#when someone endangers my fucking life trying to get ahead of me

[star3xian]

[Confession]

Everyone is gangster until the Schorsh ends up standing in the white room.

HEAVY LATE LORE SPOILERS AHEAD

Hans: … Enough, 314 you were caught in the act of 3 severe count of reckless driving might wanna…E-explain yourself?…Schorsh??!

Günther: reckless driving? Yeah, Schorsh that's me, or how you should call me Günther, anyway how has it been Hans?

Hans: How in Baumbergs name did your cheap streamlining-looking ass get out of the museum?

Günther: just opened the gate in front of me, sucks to be them? Anyway go on and talk about the rights and whatever I have, not the first time you guys caught me being awesome.

Hans: Awesome!?! You endangered people and then lost your engine to a Modder?!? And then leave your family in the dark about your whereabouts? Do you call that awesome?

Günther: not my fault that punk was there? I mean in the end it seemed to be useless to him? Whatever… would have never endangered people in the first place made sure the tracks were never driven on? Whatever about you guys, I don't care, I mean Dad hasn't talked to me since the 70s so he can kiss my ass and what about you? I don't care you always wanted to be the better one of us four.

Hans: because dad was sick and in a bad spot, he spent most of his life as a static piece before being brought back.

Günther: suck a coupling rod Hans, I heard about his comeback but that doesn't change that he forgot about me!

Hans: no he didn't forget about you?!? He was worried when the Museum told him you ran off, he hasn't had the chance to even contact you?!? So didn't I?!! Nor Anja or Anne before she passed on. You left us in the Dark Günther! This wasn't some sort of plot against you!

Günther: whatever, you guys seem to work fine without me, so I keep it that way because I'm not going to turn back much from that lifestyle of mine! Because I'm having fun…

Hans: Nah…Your going to end up being put into a shed where you'll be stripped of your mods and then send back to the museum!

Günther: oh yeah! You and who gonna decide that? Got a group that pays and lets me go off again? You're just wasting everyone's time Hans, yours included, strange because you always seem to be booked out when you get to shine.

Hans: Well, your group won't be able to pay this time, because there is more to your case than just being reckless, you are under ownership of a museum and they have every right to request you to come back!

Günther: Nah, I told them to leave me the fuck alone, I'm not some sort of object to just display, I'm independent Hans, so should you too, humans treated me like shit for ages and now I should go back and live a life of wasting away? Nah like said suck a coupling rod if you think that Hans.

Hans sighed, he looked down at the papers before looking at Günther again, he looked at the other streamlined engine with a stern face.

Hans: well, I get the wish for independence but you never had the real choice nor any of you modders, trust me your life style only works when it's on the back of others.

Günther: And what about that punk? You seem to be friends with them so you make an expectation for that guy but when someone you clearly don't like and never liked shows up its a different story?

Hans: Tuner is none of your concern, we try to rehabilitate him, he has an unfortunate story as an engine, he only choose modding as a way to cope with whatever he had going on.

Günther: I call it bullshit, try it, you guys will never get out his drive for independence, I also want that and so I take it, humans can also kiss my ass at this point. You should wake up Hans and see that you are nothing but a tool for them, don't sell your soul to the same boring life, one day they drop you too and then what! You waste away? Or take matters into your own hands and move on as a free user of the rails?

Hans: they won't drop me because I'm important to them, anyway I don't see a reason to continue discussing with you! Whatever happens to you happens to you…

Hans got up, he would walk to the door of the white room and leave Günther behind, somehow he felt like someone was clawing at his chest, the words of the other 18 class hurt, but he had to accept them. It felt like he was powerless against the confession of Günther wanting to continue ruining his life…

[homunculus-argument]

would you happen to have any advice for people who are not so good at job interviews? im looking for a job right now and the interview stage is kicking my ass

If you can, try to pinpoint as exactly as you can the exact kind of a person they're looking for this job. I admit I've mostly interviewed for factory and industrial jobs, and they don't look for anything sophisticated, just someone who doesn't slack from work or make it some sort of a personal goal to always get the easiest jobs/get away with doing as little as possible. When you're asked things about yourself, list things that match that description - don't lie, just sample out the things that are true that align.

My ADHD ass can't stand being idle, and combined with the anxiety, I'll rather pick literally any task than be without anything to do. While my first workplace was a place with a high turnover and their hiring process was more or less "just throw in every fuck that thinks they can take it, the work itself will weed out the weak", I had no summer jobs or any kind of formal work experience in my CV before it. I talked about having a strong work ethic because I was simply raised that way - I was there carrying bricks when my mother built her house (which, though true, how would they have verified random anecdotes?) and that I will do any given task right if I know how to do it right, and if I did it wrong, I'll simply do it twice.

If they ask you about flaws or some "what's your biggest weakness" sort of thing, be specific, name one specific, work-related thing that you know you tend to do, and then explain what you've learned to do in order to avoid doing that - or to avoid doing it as often. They're not looking for someone with the smallest possible flaws, they want to know if you're able to evaluate yourself fairly and honestly, or at the very least that you're someone who is capable of admitting they have made a mistake.

As a go-to, I'll name my habit of picking up tasks that I wasn't formally instructed to do yet because I ran out of my own tasks, I've seen someone else do it, it looked simple enough, and nobody else had done it yet, often because it didn't cross my instructor's mind that I would have to be specifically told not to just go ahead and do it. I can word it lightly, making a joke that at least they wouldn't have to worry about me being idle, I'll start doing work that I shouldn't be doing unless someone stops me. I'll leave out the part where I might have actually endangered people by doing this.

Giving yourself vague praise is both hard to do and hard to hear, it's better to take the flaws you know you have and tilt them upside-down. I suck at understanding and remembering long and complicated instructions, so I stress that I never make a mistake when I understand the task, and I do better when I know why specific things must be done in a specific way.

