#what about the plots when people DO find out who iron man is -- like with the actor and that one guy who thought he WAS iron man in the end

[the-faultofdaedalus]

@docdracula‘s robot iron man concept has completely taken over my brain, rent free, absolutely no intent to evict, ect ect and i have THOUGHTS i have too many thoughts.

for one, like, how early on does tony die? how early is this ai/robot created? is there a possibility that it was created before anyone knew who iron man was? before even Happy? because that’s So fucked up. no one (but yinsen) ever knew who he was and now no one ever will because there isnt anyone TO know underneath anymore. there’s a single picture of iron man back when it was still tony, back when the eye holes were just holes. back when you could see human eyes under the mask. the eye-slots are opaque now, but. there was a person in there once. so everyone assumes there still is. the assumption is that he’s someone who tony met in vietnam. maybe a soldier. that the two of them were close -- you need to be close, to trust someone with your life like that. for iron man to continue being connected with SI even without the payroll of tony stark’s bodyguard. for the mansion to be left to him. (i am setting tony’s death pre-avengers formation, because i think that is Fun)

No one connects tony stark and iron man beyond that. they knew eachother. they were close. iron man attends his funeral. he doesn’t say a word.

also, in my head, the iron man AI/robot is Distinct from any sort of AI tony. both because this early in canon, i want to say that a perfect copy like that just wouldn’t be possible, and because tony isn’t necessarily trying to replace himself: he’s just trying to replace iron man, and this distinction matters. quite a lot, i think. like, with AI tony we know that tony programmed him to still be an alcoholic. i... don’t actually think he’d do that if he was just building a robot to continue to be iron man, especially with how much tony tends to build up the seperate identity as better than himself.  is this AI still absolutely fucked up, even if it is supposed to be what tony considers the best parts of himself? absolutely! hes still kind of based off tony of COURSE hes just a fucked up guy.

i just,,, him. i love this fucked up lil robot trying to be a person, trying to be the best person, trying to be everything tony thought iron man was. being almost tony, but not really. he always feels weird around pepper and happy and ms abrogast because he doesn’t know them but he knows about them. they’re his friends (they were tony stark’s friends) but he doesn’t know how to talk to them. they don’t know what he is. he doesn’t fully know what he is. he isn’t tony stark, but he isn’t not tony stark. he’s iron man, but that’s just an identity, a mask for someone who used to exist and doesn’t anymore. he’s iron man, but not tony stark. he’s just a mask. he’s just a mask and nothing else.

i think he’d start metaphorically sobbing the first time one of the team called him “shellhead” because thats a name FOR HIM!!! he gets a name! he’s been given a name! i don’t know if he’d HAVE one before that. i don’t know if tony would have time to name this AI, or would even... consider giving him a name other than iron man. i feel like he’d get so soft whenever the team treat him like a person but also feel so bad about it because he doesn’t want to deceive them (even as he increasingly feels like he has to, in order to be what they want him to be). i feel like he’d want to reach out, so badly, so very badly, but feel like he has to hold himself back, because if he reaches far enough to make contact whoever he’s reaching for is going to discover there isn’t anyone else there.

i think about him having some actual articulation underneath the armor, mostly in his hands, so he can take the gauntlets off and have fine-motor control enough to build things, things to give to his team who he loves so so much with the heart that isn’t there. i think other than that there wouldn’t really be much else. he can fill the suit up with gadgets and extra pieces and more processors but there isn’t really a point on building a skeleton. the armor is his body.

i like to think that he feels bad whenever the team worries about him. because he ISN’T in the same level of danger as they are. he can’t be hurt in the same way they can. it’s just another way he feels like a liar. he feels like a liar a lot -- moreso than tony, even, because at least tony’s just lying about who he is, not what he is.

honestly the most tragic part is that even though tony’s dead and this robot has no heart to have problems with

he’s still got to plug himself into a wall

[dragonpotter]

i find it funny how allicent says that viserys is "blind" when it comes to rhaenyra's sons and rhaenyra in general. of course he is not blind, he knows very well how his daughter is, he knows her son's aren't laenor's, he just doesn't want to punish her. does alicent really think that viserys would exile her, kill her for having bastard sons? what kind of father would do that? not one who loves his daughter like viserys does. and alicent doesn't understand being loved unconditionally, she doesn't understand how someone can just be loved for who they are, their flaws and mistakes combined. all her life, she did everything by the book, everything just right and that still didn't make anyone love her. and for her, it's rhaenyra's fault, because she is loved, even though she broke several of those "rules". and alicent, instead of realizing that maybe those rules are kind of stupid actually, just blames rhaenyra instead of admitting to herself that she is jealous. she envies rhaenyra for being free, and being loved even though she doesn't follow the stupid rules that alicent does.

alicent says that viserys is blind about rhaenyra but i actually think he is way more blind about her. she has been plotting treason (telling his children that aegon will be the king), spreading rumours about rhaenyra's sons, threatening rhaenyra and her sons with a knife???? and viserys never did anything substantial to make her stop.

the most ironic part of them all is that she complains about viserys being "blind" to criston cole of all people, who i have NO IDEA why was never punished. he KILLED a man in the royal wedding and nothing happened to him. and when harwin strong beat criston up, he was removed from his post as commander of the city watch, but criston beats a man to death in a royal wedding and nothing happens?? let's not forget that when the king explicitly forbade that luke's eyes be taken out after, criston still tried to do it, he only didn't do it because daemon stopped him.

viserys wasn't blind about rhaenyra. he just loved her the way that she was and wasn't going to do anything stupid to harm her. like a father who loves her daughter unconditionally would, but alicent wouldn't know anything about that, would she? and for her, it's rhaenyra's fault that she is loved unconditionally, not otto's fault for being a shitty father.

the irony is that i believe viserys was in fact blind about alicent. about her ambition for her sons and bitternes towards rhaenyra. he was also blind about criston cole, who murdered a man in her daughter's wedding and wanted to take his grandson's eye out, but didn't get punished for any of it.

[fadelbison]

I do find it quite insane that people think Bridgerton season 3 was too rushed. I really think Colin's every plot line has been to bring him closer to Penelope. I think there's plenty of gifsets already that show the little affectionate or longing looks between Colin and Penelope starting from season 1. But I don't even mean those when I say that Colin is written in a way that perfectly matches Penelope's fat girl romance story. People skirt around calling Penelope a fat girl and therefore her romance one that's strife with struggles around being fat because somehow that is what they think will betray their fatphobia. But it's not fatphobic to recognize the way that a fatphobic society has fucked with both Colin and Penelope's heads. Colin's incredibly strong, incredibly illogical crush on Marina Thompson, Penelope's cousin, suddenly makes so much sense when you contextualize it as his feelings for Penelope being misguided onto the closest eligible target. (It honestly even felt that way when I watched season 1 as it was coming out.) Because here's the thing about Penelope, right? That society has deemed her ineligible. A fact that we know Colin is painfully aware of by the end of season 2 when he declares to his 'friends' that he would never court her. The same friends he calls shallow to their faces in season 3. So was it surprising that Colin's whole arc in season 3 was about shaking off the shackles society has on his decisions and more importantly, his desires. Because Colin isn't just trying to get by with society's expectations like Anthony was, no. He was trying to change himself to like it. He was trying to buy into it. Because society made him miserable before and maybe embracing it would make him happier. There's a reason he's so passionately anti-Whistledown. She represents those very shackles of society that ironically keeps him from acknowledging his feelings for Penelope. Colin has been in love with Penelope for just as long as she has been in love with him, if not more. But Penelope wasn't the only one who thought that was impossible simply because she was fat. In fact, this is a very common fat girl dating experience, you meet men who would absolutely fuck you, heck they can even love you in their own way but they're not ready to face the shame of other's judgement in acknowledging you. Colin's every appearance on this show starting from season 1 has been setting him up to release those shackles. He wanted to for Marina, but his feelings for her were not genuine. He chased her out of obsession, not love and I think that distinction was infinitely clear to Marina. She could never inspire this soft, sensitive man to harden his backbone in a way that Penelope can. His love for Marina brought him anguish, his love for Penelope brings him joy. The Duke and Daphne barely had a conversation that entire season, Kate and Anthony met and created all of this havoc for what? Colin and Penelope are the only two, whose emotional connection has been established over the course of three whole seasons. Lots of criticisms can be made of their romance I'm sure, but rushed? Listen, I know why people think it's rushed and while season 1 and season 2 Colin would really really care that you think Penelope is unfuckable but season 3 Colin doesn't have a single fuck left to give.

[bloobydabloob]

Any tips on getting better at realism? I've been drawing very cartoony works forever but I really want to branch out and draw more realistically and hone that style but Everytime I try it never feels human 😔

Suuuure. Sorry it’s fairly long, answer under the split thing.

I’d say mainly just practice drawing from reference first. Before I started doing any sort of more abstractive or non referential realism, I spent time practicing with maybe 20 or 30 paintings from reference.

Here are just some that I made during that time. I think they really really helped me to learn the principles of painting appealing realism, different kinds of people, color, skin, lighting, and anatomy.

In terms of actually drawing realism (whether from reference or not) I think the most important tip I can give, as well as the most overlooked ironally, is stylisation. Most realism that I see doesn’t connect at all with me which I think is maybe what you’re talking about when you say your portraiture doesn’t “feel human”.

Learning to draw realism in my eyes is largely about learning how to shortcut every single thing you can. So instead of drawing everything exactly how it is using an image, learn how to stylise realism in your own way. I find that if you don’t find a way to simplify the process, it can end up being A : Busy and B : hard for you to create more realistic images from imagination or from real life instead of photographs.

Here is a 40 minute drawing I just drew from a random photo I pulled off Pinterest + small explanation on what helps me to break down an image. I simplify realistic portraiture by adopting somewhat of an angular style, but the best realism / semi realism artists I know of draw realism using their own stylisation methods.

I also personally find that it helps to start by blocking in instead of sketching with lines, but I understand that this is a personal preference and might not work for you.

I also say this for everything but there is no “cheating” in art and anyone who tells you there is fundamentally doesn’t know anything about drawing, especially in the learning process. Cheat if you want. Use grids to plot where things will be, colorpick, trace, liquify, transform, whatever. Although I do also recommend that you only use this as a way to learn and don’t rely on it as a crutch, it helps a lot to be able to draw independently of all of these factors. But I learned to draw partially *by* being a kid who traced and colorpicked and fucked around. Who cares

This applies to everything too but just practice a lot. I’m too embarrassed to show but when I first starting drawing semi realistic art without reference it fucking sucked. Like *really* fucking sucked because I am extremely extremely faceblind and I mean that. It takes me 3 seasons of a show to recognise an actor’s face. But because I’ve drawn hundreds of faces now I know what I’m doing kind of. I also never post any realism art immediately because oftentimes if I don’t look at it for a day or two, I’ll come back to it and notice that something doesn’t look quite right. I would say that definitely helps.

ALSO very important but look at it from far away or a little version. I always look at my drawing in the digital navigator on FA and it helps me to notice when something looks dumb.

Anyways hope this helped at all… lalala. I don’t know man. Don’t take my words as bible I’m just some guy and I am also not a professional and realism is definitely not my strong suit. Tutorials are bullshit and if you think any of this advice sucks for you then don’t take it and forge your own path. Bless

[dantenyhpmir]

Branding

Pairing; Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Plot; You want to make it clear to everyone who owns you

Warnings; Branding, CNC ish

Word Count; 1642

Dante Nyhpmir Master list

You could not take your eyes off the stove. No matter what he seemed to do to you, your eyes were locked onto the iron. Watching it heat up. It felt odd being tied to a chair in the kitchen at first but Simon always had a way of taking you other places. He was the only man who ever seemed to be able to actually have you let go. You swear you could feel it alter your brain chemistry. Like your body just craved him now, it practically belonged to him. He'd say as much and you never got tired of hearing it.

His.

Only his.

Something about belonging to a man felt so good, as much as you'd hate to say it out loud. He would make you feel safe and cared for while also being able to fuck like he hated you. Anything he did had you soaked really, it was so new to have someone have such an affect on your body. To take it from you.

Or to show it off.

Marks did something to you.

Emotionally.

The odd remarks about the bruises on your knees. You'd chalk it up to rock climbing or some other sport you didn't do if people ask but you'd know. All the bruises from taking him. From his fingertips digging into your thighs or the shower floor. Knowing the hand print would still be there when you sat down, not going to the beach for the next few days while it took its sweet time leaving. The bite marks were your favourite. If you knew, you knew.

And if you knew, you wouldn't say anything.

It was like wearing the collar in public to some degree. Once the collar was on you were his to use, to play with as he saw fit but that wasn't enough. The hand marks weren't enough, or the bruises or the bites. There had to be more.

A tattoo of his name felt cheap. Not really indicative of your dynamic anyway. A branding though….

With a quick turn of the wrist he lifted up the iron. Leaning on the counter as if this was nothing. He looked so good in all black. Always all black.

You'd have to be naked.

Always.

Well, unless you count the cute rope harness keeping you firmly attached to the chair, an outfit.

“Not yet,” his eyes trained on it before fixating on you “let's let it get a little hotter”

You don't know how he does it, how his eye contact always feels like a threat. His eyes burned into your skull hotter than any iron.

It had been a long night of play. Basically putting you into a sweat as he'd pace around you, move your hair out of the way and bite into your neck. Twisting and groping everything, slowly. Firmly. You, making a mess all over the chair, any embarrassment would've left early in the night. You were gone. And you had a front row seat.

Your eyes never left that iron.

He noticed. He knew every sign in your body. It wasn't very hard to read your excitement. It looked just like terror.

You needed a closer look at it, by now a white hot glow.

“That's looking better” he says, pointing it at you. Still far enough away, for now.

You're too excited and can't help but squirm. Can't help but give him the usual attitude either.

“How do you even find an iron with a skull on it?” You tease

“Would you prefer my initials?” He says as he turns it, observing it

“Not sure which looks more embarrassing”

His eyes change as the iron finds it way closer to your neck. Slowly.

Creeping in.

Your back goes up, you can't move away from it as much as you're trying. He leans down to match your level, a kindness he doesn't often give.

Soon to be taken away.

“You're not in much of a position to mock”

He holds the moment. You don't have anything to say, what could you say? Your eyes say everything

You're stunned.

A coy smile creeps across his face, you can hear him exhale before he stands up. Everytime you hear him breathe it sends chills down your spine. Even if it's not on your neck, it's always a buffer. The sign before things escalate.

It's so satisfying when he stands over you, but daunting. You don't think your chin has ever been higher, the few hairs on it feel a singe. He hasn't touched you with it yet but it's close enough. Just a warning.

Usually he'd grab onto you as tightly as possible when it gets to this part of any scene. Of any escalation but the branding iron is doing all the work, he doesn't need too. It's the opposite really as his fingers brush your hair out of your face. Incredibly gentle as his thumb runs up and down on your cheek. So light, one side of your face being met with such kindness and the other side of your neck feeling like the sun could swallow it.

“Look at me”

You're not in a position to not listen

To not follow instructions

“Are you gonna keep squirming?”

You wanna shake your head no, you're in such a daze it feels impossible to speak but even slightly turning your head feels like a gamble. Your doe eyes widen staring up at him as you swallow your own fear that's caught in your throat

“Use your words”

“No”

“No, what?”

“No Sir”

“What are you going to stop doing?”

“Squirming”

“Good girl”

His thumb isn't so gentle anymore as it finds its way under your chin and holds your face in place, tightly as the iron bar gets closer. You didn't think it could get any closer without touching you.

“That wasn't so hard was it?”

Your eyes dart back and forth between the tool and his eyes. His dead sinister eyes. The eyes that call you out on every snippy remark you've ever made. The eyes that get you on your knees with a single side glance.

“No Sir” you gulp down as he almost tosses your head aside while stepping back with the iron.

Everything is hot, every single thing. The air is strangling you just as much as the rope. How did they seem to get tighter, how can you feel every rib rub against the knots as your chest lifts with every breath. Every breath that falls out of your mouth that you try and pick up again.

He takes some hot water he left in the kettle from over 20 minutes ago. Hot but not enough to burn him, and wipes it over the inside of your thigh.

Where anyone who comes near would see.

His mask.

His property.

“Not having you get any infections” he says, wiping down the area.

It's real.

It's happening.

“Simon”

You can't help shaking again

“I told you to quick squirming”

You try to stop, it feels impossible.

“I don't think you can handle this after all” he condescends with a tilt of his head and daggers in his eyes

“No I can, I can” you stammer

“You're sure about that?” He says with one finger moving up, farther and farther. Feeling how excited you are, feeling how scared you are.

“Jesus Christ” he says, soaking his fingers before looking back at you.

You blubbering mess.

“I can, I can, I can, I promise. Sir, please. I can handle it.” Over and over again.

