto a cutting board or something to bring it all out in one trip, but he decides that he’s not Cinderella and his balance is just not that good. An excellent decision, it turns out, when he accidentally shoulder-checks the doorway on his way in. And then the sloppy scrambled eggs nearly fall off the plates anyway because the whole of everything shakes for a few seconds. The noise of his entrance caught Vanya by surprise, but it’s as impressive an arrival as a person could make.

In sing-song tones, he asks, “And how are we feeling today?” Just to be a pain, because he definitely already knows the answer.

“I never drink this much,” Vanya moans. “How did we drink this much?”

“I’m too old for this,” Allison says like it’s an agreement, even though it’s barely a connected thought.

Klaus plops down cross-legged on the floor next to the couch and waggles the food in Allison’s face. “You’re never too old for breakfast!”

She props herself up sideways on an elbow. With an expressive wrinkle of her nose - she’s an actress, she’s good at dramatic faces - she seems to immediately think better of it and goes back to being fully horizontal.

Skeptically, she asks, “Is that edible?”

“It’s eggs,” Klaus says brightly, because that is the one thing about them that he knows for certain.

“That wasn’t really an answer. Was that a real answer?” Allison checks with Vanya.

“Not an answer.” Vanya’s mumbling so much it’s practically all one word.

“You ever seen Diego eat eggs?” Klaus says. “He cracks those fuckers raw right into his mouth, lets them slide down his throat.”

Vanya groans and clutches her stomach, which makes Klaus grin, but he does take pity. He’s been on the other side of this situation more times than he hasn’t. More times than he’s done most things. He hauls himself to his feet. “Stay right there.”

As he bounds out of the room, Vanya mutters something that sounds like, “Not going anywhere. Ever again.”

Allison takes her coffee darker than Vanya does. Klaus picks up the two mugs, then puts them back down so he can grab a pair of water bottles, since they are probably going to want some of that, too. He stuffs those under his left arm and ends up having to carry the bag of pastries with his teeth. But he does manage to get everything in one trip, and without spilling anything! This is the kind of incredible feat of dexterity and willpower that Klaus can be fully supportive of, because it’s definitely unprecedented and he knows what a pain in the ass it would be if he had to stop and clean a huge mess off of dad’s expensive carpeting.

Vanya hugs her mug close to her chest. She doesn’t drink it, just keeps her eyes shut and her breathing deep. Allison doesn’t even bother taking it, so he puts it on the table with the rest of the abandoned food.

“You had a great night then, huh?” If Klaus was really as good a brother as he’s pretending to be, he’d be quiet, but he’s bored and unexpectedly ghost-free. “So spill.”

“No men,” Vanya murmurs, and Allison echoes her loudly.

“No men!” she says. “Was a good night, with no men.”

“That does sound like a good start,” Klaus agrees. He sips on Allison’s bitter coffee since she’s not making any move on it. He doesn’t love coffee, but the warmth is nice. The cup is heating up his fingers, which he didn’t even realize were cold.

“Why are we so bad at men?” Allison taps Vanya’s leg with her foot. “Is it them or us? They were both so bad.”

“So so bad. I mean, it’s them, but also it’s probably us.” Vanya slurps up some of her drink and Allison rhythmically nods, her chin pressing down to her collarbone over and over. “I guess it’s just Hargreeves family bad luck.”

“Hey, speak for yourself.” Klaus wedges his feet beneath the sofa and leans back against the low table. “My man is perfection.” Except for the being dead part, which was less than ideal. In all other ways, though. Perfection.

“What if, actually,” Allison says, “nobody speaks. We could all stop speaking.”

“Start sleeping.” Vanya agrees.

She looks about ready to take her own advice, right away, so Klaus hops up and plucks the mug from her hands. She doesn’t open her eyes but she makes an annoyed noise and then that makes the floor rumble a little. Her little grabby hands open and close on nothing.

Klaus shushes soothing sounds at her and pulls out her favorite soft blanket from the chest they keep in here now for those. Because they have a blanket chest now. Every time Klaus sees it, it still makes him smile knowing how much it would piss the old man off that they have a whole box taking up space in here, all filled up with comfort items.

He pulls out Allison’s oversized orange afghan too, and flutters them up and over his sisters, tucking the edges in along the sides. Both of them are already completely dead to the world. That probably isn’t likely to change for a while. Hangover naps are a dense, weighty sleep.

These questionably edible eggs are not going to get any more appetizing, so Klaus gathers up the plates again and scrapes them into the kitchen trash. The most important item of all is the ibuprofen he fetches from the top shelf.

Even shaking the bottle like a maraca doesn’t wake these sleeping beauties. Not that he wants to. Vanya is making little snuffly snore sounds, it’s adorable. Setting the pills down, he gets reminded about those pastries he bought.

He sits between the table and couch again, but this time turned the other way, feet under the table, and cushions and Allison’s legs at his back. Looks like he’ll have to eat alone after all. He blows out a disappointed sigh. Being sober blows, and being sober all by himself is worse. But he’s not completely alone. The girls may be asleep, but they are right there behind him, warm bodies and soft breaths.

Allison’s not using the whole blanket. It’s huge. Half of it is draped off the edge of the couch anyway.

If he does the math, Klaus figures he can’t have gotten more than three hours of sleep before he went out for his circuitous neighborhood comeback tour.

He snags the afghan spilling onto the floor and tucks it below his chin.

It really is very cozy under here; he did a great job taking care of the two of them.

The scent of coffee is nice and relaxing, too.

That’s another first - this room actually feels peaceful. That’s definitely never happened before.

His eyes drift closed without him even noticing.

#DFD #Daily Fluff Dose day 1 #tua #I doubt I will be doing all of these but dang if this didn't just take over my head for the day #I hope that being hungover counts enough as being sick for the sickfic prompt??#and going platonic because I can barely write shippy things for the ships I actively ship #Klaus and Allison and Vanya #being sleepy and soft together it's cute okay #This was really fun to write! Thanks for putting together a fandom challenge like this <3 #whoooops i'm terrible at titles but i definitely need to go to sleep and not worry about it soooo here you go #long post #tua ficlet

17 notes · View notes