They never ask "and how often does that happen?" because surely someone who can specifically describe the conditions where they manage not to fuck things up isn't also someone who has survived in life through trial-and-error guesswork and almost died a few times doing that.

There's no need to lie - you just need to know what they want to hear, and cherry pick the truths that match the description.

[gildedmuse]

Hey, everyone.

So recently I've (predictably) very not well. Actually, whenever I don't post for long periods, just assume my body is trying to kill me. But I've gotten messages from three people asking if I. Okay, which is super sweet. I am actually trying to work on the next All Hearts, a really long ZoLaw post and two request fics, but mixing chronic kidney pain and capitalist society's mandate to work 40+ hours is not recommended.

But to prove I'm okay and still me, here is some Shanks antics with him being a total slut while Mihawk and Beckman just roll their eyes and go along with it. [Shout out to @jhaernyl who not only listens to me ramble about this stuff, but actively encourages it]. I also have many thoughts on the latest episodes and so many screenshots it's embarrassing. Hopefully, when I'm in less pain, I'll get around to actually posting those. Otherwise I just look like an insane person who literally takes by the second frame shots every time Zoro is on screen.

.... What is that? I look like that anyway? Fair.

Shanks Is A Bad Influence

It feels like Buggy and Shanks split up after Roger's death (the crew was told to, and they are the only ones who went to his execution) and I find it impossible to think Shanks didn't immediately set out and find a crew; like, pirating is the only thing this kid knows in life. This means two things:

He set out from East Blue. Also, he seemed at ease and familiar with the East so it's possible he spent like a year there getting everything together. Maybe he even played around in the other blues for a while before heading back to the Grand Line. I say this because his crew is from all over so either he found and recruited them in the Grand Line or visited various blues. Either way, I'm gonna say it took him about two years before getting a 'proper' start. In that case, he would have started out properly at the age of 17 and we know One Piece likes it's parallels.

That still puts Shanks at 17 to Benn Beckmen's 28. How the fuck did Shanks manage that? I'd call it grave robbing, but let's face it, the little tyke probably got up to some actual robbing of graves as well.

My point being everytime Shanks teases Mihawk about keeping this 19 year old kid on his personal island, mostly shirtless, Benn Beckmen just lifts an eyebrow.

Excuse me, captain, who had prefected the 'opps still don't have my sea legs' trip-and-fall into their first mates lap by the age of 17?

Shanks: Beckmen, you caught me! *Shamelessly nuzzles up* Thank goodness! I could be a devil's fruit user after all and - Ahh!

Benn: *Drops Shanks straight over the side of the ship into the water*

Shanks: *Sputtering* What what that!?

Benn: Checking to see if you had eaten a devil's fruit on us, Capatin.

Benn: You didn't.

Smart ass. But he can't resist Shanks forever. Shanks will wear him down eventually.

Next time Mihawk tracks him down for another match - because you know he gets bored way quicker than he'll ever admit and Shanks is at least amusing a challenge - Shanks makes a big deal out of how Mihawk follows him around, "accidentally" revealing they slept together, sighing about how it's so hard to resist him.

Benn Beckmen is just leaning against the side of the ship, sipping his booze.

Shanks: -and I can't stay for hours like last time!!

Mihawk: Are you quite done?

Shanks: *whispering* Does Benn look jealous?

Mihawk: He looks bored. Much like I am. Is this some strange attempt to get out of my challenge, Akagami?

Shanks: What? No, come on I told you I was game. But, hey, could you do me a favor? Maybe like try and kiss me or something? Like take a swing like your going to hit me but then stop shot and grab me by the waist instead.

Mihawk: .... Trickery is beneath you. Besides, you're absolute rubbish at it.

Shanks: Oh, come on, I would totally help you get laid if you asked!

Mihawk: .... *Sigh* I want a proper match afterwards.

Mihawk: *In a forced, monotone voice* After this I will take you to my lair and have my way with you, Akagami.

Mihawk: ... My lair? Really?

Shanks: *Holding up cue card with quickly scribbled line* What? That is how you talk.

Mihawk: I can't believe I wasted precious hours of light tracking you to this atrociously rural port.

Shanks: See? Now, read the next one.

Benn: Captain? If this is going to take all night, I am going to go join the rest of the men in the tavern.

Shanks: Huh? Wait! Benn! What if Miha really stabs me this time!?

Benn: *Salutes Shanks with his bottle* Sounds like that is his plan captain. Have a good 'challenge'.

Shanks: What? No... *Reaching out hand, like he might die if Benn leaves, looking completely devastated* Not even a little jealous...

Mihawk: You couldn't have thought that pantomime would actually work.

Shanks: Benny, don't leave me.... *Turns to Mihawk, immediately brightening* Oh, well, there's always tomorrow. Hey, Miha, guess whose free all night and horny as a pirate in the calm belt?

Mihawk: .... *Sigh* Very well.

Mihawk might as well get something for the trip he made. Although, he's reconsidering if the sex was actually worth the trouble after he ends up listening to Shanks worry half the night that Benn is shacking up with someone else (after a couple hours of rough and raw fucking, admittedly).

Is it the hat? He likes his captain's hat. Miha, you think his captain's hat is sexy, don't you?

Mihawk: It's utterly ridiculous.

Shanks: ....

Shanks: ....

Shanks: *Smile* Ahh, Miha, I knew you liked the hat!

Shanks: What do you old Northerns find sexy?

Mihawk: I am only four years older than you.

Mihawk: And silence.

Trying to convince Mihawk to go spy on Beckman for him. Shanks doesn't actually care if he does sleep with someone else, it's more that Beckman didn't immediately turn angry and jealous like Buggy would have that has him paranoid.

Mihawk is going to fuck this annoying red head again just to shut him up.

Mihawk: Maybe he doesn't like red haired boys who don't know when to be quiet?