His disposition is so still, not stopping you from going on and on. Every step is calm, walking to the counter to grab the blindfold. Setting down the iron on the stove only to put the sleepmask over your face.

“You're not gonna make me watch?”

“Don't want you to faint” he says as your eyes go dark.

Everything is so heightened. You swear you could feel every hair on your leg, every goose pump that runs through your body. His hand wraps back around your head, gentle. His thumb caressing your cheek.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You”

“Use your words”

“You, Si–”

But just as you say it you can feel his hand tighten around your throat to brace you for the white hot burn that engulfs your inner thigh. That feels like it's radiating heat you've never felt. The sting is almost agonizing and you can't help but cry out. To whine.

With each yelp getting tighter and you feel him press you into his chest and the pain subside from your thigh. The shock burned into you, taking so long to leave even if his force had.

His hands wipe away sweat before the blind fold. You swear his eyes have an evil smile when you see them again, knowing you're drenched in sweat, barely able to keep your eyelids over your eyes or your mouth from hanging open. So much breath to catch. So much fog to see through.

His kisses on your cheek bring you back to earth. Taking your time before you notice….

“Where?” You try to stumble out, wanting to remark on your trophy but,

“Where is—”

You look at him, leaning down over you. He holds a cube of ice in his fingers like a dice and sets it back on the area for a brief moment. You flinch.

“Its not–” you choke out, you can barely speak.

“No sweetheart” he says, again with condescension as he makes his way to the sink. The tap water hitting the iron, the sizzle of water to heat has you turn away. Your body rejecting the sound, a bigger wince.

Thinking of your skin.

He saunters back over, holds your face in both hands before kissing you.

“You're not ready for that”

Dante Nyhpmir Master list

[ellesthots]

Fateful Beginnings

VI. “dinner”

parts: previous / next

plot: after a sour interview attempt, you find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, brief mention of sa (which did not transpire), anger, arguing, feeling helpless

words: 2.2k

You quickly remembered how furiously he beat up the man in the alley. Maybe the truth was more transparent than you'd realized; you saw the Batman edge to him so clearly now. Batman was in the way his jaw set, his stature as he walked closer to someone. The staccato of his pointed words and how they flowed so securely past his lips. You could see it in every flex of his muscles, the intensity of his gaze. You never wanted to be on the receiving end of his vitriol. For now, all you had was his frustration and annoyance. Better than being prey.

"Forcing your dick into a stranger isn't exactly getting anything meaningful, is it?" You bit back, running over the pattering in your chest. Bitterness stung your tongue as you watched him pull back and pace between the desk again. "I'm talking money. Assets. Opportunities. If people had everything they needed, they wouldn't pillage the streets trying to find a means of self-preservation—"

He cut you off as rage seeped into your voice. "You talk like you know from experience."

"I know I'm far closer to them than an out of touch rich kid." You turned the recorder to OFF. He looked at you with suspicion. "What are you doing?"

"This is pointless." You clenched fingers around the recorder and grabbed your phone from where it sat on the table. Anger was starting to overtake you listening to someone who had everything in life handed to him look down on those who had less lucky circumstances. "I'm not dealing with you. I'm leaving."

Quick, heavy footsteps came up behind you and he grabbed your elbow. You ripped it away from him and kept on down toward the iron door. "I'm leaving." As you walked you remembered you'd left your heels; you wanted to turn around, but kept forward. Heat flushed your cheeks when you reached the door that wouldn't open. Panic. Would he even let you out? Is this when the torturing began?

"Master Wayne?" A British man's voice filled the basement. A clank, the sound of metal, and then a stutter. "Who—”

You spun around to face a grey-haired, well-dressed man peering out from an open-plan elevator. He had a pair of spectacles in hand and a worried expression. Opening your mouth to speak proved futile when Bruce Wayne was always so ready and willing to answer. "She knows, Alfred." His tone was flat and to the point, if a bit terse. Worry melted to curiosity as he nodded at you. Was that a statement or a signal?

You did a small, annoyed wave. "I'm Y/N. Wanted to interview Gotham's elusive billionaire." You covered the words in as much sarcasm as humanly possible to mask your deepening anxiety. Did he know how to fight too?

"Pleasure to meet you, Y/N. How about staying for dinner?" You felt softer with the presence of this man in the room. Was this his father? They didn't look particularly alike... and why wouldn't Bruce Wayne have an accent if this was his parent? Hadn't his parents died while he was young? Maybe he was a caretaker of sorts? A cook? Maybe it was too naive, it was likely so supremely naive as to be moronic, but you felt the mood shift when this 'Alfred' walked in. A positive one.

Bruce Wayne started to answer the dinner invite with a resounding hell no, which plastered a smile right on your face. "I'd love to!" You skipped over to retrieve your heels and sidled beside this Alfred in the elevator. Your heels ached and you wanted nothing more than to crash in your own bed. However, pissing off this asshole? And getting free food? You felt it the utmost priority to get under Bruce Wayne’s skin as much as possible. Maybe you could get more information for your paper while you were at it.

Alfred gave a come here motion for him to join you, and after a heavy scoff and eye-roll he slumped his way over. With a press of a button the doors closed and elevator shot up. To your right wafted a gentle scent of fresh musk; whoever he was, he even smelled fancy. To your right the smell of old clothes. Your eyes wandered to the stiffness of Bruce Wayne's suit; it looked like it hadn't ever been worn, and the musty scent lent that credibility. Clustered together in this small space with Alfred too, you got a bit more brave. Tested the waters. Wanted to see if your anxiety could be alleviated. You picked off a piece of lint that was on his shoulder; as soon as you touched him his head whipped toward yours, expression accosted. You suppressed a laugh. "Just some lint, Jesus."

The elevator stopped suddenly, forcing you to grab the bars as you stumbled forward. Him and Alfred walked easily as you stumbled behind them. You looked up to the massive staircase across the way, and noticed this elevator was placed adjacent to the kitchen in a dark hallway. The ceilings were impossibly tall with gothic arches and swirls in excess.

"I'm changing." Bruce Wayne walked unceremoniously out of the room and off somewhere in the gargantuan mansion at the first opportunity. Alfred showed you around the kitchen, handing you a heavy ceramic plate. Knowing them it could even be diamond. The house wasn't particularly well-lit; surprisingly for a wealthy family. Your mind immediately went to rich celebrities and their glistening homes. Gotham was so fucking weird.

Alfred winked at you as he got out two more plates. "Master Wayne can dish up himself, being how grumpy he's acted." You let out a small chuckle when the man himself silently appeared beside you, empty plate in-hand. He was suspiciously quick, and it looked weird outside of the suit. He smelled a bit better now, like a woody oak tree... and detergent. "Sorry, the prince has to dish himself." You crooned, handing him the ladle to the crockpot.

The sound of scraping dishes brought you back to meals with your mom and dad at the living room table. Homesickness enveloped you. How were they doing? They seemed excited to go to graduation; you hadn't seen them in nearly two years.

The scraping stopped. You watched carefully for the first fork to touch a tongue that wasn't yours. You made pleasant conversation until Bruce grew suspicious. He gestured to you. "Didn't you want to eat?"

Goosebumps riddled your thighs and you did your best to will them away from your arms and prying eyes. The house was so dark, but he was fucking Batman. You stumbled over some dumb excuse. "I always let the hosts eat first." It went over about as well as you thought it would with him.

"You think Alfred poisoned you?"

Shame did wheelies in your mind. It seemed a bit storybookish; come to the secret lair, have a final dinner before inevitable demise. The arches, the long table... it was all very reminiscent of something underground, something akin to holiness but more sinister. He stared at you when Alfred took a scoop from Bruce's bowl, and swallowed. You took a bite and instantly settled at how delicious it was. "Alfred, is this, uh, mulli—"

"Oh, yes! How did you know?" He was chipper, likely making up for his less kindly dinner partner. You told him how you'd asked what sort of cuisines Bruce was into—to which he shot another glare your way and the old man grinned.

You made sure to draw out the length of the dinner in spite of Bruce Wayne. He picked at his food, not eating, as you and Alfred prattled on about this, that, and oh, this other thing! It wasn't all a ruse, however; you thoroughly enjoyed Alfred as he seemed exceptionally kind and competent. Looking into his weathered face and hearing his posh accent took the burning sting of Bruce's presence away—which was another thing: he always had people refer to him with formalities, so you resigned to calling him Bruce.

"I'd like to leave, Alfred." Bruce spoke through grit teeth and pushed his plate toward the center of the table in protest. If he had been a bit more animated, it might have looked like he was throwing a tantrum. You didn't bother to hide the grin twitching your lips because you knew he'd hate that, too. It was as if nothing mattered more than getting under his skin. The bickering was peaceful, really.

Alfred wasn't having it. As far as he could tell you were being a perfectly pleasant guest, and it befuddled him why Bruce was behaving that way. He’d put a few pieces together down in the batcave, given Bruce’s unceremonious announcement that you knew about Batman, but why would he be so cold? He had always told the boy it would happen eventually, and you didn’t seem to be a particularly malignant presence.

You'd notice a glare being shot from him to Bruce after he made a snide comment or a face to something you had said, which only made you add another cherry to the pile. It wasn't like Bruce was completely in the right; in fact, he had poked at you equally as much. His transgressions were more passive, less perceptible. A judging twitch of the eyebrow, a squint, an eye-roll. It was his house and he knew he wouldn't be kicked out for acting up, so he didn't bother watching himself.

You frustrated him. Your voice was grating, your chipper demeanor nearly making him gag. But. There was something more. He truly could have gotten up at any time, as Alfred was still under his payroll. Alfred had little say in how Bruce behaved at the end of the day, and he knew he could have stormed off to his bedroom without (much) consequence. You felt like an itch he couldn't scratch. You weren't dismissible, no, but that was due to how uniquely you frustrated him. It made him feel like bees swarming in his mind, thoughts scattered, body constantly teetering off the edge. A thorn he couldn't get out of his side. The very fact that he could not pin down a sure reason sent his frustration past manageability. You knew he was Batman and you were blackmailing him for it, but that was what anyone else would have done in that situation. Why was your personality so infuriating? Like a knife slipping under his fingernails?

ZZZ ZZ. ZZZ ZZ. ZZZ ZZ. Your phone buzzed and Alfred took his cell out of his breast pocket. You opened your phone to an emergency alert. FLASH FLOOD WARNING FOR GOTHAM METRO AREA. SEVERITY: MODERATE THREAT TO LIFE AND PROPERTY. STAY INDOORS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.

Bruce's brows knit together again, much as they did at city hall. "What? What's the alert?"

Alfred spoke first. "It seems there's a... flash flood warning for our area. It says to stay indoors until further notice." You hadn't noticed the sound of the torrential rainpour until you really focused in on it. There were light pattering sounds far above with the terrifically high ceilings, though very steady and consistent. If it were in your apartment you wouldn't have been able to sleep in that damn cube. Wait. Sleep. You started typing into your phone the Gotham City website, and there was a red banner posted 12 seconds ago scrolling through bolded words in white. You read them aloud.

"It says on the city website to... expect delays for up to 72 hours?!" You couldn't hide the shock in your voice. Alfred immediately turned to Bruce who got up and slammed himself out of the chair. "Great. Just great." His annoyance ricocheted off the entryway walls, his hands fists at his side. Shit. Shit shit. Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. "Wait, my paper! It's,"

"It's alright dear. I'll make you a bed in a spare room down the hall from me. I have a laptop too, if your professor still expects you to turn it in during a monsoon." Alfred tried to laugh but you weren't in the mood, your heart pounding against its cage as you sobered at the thought of having to be around Bruce for more than another hour.

"Master Wayne, you'll give a tour to Miss Y/N while I draw up a room."

"Are you kidding me?" You couldn't see him but the frustration in his tone was different now. It felt... inescapable, which made the terror more palpable. You had just blackmailed the most infamous vigilante in the world. And now you were stuck in his house. Fuck. Karma.

[ravisinghs-wife]

Hii!

Could you please do Aaron Warner x reader dating post? cause I live for that man.



Aaron warner x gn!reader

warnings: ooc!Aaron (?), I changed the timeline and a tiny bit of the plot from unravel me, my poor attempt at writing anything besides headcanon, cringe writing, mention of being drugged, being shot, curse words

word count: 1.6k +

notes to the reader: reader's gift is to make people believe and do everything they say. reader has been at omega point since their childhood and is best friends with kenji. reader wears a dress

other notes to the fic: Juliette and Aaron are just friends (well still kind of enemies, but Aaron's main focus from bringing her to the reestablishment was to help his mom, instead of rescuing her bc he was in love with her), a/n: I am SO sorry that this took so long, I'm currently trying to work on my request before I open them again but I just don't have that much motivation to write rn😭, I hope you still like it:)), my first language isn't English so please respect that, I tried to write something different from what I normally do...

Masterlist

you two met when he was taken by omega point

after he was allowed outside of his room, and castle made sure that Aaron wouldn't destroy any more furniture, he kept seeing you on his daily walks with castle and began asking questions about you

"what's their name" Aaron looked focused, directing his question to the person joining him on his walk. Castle waited a few seconds before answering Aaron's question: "y/n, their gift is to make people believe and do everything they say" Aaron gave you another intense look before turning his attention to castle again and nodding, to signalize that he understood him.

after that he kept noticing you and eventually agreed to eat dinner with the others, just so he could sit at the same table as you and listen to your conversations with Kenji

you had been friends with Kenji for as long as you could remember, so you always sat at the same table, different friends of yours joining you both, be it Ian, Brendan, lily or the brand new members Adam, James or Juliette, with whom Kenji was especially close

but when the new omega point member, the infamous Aaron Warner joins you both you of course notice him

you also didn't miss the glances he kept sending you

so when castle, who also didn't miss the glances, asked you to train him you rushed to say yes because you just couldn't believe that a person could be so pure evil like Adam pointed him out to be

yes, he let someone tortured your best friend (which you still were pretty pissed about) but you believed that there could be something nice in him and assumed that he was under much stress due to his father, who you haven't heard a single nice thing about

his first training session was on an Tuesday afternoon, to which he arrived exactly on time and in perfect clothing, as if he somehow found a way to iron it

you started with some simple tasks to try to find out what exactly his power is and why he is immune to Juliettes touch

around three sessions later you come to then training session in your prettiest dress that you normally safe for special occasions

aaron, he demanded that you call him by his first name, immediately had one of his rare smiles spread out on his face when he saw you in that dress

he kept asking you to do a twirl so he could see the whole dress but you refused at first

it wasn't until he came closer to you, held your hands carefully in his and asked like a little puppy "please to a twirl for me, my beloved" that you made one with a shocked face

when he saw your expression he rushed to stop you and asked panicked if everything was alright

you told him that he just practiced your gift and couldn't do anything but do a twirl

after that both of you quickly figured out that his gift was to practice other peoples powers and copy them

the night after you are me in his room, trying to work on his powers

you do that until you notice him staring at you

"what's wrong Aaron?" you ask, looking concernt at the boy. you notice that he isn't smiling or grinning a bit like he normally does when you say his name. "my beloved, I- I'll have to leave in the morning. My father can't suspect that I'm here or where exactly omega point is, he'll know soon if i stay longer. I can't put you at this risk." You were shocked to say the least. "Aaron you can't- how would you even do that? Do you even know the way out?" "I wasn't really unconscious when I was brought here, you know? And I found a way to navigate myself around here in the last two months." He looks at your shocked face before adding: "But don't worry, I won't tell my dad or someone else about anything here. I'll hope that you'll miss me the same amount that I will miss you. I hope we will see each other soon again"

He doesn't let you protest any further, gives your hand a gentleman-like kiss and leaves

you had absolutely no idea where he went to, it was his room that you spent your time just mere minutes ago in, after all

still in shock you don't even think about following him, the only thought in your head being that he would be gone tomorrow and will probably spent his time with his pathetic excuse of an father

You don't even think about telling castle or someone else at omega point about Aaron leaving, and at the morning of the very next day you find out that he succeeded

days pass until each member from the rescuing mission of Brendan and Winston, who where both kidnapped my Aaron's psycho dad, Anderson, were ready and prepared to start the mission

the mission seemed to go well until you saw the bombs falling from the sky directly on the place where omega point was located

you were in shock and didn't notice the arms grabbing you and dragging you into a tank

you'd been handcuffed and your eyes were covered with a cloth

there was a voice saying something but you didn't catch was it was saying

someone forced a liquid down your throat and you soon passed out after that

the first thing that you noticed was the warm light

you sat in a kitchen chair but soon noticed that a person, who you assumed to be Anderson, Aaron's dad, because of the obvious resembles, joined you

shit

you didn't catch everything he was saying because you were still feeling dizzy from the drug you were forced to consume, something about revenge, the stupidness of his son (who apparently had joined you two), leading and shooting someone

you soon found out that with someone they meant you, when you were shot in the chest

right into your heart

being shot and drugged at the same day wasn't a nice feeling

you were bleeding and if it didn't stop soon you'd be dead in a few minutes

and if that would happen you couldn't exactly tell because you passed out

for the second time today

it was a shock, to say nicely, when you woke up next to Aaron

he immediately asked you if you were okay but you just stared at him

"I- What the fuck happened?" "my father he- he wanted to 'teach me a lesson'. I'm sorry, my beloved. If I never would've asked him to spare your life he wouldn't have tried to kill you or make me try to kill you." he rambled, trying to explain the earlier actions. But one question was still lingering in your head: "why exactly would you have asked him to spare my life?" He could've carered so much more about someone else's life than yours. Juliettes or maybe James. Besides his constant dining you were sure that he cared at least a bit for them. "Because I care for you, my beloved." You don't know what to say after this confession and just look at him and take his hand into yours.

that's how you met<33 sorry, I got carried away

anyway

that man SPOILS you

you see a pretty flower at the market? It's yours. There is a new collectors edition of your favorite book, but it's out of your price range right now? It's on your desk the next day. The limited edition vinyl that just restocked? already ordered, you get the deal

despite everything he says he actually loves dogs and you'll get one when everything with the reestablishment is over

he'll always pick out fancy colars for the dog and style it<3

he definitely has a fashion blog and posts his daily outfits on there

he'll also pick out your outfit everyday and he always tries for you two to match

every time you go shopping with Juliette and/or Kenji he insists on tagging along so you don't chose some ridiculous clothing items that would wash you out or something

he's obsessed with coffee after delalieu introduced him to it

and when you already like coffee you two have this ritual that every Sunday you guys drink a cup coffee on your balcony and just enjoy the early morning

but if you don't like coffee he always tries to get you into it and 'accidentally' places an extra cup on the breakfast table

"i promise my beloved, it's really good you just have to try it for once"

his love languages are words of affirmations and physical touch

he can't go longer than five minutes without touching you

he always has his hand rested on your lower back or holds your hand because your touch comforts and relaxes him<33

also loves to hold your pinkies

he may not look like it but he LOVES cuddling

you can't sleep anymore without you normally grumpy boyfriend squeezing you like his life depended on it

he also loves to rest his head on your belly before sleeping, while you both read something

he's so mesmerized by your presence

he tells you at least ten times a day how gorgeous, smart or lovely you are

you could literally just walk to the kitchen to get a snack and he'd drop everything to tell you how much he loves you

at the beginning of your relationship he was way more open than you expected with his feelings and already told you one month in the relationship that he loved you

I don't know why but I think he'd write you poems frequently

[shitsndgiggs]

heyy just wanted to ask for a quick request! take as much time as you want. your such a good writer!! 🫶🏽

could you do one with arda güler x a feminine reader. they both meet on holiday and after realising they share a few similarities they end up dating or something. you can change it to how you like. something with a plot like that.

thankss!!! ❤️‍����

THE CITY OF LOVE - ARDA GÜLER

The city of love brings people together

Arda Güler x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The bustling streets of Paris were alive with the hum of tourists and the aroma of freshly baked croissants. The Eiffel Tower stood tall in the distance, its iron lattice glistening under the summer sun.

I had always dreamed of visiting Paris, and here I was, ready to capture the perfect photo with the iconic tower in the background.

As I fumbled with my phone, trying to get the right angle, I realized it was nearly impossible to get a decent shot by myself.

I sighed in frustration, glancing around for someone who might help. That's when I noticed him – a tall, dark-haired man with a warm smile, casually dressed and clearly enjoying the sights.

"Excuse me," I called out, walking up to him. "Would you mind taking a picture for me?"

He looked up, his eyes meeting mine with a friendly glint. "Of course," he replied, taking my phone from my hand. "Happy to help."

I posed in front of the Eiffel Tower, and he snapped a few pictures, showing me the results. They were perfect – far better than anything I could have managed on my own.

"Thank you so much," I said, genuinely grateful.

"No problem at all," he said, handing my phone back. "I'm Arda, by the way."

"I'm Y/N," I introduced myself. "Nice to meet you, Arda."

"Would you like me to take a picture for you?" I offered, noticing he didn't have anyone with him either.

He smiled. "Sure, that would be great."

After I took a few shots of him with the Eiffel Tower, we started chatting. We discovered that we were both traveling alone and had coincidentally planned to visit many of the same landmarks.

"How about we explore the city together?" Arda suggested. "It's always more fun with company."

I agreed, and we set off on an impromptu adventure through the streets of Paris. We visited the Louvre, strolled along the Seine, and indulged in crepes from a street vendor.

The day flew by, filled with laughter and easy conversation.

"So, what do you do, Arda?" I asked as we sat on a bench, enjoying the view of Notre-Dame.

He hesitated for a moment before answering. "I play football. For Real Madrid."

My eyes widened in surprise. "Wow, that's amazing! I've heard of Real Madrid, of course. You must be pretty famous then."

He chuckled. "I guess you could say that. But today, I'm just a guy exploring Paris."

The day ended with a beautiful sunset at Montmartre. As we watched the city light up, I felt a connection with Arda that I hadn't expected.

"Do you have any plans for dinner?" Arda asked, glancing at me hopefully.

"I don't, actually," I replied. "Do you?"

"How about we find a nice little bistro and continue this amazing day?" he suggested.

Dinner was delightful, filled with more laughter and stories. By the time we parted ways that night, we had exchanged numbers and promised to stay in touch.

Over the following weeks, Arda and I kept in contact, texting and calling each other regularly.

Our bond grew stronger, and it wasn't long before we decided to take the next step.

One weekend, I flew to Spain to watch him play. Seeing him on the pitch, surrounded by thousands of cheering fans, was surreal. He was incredible, and I felt so proud.

After the match, we met up, and Arda introduced me to some of his teammates. "This is Y/N," he said, beaming. "She’s very special to me."

Our relationship continued to blossom despite the distance.

We made time to visit each other whenever we could, exploring new places and creating beautiful memories.

[superman86to99]

Action Comics #702 (August 1994)

Bloodsport (not the black one, the anti-black one) returns, which means this is gonna be another distressingly violent issue, but hey, at least we get to see Superman hit a Nazi! Right off the bat, we start with Bloodsport mowing down a nice black family because he wants to, as he puts it, "Keep Metropolis Clean." After the "Fall of Metropolis" storyline, the place is pretty messy, so I guess what he actually wants to do is Make It Clean Again, but I digress.

Meanwhile, Ron Troupe, who helped get rid of Bloodsport the last time he popped up, is working on an article in Lois Lane's borrowed laptop, which is apparently the only working computer in Metropolis right now. When they hear about Bloodsport shooting people up on a bridge, Lois and Ron rush there and arrive right in time to watch Superman get owned by pink goo. Racist pink goo.

(New writer David Michelinie sure loves covering guys in goo, huh?)

Bloodsport recognizes Ron (so he can tell black people apart), who once again has a chance to shoot him but can't bring himself to do it. Bloodsport is like "thanks, now I'll kill you anyway" and shoots at Ron but ends up killing a police officer instead. She looked Latina, though, so I guess that's still a win for him.

By the time Superman has freed himself from The Nazi Goo™, Bloodsport has left for "the largest African-American neighborhood in Metropolis," and not precisely to experience the rich culture and cuisine. Once Superman gets there, Bloodsport teleports a bunch of automated guns all around him, which don't look terribly intimidating to someone with bulletproof skin... until Bloodsport points them outwards, targeting random people in the neighborhood to keep Supes distracted while he goes off to do more hate crimes. I regret to inform you that this makes this racist asshole smarter than 90% of criminals Superman has fought.

While Superman deals with that, Ron, feeling guilty because that cop lady died due to his inability shoot guns, decides to fight Bloodsport through something he's actually good at: journalism. And also by logging into Lois' notebook without permission, but I'm pretty sure she'd understand (you'd think she would have gotten stronger passwords after Lex Luthor hacked her, though). Ron uses his own reporting and the dirt Lois recently dug up on Luthor to find out that all those guns Bloodsport can teleport on demand are currently being stored at the LexCorp tower. Luckily, it's much easier to sneak in there since half the place got blown to shit.

The next time Bloodsport tries to teleport a gun to his hand, he gets something else: a handful of molten metal, courtesy of Ron. Turns out Ron can't pull a trigger, but he's perfectly capable of pulling the pin on a grenade.

Without his teleporting guns, Bloodsport is just a regular bigot in a silly costume. Superman doesn't even deign himself to punch this worthless scum with his whole hand, since a finger will do.

Later, Clark compliments Ron on his bravery, but Ron says the real hero is everyone who goes through their day not being a racist asshole. Pretty low bar, Ron, but a nice sentiment.

NEXT: Zero Hour! Finally!

Creator-Watch:

As mentioned, this is the first issue written by Roger Stern's replacement, David Michelinie, fresh off his long run in Spider-Man comics where, among other things, he co-created Venom, the character who still keeps him infrequently employed at Marvel. This is a bit more violent and darker than I like my Superman comics to be (not surprising from the guy who introduced Iron Man's alcoholism and killed Aquaman's Aquababy) -- I'm not sure I like Clark smiling at the end when so many people died in the issue, including a little girl. At least he didn't wink this time!

But, other than that, I think this is a solid done-in-one story and I appreciate having Ron actually contribute to the plot in a meaningful way. Michelinie clearly did his homework in regards to the continuity and seems to have a good handle on the characters, particularly Lois and Clark. Their interaction in this issue is kinda hokey, but come on, it's Lois and Clark. They're allowed to be hokey.

However, I do remember having one serious complaint about Michelinie's run the first time I read it: an almost complete lack of Bibbo, which is unforgivable. We'll see how accurate that impression is.

Plotline-Watch:

Bloodsport says he survived the explosion in his last appearance because the circuitry in his weapon teleporter got "jangled" and teleported him away. Wait, so he suffered a teleporter malfunction in a comic and didn't become fused with his guns or something? Missed opportunity, if you ask me. At the very least he could have gained the ability to teleport at will, like a racist Nightcrawler. Maybe he could have inexplicably gained a German accent too.

Jimmy Olsen, who's apparently been looking for Lucy Lane since he ditched her with some wannabe rocker girls during the Massacre storyline (that had to be days ago, right?), finally finds her with those same girls, but it's okay because they're friends now. Lucy tells tells Jimmy that the Riot Grrrls invited her to that charity concert for rebuilding Metropolis we've been hearing about lately, the mere mention of which seems to offend Jimmy. Don Sparrow says: "I want to believe Jimmy’s 'whatchoo talkin' bout Willis' expression is due to his shared (with me) hatred of Jeb Friedman, the concern organizer." That, or he remembered that the concert headliner, his old friend Babe, owes him $5.

I've been reading several DC comics published in August 1994 and this is one of the few that didn't include any teasers for Zero Hour whatsoever (stuff like the future city in Green Lantern #54 or the dinosaurs in the latest issues of Guy Gardner: Warrior). At the time, some might have thought that having a full-on Nazi running around in the present could count as an anachronism but, uh, I think we've established by now that that's sadly not the case...

Plug-Watch:

On the subject of Superman punching Nazis, I fully recommend our old pal Patrick Ryall's "Superman vs. Bigots" column at The Avocado, where he goes over instances of Superman Family characters facing bigots across the ages, from the time Supes arrested Hitler in the '40s to the "Perry White vs. the Ku Klux Klan" issue from this era (which we haven't covered yet, so spoilers). Good stuff!

Now a self-plug: as mentioned in our post for the time-displaced Action #642, I've been putting together a sort of Superman '86 to '99 reading guide at my fav'rit current social media site (sorry, BlueSky), League of Comic Geeks, where I'm writing a short blurb about every issue from this era mentioning what's special, noteworthy, or weird/funny about it. At first I was just copying a paragraph or two from our old posts and throwing in a "read more" link, hoping to drive more readers to the newsletter, but I've started rewriting them to be more like something you'd see in an episode guide or a book about the '86-'99 period... which is an intriguing idea. Anyway, here's that reading guide link again, because this paragraph doesn't have enough clickable words in it already: https://leagueofcomicgeeks.com/profile/mrmxy/lists/58097/superman-86-to-99-checklist-wip

Shouts Outs-Watch:

Nazi-punching shout outs to our supporters, Aaron, Chris “Ace” Hendrix, britneyspearsatemyshorts, Patrick D. Ryall, Bheki Latha, Mark Syp, Ryan Bush, Raphael Fischer, Kit, Sam, Bol, Dave Shevlin, and Dave Blosser! Join them (and get extra non-continuity articles; we've got some cartoon-related ones lined up) via Patreon or our newsletter's "pay what you want" mode!

To see more of Don's take on this issue, including his thoughts on Jimmy's physique, keep reading!

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow):

We start with the cover, and it keeps the tradition of other Bloodsport covers where Bloodsport is firing a ridiculously high-calibre weapon.  I know the cover text (which generally I dislike) is ironic in this context, but it still bugs me slightly—Bloodsport’s views are so poisonous, even as a villain I hate seeing them represented. But buckle up, because there’s a whoooooole lot of that in this issue.

Lucky for me I’m mostly here to focus on the art, and it’s good throughout, as upsetting and violent as some of the visuals are.  The doomed, completely innocent family who are mowed down by gunfire on page 3 are very well drawn—and coloured—I love rim-lighting, and it’s rarely rendered in orange.

An odd thing happens on page 5, which you sometimes see—artists get so used to drawing everyone with superheroic proportions that even civilians get He-Man action figure physiques—this happens with Jimmy Olsen in that first panel (yes, another Superman song reference on a Jimmy Olsen t-shirt, this time it’s Crash Test Dummies being given a shout-out) looking pretty ‘roided out complete with obliques visible through his shirt.  Not to say that I don’t think Jimmy’s in good shape, but typically he’s a bit more average in build, or so it seems in this suggestive pin-up by Jerry Ordway in 1988…

[Max: You have no idea the amount of research Don did to find that pin-up, which both of us remembered but couldn't place (it turned out to be in the incredible Modern Masters: Jerry Ordway book by TwoMorrows), but it was 100% worth the effort.]

Moving on, the upside down takeoff on page 13 is well done.  Jackson Guice’s Superman always seems to have slightly longer hair than how the other artists draw him, but it’s a consistent thing, so I can’t complain too much.  There’s an unfortunately Michael Jackson-looking Superman grimace on page 18 (shamone), but by the end of the story, Superman’s extremely ticked face is a great panel.

SPEEDING BULLETS:

The Daily Planet offices are, apparently, very near Boring Plaza, named after longtime Superman great, Wayne Boring.

GODWATCH: Dig the beat cop, Marcy, characterizing Superman as an answer to prayer on page 8.  As things go wrong in other places in the book, both Ron Troupe and Superman invoke the almighty in frustration or despair.  Lastly, as Clark and Ron bond in their agreement that racism is gross and wrong, and share an amen.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Bloodsport does not support the then-current Democratic President, Bill Clinton. 

Same as the last time this Alexander Trent version of Bloodsport popped up, I find this an extremely troubling issue.  I get that Bloodsport is a villain, and a dastardly one at that. But even so, I hate some of the words and views he’s sharing—words I don’t even want to type to repeat here—appearing in a Superman comic at all.  With characters this heinous, we almost need an editorial box disclaiming Trent’s statements, as they go unchallenged in the narrative as the character monologues to himself.  Similar to the last issue with Bloodsport, there’s an awful lot of carnage and innocent death for a comics code book, and it’s something I think the better Superman stories steer away from.  It’s hard not to be bothered by the juxtaposition of a black family being gunned down discriminately against Lois and Clark comfortably flirting.

Kudos to Ron for figuring out where Bloodsport’s weapons cache was, but, like in the last appearance of this Bloodsport, I can’t help but wonder why Superman doesn’t try to ionize the air around Bloodsport using his heat vision, since it was so effective the first time he faced this kind of teleporter tactic.  A single line of dialogue could have hand-waved it away, but it seems like a missed opportunity. [Max: True. I would have even taken a "Drat, can't do that since I already did it in another issue! Gotta mix it up!"]

Some small irony that it was a clone war that reduced Metropolis to rubble in this issue, in the first issue from new Action Comics writer David Michelinie, who slinked away after kicking off the wildly controversial Clone Saga over in Spider-Man before joining DC Comics.

Any serviceman’s death in the line of duty is a tragedy, but this Carroll O’Connor looking sergeant must have been pretty close to his pension as it was, no? [Max: I think Bloodsport spared him, though... probably because he loves Archie Bunker so much.]

Missed an issue? Looking for an old storyline? Check out our new chronological issue index!

[lunarmoonanons]

Sequel to the cursed dragon w the reader older now up maybe fighting for rhaenyra to get the iron throne after viserys dies?

Dragon War

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 �� 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

A little time after the death of Viserys, his dragon daughter tries to fight for her sister's right to the throne.