The next morning Shanks is pacing among his poor crew that's gotten stuck listening to Shanks obsess about Beckman again. IS IT REALLY THE HAIR!?

It's not even a matter of Shanks's age (or obvious immaturity). I mean, Beckman got on board and stayed, didn't he? Beckman just enjoys watching Shanks try so hard to get his attention. Like Benn's attention isn't constantly on Shanks. He had to when his captain is always one step away from disaster.

He only left him with Mihawk because it was clear Dracule is not a real danger to Beckman's captain.

Except maybe insulting him to death. But Beckman is pretty sure Shanks can handle it. He's met Buggy. He's suspects Shanks LIKES it if anything.

It gets to the point where when they dock somewhere and see Mihawk waiting, or come back to the ship and spot his familiar silhouette, most of the crew goes off somewhere for another drink (sometimes the newer kids will stay to watch such an awesome fight, everyone else is like... Look, you'll have plenty of opportunities later. This is not a one off.)

Benn just takes a look around, nods to Mihawk (a silent signal for, "he's all yours, do with him as you please, if anything happens to him I will track you down and make sure your last few hours on this blue world are as painful as humanly possible") and heads off.

Oh, it's just the Hawk boy.

That's fine then.

Benn use to be a sailor on a trade ship between the North, East, West and Grand Line. He's seen it all.

They called him The Gun Slinger BEFORE he joined Shanks's crew and became a pirate.

So this young, broke ass kid from the streets of some near artic northern island trying to pass himself off as a Lower North rich type has a thing for his captain? Not really enough to keep Beckman up at night, no matter how good at swords he's supposed to be

Besides, he's pretty sure for the kid to keep tracking down Shanks, he must be bored out of his skull. He's not going to do anything to endanger their captain.

Not if Shanks is the only thing he can find to keep him entertained.

One day, Mihawk is going to be waiting on the dock when a bunch of Red Haired pirates are stumbling home, laughing and chattering amongst themselves (Shanks's crew always seems to be in a good mood). One of them will catch sight if Mihawk and walk by with a smile, patting him on the shoulder.

The captain's occupied. Seems likely he'll be 'occupied' for a good while, too.

Mihawk won't smile, but he will think "So you finally warmed him up to you, Akagami?" and snort lightly.

Poor Benn, though. Mihawk could never imagine being with someone so much younger than him. Shanks is only four years his junior and already it strains Mihawk to put up with his occasional moments of "youthful whimsy" (aka being an annoying, immature child)

"A young, cocky pirate with strangely colored bright hair"

Mihawk just putting that on his Not To Do List.

That lasted until Roronoa.

(Mihawk just looking at Zoro knowing this is bad news.)

Mihawk: *Takes list from Benn*

*Cross out, scribbles*

*Hands back to Benn*

Do Not Do:

- A young, cocky pirate with strangely colored bright hair a silly hat, who is overly dramatic and in any way, shape or form related to Gol D Rogers.

Ace: Hey what's up?

Mihawk: *Takes list from Benn*

Go ahead, Benn, laugh it up. Mihawk is aware he has a type. Young, pretty, and utterly insane.

After that night where Shanks was otherwise 'occupied', it's over six months before Mihawk sees his friend his rival again. He is, as expected, far too smug and proud looking.

Shanks: Oh, Miha, so sorry you came all this way, I'm-

Benn: Well, I'm off, captain.

Shanks: What!? But we, you, I... Benn, hessoeexyarentyouworriedforyourcaptain?

Benn: *patting Mihawk on the shoulder* Have fun with him. Don't forget to return him by noon tomorrow, we have a schedule. Oh, but if you can babysit him for at least four hours? That would be great.

Shanks: BABYSIT!?

Mihawk: I suppose I can be troubled to do so.

Shanks: TROUBLED!?

Benn: Thanks, Hawkeyes. I owe you.

Shanks: *Fake tears clinging to his lashes* You two are so mean!

No, don't feel bad for him. Shanks is just trying to guilt the two of them into bed at the same time, and they both know it.

Thanks no thanks, they're not into that. But Shanks can be pretty cute when he's trying so hard (Benn) and at least he's not as boring as everything else in this world (Mihawk) so they allow him to keep up the act

Shanks: *looking at Zoro's wanted poster over Mihawk's shoulder* But I feel like you'd gladly go to bed with him and his captain if he asked. That doesn't seem fair to me. You'd never go that far with me and Benn.

Mihawk: *Eyes Benn*

Mihawk: *DEAD. ONLY.*

Mihawk: I have my reasons.

They can and do agree on plenty of things, including reciprocally not being that attracted to each other.

Shanks: Sounds fake to me

Shanks: But guys!

Shanks: This isn't about you

He's gonna need you guys to drop the egos and focus on what HE wants. I.E., being in the middle of two sexy Northern men.

Honestly, so mean to poor Shanks!

[nyxdelanuit]

Just a Taste (Asmo x Reader)

NSFW AHEAD LOVELIES XOXOXO thank you to @miiyaatsumu for beta-reading part of this c;

Asmo was fucked the moment Levi scurried out of the room. He hadn't meant to interrupt, not truly, but seeing Levi playing a game with you while laying his head on your lap deserved at least a coo or two. But Levi, the bashful thing, blushed to the high celestial realm and absconded from the room. Asmo chuckled softly, eyeing you now that he was finally alone with you for the first time in the many months. You stood gracefully, and Asmo wondered how a human could carry such grace to rival the angels themselves.

 “Asmodeus.” You laid your hand on his chest, and Asmo all but preened at the connection.

 “Asmo, darling.” He cooed, but you continued on as if you hadn’t heard him.

 "I've seen the looks you've given me." Your voice was so even, Asmo was a bit jealous.