(this is just gonna be about they episode about the usurpation since we haven't see any fights between the sides yet.)

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Masterlist

YN stayed in her room the day after the disastrous dinner with her sister and Alicents children. She wanted to go back to Dragonstone with her sister and await her newest niece’s arrival, but the pleas and begging from her father made her stay in Kings Landing for a fortnight. Though she hated her half brothers and her stepmother, she could never deny her father. Eventually she got bored and wanted to leave her room to find her father. But when she went to open her doors she found them locked and her unable to leave. 

“What is the meaning of this?!” YN demanded and pulled against her door. 

No one answered and she yanked against her door with all her might. Her abnormal strength, her dragon strength started to make the door splinter and bend. But she stopped when she noticed something strange she heard. YN looked out her window and noticed people being herded somewhere. 

Something was happening and she had to be smart. So she waited. She sat in her room, eye on the secret door that would lead to the passageways. YN’s mind raced at the possibilities of what was happening. Her father must’ve suffered some kind of stroke or debilitating medical thing. YN knew that Alicent and her family were plotting something and now that her father was incapacitated they were taking control of the Red Keep.

“Well they must need me for something. Probably to swear allegiance to some idiot. Well they have another thing coming, because I have no allegiance to anyone but Rhaenyra.” YN muttered to herself. 

After a good hour of pacing, the door to her room opened and Alicent entered. YN scowled and clenched her fists at the sight of her step mother. Alicent knew YN didn’t like her. Blaming her for not being the mother who birthed her, hating her for the treatment she gave Rhaenyra, hating her for giving birth to her awful half brothers and always taking their side, and for many other things. YN did not get along with her step mother, no matter how hard Alicent tried to bond with her as a babe and even now. Now YN watched as Alicent came into her room and tried to look kind. 

“I will do you some courtesy to explain yourself about the my treatment this morning. I will assume there is a good reason for it all.” YN demanded. 

“My dear regrets for your treatment princess.” Alicent said. 

YN looked at her face and knew the worst had passed. Her father wasn’t debilitated, he was gone. “Father…” Alicent said nothingas YN read her face. Not only was her father dead but the hightowers were usurping the throne from her sisters rightful claim. 

“And now you’re usurping the throne from my sister.” YN said, her brows furrowing.

“It was your father’s dying wish.”

“Oh and I’m sure only you got to hear it.” YN scoffed and crossed her arms. 

“You don’t have to believe it. Aegon will be king.” Alicent said. “I came here to ask for your support as I am going to ask Princess Rhaenys.” 

“Well you certainly are eager. Very bold of you, STEP mother.” YN bit. Her eyes burning into Alicent’s. 

“Your sister has allied herself with house Velaryon and what will it get you?” Alicent aksed. “Rhaenyra lies and has children with another man and you are still unmarried. She has had two husbands. It is she who grasps so tirelessly for the throne. And She who had left you here last.” 

“You certainly have a skewed view of what you think bothers me.” YN smiled sinisterly. 

“I loved your father but we both know your cousin Rhaenys should’ve been queen. She will come for our support don’t be on the losing side.” Alicent pleaded. 

“I will not be your puppet against my sister. You need the dragon princess on your side to legitimize your claim, but I will never support you.” YN smiled still. “You are truly pathetic asking my help. But you forget, my loyalty is with my sister not your hightower half 

Targaryens.”

YN stepped forward suddenly and grabbed Alicent’s wrist tightly, her hand unusually hot. Alicent tried to pull away but YN was stronger. Her Manic eyes bore into her stepmothers and scaded her immensely. Alicent had never seen this side of YN, she looked manic, slightly insane and bloodthirsty. 

“I am not afraid of war, you may think you have the advantage but Rhaenyra has me and I am stronger than a hundred of your men. I see through your desperate attempt here. You wish the throne for your house, for your father. But I will kill my kin before I see a hightower half breed on the throne.” YN whispered into Alicent’s ear and then harshly pushed her away. Alicent stumbling before leaving. 

YN laughed maniacally as she watched her step mother leave the room in a hurry. Her laughter stopped when she knew she was all alone. She couldn’t go out the secret passageway because she knew her secret ways would be watched.  So she waited. Day turned to night as she waited. Then she heard someone outside of her room. The door opened revealing ser Erryk holding a cloak and looking for her. 

“Come with me Princess.” He assured and YN quickly put on the cloak, coming to face with Rhaenys waiting outside. YN gave her a quick hug and they followed Ser Erryk. YN looked around the dark castle and watched Rhaenys for her reaction. They walked a while before finally making it out of the castle. Rhaenys asked for her dragon as the day broke. But hey were eventually swept up in a crowd that was being driven to the dragon pit. YN followed Rhaneys and kept a hand on her cloak. Her dragon wings were uncomfortably pressed down against her back and her hood just barely covered her horns. Eventually they made it into the dragon pit and underground. 

“What is the plan? You’re going to just fly Meleys out of here?” YN asked as she followed Rhaenys to her dragon. 

“We are leaving that is all. You are welcome to ride on Meleys’ back with me till we are in the air. Then I assume you can fly yourself?” Rhaenys explained and looked at YN. 

“You’re not going to attack them are you? YN asked. 

“I will not commit kinslaying. And I expect you to do the same.” Rhaneys got onto her dragon's back, YN followed and sat before her. 

Rhaenys commanded her dragon to go up. They crashed through the floor and broke through violently. People scattered and YN looked around for her half family. They faced them and YN scowled at their frightened faces. YN so desperately wanted to burn them. She hated them. She could end this war right here right now. But before she could jump down and do as she wished. Rhaenys held her close and whispered for her to calm down. YN obeyed. She did not want to be branded a kinslayer. So she sat back as the dragon screeched in their faces. 

They flew out of the pit. And into the sky. YN believing she made a mistake in sparing their lives.

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Aegon at the sight of his sister who looks ready to murder him

[leoruby-draws]

Decided to add another member to the Training Wheels Outlaw team, Gillian Wahrman aka Wyldheart!

This spirited young girl is a very obscure character seen in Grant Emerson's 1994 book Damage! She's only ever seen in relation to Grant, and Grant's a bit obscure himself, so she has very little appearances in the comics.

From what little we saw of her, she seemed fairly nice and pretty naive, I'm guessing she was pretty sheltered in life. Her adoptive father, Abriam Wahrman , found her in a spacecraft as a baby, so she kinda has a superman style origin (in fact, I thought she could fit the team as the superman expy, but I ended up having other ideas...).

Her father is part of the organization that gave Grant his powers but are also trying to hunt him down. She and Grant ended up as friends, but are keeping their friendship a secret for now. For now it works, tho I doubt that'll stay the case. She and Grant get along very well, he helps ground her and tries to prevent people from taking advantage of her naivety. In turn she helps him lighten up a bit and have fun!

Anyways, when she learned about Grant hanging out with this strange group, she decided she wanted in! And so she did! Jason is amused if a bit overwhelmed by her positivity, he's not quite sure how to deal with her but at least he has fun with her. The rest of the team likes her cheerfulness, bit of a break from the more serious and 'edgy' members attitudes.

Here's a couple of extra doodles of Gillian meeting the others:

This last one is was a first draft of her, I'll be real her outfit is kinda strange, simultaneously both overly designed and yet super basic. I didn't really like it honestly, but I could see underneath all that there was a way to make it work. I'm not sure if I succeeded, might've oversimplified it but I tried.

Now I'm gonna stop right here and talk about something real quick. If you go over to the DC fandom wiki and go to Gillian's page, here's what you see in the sidebar:

Is this some sort of mistake? I don't know if I missed something, but in none of her appearances was she shown to be a New God or Genesisian. Was she planned to be one but the writers dropped that plot point? Or did they not get the chance since Grant's book got canceled? If not, why did the wiki put that in? I don't know man, but I really do like that idea, like a lot. In fact in my au, she is in fact a New God! Perhaps her parents got in trouble of sorts and maybe sent her away to protect her? I'm kinda wanna make up a story of the parents being on opposite sides and their Romeo/Juliet romance caused an uproar. I'm not too well versed in New God lore, so I don't if that would work but it's one idea at least.

Here's a page of Gillian finding out her heritage:

Everyone looks shocked! (btw that guy in the back is Iron Munro, who helps out Grant sometimes). If Gillian's a new god, what would she be the god of? Maybe something like Harmony or Joy.

Well I hope to draw Gillian some more, she's a pretty fun addition to the team, and I hoped you liked all this!

A correction! Gillian is a New God, it's explained in Damage #8!

This is what happens when you speed 'read' and completely look over the details. Sorry about that, I can be pretty spacey sometimes. Thanks to @isfjmel-phleg for the correction! Still isn't it cool and unique that Gillian's a new god? DC should bring her back!

[intairnwetrust]

Round three in defence of Violet Sorrengail

because apperently she is still the bad guy regarding Xaden's and her relationship problems and this take irritates the fuck out of me more and more the more I reread Iron Flame because have we read the same book?

Buckle up my dragon riders (who if we're honest half of us would end up like Dylan) this will be a bit long.

So what can you expect from this post:

I'm going to copy some paragraphs from my post "Round two in defense of Violet Sorrengail". On the one hand because I still stand by what I said and on the other hand so that you have a more chronological progression. Round three is basically an extension and supplement to round two (and other small posts i made on that topic)

Also i will absolutly call out Xaden on his bullshit but i won't paint him here as the devil. I still love Xaden it's just my annoyance with him is compounded by the fact that he 100% deserves it looking at his behaivor and how he handled things and the fact that certain parts of the fandom hate Violet for their relationship problems and won't look at Xaden at all.

Also some words to their relationship overall

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

First, I want to address the lack of empathy for Violet

People are usually like "I know Violet is in a tough spot and she is only 23 but still..."

No honey it's so much fucking more then that.

I would love to see your reaction when you find out that your whole life, everything you believed in, was a lie. Then on top of that, you didn't even have time to process the whole thing properly.

After the revelation, Violet went straight into battle, in which she almost died! Then she finds out that her brother is still alive and then overall her being involved in the whole revolution. Violet didn't even got a break to process the whole thing properly and on top on that, in the first half of the time she didn't even have anyone to turn to. Her two dragons betrayed her and so did the man she loved and who wants to discuss relationship problem with a brother who played dead for 6 years? Plus she couldn't really talk to her friends either because then she would be forced to explain the context to them so they could develop an understanding, which obviously wasn't possible.

I completly agree that all this running in circles between the two of them was annoying as hell and you really only saw improvements almost at the end but Xaden is sooo much more to blame for the two of them not making progress than Violet.

Moreover it doesn't hinder the plot at all. We are shown their problems at the beginning and when she is with Xaden. I know shocking that we have come across problems that a couple is having when that said couple comes into the picture. She didn't cry about her problems to anyone accessible. Whenever we learned about her relationship problems it was in her inner monologue. It is completly normal, it is realistic, for someone in Violet's situation to thing about her whole relationship. If she wouldn't think about her issues with Xaden then it would means she wouldn't care.

You know you see this mindset in many areas of life where you think you would act better than the person in question, but how can I believe them when so many people can't put themselves in Violet's position? I admire Violet for being able to keep up with Xaden's bullshit for so long. I don't think I could.

The bullshit I will adress now

Like Ufff Xaden I love you but do better.

Let's start with empty promisses:

“You are going to tell me everything once I can properly shield, right?” It’s all I can do not to grab onto him and start shaking. Hard. “That’s what you promised in your bedroom.” He is not doing this to me. “‘Anything you want to know and everything you don’t.’ Those were your words.”

I so seriously wish he had never said that he would give her complete disclosure then at least I and Violet in this matter, would not have right to be mad about it that he wouldn't keep It

And another promise or rather let's say he didn't live up to his words

“I’ll earn your trust as soon as you realize you don’t need full disclosure. You only have to have the guts to start asking the questions you actually want answers to."

This statement annoys me on so many levels. First of all, let me quote Violet for some variety: "Trust is earned, and he isn’t even trying." He is indeed not trying or better tried not enough throughout the book. He didn't prove to Violet that she doesn't need full disclosure. We are here in chapter 3, unfortunately looks like this was forshadowing. Now to the second part of the Statement. *Talking a deep breath* Exuse me the audacity??? When you have the guts??? He did not just put the responsibilty on Violet here. Sirrrr you are the one who fucked up.

Which brings us to the next point (Hard work and this stupid 'Ask me a question'-game)

"I’m not afraid of hard work, especially not when I know just how sweet the rewards are."

Hmmm sureeee. You whole behaivor in IF says otherwise aka the whole question game .

Xaden is the one who broke Violet trust but for him waiting for a question from Violet basically means he expects from Violet to make the first step when he actually should do it! He broke her trust not the other way around. He makes it so easy for himself when he himself said he don't mind hard work to get what he wants. Yes, then act like that.

Also let's add another one:

“Both ways, but you’re shutting me out while I’m trying my damnedest to open up to you.”Says the man who’s never so much as told me he loves me. If he does. Gods, I’m so sick of having to make the first move when it comes to this man.

This! This! This! Yeah Violet I was also sick of it while reading the book.

today isn’t the day to open myself up to that rejection, too.“Sure, as long as you can keep your secrets. Has it ever occurred to you that this”—I gesture between us—“is all because you don’t trust me?” I take a step backward. “You expect complete, blind faith without giving it. It. Goes. Both. Ways.”

First of all This! This! This! and Yeah Xaden where is your hard work?

Also sorry but no this boy had the nerve to look disappointed when Violet didn't ask her question. Honey you could have simply start the conversation!

Like even Garrik is calling him out "Just doing my part to help your communication skills thrive in a stable relationship."

Now ladies and Gentleman let's jump to the prime of I want to struggle Xaden - Chapter 55

*Talking a deeep breath*

"You let me stew in it for months?"

"You didn't ask me!" He pushes off the wall but stops himself from taking more than a step. "I've been begging you for months to ask me what you want to know, to break down that last insurmountable wall you're keeping between us, but you didn't. Why?"

He has the nerve to put this on me?

Yeah seriously the audacity. He has the nerve to put it on her???

"You're the one who said you'd never be entirely truthful with me. How am I supposed to know what you will and will not answer? How am I supposed to know what there is to ask?"

Yes exactly

"I'm not mad about the deal." How does he not understand? "I'm pissed that you kept it from me, that you insist on making me ask for things you should openly share

And this is a principle Xaden and the hater don’t understand.

Because you were too pissed about my refusal to answer the superficial questions about the revolution to ask the real ones about us.

Let's talk about this quote in detail because it shows the two main issues I have with people calling Violet stupid and whiny for wanting full disclosure (or let's say two and half reasons because Xaden literally promised her that!)

First it's not (only) about the revolution it's about the simple fact that Xaden, subconsciously, shows Violet that he doesn't trust her when he doesn't speak up on his own about things that should be mentioned regarding their relationship; them and on top makes her work for it with expecting her to ask the right question.

He can tell me or he can choose not to, but I’m done having to guess which questions to ask.

This speaks for itself

Second, now let's look at Information about the actual revolution because Violet is not as stupid as the hater makes her out to be because let me quote this again "You are going to tell me everything once I can properly shield, right?"

Violet is not just like that standing here demanding crucial information that could put everyone in danger if it becomes public. She explicitly said once she can shield. Again Violet is not stupid. Moreover once she can shield it's her fucking right to know. Violet is such an important part of the revolution starting with her signet being such a powerful weapon. But wait there's more. She got important information about the Venin and worked out the plan on how to get information to restore the wards and also actively translate that information. She has a right to know what is going on.

Another point is how he handled Cat, or rather how he did NOOTT handle her.

Excuse me it was his ex who was vindictive and hateful to Violet for literally existing and he did nothing. Why did we get 'I will throw you off a cliff myself' from Dain and not Xaden? What annoys me even more and also confuses me is the fact that he even suspected that Cat would cause problems, hence the runes in her dagger like then why not talk to her??? Or the fact that Cat was literally his betrothed.

He basically just go with the flow and let Violet Deal with it (Although it has to be mentioned Cat just being a bitch, Xaden can't help it either)

Now after all this bullshit the light at the end of the tunnel - Chapter 58

“We don’t keep secrets. No more ask me. No more tests to see who’s in and who’s out of this relationship. It’s full disclosure between us…” I take a steadying breath and map out the golden flecks in his eyes just in case it’s the last time. “Or it’s nothing.”

“Done.”

OMG it was that easy?

"I understand that there will be times you can’t tell me everything—that’s the nature of what we do as riders—but I need you to stop setting me up for failure by insisting I figure out what there is to ask."

"Done."

Omg it was that easyyy??

Okay In the end, their whole problem was reflected on again by Violet and yes Violet even blamed herself partially, she was scared to ask because she feared the truth, but considering what the question was about (talking about the scars on his back) who can blame her? Xaden should have been much more accommodating all the way there. Violet's world was turned upside down, not his. Xaden shouldn't have waited for Violet to ask a question, but simply should have started the conversation.

Also I know it wouldn't have been actually that easy considering their circumstances. They're leading a freaking revolution and at the beginning of the book they were geographically separated so realistically there wasn't that much time to simply talk but the point still stands when you really want to be annoyed with someone because of these constant, repetitive and therefore annoying problems that the two of them had in their communication then please look at Xaden first.

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

Now some words to their relationship overall.

They fucking love each other.

They are unhinged for each other. They would die for each other.

It's the fact how happy Violet was that Xaden wrote her a letter. It's the fact how obssesed Xaden is with Violet's hair. It's the fact how both crush for the other. How both long for the other.

“You’re my gravity. Nothing in my world works without you.”

“Gravity,” he whispers, a slow, beautiful smile curving his mouth.

I wish everyone who says Violet doesn't deserve Xaden (and vice versa) wet socks for the rest of their lives 😛

If you have read this far, take some cookies 🍪🍪🍪

[jinkoh]

rat in the trap

haknyeon x fem!reader

summary: you knew haknyeon wasn’t coming to the bar for you. it was just for his job, to investigate. and yet, when he gave you that sweet smile of his, you couldn’t stop yourself from hoping for something more, for something real...

tags: undercover!haknyeon, suggestive, making out, angst, manipulation, mafia au type themes; warnings: alcohol, gun violence (non graphic), blood

wc: 10.6k

a/n: this was actually inspired by the convoyz episodes, specifically something sunwoo said (you'll see~), but the plot strayed very far from that. anyway i hope you'll enjoy this--it's been in my WIPs since february so i'm glad to finally have it done hehe

masterlist

You were pretty convinced your boss was entangled in something messy. For one he was paying you in cash—not exactly a common thing at a respectable business. Then again, by itself it wouldn't be strange enough to be alerted. The other thing though were the men with their black suits and slicked back hair that came in once or twice a month. There were usually two of them, younger than you'd think and definitely younger than your boss. They'd come right after closing time when you'd already be wiping down the counters. Most of the time they’d just head straight for the little office your boss had in one of the backrooms and leave just as quickly again. But once in a while they sat down in the corner booth, ordering a whiskey on ice and waiting for your boss to sit with them. You didn't know much about them, aside from their drinking preferences and their names that you'd overheard before. Your boss seemed to purposely keep you away from their talks, telling you to leave the closing up to him even though he usually pushed as much work as possible onto you. Not that you'd complain—closing up was annoying and it seemed to be better for your personal safety to not get involved anyway. Most importantly though, you received a generous tip on days like these. He'd give it to you under the claim that business had been good that day, but you knew there was more to it; a bribe to keep your mouth shut about something you didn’t even know anything about. And you weren’t going to try and find out—curiosity killed the cat and satisfaction wouldn't pay your rent if you lost this job.

With all of this in mind, you had your suspicions when Haknyeon came in for the first time. He probably thought he was doing a really good job staying undiscovered, but you'd worked at the bar long enough to know who belonged to your usual clientele and who didn’t. And Haknyeon—well, he was just a tad bit too clean. Even if he undid the topmost button of his perfectly ironed white shirt—he was still wearing a perfectly ironed white shirt. He looked like a salary man or a lawyer, or, if your gut feeling was right, a cop in disguise. 

Rather than one of the tables, he sat down at the bar with a little sigh.

"Rough day at work?" you asked with your sweetest smile. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer and all that. Though, frankly, you weren’t sure what he'd turn out to be. If it came down to it, you’d choose your personal safety above the law anyday. Still, a sweet smile couldn’t hurt. Especially not if it was returned this brightly.

"Not particularly," he admitted easily. "I'm just a little bored, a little tired."

"Bored, hm?" You tilted your head. "This isn’t exactly an exciting place though. Most people that come here just want to silently drown their sorrows in a glass of whiskey. There isn’t a lot here that could help with boredom."

"You're here, though."

For a second you just stared at him, taken off guard by the comment. You hadn't intended to flirt with him. Mostly you'd just tried to casually let him know that you knew the place well—making yourself look valuable seemed like a good idea. But his remark had actually made your heart stutter for a second there.

"Sorry," he chuckled awkwardly, his eyes cast down. "It was a bit much, wasn't it? I just meant to say that you seem to be an interesting person."

You found your smile again. “Likewise.”

“I’m Haknyeon, by the way.”

“So, Haknyeon, what can I get for you?”

“You’re not going to tell me your name?”

You shrugged, a challenging grin on your face. “Do I have to?”

With a laugh, Haknyeon looked up at you through his lashes. You liked the spark in his eyes. “I’ll have a beer then,” he said instead of pressing further. You liked that too.

Haknyeon kept coming after that, sitting at the counter every single time. He made casual conversation, telling you silly stories about his colleagues from his boring office job (which you were more or less certain were really colleagues from his police job) and he also asked about you, your likes and dislikes, your life, your work at the bar, the bar itself. It seemed to confirm your suspicions—why else would he want to know so much about you? And yet a small little hope started to bloom in your chest, that maybe you’d been wrong, that maybe he was coming for you after all. There was just something about him that made you feel attached. Perhaps it was the way he’d slowly repeated your name after you finally told him, nodding as if to say that it suited you. Or perhaps it was his laughter or the way he’d smile fondly whenever he’d been the one to make you laugh. Whatever it was, you found yourself falling quickly, against your better knowledge.

“I think you should go out with me,” Haknyeon said out of nowhere one day, before he’d even gotten his drink.

“What?”

“I’ve thought about it and it would only make sense.”

You laughed. “How so?”

“Well, I think we’ve gotten to know each other as well as we can in this context. So if I want to get to know you better, I have no choice but to take you on a date.” 

He was taking it too far, you thought. If this was really all just about his undercover investigation, he shouldn’t do this, he shouldn’t ask you out. He shouldn’t toy with your feelings in this way if his only objective was to get information on your boss. Naturally, you should have declined. You were already too invested in this, in him and seeing him outside surely wouldn’t help. 

But that silly spark of hope, lingering somewhere in the back of your mind like a persistent  little virus made you act a fool.

“Okay then,” you replied. “So, in which context do you want to get to know me instead?”

“We could go bowling. Or how about go-karts?”

“You want to go karting? For a first date? How well can you get to know me if we’re sitting in separate karts, unable to actually talk?”

He shrugged. “Well, I’d be able to see how dirty you’re willing to play to win. I think that says a lot about someone’s personality.”

“Oh?” You chuckled. “So I take it you’re a goody-two-shoes that likes to play fair?”

He grinned. “Of course.”

It turned out that Haknyeon was, in fact, not a goody-two-shoes at all. He played to win and he’d find a way to get there. Surprising, for a cop, you thought. Then again, maybe you had to be a little cunning if you wanted to excel at undercover work. (But how excellent could he be, if you had him exposed the second he’d walked in?)

“Wanna go again?” Haknyeon asked with a laugh as he slipped his helmet off after another round of mercilessly beating you.

“You really want to destroy all my confidence, huh?”

“Sorry,” he gave you an apologetic smile. “I’ll let you win this time?”

“Oh, don’t you dare, I don’t want your pity.”

He stepped a little closer, helmet under his arm. “Wanna call it a day then and have some drinks instead? My treat.”

You weren’t one to say no to a free drink, even less so when he let you choose the location. So, a little later you found yourself sitting next to him at a table in your favorite café. It felt so much like a regular date, that you almost forgot your whole undercover cop theory. He didn’t talk about the bar or your boss—he seemed to really be there for you, intrigued by the person you were outside of your job. With every second you spent together, the hope that this was something real grew stronger until it was all you could think about. He asked if he could see you home later that evening and you didn’t stop to consider whether it was smart or not to let him know where you lived, because you were too focused on the prospect of being with him for just a little longer, another minute, another hour, maybe even the night. If he’d asked, you would have invited him in for a coffee or a snack or a movie or any other excuse he could have possibly come up with. But he didn’t ask. He gave you a bright smile when he said goodbye, telling you that he’d been happy to spend the day with you. His hands briefly brushed against yours. They felt warm. You wanted to hold on but neither of you did. You pulled away to fumble for your keys. Haknyeon waited until you’d unlocked the door and got inside before leaving. You tried not to feel disappointed as you watched him walk down the street from the window in your apartment.

“We’re going to close up,” you said as you were already wiping down the counter, while Haknyeon was still sitting right there, watching you.

“Yeah, I’ll wait,” he said simply. It wouldn’t be the first time that he’d stayed until your shift was over to walk you home. But today was different. You’d seen the little red cross in your boss’ calendar. They would come today. And while you understood that it was probably the kind of opportunity Haknyeon was waiting for and maybe even the only reason he always stayed behind and saw you home, you also knew that you’d get in trouble if you didn’t manage to kick him out on time. 

“Don’t worry, you can go home first.”

He tilted his head. “You know that I don’t mind waiting for you.”

“No,” you insisted with a little more force this time. “Not today.”

He seemed to understand, to some extent, that him sticking around would cause problems for you. “I’ll wait outside then, around the corner?” He proposed. “Is that okay?”

You contemplated for a second but then you nodded. Even if it wasn’t anything to him, you liked walking home together. He gave you a happy smile and then left. Soon after, the door opened again, the little bell above it ringing into the silence of the bar. The two men had shown up just the way you’d known they would.

“Whiskey on ice,” the one who you thought was called Sunwoo said instead of a greeting, his expression cold and intimidating. 

“Of course,” you nodded and got the bottle out, while the other of the two—Jacob?—nudged him in the side.

“No need to be so grim to someone who has nothing to do with this, hm?” He said, almost teasingly, before turning to you with an apologetic smile. “Make that two.”

It didn’t take long for your boss to come out and you were excused as soon as you’d gotten their drinks. You almost felt a little guilty as you made your way down the street to the corner where Haknyeon was waiting. He greeted you with a smile and a wave as if nothing happened.

“So, who are they?” He asked, probably thinking he was sounding all casual. 

“Hm?” you feigned ignorance. “Who?”

“The two men that came in.”

“You saw them?”

“Well, they basically came in the second I was out. Why weren’t they asked to go?”

You didn’t know what to tell him. You didn’t know any details, but it also wasn’t like you knew nothing. There were their names, and the black briefcase they brought. But what if the moment you told Haknyeon he would drop you like a hot potato? What if the moment you’d give him the information you had you would lose all value to him? And then you’d be left with nothing. 

“Just old friends of my boss,” you replied vaguely. The generous tip you’d received before leaving felt impossibly heavy in your pocket. 

“Hm,” Haknyeon nodded slowly, thoughtfully, as if he didn’t quite believe that that was all. But then his sweet, sweet smile was back. “I see.”

It got quiet between the two of you, and with the silence your fear of losing him got impossibly louder. It didn’t matter that you never even had him in the first place. 

The back of his hand brushed against yours, a faint accidental touch. “Sorry,” he said with a light chuckle. But you weren’t a coward this time, though maybe rather than bravery it was desperation that made you act. You grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. His skin felt chapped around his knuckles, but it was as warm as you remembered it to be.

“It’s okay,” you replied and your voice came out weaker than anticipated, afraid that he would pull away. But instead he squeezed your hand with a happy little hum, before slipping your intertwined fingers into the pocket of his coat. He held on tightly, his thumb drawing slow patterns onto your skin.

When the two of you reached your apartment, you lingered for a moment. Neither of you said anything and yet neither of you showed any intention to let go either. Somehow it felt so scary to part, as if this fragile thing you hoped existed between the two of you would break if you said goodbye for the night. So you didn’t.

“You can come up,” you said without meeting his gaze. “If you want.”

He hesitated for a second, searching for eye contact. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Another beat passed and you thought this would be it, he would draw the line and leave.

“Okay,” he whispered. 

He followed you upstairs and waited patiently until you’d unlocked the door to your apartment. Then, for a moment, you both stood in silence in your dark hallway. You didn’t turn on the light. You just looked at him through the darkness, the faint light coming in from the windows reflecting in his eyes. You moved a little closer, your gaze dropping to his lips before coming up again. Your heart was racing in your chest, nervous about his next move, anxious he would back out. He stepped in too, until his breath was tangible on your skin but he didn’t close the remaining distance just yet. There was a tension in his jaw as he examined your face, as if he was holding himself back.

“Are you sure?” he asked again.

“I’m sure,” your voice was soaked with impatience, sounding almost forceful.

He looked at you for another long second. But then his hand came up to lift your chin and he finally kissed you, crushing into you as if he’d been hungry for this, for you. When he pulled away you were breathless, shaky hands clinging to the fabric of his shirt.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while,” he mumbled into your lips.

“Me too. And I still want to do it more.”

He chuckled and there was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that you found unbearably attractive. “Not satisfied yet, huh?” He licked his lips. “I like that.”

“Fuck,” you hissed without even meaning to, and it just drew another little laugh from him.

You stumbled backwards through the hallway, one of your hands feeling for the handle of your bedroom door while the other one was still holding onto Haknyeon, pulling him along with you. As soon as you’d managed to press down the handle, Haknyeon reached up above you and pushed the door open, too impatient to wait for you to open the door. You almost tripped over backwards with the door suddenly moving behind you, but his arm quickly came around your waist to steady you and pull you against him. 

“Careful there,” he whispered before his lips captured yours again. His fingers sneaked underneath the hem of your shirt, a tight grip on soft skin. “Can’t have you getting hurt.”

He walked you backwards until your legs hit your bed and then he carefully lowered you onto the mattress, hands on your lower back keeping you from falling. The moment your back hit the soft mattress he followed suit, hovering above you, his arms propped up on either side of your head. Neither of you made a move, just taking a moment to really look at each other. His eyes were dark and pretty and his lips looked plush and so very kissable.

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered without thinking, only realizing that maybe he would have preferred handsome after the words were already out. 

But Haknyeon just smiled, crinkles forming in the corners of his eyes. “Funny, I was going to say the same thing.” 

He brushed a strand of hair out of your face and then he kissed you again and again, lips slowly wandering down to your neck. His hands wandered back to your hips, pushing up your shirt and you automatically raised your arms to help him slip it off. He made quick work of your bra after that, and you would have thought you’d feel exposed, but his warm hands made you feel safe instead. You realized then, that you were in too deep. The way he touched you and the way he looked at you made your chest feel so full and there was no doubt in your heart that you were in love with him, even if it was all just a game on his part.

“Hak?”

“Mhm?” He looked up at you with curious eyes.

“You won’t leave me behind, will you?” you whispered, knowing all too well that there was no way you could trust his answer. After all, you couldn’t even trust that the name you called him was really his. Still, even if it all meant nothing, at least for tonight you wanted to indulge in the delusions that this was something real. “You won’t let go, right?”

His grip on you tightened, as if to prove that he wouldn’t. “Never,” he replied and his eyes looked so genuine that you almost believed him. “I won’t.”

The delusions didn’t last you very long—in fact, they left with the first rays of the morning sun. 

“I'm—maybe I'm not who you think I am,” Haknyeon started tentatively, mumbling the words into the back of your neck as if he didn’t have the bravery to say them to your face. You’d hoped this conversation wouldn’t come this early. Maybe he felt guilty, now that he’d slept with you. Maybe he’d realized he’d taken it too far and wanted to call it off. His arm stayed wrapped around you though, and you tried to find some reassurance in that.

“It's okay, Hak,” you whispered.

He paused, seemingly unsure what to make of your response. “What do you mean?”

A lump was in your throat and it felt hard to speak. You were scared, you realized. “I had my suspicions from the moment you walked in,” you pressed out, trying to make it sound light and casual as if it wasn’t a big deal, as if you weren’t anxious he’d throw you away after using you. “Did you really think you were being subtle? You can't come to a place like that looking so proper."

“Oh.” He huffed a laugh. "Didn't play my role that well, did I?"

“No. I don’t think my boss has any suspicions though.”

“I mean, that’s good to hear. But I’m not really worried about your boss right now, to be honest.”

“What are you worried about then?”

He shifted behind you, propping himself up on his other arm, to be able to look at you.

“You.”

“I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

He almost seemed offended, you could think that. “I didn’t think you were.” 

 “Then what?” You frowned.

“I’m worried about what you’re thinking now. About me, about the situation.”

“It’s not like I can change it,” you replied, unable to meet his gaze. “And it’s my fault too. I knew you were just getting close to me for the information, but I still let you in.”

“I didn’t just—It’s more complicated than that,” he protested.

“How so?”

“Because—,” he hesitated for a second, his eyes searching your face for something, but then he still continued despite not finding it. “Because I actually like you, y/n. I’m serious about you and about all the things I said yesterday."

You just stared at him wide eyed, unable to register his words.

“I know it’s hard to trust me under these circumstances. And I—I can’t tell you everything, not even now. But I can tell you the most important truth: I like you.”