 “I haven’t been trying to be subtle.” Asmo trailed his fingers over your cheek, excited that he may finally talk you into his bed. The fun the two of you could have, if only you let him.

 “Not those ones, darling,” he couldn’t keep the excited trill from his throat when you called him such sweet names, “the looks you give me when I’m close with your brothers. The looks you gave Levi when you thought no one was watching while he laid on my lap. I’ll give you two options. My door will be open tonight, and you can either join me in bed, or you can start spending some time with me and get what your brothers are getting.” You patted his chest once, about to start searching for Levi, but you paused, caressing his face.

 "Jealousy doesn't look good on you, Asmodeus."

How could you, he was the Avatar of Lust! He’d be betraying his very nature if he didn’t crawl into your bed, but he watched as the night stretched on. You had spent your time cuddled between the twins, laid against Beel with your head nestled in his shoulder, your delicate fingers passing through Belphie’s hair like silk. How peaceful Belphie looked curled up against you, his head cradled against your breast like a babe. You had caught his eye then, giving him a somber smile like you already knew what he would pick.

 He left the house in a hurry. He couldn't allow himself to sully this opportunity by spending a night in your bed when there were so many others that would welcome him readily- no strings attached.

 He came strolling in the next morning, unabashed by his disheveled appearance. Why should he hide what a wonderful night he had. You looked to him from your place at the table, a smirk gracing your face.

”Looks like you made a choice.”

 “Whatever did you mean? I already had plans last night.” He winked at you as he passed, but your words gave him pause.

 “Oh, if that’s the case, I’ll extend my deal through the end of the week.” Why did he have to open his mouth, he could have saved himself so much trouble if he just hadn’t said anything. Yet he soldiered on with a hollow laugh. He’s the Avatar of Lust, after all. It’s in his nature.

 Still, his wounded pride could only cover so much, and alone in his room he couldn’t help but pine for your touch, for your innocent love even at the cost of never falling into your bed.

 You were becoming concerned. Maybe you should have taken your words back, told Asmo that it was all a joke. Five days had passed, and each time you had seen Asmo, he looked more wrecked, dark circles plaguing his face. He never would have stood for it if he hadn't been so concerned with running away from your temptations.

 There you sat on your DDD, looking at Asmo's devilgram and the overly-edited pictures, surely covering the dark circles and the exhaustion that was impossible to hide in person. With a sigh, you set the device down, stripping down to a tank and underwear for bed.

 You were reclining on your pillows, scrolling through posts to unwind when you heard your door creak open. There stood Asmo, clothes rumpled, hair greasy, and the wavy locks falling limp. You thought maybe he'd finally given in after he hurridly started shucking his clothes, less graceful than you had ever seen him.

 He crawled into your arms, all whines. Your DDD was quickly abandoned to trail fingers over Asmo’s smooth skin. Your hand wandered in between you, quickly dipping down his abs to match the neediness that shone in Asmo’s eyes. You had almost reached Asmo’s adonis belt before he caught your hand, vulnerability oozing out of his pores.

 “Just… hold me?” It was a whisper, as if the question hurt him.

 "Of course, Asmo." You cooed, enjoying the shiver your words sent down his spine. He curled up to your chest, trying to recreate the position he saw Belphie in, and you welcomed him into your arms. Your hands when to card through his hair, grimacing at the oils coating your fingers. "When's the last time you slept in your own bed, love?" You whispered to him, getting only a weak chuckle in response. You laid a chaste kiss on his forehead, watching how pink tinted his cheeks at the innocent action. "How about we take a bath together, hm?"

 Asmo wasted no time picking you up off of your bed. He wouldn't let you stop touching him for a moment, not even to gather his clothes as he dashed off to his room. You were a flurry of giggles, desperately torn between covering yourself and clinging to Asmo as he smiled gently at you.

 It must have been a perk of being one of the demon lords of the devildom that Asmo’s bath was always filled to the brim with warm, lightly scented water. Asmo only set you down to remove his underwear, keeping his back to you as you did the same. He let you get in first, offering you a hand while keeping his eyes to the ground. It was sweet, if a bit unnecessary, but it did show you just how much Asmo was willing to try. You felt a bit guilty now, it must have tortured him to keep away from you this long.

 Asmo sunk into the water with a sigh, already seeming more like himself. The tub was big enough for you to sit on opposite sides with more than enough space between the two of you, but you motioned him closer as soon as his eyes drifted to yours. He approached slowly, as if you'd get up and leave if he was too eager. As soon as he was in reach, you drug him to sit between your legs. He tensed underneath your touch, but relaxed as your fingers drifted over his back.

 You set to work quickly, rifling through all the products lined on the side of the tub. Finally, finding one with a scent you enjoyed, you quickly wet Asmo's greasy locks. Your fingers worked small circles in his scalp, and Asmo could feel the sting of tears in his eyes. How long had it been that he'd felt touch without the expectation of reciprocation? When had anyone shown him affection without wanting him to prove his prowess? It seemed like all the other brothers were allowed to have other facets; to enjoy life outside of their sins, but Asmo was always expected to be lust incarnate. Yet here you were, washing his hair with a hum on your lips just because he needed his hair washed, and you thought he'd enjoy it.

 You were careful, as if he wasn't a demon, to not pull on the tangles, to make sure the water washed the suds away from his eyes. You didn't even ask him to do it for you, quickly washing and conditioning your hair while the deep conditioner sat in his hair. Your fingers in his hair was the closest taste of heaven Asmo had gotten since the fall, and he couldn't help the tears that fell as your fingers left him. You took your time washing him, rubbing every tense muscle in his body until he was putty under your touch. He had shared many baths with lovers, but nothing had been this intimate. You allowed him to exist as he was, nothing more.