“For real?” You’d been hoping for this kind of outcome the whole time, but now that it seemed to be true it felt hard to grasp. “Even without everything that’s been going on?”

He smiled. “Especially without everything that’s been going on. And definitely still after it’s all resolved.” 

“Let’s resolve it quickly, then,” you said with your voice trembling, before you turned to wrap your arms around him and snuggle into his chest. “I want it to be over quickly.”

He let himself fall back into the pillows and pulled you on top of him. “Yeah, me too.”

“Hak?” you mumbled a few days later, all cuddled up on your couch together.

“Mhm?” he hummed, the low sound vibrating in his chest.

“It’s not your real name, is it? Haknyeon I mean—it’s fake, right?”

“Why are you asking? You want to call me by my real name?”

“Is that so weird?” 

“No, it’s not weird at all. But I like it when you call me Hak.”

You propped yourself up to look at him. “Do you?”

“I do.” He smiled, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair out of your forehead. “It feels special because you’re the only one who calls me like that. It feels like a nickname just between us.”

You felt like melting at his words, but there was also this odd feeling that maybe he was just saying this because he didn't want to tell you the truth. “So, you won’t tell me?”

“No, I can,” he whispered, lifting his head to leave a peck on your lips. “I can easily tell you.” He kissed you again.

“So?”

“It’s He Nian.”

“That’s pretty.”

“Mhm,” he hummed, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “My dad chose it for me.”

He said it casually, as if it wasn’t anything special, but to you it felt big. It was the first time he’d mentioned his family at all and it made your chest fill with warmth. Surely, this once again proved that he trusted you, right? That he was opening up to you.

Since Haknyeon had decided to trust you with his identity, you decided to trust him too. He wouldn’t leave you, even when he no longer needed you to get to your boss, so there was no real reason anymore not to spill everything. You told him what you knew, and even though the information was rather limited, it seemed to be helpful. And more than that, there seemed to be other ways in which you could be helpful to the operation.

“We need his books,” Haknyeon admitted to you, when you were sitting on your couch together, cuddled up and wrapped in a fuzzy blanket.

“His books?”

“Yeah. We can easily get the official ones, but there has to be more, there have to be books with the actual money transfers.”

“And that’s where I come in?”

He seemed uncomfortable with the blunt question. “To be honest, I would prefer to keep you out of it. But we’re out of options. Once we get a warrant his connections are sure to tell him. He would know beforehand and get rid of all traces. But without those books it will be very hard to catch him.”

“So now…you want me to steal it?”

“Not exactly—rather than that it’d be making sure they don’t disappear?”

“I—I don’t know,” you admitted. You wanted to help but you had no clue how you could possibly make that work out.

“It’s okay,” Haknyeon quickly reassured. “Don’t feel pressured. If you want, you can also meet up with the team first, hear the plan, and decide then?”

You nodded slowly, trying to think about it realistically. Maybe that was a good idea. You could still back out if it seemed too dangerous.

Meeting his team was intimidating. Somehow it all felt so serious and of course you knew it was, you’d known it from the first time you’d seen Jacob and Sunwoo set foot into the bar. But now that you really saw that special agents and all that were involved, now that you had proof that Haknyeon had indeed come to the bar to investigate, it felt a lot more scary. He seemed to feel your nerves as you stood in front of the door to the meeting room.

“You’re not the criminal here, you know that right?” He said with an encouraging grin, gently squeezing your hand.

“Sorry, I know, it’s just—I was never involved with the police before, it’s scary.”

“Well, we’re not exactly the police—”

“That’s not helping!” You playfully boxed him into the shoulder and he yelped dramatically, acting as if it had actually hurt.

“I wasn’t aware it was bring-your-lover-to-work-day,” someone suddenly commented and your head snapped around to the tall man standing behind you with a raised eyebrow.

“Don’t be like that, Hyunjae,” Haknyeon complained but there didn’t seem to be any bad blood between them.

“I mean, I don’t care, but maybe tone it down a little once we’re inside. I don’t think everyone will like it if you involve personal matters.”

The words did nothing to make you feel better about the situation, but Haknyeon didn’t seem all that worried about it. 

“Yes, yes,” he easily agreed as if the comment went in one ear and out the other. “Let’s just go in for now, I don’t want to get a penalty for being late.”

When you stepped inside there were already a bunch of agents there, but when a guy called Eric complained about you being late, Haknyeon simply brushed it off, saying it hadn’t even been 5 minutes yet.

“He’s right,” one of them agreed, before adding with a grin, “and Joe and Younghoon aren’t here yet anyway, so they’ll have to pay the penalty.” You didn’t need to be introduced to realize that the guy speaking must have been the boss among these guys; there was just a certain aura to him that made it very clear. He introduced himself anyway, the firm handshake and the title senior agent before his name—Lee Sangyeon—proving your suspicions to be right.

Despite not everyone being there, you all sat down and he gave a brief overview of the plan, leaving out enough details in case you decided to back out but telling you enough so you could understand what was asked of you. Honestly, the way he explained it didn’t make it sound all that hard. All you were supposed to do was keep an eye on the safe in your boss’ back office shortly before the raid and give a signal should he try to get rid of any evidence. It  seemed doable and also not that risky, since someone would come to get you out the second you gave a sign.

“You don’t have to agree this easily,” Haknyeon assured when you shared your thoughts on it, “you can take your time to think it through.”

“No, it’s fine. If this helps resolve everything more quickly I’m willing to do it.”

Sangyeon smiled satisfiedly. “Perfect. We’ll fill you in on more details shortly before the raid—the less you know for now the better for both of us.”

Just then the door to the meeting room opened and a tall man came in, briefly apologizing for being late. After him followed another one and the second his gaze met yours you felt the blood freezing in your veins. Instinctively you reached for Haknyeon’s hand under the table, trying to find some sense of security in it. The guy who’d stepped in looked very different now, put together and upright in his ironed white shirt, but there was no mistaking it—he was one of the guys from the bar: Sunwoo.

Your stomach felt sick with fear but no one else seemed to share the sentiment, casually welcoming him in.

“You’ll never learn to be on time, will you, Joe?” Hyunjae asked with a small laugh and Sunwoo—Joe—just shrugged and plopped into one of the chairs.

Your grip on Haknyeon’s hand tightened and he threw you a small worried glance before clearing his throat.

“Since the basics are all clear now, I think it’s time for y/n to leave—can’t have her be late to work and get fired this close to D-Day, right?”

“Oh, sure,” Sangyeon dismissed you easily and only a few seconds later you were in the hallway, almost running down to the elevator.

“What’s gotten into you?” Haknyeon asked, trying to keep up.

You only replied once the elevator door had shut behind the two of you, safe from any nosy ears.

“Joe,” you pressed out, “He’s not—I’ve seen him before. He’s been at the bar.”

He seemed confused. “And?”

“No, Hak, he’s been at the bar.” Why didn’t he get it? “He isn’t who you think he is.”

Things finally seemed to click into place, but instead of sharing your panic, Hakyneon just smiled. “Ah, got it. You mean he’s Sunwoo.”

You stared at your boyfriend in horror. “You know?”

“Of course, I know. Y/n, he’s undercover.”

“Like you?” Something didn’t seem to add up but you couldn’t place it.

“Like me. But don’t tell anyone, not everyone here is in the know. Can’t ever be too careful with whom to trust, right?”

You tried to push the uneasy feeling in your guts aside. “But I can trust you, right?” You looked him straight in the eyes, trying to find a hint of something, anything in them. He didn’t shy away from your gaze.

“Of course.” He squeezed your hand. “I’m on your side.”

Only two weeks later you were back at their office, getting a run down of all the details you needed to know about the operation. The raid was supposed to take place a few days from now, but they suspected that your boss would probably get a tip before that and try to rid himself of any evidence. And that’s where you came in—you were supposed to keep your eyes open during work hours and report back if there was anything suspicious. They had some men tailing him too, but with how your boss was on high alert these days it would be too risky to have someone shadow him from inside the bar. Even Haknyeon wasn’t drinking at the counter anymore these days, only coming by to pick you up after work and see you home like the doting boyfriend he was. The whole plan seemed to be easy enough though and you didn’t feel too worried knowing that Haknyeon’s team would be ready to come in the second you gave a sign. 

Since your boyfriend was on duty to check equipment after the meeting, Younghoon was supposed to drive you home instead. Haknyeon didn’t seem exactly pleased about it and you were reminded of what he’d said last time, can’t ever be too careful with whom to trust, right? Younghoon, you supposed, was not among those he trusted. Sangyeon decided on it though, and Haknyeon didn’t refute him. 

You were already on your way to the parking garage, when you realized you’d forgotten your scarf back in the meeting room. Younghoon waited by the elevator while you rushed back. Surprisingly, the door was slightly ajar. Just when you were about to push it open, you heard voices from inside and instinctively moved aside so you wouldn’t be seen. 

“This will all work out, right?” Eric asked. So even he got nervous, it seemed. Then again, their part in all of this was surely a lot more nerve wracking than yours.

“What are you so worried for?” It was your boyfriend’s voice. “Didn’t we already win?”

“Exactly,” a low chuckle, “After all we have Haknyeon on our side. He plays the nastiest of all.” 

“Sunwoo knows what’s up.” When you risked a glance through the crack of the door, Haknyeon was grinning self-satisfied and there was a slyness in his expression that you’d only ever seen faint traces of. It made a shudder run down your spine, but inexplicably, you also found yourself being attracted to this version of him. You lingered for another second, spotting your scarf right there over the back of the chair you’d sat in, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go in. It felt like you’d heard something you weren’t supposed to hear. Something wasn’t quite right. You rushed back down the hallway to where Younghoon was waiting, confused when you showed up without your scarf. Once you were in the car, you pulled out your phone to find a message from Haknyeon. It was a picture of him, holding up your scarf into the camera. He looked so lovely and innocent and it made you want to forget all about the weird feelings from before.

guess what you forgot~ i’ll bring it over tonight<3

You were able to distract yourself from the conversation you'd overheard just fine during work, all your focus on your boss’ behavior, looking out for anything suspicious (there wasn’t anything, unless his awful aloha shirt counted as suspicious). But once your work shift was over and you saw Haknyeon waiting for you outside, your mind automatically wandered back to it. He greeted you by looping your scarf around your neck and pulling you into a kiss and it was so sweet and so romantic, and yet you couldn’t relax into it at all.

“Hey,” he said with a smile, not letting you go just yet.

“Hey,” you replied, unable to meet his eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just tired, let’s get going?”

He didn’t seem convinced, but he reluctantly agreed, leaving a peck on your nose before taking you to his car and driving the two of you back to your place. As always, you realized, because not once had he offered to go to his place. When you'd asked about it before he'd said it was too dangerous and it would have to wait until things were over. You'd believed it then, but now you were feeling uneasy.

When you still hadn’t gotten more talkative even by the time you were cleaning up after dinner, Haknyeon tried asking about it again. “Something is wrong, isn’t it?” 

You contemplated for a second, watched him take off the rubber gloves and drain the sink after doing the dishes, but then you decided to just be honest. “I heard you.”

“Hm?” He tilted his head in confusion.

“Earlier at the office, I was going to grab my scarf, but you were talking.”

“Why didn’t you come in?” A small grin appeared on his lips. “Or did you perhaps want me to get the scarf for you? Like Cinderella’s slipper?” 

Either he really didn’t think of the conversation as something worth hiding, or he was damn good at pretending. You hoped for the former.

“It didn’t feel like I should. You—you said Joe’s undercover, right?”

“Right.”

“Like you?”

A small crinkle appeared between his eyebrows. “What are you getting at?”

“You called him Sunwoo earlier. And he called you Haknyeon—isn’t that weird?”

His features softened. “It’s not weird at all, y/n. We prepared our identities together for months, and sometimes it messes with your head a bit. It’s nothing to worry about, it’s just names.”

“Then why did you ask me who the two men were that night at the bar? You already knew one of them was Joe, so why did you ask me?”

Haknyeon drew in a sharp breath and scrunched up his face. He looked apologetic, but still not like he’d been caught doing something bad. “Promise you won’t be mad?”

“Tell me first, I’ll make up my mind after.”

“I know it’s not good, but I had to find out how much you knew. I couldn’t be sure yet to what extent your boss was telling you things and to what extent you might even be involved. I just had to make sure.”

You stared at him for a second. “You thought I was involved in his schemes?”

“Listen, there’s many reasons to get into shady business. I wouldn’t judge. But I needed to know.”

“Was that what you were hoping for when you got close to me? That I’d be involved? That I’d be a big fish?” Your voice sounded bitter and your features were harsh, but Haknyeon stepped a little closer, smoothing out your frown with soft hands.

“Don’t be silly, love. I wouldn’t care either way. It was never about catching a big fish. I just wanted to know how far I’d have to go to protect you.”

“Are you saying you would have gotten rid of evidence for me if I had been involved?”

“Yes. I would have. I'd keep you safe no matter what.” There wasn’t even a second of hesitation and his eyes on you were so open and honest, it was hard to hold his gaze. He was willing to go to such lengths for you, risk it all for you, and yet you’d doubted him over a silly little conversation you’d overheard. You leaned up to kiss him then, because what were you supposed to say to that other than I love you, but that seemed to be a little too much, even now. 

“Better not tell your team leader, though,” you teased, getting a chuckle out of him.

“Oh, I’m sure Sangyeon would understand.”

When you leaned in again you felt Haknyeon smiling into the kiss and into every kiss that followed that night.

It wasn’t until the day of the raid that your boss started acting weird. He seemed nervous, sweating heavily and telling you to close up and leave early even though it was barely evening. You were certain he’d been warned. 

“Are you sure I can go?” you asked, just a guise to peek your head into his office and see what he was up to. You’d already alerted Sangyeon and you knew it was only a matter of minutes until they’d be here, but you wanted to do your job right and ensure the safety of the books until they arrived.

Your boss’ head shot up at your words, as if he’d been caught doing something forbidden. And from the look of it he was; a folder of papers in one and a lighter in the other hand. You knew it had to be the information Haknyeon and his team were after. Without thinking you rushed in, grabbing the papers, and your boss, perplexed as he was, let you take them.

“What the fuck, y/n?” He hissed, angry veins pulsing on his forehead.

“You were about to cause a fire, Sir,” you pressed out. A weak excuse.

“And that is none of your business. Now, give those back, will you?”

You took a step back, your knuckles turning white from how tightly you held on.

“Y/n,” he opened a drawer in his desk and you had a feeling what he was going to pull out, “don’t make me repeat myself.”

You’d never stared into the barrel of a gun before, and you felt that it was an experience you would have rather missed. Still, you didn’t let go. If you did, it would have all been for nothing, right? And surely the others would be here any second—

“Y/n,” your boss repeated and the tone in his voice made your blood freeze. He walked around the  desk in your direction and you stumbled back, wondering if you were really going to die like this. It didn’t feel like the right way to go, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. This wasn’t even your mess to begin with. You squeezed your eyes shut as he stepped closer, trying to come up with a prayer to recite, but you’d never been religious and you didn’t know what to tell god now at the brink of death, except for I don’t want to die.

Suddenly, you heard the front door of the bar flying open and just a second later someone was behind you, pulling you aside before pushing past you, gun raised. Haknyeon.

“You mind putting that down?” He said with that cocky tone of his but your boss didn’t seem particularly impressed. He aimed at Haknyeon now, and you wanted to jump in to protect him but someone was holding you back. You closed your eyes and covered your ears, but you still heard the shot echoing through the bar. Tears were already brimming at your eyes when you blinked them open again, just to find Haknyeon standing above your boss, who was pressing his hands onto a bleeding wound on his thigh, gun somewhere on the floor, out of reach.

“Listen,” Haknyeon said with disdain, “I told you to put that away. But you wouldn’t listen and now we have this whole mess here and even have to call an ambulance for you. Couldn’t you have made things a little easier for us?”

“Fuck you,” your boss spat.

“Very articulate.” Haknyeon put his gun back into the holster strapped around his chest, Joe pointing his weapon at him instead while Hyunjae got his handcuffs out to arrest him. The arms holding onto you eased up too since you weren’t in danger of jumping in front of a bullet anymore, and only now you realized they’d belonged to Eric. He held up his hands in surrender when Haknyeon came back over to you, almost as if to say I didn’t touch her. But your boyfriend didn’t really have any eyes for him.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly, cupping your face to look at you. When he’d made sure there wasn’t a single scratch on you he pulled you into his chest. “You did so well,” he whispered into your hair. “It’s all over now.”

Eventually he had to let go again to do his job and secure the evidence from the office together with Joe, and you were left to stand at the side like a lost puppy. Your boss had already been dragged out and was currently receiving first aid from the medics that had arrived by now. You were still holding onto his papers, almost as if they’d become one with your fingers at this point.