 Asmo almost panicked as you moved to straddle his legs, clean and smelling of his soap. You shushed him with gentle touches, easing his anxious heart. He didn’t want to mess this up, not now, not that he finally knew what your love felt like. Even if the fire was burning in his gut, the urge to take you as his, he would never want to do anything to endanger what he had now.

 “Please don’t tempt me, I can’t stand it.” He whined, tears dripping like jewels into the water. You kissed those that clung to his cheeks, and he sobbed harder as he felt himself grow hard. How he wished more than ever that he had been the avatar of some other sin, something more easily controlled around you. He wished he could be sure he wouldn't ruin everything by being unable to resist taking you.

 “I should have never given you that ultimatum Asmo. I’ve given all your brothers love despite their natures, I should have done the same for you.” You finally placed a sweet kiss on his lips, and he couldn’t resist tangling his hands in your hair and deepening it, his body betraying his mind. You took it seamlessly, no less loving than any other touch you bestowed on him. He shook his head as you parted.

 “It should be different with you.” He cried, clinging to your body, unable to hold back a groan as your body pressed against his length.

 “And it will be.” You promised, angling his face so he looked into your eyes. You needed him to see that you meant it.

 “I love you… as much as someone like me can love someone.” He shuddered as your hand ghosted over his cock.

 "You are just as capable of love as anyone else, Asmo, and I love you too." You finally gripped him, forcing the last of his tears to fall from his lashes. "Now, let me love you. Tell me if you want me to stop." Stop? Like he would ever ask you to stop… but no one had offered him that before.

 The water pulled around you as you shuffled closer, bringing the tip to your waiting warmth. You sunk down slowly, eyes never drifting from Asmo’s as you adjusted. Your pace was slow, tender. More focus was placed on the sweet touches you laid on Asmo’s face, and he wasted no time nuzzling into your hand and placing kisses along your pulse.

 Asmo was sensitive, too sensitive. Unbeknownst to you, he had been unable to fuck any of his dates since you had challenged him. He had tried to picture you in their place, but it only left a sour taste. So he had slept on couches and swore the demons and succubi to silence for the better part of a week. That mixed with your undivided attention brought him too close to his peak, too quickly. His hands fell to your waist, softly urging you to slow the pace even more.

 “It’s okay, darling. Let go.” You whispered in his ear, damp hair falling to his shoulder. He came apart with a sigh, holding you close to his chest. His arm snaked underneath the water, searching for the spot that would help bring you pleasure, but you simply laced your fingers with his.

 “I want to make you feel good too.”

 “You do.”

 “I want to make you cum.”

 “You’ll have time for that later. This was just for you.” You laid a kiss at the corner of his mouth as you stood, stretching out your stiff muscles. Asmo took the time to drink you in, to think of ways he could worship you properly. “Let’s get out of here before our hair dries.” You smiled gently at him, running a hand through his still-damp hair. He couldn’t resist your touch, standing to whisk you out of the tub.

 If Mammon or Belphie looked for you that night, you’d never know. They wouldn’t yet think to look in Asmo’s bed, curled up against his chest. Even in sleep, he wore the most serene smile they would ever see, finally feeling something he had thought would be forever lost to him.

[wlntrsldler]

Flawless (Bucky Barnes Imagine)

Prompt: Bucky and Y/N are friends with benefits. They found a new thing to play with in the bedroom. The Winter Soldier.

Song Inspiration: Flawless by The Neighbourhood

Warnings: SMUT!!!!!!! only 18+ please. don’t read if you’re uncomfortable w rough sex. 

MAIN MASTERLIST

-

The whole arrangement had never been innocent, not even from the start. It was toxic. 

Y/N hated the way this new society aimlessly threw the word “toxic” around when none of them truly knew the real definition of the dirty word. Toxic wasn’t just running back to the guy you told your friends you’ve cut off. No, toxic wasn’t just that.

Toxic was reciting those trigger words, ten, little, poisonous words, that ignites a monster inside someone she had no business even being around. It was the feeling of absolute adrenaline that she felt when she heard the squeaks of his metal arm, the grunting coming from his pursed lips, and the evil twinkle in his eye. They knew this was dangerous. They were playing with fire that could leave them burned and their arrangement in ashes but they didn’t care. They didn’t care that his fingers might just press that much harder against the skin of her throat and -poof- she’d be a goner. They thought it was hot, living on the edge, knowing that their possible demise was just one step away, crossing the line from pleasure to death.

That’s toxic. 

Not the teeny-bopper definition of it. What Bucky and Y/N had, was toxic. 

But that never stopped them from doing it. 

The first time they tried it, Bucky was apprehensive. Bucky was never one to be experimental in the bedroom and he had spent a better part of his new life trying to detangle himself from the monster they created. So when Y/N’s soft whisper, so soft that he almost didn’t hear it- thank God for his super-soldier hearing- he blinked a few times trying to comprehend exactly what she wanted from him. 

“You want to what?” He asked through gritted teeth, his eyebrows were furrowed. “You want to recite my trigger words to see what it’s like to fuck while I’m the Winter Soldier?”

Truth be told, when Y/N first approached him with the proposition of being friends with benefits, he was overjoyed. There had been months of sexual tension building up between the two Avengers and Bucky hasn’t had anything but his own hand for years. A sexual release was nice. He knew he needed it. 

What he didn’t expect was for sweet, innocent, talks to insects she sees in the garden, Y/N, to be so goddamn kinky. The young agent was experimental, sometimes too experimental for Bucky’s old mind to keep up with. But this idea she has to fuck while he was in Winter Soldier mode was the most outrageous, yet somewhat enticing, idea she’d ever had. 

“I know, it’s a little extreme,” She sighed, already making her way out the door of his room. “Forget I said anything. I’m sorry.”

Bucky sat on his bed, dumbfounded for a second, weighing his decision. Any mentally stable man would know that the idea that he could quite possibly snap her in half like a Kit-Kat, should’ve been enough to shoot the entire possibility down. But Bucky was far from mentally stable and it was evident when he ran towards you as you placed your hand on the doorknob and kissed you like his life depended on it. 

He felt you smirk under the feeling of his tongue on your lips. You always win. God, it was so dangerous. What you were about to do were so fucking dangerous but the only thing that Bucky could think about was how absolutely wrecked you would look under him while he destroys you. 

Your hands traveled under his tight shirt, the one you bought him. He complained when he first opened the pack, stating that it was a size too small. You winked at him and said, “That’s the point, Sarge.” You sighed in adoration as the brief memory escaped your mind, your thoughts suddenly going in overdrive as you feel the pricking of his stubble against your neck. You clawed at his abdomen, feeling the sense of euphoria that only James Buchanan Barnes could ever deliver to you.

“You sure you wanna do this?” Buck breathed out in your ear, his lips finding your sweet spot underneath your earlobe. 

“Been dreamin’ about it,” You confessed, pulling his head back so you could look at him in the eye while saying your next words. “I wake up with my hand between my legs.”

Bucky groaned at your words, his lips finding yours again. His metal hand dips past your bodies and stops right at your clothed core. “So, so filthy.”

You started to push him back down on his bed. His metal hand drawing figure-eights, making it just that much more difficult to walk. He sensed your difficulty and hoisted you up to wrap your legs around his waist, where you felt his hardening bulge. 

“You know how to bring me back right?” Bucky asked, breathless, hair in disarray with the way you were tugging on it, helplessly. 

You merely nodded and looked at his face for any sign of discomfort or hesitation. You were met with a smug-looking Bucky, nothing of the earlier feelings etched on his face. Instead, his eyes were dark, looking at you in a much harsher way than you’re used to and for a moment, you wondered if he was already activated in Winter Soldier mode. 

The first night prompted the start of many others like it. Yes, you loved having sex with Bucky and nothing could ever beat the way he pleasured you. The way he has you withering away underneath him and the way you wake up with a dry throat the following day. He would run you dry, his super-soldier stamina coming in handy, and you loved it. 

But sex with the Winter Soldier was something out of the deepest crevices of your dirty mind.

Something about the way it felt with the Winter Soldier was addictive. You found yourself craving it, most especially after a day of leading missions consisting of irresponsible new recruits. You were a born leader. You were bred to be the best of the best but sometimes it was nice to be dominated. And that’s exactly what the Winter Soldier did to you. 

He dominated you in every way possible. He would throw you around like you were a toy to him, fucking you senselessly until there was an imprint of where your body once was in his disheveled mattress. He fucked you like there was no tomorrow- the snapping of his hips, the bites he left on your tender neck, and the countless orgasms that he would bring out of you. You didn’t even know your body was capable of coming undone that many times. 

If anyone found out the way you two operated, they would kill you both with their bare hands. Not only did you put yourself in danger by triggering Bucky and then pressing yourself as close as humanly possible to him, you also endanger everyone in the compound every time you do. The Winter Soldier was dangerous, you knew that. But you always liked living on the side of danger. 

It had been a long day of trying not to shoot the newest recruits when they managed to blow your covers during your mission. They might as well have written, “I’m a spy!” on their forehead and it would’ve been less obvious. Nonetheless, you completed the mission, but it took way longer than you would’ve liked. 

Bucky knew what was coming next. He knew how you were feeling with just the way you ignored everyone in the compound when you arrived. The rest of the team, shot knowing looks at the new recruits who limped in behind you, white as a sheet, like the living crap was just kicked from them. You were never one to use violence against people who didn’t deserve it, and although those recruits did deserve to have their asses handed to them, you opted with a good ol’ fashion lecture. You learned it from Cap himself, being the one on the receiving end just a few years back. 

Bucky excused himself from the rest of the team and made his way to your room. He heard the water running and the sound of you muttering about how recruits get worse and worse every year. He laughed under his breath, undressing himself to join you inside the shower. 

“Y/N,” He murmured, his hand reaching over to slide your shower door open. “I’m coming to join you.”

You just replied with what seemed like an, “Okay.” 

Bucky knew it from the way your back was tense under the scalding hot water- which he still had no idea how you enjoy. Your wet hair was sticking against the nape of your neck and the sinful bubbles from your shampoo were cascading down the small of your back, stopping before the curve of your ass. He pressed up against you, rubbing his hard on against your flesh and his metal hand moved found your neck, slightly squeezing it. 

“Tough day?” He asked, lips teasing the skin on your jaw. He peppered kissed down your body, stopping at your collarbone to turn you around so you faced him. 

“Very.” You whispered, your soft fingers trailing down his arms and down to his abdomen. You traced the outline of his abs, biting your bottom lip when your eyes met the tip of his dick. 

“My friend wants to say hi,” Bucky chuckled, darkly. His voice was deeper than usual and his eyes were glued to yours. It always amazed you how he was able to use his words, dripping with seduction and lust, and still managed to look so utterly beautiful. “He hasn’t come out in a while.”

Your hand grazed down to his dick, slowly stroking it from the base until the tip. Bucky’s confident demeanor slowly subsided and he was panting, whimpering, under the mix of your touch and the sensation of the hot water on his skin. Your lips found his chest, leaving animalistic marks of your own. “I missed him too. Shall we bring him out tonight?”

The tip of his tongue poked out the side of his lips, slowly coating his dry lips with a layer of slickness. He looked down at your small hand, wrapped around his length and he let out a broken sigh at the sight. Bucky looked up at you, the facade of innocence enough to drive him over the edge. “Let’s.”

You smirked, slowly increasing the pace of your strokes. 

“Желание.” 

He shut his eyes, his face twisting in a mix of pleasure and pain. 

“Ржавый.”

You kissed down his body, your hand not leaving his hardened length. 

“Семнадцать.”