“You can give these to me,” Younghoon commented, holding out his hand. You hesitated, unsure if you could trust him with this. It was important evidence after all, and if Haknyeon didn’t have faith in him, how could you?

“Don’t worry, I’ll take it from here,” Sangyeon suddenly interrupted, taking the papers from you instead. You knew there wasn’t any room for discussion since he was the team leader, so you let go.

It didn’t take much longer for things to wrap up after that. The most important evidence was secured and your boss had been escorted to the police station or the hospital or wherever else by Eric. The rest of Haknyeon’s team seemed to be getting ready to go, leaving the bar to some other officers and the crime scene cleaners. You were lost to wonder if you were allowed to just go home after everything that happened. You didn’t have to ponder for long though because suddenly Younghoon was nodding over to you as he spoke to one of his colleagues.

“Take her too, Changmin, I’m sure she can still help with the one or the other information on all of this.”

The guy, Changmin, walked over to you, handcuffs dangling from his belt. You knew they were the good guys, but you felt your guts churning with fear. It sounded like they were suspecting you, even after you’d put yourself in danger to support them. Instinctively, you glanced over to Haknyeon, maybe for help or maybe just for assurance that nothing was going to happen. He met your gaze with a nod, a small sign not to worry. 

“I’ll take her,” he said, stepping in front of you before Changmin could reach you. You let out a sigh of relief.

Younghoon looked at Haknyeon with a frown, clearly not very fond of that plan. You could understand that—surely everyone was aware of the relationship Haknyeon and you had gotten into and of course that would impact Haknyeon’s impartiality. Just when Younghoon opened his mouth to object, Sangyeon put a hand on the tall man’s shoulder. 

“It’s fine,” he said. “Let him take her. I’m sure she’ll be more willing to talk to us if she isn’t frightened on the whole ride.”

No one seemed to dare to disagree so Haknyeon led you to his car, his hand at the small of your back. He nodded when the two of you walked past his boss, whispering a quick “Thanks, Sang.” It was just a small interaction, but there was no doubt in your mind that these two must’ve been close. There was this sense of absolute trust between them, that Haknyeon didn’t seem to share with too many of his colleagues. 

He opened the passenger door of his black company car for you and even went as far as to buckle you up, before he did the same for himself and started the motor, following behind two other cars that Younghoon, Changmin, Hyunjae and some other of their colleagues had gotten into. As you stared through the windshield, all you could think of was what would happen once you’d arrived. Landing in some dark interrogation room and being bombarded with a zillion questions you didn’t know the answer to was a frightening concept. Of course Haknyeon was with you now, but surely, as your boyfriend, he wouldn't be allowed  to stick around for questioning. 

Haknyeon seemed to notice that you were feeling tense, glancing over to you with an encouraging smile. “You have nothing to worry about. I won’t leave you alone,” he said, taking one of his hands off the steering wheel to find your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. The touch felt intimate and warm and it helped in making you feel a little more grounded; at least until you realized that you weren’t following the cars ahead anymore. Instead Haknyeon took the exit to the freeway, speeding up the moment you’d left the smaller road behind. 

“Hak, where are we going?”

“Don’t worry,” he said instead of answering your question. “Do you want to listen to some music? We can turn on the radio.”

“Hak,” you repeated with more force. “Where the fuck are we going?” 

Through the side mirror, you spotted Sangyeon’s black car behind you, Joe in the passenger seat. But the cars that had been ahead of you, were now nowhere to be seen.

“It’s all good, I promise. Just trust me.”

“If all is good then why aren’t you telling me?” 

He sighed, a frown on his face as he stared out the windshield and contemplated what to tell you. “You know how I said that I couldn’t tell you the whole truth?”

You swallowed around the lump in your throat. “I remember.”

“Maybe I wasn’t exactly undercover in the way you thought I was.”

You thought you’d already come to that conclusion, somewhere in the back of your mind. “So, you’re not a cop.” It wasn’t a question. 

“No.”

“What are you then? Who are you?”

“You know Jacob? He–uh–he’s my boss?”

“Oh fuck,” you breathed out, not because you were surprised, but because hearing it out loud made it so much worse, and really, what else was there to say except fuck? You’d always known Haknyeon was hiding things, but you’d wanted to believe it was because of his duty as a special agent, not because he was affiliated with some mafia type bullshit. You’d slept with him, thinking he was a good person. Even worse, you’d fallen in love with him. And now you weren’t sure if any of that still mattered, if any of the things between him and you held any meaning.

“Can you pull over?” You sounded like you were going to cry. You probably were.

“Not yet. We need to be sure first.”

“Sure of what?”

“That they aren’t tracking us down.”

“Oh, god.”

"I know, I know. But I can't let them have you."

"Hak, you do realize they are the good guys and I didn't do anything wrong, right? Well, not until now, I guess."

"Good guys? Yeah, sure, I guess so."

"What do you mean?"

"They aren’t your friendly neighborhood cops, y/n, though I'm sure there is enough to be said about those too. Anyway the point is they are willing to do whatever it takes to get what they want. The end justifies the means and all that."

"Oh, you mean they are like you?"

"Sure, if you want to draw that comparison. But I would never hurt you."

You couldn’t help but scoff at that. "You already did."

"Y/n, I—"

But you didn’t want to hear what excuse he was going to make. "So, what do they want?"

"After today? Probably us; me, you, Sangyeon, Sunwoo. And Youngjae, once he's done with your boss." You didn’t bother asking who Youngjae was.

"So all of this was just a plot to get him?"

"Look, he's been a real pain in the ass for a while now. And he had some crucial information that we couldn’t just let anyone have. It was also a good chance to get rid of some other data they’ve collected on us."

“Was that all that ever mattered through all of this? Getting my boss, getting the information…” You didn’t like how frail your voice sounded. “Was everything bullshit on your part? Was I just a game to you?”

“No!” His head snapped around to you. “It was never a game. I swear my job was the only detail that I lied about.”

“That’s hardly just a detail, Haknyeon,” you scoffed. Your gaze fell onto the side mirror once more, watching the car behind you to keep your eyes from wandering to the man beside you. “What about them? So they are the same?”

“Sangyeon and Sunwoo? Yeah.”

“Of course,” you let out a huff, “there was no way his name was actually Joe. I fucking knew it.”

Haknyeon chuckled. “He doesn’t look like a Joe.”

“Don’t laugh. This is not a funny situation. I’m watching my life crumble before my eyes right now. You lied to me about everything. I don’t even know—What about your name? Haknyeon, He Nian—was that all bullshit too? Is either of them even your real name?”

The little smile on his face looked soft, unfitting for the reality you were finding yourselves in. “Both of them are, in a way. I didn’t want you calling me by a name that wasn’t mine.” 

“So, I guess you were at least honest about one thing, huh?” You sounded bitter.

“I was honest about most things, you just keep pointing out the other bits.”

“Because those are the ones that matter.” You didn’t know what to believe anymore. There was a feeling of unbearable hurt and anger bubbling inside of you, the betrayal stabbing you like a knife, and yet a part of you wanted to hold on, cling onto the little hope that despite everything you could have faith in him. “You said I can trust you. That you’re on my side.”

“I am on your side.”

“How can you say that? I’m a rat in your trap and you expect me to trust you of all people to get me out?”

“It’s not like that—”

“Haknyeon, for all I know we’re running from the cops right now!”

He forced a laugh. “Yeah, that looks pretty bad.”

“Pretty bad?!”

“But, in my defense, I did say that I couldn’t tell you the whole truth yet.”

“Well, I didn’t think the truth was this.”

“I—,” he started, but his voice broke, cutting him off. You knew he was a good liar, but when you glanced over and saw tears brimming in his eyes you didn’t think this was merely an act. “You made me promise not to let you go,” he pressed out, “so was I just supposed to break that promise then?”

“How can that still count—I didn’t even know anything. If I had known I wouldn’t have—” You didn’t finish the sentence, unsure if you meant what you were going to say.

Haknyeon stared at the road ahead, a bitter smile on his lips. “Maybe I should have asked you instead, if you were going to leave me behind.”

He sounded so genuinely hurt and it just felt unfair, because clearly all of this was his fault. You shouldn’t have to deal with this kind of mess. “Don’t do this,” you choked out, your voice quivering. “Don’t push the guilt onto me.”

His grip around the steering wheel tightened, turning his knuckles white. It was clear that he hated all of this as much as you did, even if he was to blame. Maybe because he was to blame. 

“I know,” he said, “I know that it’s my fault, I know it was selfish to get close to you. I shouldn’t have approached you in the first place. It’s just—I hoped it wouldn’t matter.”

“How could it not? How could you think I’d be okay with any of this, how could you be so delusional?”

“Because I love you,” He briefly glanced at you, eyes oh, so desperate, before turning back to the road, “I love you and I hoped you feel the same. But maybe I—”

“Stop it,” you interrupted, your voice weak and tired, “I can’t talk about this anymore. Just let me breathe for a moment.”

He pressed his lips shut and he didn’t try to say anything else for the rest of the ride. You didn’t say anything either. Instead, you just watched the scenery pass by in silence, too scared to look at him, too scared to feel empathy for him when all you wanted to feel was anger. 

You weren’t sure for how long you drove and you didn’t care either, but by the time Haknyeon pulled into a driveway it was the middle of the night. He stopped the motor, and with the headlights off it was pitch black outside, only a brief flash of light crossing Haknyeon’s features when the other car pulled into the lot as well. Sangyeon and Sunwoo got out and Haknyeon gestured for them to go on ahead when they passed his window.

“We’re here,” he said without looking at you.

You wanted to tell him that you didn’t know what here meant, but you also couldn’t find it in you to bother.

“So, what now?”

“We’ll find you a place to sleep,” he said, “and then as soon as we have the confirmation that it’s safe, you can go home.”

“I can go home?” You looked at him in surprise. Obviously that was good news, but in your head you’d already accepted the dire fate of never being able to go back again—though, you weren’t sure how dire it really was, since there wasn’t anything or anyone waiting for you anyway.

“I made sure you’d be able to. I’ve changed the name and address in the data they had on you, and since your boss wasn’t doing any proper book keeping and never signed a proper contract with you, it was easy to erase your traces from the bar. So, as soon as we made sure they don’t have anything else leading them back to you, you can go.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“I know you don’t think very highly of me anymore, and I can’t blame you. But I meant it when I said I’d keep you safe no matter what. I would never put you in danger. Even if you don’t want me.”

You felt yourself choke up, overwhelmed with everything that had been said and done today, and unable to really grasp the heaviness of the situation. “Okay,” you pressed out again, trying your best not to cry.

Haknyeon led you into the building. It was mostly dark, but you still heard voices everywhere. Twice you ran into some guys dressed all in black and despite the friendly nod they gave Haknyeon, you found their appearances frightening. You instinctively inched closer to him and when he noticed he put his arm around your shoulders, a small gesture to make you feel safe.

After a while he stopped at a door and pushed it open. You didn’t know what you'd expected but it wasn’t a simple bedroom.

"You can stay here for the night. We'll have to talk to Jacob sometime but it can wait until tomorrow. Just rest first."

You nodded slowly, your eyes wandering through the small bedroom. It didn't look shabby but there wasn’t much aside from a twin size bed, a nightstand and a small table.

"What about you?"

"Me?" He looked surprised. "I have a place upstairs. You can text me if something is the matter, I'll be here in a minute. You can also lock the door if you want." He gestured towards the key that was stuck in the door from the inside. You nodded again and it got quiet, both of you unsure what else to say. The thought of staying here alone frightened you. There were too many people here that you didn’t know and after everything that had happened to you today you felt anxious and restless.

"So, I'll take my leave then?" Haknyeon sounded a little helpless, unable to tell if he should leave you alone or not. Clearly you were tense. But you'd been so angry with him, rightfully so, and he wasn’t sure if his presence could do anything to ease you.

"Sure," you pressed out with a hoarse voice. But when he turned to the door you found yourself holding onto the fabric of his black shirt that was tucked into his pants. "Can I go?" 

"I'll get you home as soon as possible but—"

"To your room."

His eyes widened in surprise. "Huh?"

"Can I go upstairs with you?"

"Are you sure?"

"I—I don't really know if I can trust you, but I do believe you when you promise you won’t ever hurt me and that's more than I can say for anyone else in this building." Your grip around the fabric of his shirt tightened. "So can you just make me feel safe tonight?"

His expression visibly softened. "Of course."

Haknyeon had a tiny one room apartment upstairs and even though it was kept rather simple as well you immediately felt a little more relaxed there. Maybe because it smelled like him or because there was one of his hoodies draped over the back of a chair. It was just a bit more homely.

He got out a loose shirt for you to sleep in and you went to the bathroom to change. It was a little silly, he'd long seen everything there was to see, but things were different now. You felt more vulnerable.

"I don't have a couch, though," he mumbled with a small gaze to the bed when you came back out.

"I didn't think there was going to be one."

"Okay," he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. He seemed a lot shyer now than you'd ever seen him. "You can go to bed first, I'll wash up real quick."

You slipped under the blankets the moment he disappeared in the bathroom. Even after everything, the scent of him made you feel at ease. You must have slipped into a light sleep eventually, because when you opened your eyes again Haknyeon was sitting on the mattress, hair still a little wet from his shower.

"Sorry, did I wake you up?" He whispered. You shook your head.

"Aren’t you going to lay down?" You asked when he still didn’t move from his spot after a few more seconds.

"No, no, I am. Just—You know I mean it when I say I'm really sorry, right?"

"Yeah, I know. I know that but—"

"It's okay," he interrupted. "You don't have to forgive me. It's fine as long as you know." 

"Hak—," you started but you didn’t know what to say. 

"It's okay," he whispered again as he slipped under the blankets, keeping a small distance between you. It was just a few centimeters, but it felt impossibly far away. You didn’t like it. You were craving his warmth and the feeling of his arms around you.

Of course you hated what he'd done, the secrets, the lies, the manipulation. He'd destroyed the idea you'd had of the two of you and your future together. But did that really mean you couldn’t have him in your future at all? What if you still wanted him to be part of your life despite everything?

“I do love you,” you pressed out without thinking, continuing the conversation you had on the drive here. “I did."

There was a strangled noise coming from him at the correction, but you didn’t dare to meet his gaze to see if he was crying. You were already tearing up, even without looking at him.

"It just feels a little hard to talk about love if I don’t even know you.”

“But you do know me. You know me better than most," he said, "and if there's any chance that you still want me and if my word is still worth anything, I promise I won’t keep secrets from here on out."

"I don't know," you started, your voice breaking and tears spilling out. 

The second he saw you crying he pulled you into his arms, and you let him, crumbling into his tight embrace. "It's all your fault," you sobbed into his chest.

"Yeah, I know," he whispered against the crown of your head, his own voice trembling "I'm sorry."

"You destroyed everything."

"I'm sorry."

"But I still want you, even now, I still want to be with you."

His arms around you tightened and you felt the way he let out a shaky breath, as if he'd been choking this whole time and only now finally got some air into his lungs again. "I'll make it up to you. And I won't lie again."

"You better keep your word," you replied, your hands clinging to his back.

"I will." He kissed the crown of your head. "I promise I will."

masterlist

[sgiandubh]

Pretzel logic

I never liked funerals - who does? - and I have always tried to avoid them, under different pretexts. This is one of the moments we meet the Great Beyond and we are at our most vulnerable. It's only fair and it is not something to be taken lightly, ever.

August 10, 2022 happened a few days before I decided to give OL a try and by the time I landed in here, that YouTube live had already been taken offline, perhaps with good reason.

That people watched it should come as no surprise to anybody: it happens in all cultures and societies - Death fascinates us and makes us curious, even if it's a questionable, voyeuristic kind of curiosity. It was posted for everyone to see, on the biggest content streaming platform on planet Earth. It was posted in consideration of the ending peak moment of the COVID pandemic, to allow for more people to attend, with the family's prior consent. It was most probably shot from the organ balcony, at a respectful distance and I am being told the streaming was blurry: a good thing, if you ask me. People screeching for "more clarity" of those screenshots should, in my humble opinion, think twice: context and taboo and all that.

That people saw something bizarre in the front pew was unavoidable. That the said detail (Occam's Razor would help us conclude that ambiguous things are usually anything but...) was screenshot, edited and made its way in here and elsewhere - impossible to control. However, I have not read any disrespectful comments about the event. Nobody snarked. Nobody grinned. A hole in the plot was pointed out, adding to the whole array of inconsistencies and if I remember well, it was almost missed out entirely (a taboo is a taboo, after all) and started its career online only days after.

Was it shared ad nauseam? Maybe - but who the hell am I to judge? Again, not something you can control, unless you set yourself up as the Torquemadas of this fandom and slap everybody on the wrist with your twisted righteousness. When your people discuss the Data Lounge findings in great, lewd detail, that is called having fun and (I love that one, don't you?) gossiping, as if you were just talking about Miss Scarlett's new petticoat, not a man's reputation. When our people dare to post pictures from a public event, or published for public consumption, that is immediately taxed as being insane or snooping.