You were on your knees now, a hint of Bucky still resisting to fight the Winter Soldier because he wanted to see you on your knees before he gave up his control. 

“Рассвет.”

Your lips wrapped around his length, feeling him moan at the feeling from above you. 

“Печь.”

You looked at him under your eyelashes, the mascara you wore being nothing but a messy smudge under your eyes now.

“Девять.“

His hands grabbed your hair, softly. You could feel it was still Bucky you were with, with the way he caressed your head after tugging on it.

“Добросердечный.”

“Y/N,” Bucky moaned, his hips bucking up against your mouth despite how hard he tried not to. “Fuck, baby.”

“Возвращение на Родину.”

You heard the crunching of the metal plates on his arm, the sound of the vibration sending shivers down your spine.

“Один.”

You bobbed your head up and down, your other hand taking care of the parts you couldn’t take in.

“Товарный вагон.”

You felt his demeanor change. His body felt heavier. His hips snapped against your mouth, mercilessly. You felt the tears brimming your eyes, your jaw starting to numb with his force. You choked on his length as it hit the back of your throat, your gagging made him groan at the feeling. You gripped on his thighs, your fingers digging into his flesh. 

He continued to fuck your mouth, his metal hand grabbing a handful of hair with every rock of his hips. He took his flesh hand and slapped the side of your cheek, making you look at him. You could tell it was no longer Bucky. 

You felt the sticky liquid coating the inside of your mouth. You kept your lips on him until he physically pulled you off him. Once you were faced with him, you saw the empty look in his eye. He looked at you with nothing but lust, a complete 180 from how Bucky looked at you during these intimate moments. 

You licked your lips, still tasting him on the surface of your lips. “Welcome, soldat.”

The soldier followed you out the shower, his eyes trailing the every move of your body. He clenched his fist, wanting to wreck you as he watched you sway your hips. 

You looked over your shoulder, curling a finger towards him to signal him to come closer. “Come on, soldat. You know your mission.”

He nodded, his arms grabbing you towards him. You gasped when you felt his rough touch, his hips rolling against your back. You let out a small scream when his hand made his way down to your core, spreading the growing wetness around. His teeth nibbled at the exposed skin of your back. 

You stumbled back on the bed, allowing yourself to fall captive to the stare of the Winter Soldier. He was propped up on top of you, his forearms holding himself up. He stared at you for a moment, taking in your current state. You looked wrecked. Your lips were puffy and red, your jaw hanging because it was numb, and your eyes looked at him with absolute desperation. 

He laughed, his chest rumbling with the sound, “You look so pathetic like this.”

You breathed out, gently lifting your hips to meet his, hoping he’ll get the hint. He pushed down your hips, swiftly. His fingers dug into your hipbone. You knew you would be bruised but God, you did not care about that right now. You just wanted him. 

“So desperate for me,” He whispered, head dipping down to quickly peck you on the lips before making his way down to your breasts. He sucked on your left nipple, using a hand to play with the other. “Such a needy slut, aren’t you?”

“Only for you, Soldat.”

He let his metal hand make its way down to your aching core. You shivered at the sensation of his hands pleasuring you. He stuck in two fingers unexpectedly, causing you to nearly jump. He didn’t give you time to adjust. He quickly pumped them in and out of you, the sound of his fingers entering you mixing with the sounds that left your lips. He pulled his fingers out and tapped them on your bottom lip. You opened your eyes to look at him while you sucked on his coated fingers. 

He flashed you a devilish smile, loving the way your tongue swirled between his two digits as you licked them clean. Once he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, he replaced them with his lips. This kiss was sinful. 

Teeth clashing, hands grabbing at anything, everything, and moans being silenced by his hand wrapping around your throat. He silenced you with a simple pinch against your neck. He pushed his hips against yours, the feeling of his tip rubbing your clit nearly making you come undone. 

You pulled away, breathless, “Need you.”

He glared at you, taking his hand and wrapping it around his own member. He tapped his tip against your wetness, hissing at the pleasurable feeling. You allowed your legs to open wider for him but he simply just rubbed against your clit, not daring to put it inside. “You get me when I say you get me.”

He gripped both of your wrists in his metal hand, not allowing you to touch him. You groaned, wanting nothing else but to claw down the soldier’s muscular back. You couldn’t do anything else but arch your back off the bed, trying to get him closer to you. 

“No,” He snapped, tightening his grip on you. “Do you not listen to what I say?”

You immediately stopped. You gulped, watching his hand slowly move up and down his cock. The slickness of you and his pre-cum made the muscle slick and it shone under the light of your bedroom. You watched hungrily as he picked up the pace. You moaned, wanting it to be your walls to milk him. 

“Soldat,” You begged, your voice dripping in desire. “please. Let me.”

He simply smirked, pumping himself until his second release. He groaned, his hand squeezing his member softly and prompted his undoing. White strings of cum oozed out from his tip, landing on your chest. He let go of himself, dragging two fingers on your chest to collect his release. 

He was about to wipe it off when he heard you whimper. He cocked an eyebrow, letting go of your now bruised wrists. Your eyes were glued at the white substance staining his fingers. “Want it?”

You nodded, crawling over to him where he extended his two fingers. He watched as you moaned at his taste. It wasn’t long until he was hard again. He grabbed your jaw, forcing you to straighten up and kiss him once more.

His tongue was in your mouth, tasting himself and your own sweetness on your tongue. He palmed your ass, picking you up so you sat right on his lap. His member was poking your entrance, earning a gasp from you. He helped you roll your hips against his, his hands not finding a steady place for him to grip you. His metal hand smacked your ass until it was as bright as a cherry. You groaned upon seeing your reflection in your mirror. 

The print of his hand was so prominent, it looked so much like a tattoo. He pushed you off him, turning you around so your back was faced towards him. He faced you towards the same mirror, allowing you to watch him as he took you from the back. 