A neutral person venturing in here would call out the bias immediately. I call out your hypocrisy and have no problem doing it in writing. And I never peddled neutrality, in here: I simply peddled decency and I remind everyone I have probably never posted any pictures from August 10, 2022 (I will triple check later, but I am pretty sure I didn't). It is a personal choice and, as you know very well, I am not alone in the Shipper community. Far from it.

That you chose August 10 to post the largest, most consistent amount of content I have read on your blogs during the last six months, shows me once more what I already knew: you simply can't help yourself, can you? It's all about slap-a-shipper day, even if this community remained remarkably silent and collected, yesterday. Extremes exist, they are a fact of life: silencing them is useless and unproductive, at least as far as I am concerned.

You have once again showed me your true colors, Mordor. At the end of the day, you do not really have a problem with the pictures floating out there. What you do have a BIG problem with, is the person sitting in the front pew and you would go to great lengths - to any lengths, for that matter - to disguise it under a thick sanctimonious cloak of civic disgust. Your shrieks backfire: if anything, they confirm, not deny. And for the sake of politics, anything goes. It is, therefore, ironic, that in order to post your reasoning, you did look, in great detail and for a consistent amount of time, at the same exact screenshots and pictures you send to hell so gleefully.

Spare me the dramatics.

[thedarkmistress16]

here's some long-awaited tony food for your thots

(im serious this is 100% PWP done in like, *check watch* 6-8 hrs or so in one sitting- it's all over the place, fam)

let me know immediately if any of you want me to community label this, if that makes you more comfortable. if you want another installment (it will have actual plot i promise) just let me know. None of the used images here are mine, they belong to their respective owners, I only own my garbage writing.

Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Girlfriend!Experienced!Unfaithful!Reader x Jealous!Yandere!Tony Stark- Repression and Suppression

and here are some messy A03-esque tags for your reading pleasure (srsly read these before continuing or you void your reading warranty):

(Lime, Lemon, G-rape, Cheating, Physical Cheating, Unintentional Cheating, Affair, Noncon, Dubcon, Forced Orgasm, Overstimulation, Fingering, Oral, Vaginal, MxF, PWP, Love Triangle, Jealousy, Third Wheel Tony Stark, Sexual Deviant Tony Stark, Manipulation, Humiliation, Dirty Talk, Swearing, Teasing, Gaslighting, Sexual Coercion, Power Play? Beard Burn, The run of shame?, Lust used as a manipulation tool, Tony blatantly misunderstands words, The horny ruins lives, Reader’s never cheated in her life ong she just misses sex, Tony is all kinds of wrong here, OOC Tony Stark, His dialogue is probably OOC sorry about that, No descriptors besides gender have fun)

...

You don’t know how this happened.

…

Okay, you do know how this happened. You and Tony stumbled upon the same floor in an otherwise empty Tower and you both plopped on the same couch shooting the shit. No paperwork for you to do and no big baddie causing a commotion in New York for the Iron Man to stop. And you may have overshared a tad about the feelings you’ve been having at his prompting about your relationship status, but hey, that’s normal, even for sober people. Everyone needs to vent every once in a while. Or overshare, or both.

What you didn’t expect, however, was your totally innocent sex conversation with Tony to turn into dirty talk. Which, alright- fair, this was Tony you were talking to, so probably not your best moment.

“It’s not like he’ll find out.” Tony’s palm rests on your thigh. “And you said so yourself, he doesn’t give you what you need.”

But thankfully, that’s when your brain started working again, and you actively began to create some space between you, with his hand falling off your leg.

“No, Tony. You know who I’m with and you know he’ll be coming back.”

Tony follows you and- what the fuck? Was this couch always this small? The palm greets your thigh again, more insistent now if the pressure was any indication.

“Can you really wait that long?”

You stare at Tony, incredulous at the turn of events. He wouldn’t- would he?

You see him smile at you before diving in for a kiss.

Wide-eyed, your first reaction is to push him off, but he practically falls on top of you, keeping you pinned there as his tongue goes to work in prying your mouth open.

You struggle, and then, well, he knew how to kiss to get what he wanted, that was for sure. It was so different from what you were used to with him, all chaste and loving. Tony used the flat surface of the appendage to massage your tongue, and- holy fuck you really forgot what good kisses felt like. Tony feels so good- so warm and passionate, that his embrace sends you into a blanketed bliss.

And as you make out, that blanket grows more and more stuffy. You lose track of time, and- well, yourself. The next time you open your eyes, you’re greeted to a shirtless and more disheveled Tony Stark on top of you, kissing down your neck, and humping his bulge against you and- oh fuck your pants were gone.

Okay, this had officially gone too far. Yes, this was hot, and yes your body was awakened from the longest dry spell ever by his kisses, but you had to try and stop this. You had to get Tony to shut this shit down, and then blame your horny self later.

But first, Operation Turn off Tony.

“Wait!” Your hands fly to Tony’s chest, pushing with effort despite wanting to melt into a puddle. “I can’t- you know I can’t-”

Okay, your voice would’ve sounded commanding if Tony hadn’t run his hands under your shirt.

And if his arm wasn’t practically glued to the damn cushions you would've had more leeway to shake him off. And if he wasn’t so stron-

Wait- one arm?

…

…oh my god why is he pushing against you?

“Oh?” It comes out automatically and your body absolutely preens at the sensation before you come back down.

Oh fuck no- now two of his fingers are inside you and you’re not sure if you can even try to hold him off now.

Think of Steve think of Steve think of Steve think of Steve-!

“Tony, mmn-m, pl-”

“Why refuse this?” He pauses to let his fingers talk and the resulting squelching has you trying to seal your mouth in protest. “Why refuse me? When the sweet release you want is right in front of you?” His fingers fall away. “And when this-” he rolls his denim-covered penis over your pussy, eliciting a groan from both of you, “cock is ready and begging to be inside you?”

There is no hope to quell your blushing at this point either, you unhelpfully surmise to yourself. But even so, you don’t let up, forcing yourself to meet his eyes.

“He’ll, ah- find out, hah, Tony.” Fucking hell it was hard to form words now, “and he w-will-”

Tony, more envious than you’ve ever seen him, snarls in retaliation. “Don’t think about him! He’s not the one who’s going to be fucking you tonight.” He takes a moment to regain his composure before adding, “don’t worry, baby. I’ll make you feel so good you can’t stand it.”

“Ton- ah!”He hit a sensitive spot inside you, and your body jolted with the feeling. “P-please...ha...” You pant, trying to control yourself as his fingers retract. Trying to think of Steve instead, and all the other reasons why you shouldn’t be doing this. Why he shouldn’t be doing this to you and how he’s currently making you tingle in too many places.

In mock concern, he inquires, “what is it, baby? I’m right here...” You swear to the highest moon that Tony Stark’s teasing is the worst kind you’ve ever had to experience in your entire life; mainly because he does it in a way that pisses you off to no end.

“I- Tony, I n-need you to-” He shushes you, leaving you more baffled. He doesn’t even know your request yet and he’s already cutting you off. The playboy slides two fingers inside your wet canal and you cry out in surprise. They slip out within the next second, not allowing you to properly process the action. He languidly laps at his fingers and you actually whine at the sight, which is literally the worst reaction you could've had. Tony hums at the taste and his eyes, holding your own, gleam wickedly as you attempt to recover.

“Oh, you need me to fuck you baby? Say no more.”

You gasp, utterly scandalized. How the fuck did he interpret a nothing sentence into that? He’s already working on unzipping his jeans and you’re quick to remedy the situation, despite your breathlessness. “No, Tony, that’s not-” A hand swiftly comes down to palm your sensitive pussy and squeezes, attempting to shut you up with desire. You’re shameful when you realize his tactic worked, as you find it elicits a sexual groan from you strong enough to make your head tilt up towards the ceiling and your back arch off the couch. Tony tuts at your wanton display.

“Don’t deny it, honey. You’re absolutely dripping for cock.” He leans in close to your ear and latches his mouth onto your neck. The man nibbles and suckles enough to probably leave a mark before playfully biting your earlobe and whispering, “and I’m more than willing to provide that relief.” A small part of you finds it ironic he’d use the word willing when you haven’t vocally confirmed it in this case.

When he’s fully sheathed inside you, he sits still for a minute, groaning at the feel of you. Tony then starts circling his hips, not thrusting in the slightest, and at this point you’ve had enough of his games. If he wants to do this so badly then so be it. “No teasing…” you huff unpleasantly.

“Hmm? What was that?” His member is still nudging against the ridges of your vaginal walls, causing your lower body to spasm and tighten at random intervals.

“If you’re going to fuck me then actually fuck me.” You make your voice harsh to get your impatience across, keeping your gaze even. Tony simply winks and wastes no time setting a pace inside you, smirking pleasantly as your body shifts from his thrusts. He licks his lips at the sight of your breasts bouncing underneath your shirt and impatiently forces the fabric up to your neck to squeeze at one. 

You close your eyes and furrow your brows, focusing your efforts on meeting Tony’s thrusts and tightening your pelvic muscles frequently to help his orgasm along. Judging by his strained moans, the fruits of your past lovers' labor seem to be working. He starts to shudder and you beam with pride.

Jackpot.

That is until he yanks himself out of you completely, struggling to hold himself over your body.

“Mngh, hah- baby,” he laughs in between ragged breaths, “let’s not spoil the fun too early, now…”

Tony then switches to playfully dragging his cock along the splayed seam of your lips, right over your spasming hole, and you wouldn’t have been able to hold in that unholy moan if you tried.

He flips you over without a word, leaving you disoriented with an “oof,” as he re-positions you to make your ass hang lewdly in the air. Tony swats one asscheek and your hands scramble to find purchase before he tries something else, which you seldom find in the firm material. Another mocking sound escapes his throat at your reaction and you turn your head to glare at him.

“Could have given a girl a warning, y’know?”

“Well, sweetcheeks, I can’t very well tackle this raging problem unless I approach it from all possible angles~” His eyes rove over your new position admiringly. “And this view is definitely worth the effort.”

He winks at you, smirking all the while. You refuse to react, deadpanning, before giving up. “Fuck you, Stark.”

He says some other comment you don’t care about- on the lines of having patience- when something wet wiggles across your folds-

Your eyes widen. Was this a better advantage point for him to-

His tongue thrusts itself inside your walls and you lose all sense of thought, wanting to collapse into the couch already. Tony’s firm and swift in his movements, pressing the angle of his chin into your mound harshly and rubbing your sensitive areas consistently. The stiff hairs of his beard rub themselves across your clit as he leans forward and you lose all sense of yourself, screaming into the cushioned void and spasming around his mouth.

Your hips lull into a gentle rocking, you realize, when the sensations have dulled. You can still feel Tony between your legs, but licking you much more softly now. Your satisfied mews fall out of your mouth like a gentle stream, and you let yourself bask in the well-overdue afterglow.

Tony slowly parts from your pussy with a smacking sound, and you feel saliva trailing down your thighs as you whine. You hear him say the word “ready” and you hum questionably, not in the mood for words. He leans forward to kiss up your back and make a path for your ear, reiterating himself.

“You ready for me, honey?”

“Mm, you’re not-?”

“-finished? How kind of you to offer, baby. After all, I haven’t finished fucking you into forgetting him yet.”

Your brain almost fits the pieces together, already turning towards him to voice the question when you feel him line up his cock at your entrance. You don’t even bother doing anything other than bracing yourself as Tony thrusts into you, and you realize too late that you’re still too sensitive.

He’s more insistent as he fucks into you, just as his mouth, but he’s humping into all the right places despite your body singing to the point of pain.

“Ahn! O-oh!” At this point, you literally didn’t care that your face was practically being suffocated by the cushions that Tony Stark- your not-boyfriend- was pushing you into and fondling your breasts. You were about to get an orgasm on a dick you haven’t been treated to in months on top of a great orgasm, and it was quickly feeling like it was going to be one of the best ones you’ve ever had.

“Oh, fuck- yes, oh- Tony- fuck-! me!” You manage to scream out over your lack of breath, feeling his thrusts grow frantic. The determined mumbling he’s spouting over your ear becomes noise as your second orgasm crashes over you. Your ears are fuzzy but you can make out Tony proclaiming your name in ecstasy before he plops down on your back, causing your legs to fully give out.

You pant there, lying in sweat and regret, wanting to move just yet but knowing you have a lot of cleanup to do.

Tony shifts first, stroking your hair as he whispers once more, “So, was that a thorough fucking for you baby?”

Despite yourself, you laugh. Whether it was from the now spiraling guilt slowly ebbing away at your brain or that it was from the sudden feeling of loss in how to handle your new infidelity status, you didn’t know. You chalked it up to exhaustion.

Tony mumbles again, but you’re coherent enough to understand his words and nod, calmly lying there as he gets up. 

You waited until the bare ass of Tony left your line of sight before you shot up like a lightning bolt, gathering your clothes and racing toward the elevator in one fluid motion.

You impatiently return to your room to inspect Tony’s damages in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, trying to ignore the aftersex glow you still had. Your hands trail over your naked body, taking note of the reddened marks with each twist and turn. Yep, that was definitely a hickey.

They halt on your thighs when you feel a searing pain there and your eyes grow wide, mouth hanging open with a hiss.

Oh fuck. You had beard burn. How the hell were you going to explain that to Steve? Covering them up was one thing- but the itching pain you were going to feel?

The cum inside you suddenly shifts downward and you instinctively clench to hold it in, cringing at yourself. Another man’s mess splattered on the carpet of your and your boyfriend’s room is not what you needed right now.

Biting the inside of your lip, you hurry to the connecting bathroom and wash yourself of the sexual encounter the best you can.

[riririnnnn]

Warning: Anime Spoilers.

So this:

It was revealed in the very start of NEL that Kunigami was trained/made to be a copycat of Noel Noa.

But.

Until now it was never said that the whole program of Wild Card was to help the Blue Lock-ers (not eliminated) get better.

And as sad and heartbreaking it was for me to see Kunigami like this, I also couldn't help, but notice that this, ironically, has been the calmest he has ever been while talking with someone. I mean, it's probably one of rare times when he actually talked without hurling curse words or roasting someone (Yes dear, it's only one word, "No," but let a girl dream, okay?)

Which makes me think that Kunigami is purposely, consciously sacrificing himself. Why? Well, what heroes do? Yeah, they sacrifice themselves for others. He is sacrificing himself to be a stepping stone for his peers to walk on and go ahead.

BUT.

We know that Ego and Noa had been rivals in the past, and judging by the former's hostility towards the other in the recent chapter, which by the way, is the first time we are seeing them interact, it's safe to say that they didn't have a friendly rivalry at all.

Which brings me to my actual theory that what if Wild Card was a lie? What if everything was a lie? I mean, we know for sure that Ego is a proficient liar, so it wouldn't surprise me if he did it more often. So what if Kunigami is just faking it till now about everything under Ego's orders? To raise the level of players you know, just as the way Ego lied about having higher stratums or something like that before the second selection.

OR

This goes a bit darker.

What if Ego already had his eyes on Kunigami? Especially since the orange head and Noa are VERY similar (people who have read the LN would understand better) to eachother especially in the emotions department. So, maybe, Ego already had some kind of plan to pull out Kunigami from Blue Lock, and to train him in order to dethrone Noa since he himself couldn't do it on his own.

If that's true, then Kunigami getting out in second selection was just a golden opportunity for Ego. Further, the humiliation Kunigami felt because of Shidou made things more easier for Ego to mold him to his liking— that man is a really good talker.

Well.

Even though I had fun making my two braincells roundhouse kick eachother while thinking about this theory, deep down, I highly think this thing isn't plausible. Wild Card has been hyped up till now, and readers are very curious too. I don't think so that Kaneshiro-san or Nomura-san will break the silence just to make Ego a villain.

Personally, I too believe in the widely popular theory that Kunigami eliminated the rest of the players during the Wild Card training which includes the Team Z which in turn made him hollow since he is crushing people's dreams, and Heroes don't do that.

However, one small plot hole (?) I can't wrap my mind around is that NEL wasn't planned. I mean, when the Blue Lock project started, I don't think that Ego had thought that JFU would try to halt it in between, but even if he had thought about that and beforehand made plans of taking over the Japan's U-20 soccer team, I find it really hard to believe that he had predicted that the whole world would get invested in Blue Lock.

So, it leaves me with a question, "What the hell Ego was trying to do?" I mean, if NEL was never planned to happen, then what would've happened to Kunigami? Why was Ego invested in Kunigami to give him a second chance? Would he have just thrown back Kunigami into the pit with others without explaining anything? What was even the motive?

Maybe only time would tell.

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Ego is my babygirl. Even if he indeed becomes a villain, I'll just be like, "oH hi vEnOmOOsE!"