He pushed the small of your back down into the mattress, wanting your ass to be up in the air. Your face was smushed down the sheets, eyes darting to the mirror in front of you. He caught your eye from the mirror. He grabbed your face, forcing you to turn and look at him for a quick second. “Want you to see how good I fuck you. If you look away, I stop. Eyes on me the whole time. Understand?” 

You merely nodded, which was a mistake. He slapped your ass again, accompanied by a harsh tug of your hair. “Understand?”

“Yes, soldat.” You gulped. “Understood.”

He let go of your hair, letting your head fall with a thud. He spread your legs some more, pushing down on your back to maintain the perfect arch. He rubbed his tip against your entrance and finally, he entered you. 

“God, yes.” You moaned, shutting your eyes for a quick second. 

Slap.

“What the fuck did I say?”

“Eyes on you the w-whole time.” You managed to croak out. He continued to push into you, the sound of your ass slapping against his thighs. Along with his hips, he pulled you off him and pushed you back down with every thrust. He was throwing you around like you weighed nothing, your cries of absolute pleasure nearly drowning out the sound of skin slapping. 

You felt beads of sweat drip down your back. You watched him in the mirror as he disappeared inside you after every thrust. He was staring at you, lip caught between his teeth. He watched your face contort into pleasure when he hit that spot. He knew what he had to do next after that.

He flipped you over, pulling out of you for a quick second. He found that spot again, hitting it over and over again. He knew that once he hit that spot, you would be coming undone soon. And he loved to see you wither under him. 

He continued the same pace, his fingers finding their way down to your core. He rubbed your clit with his metal hand as he thrusted into you, a shrill scream emerging from your lips. He laughed in a sultry manner, increasing his pace. 

“Oh-oh-oh,” You moaned out, the rest of the English words suddenly leaving your mind. You forgot every other word you knew, opting to just make sounds to convey your pleasure. His metal hand was vibrating on your clit. The coolness of the metal felt so good against your hot skin. 

He continued to fuck you through your first release. Then through your second. And third. His metal hand not slowing down its vibrations and coolness. It was like it had a mind of its own. It played with you like it was loving the way your arousal coated it. You moaned, feeling the sensitivity of your core. 

“Soldat, I can’t.”

You knew he wanted to make you cum one more time. But your body was worn out, especially with the way he continued to hit that same spot with the snap of his hips. “You can and you will.”

The sternness in his voice was enough to motivate you. His thrusts were becoming sloppy, you knew he was close. He pulled out of you and sat down. He pulled you on his lap again, this time allowing you to sink down on his dick He turned you both to the side. “Watch us.”

You stared at the way he pulled you off his dick and you watched it as it disappeared into you. The mirror was starting to slowly fog, the room smelling like sex and arousal. You watched him, hair sticking to his forehead and eyebrows furrowed. “Soldat, I’m close.”

“Me too.”

He picked up the pace, breaking his trance from watching you on the mirror and allowed himself to close his eyes. His lips sucked on your nipples, another wave of pleasure making its way down your body. You moaned to release one last time and that did it for him. He spilled inside you, groaning and biting the skin of your shoulder as he filled you with his seed. 

He pulled you off him, watching as his cum oozed out of you. You were too tired to do anything but you knew you had to bring Bucky back before the soldier decided to go rogue. You leaned towards your dresser, wincing at the pain of your lower half. You retrieved the injection that Bruce created for Bucky. 

The soldier looked at you, chest rising up and down. He knew it was his time to go. You smiled softly at him before jamming the injection in his right thigh. He hissed at the feeling but soon his shoulders slumped down and his breathing pattern changed. 

Bucky smiled at you tiredly, wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer. “Hopefully that made your day a little better.”

“Mhm,” you mumbled against his lips. “Much.”

[magnoliasinbloom]

Lie To Me - 9

AO3 :: Previously

Claire blinks, visibly baffled. For a moment, she doesn’t even know what to say, processing what Jamie’s revelation means for their own relationship. She shakes her head to clear it. “You say that having children is one way for your uncles to take the land. How do you manage to not… you know?” Claire blushes.

“Och, Sassenach, I’ve told them that the burns may have made me… unable to sire children. Nerve damage and such.” Jamie matches her reddening cheeks. They both know he is perfectly capable of performing.

“The other way they win is if you—you die. Does this mean that they’ve tried that?”

“Not yet. I agreed to marry as well because Jenny has bairns of her own, including boys. They can inherit too, but I dinna wish my uncles to harm them in their pursuit of wealth and power.” Jamie’s voice is hard. “There was the fire, but that was merely a happy accident that didna turn out as well as they would have hoped.”

“The fire? Your scars?” Claire asks, and Jamie and Murtagh exchange glances.

“Start at the beginning, a bhalaich. Dinna confuse the puir lassie.” Murtagh pours them another tumblerful. Claire is still nursing the first drink, her mind reeling with the information regarding Jamie’s marriage.

“A few years ago, I was working late at night at the Leoch office building. I was still inexperienced, tryin’ to prove meself at the job. I had a colleague; his name was Alexander McGregor.” Jamie’s eyes are full of shame, but his voice is steady. “He had stayed that night too. When I was finally leaving, I noticed he was in a private conference room, with the blinds drawn. That was smart, for Alex knew there were cameras in there. I thought it might be something serious, for their talk grew so heated I could hear the argument coming from the room. I thought I’d knock and defuse the situation.” Jamie paused to take a deep draught. Claire is tempted to reach for his hand and comfort him, but senses this is a story he has to tell for himself.

“Before I could turn the doorknob, I heard a muffled gunshot and I broke into the room. I could only see Alex for a second, slumped in a chair, blood pouring from a hole in his stomach. The man struck me in the heid wi’ the gun, and I dropped like a stone.” Claire gasps softly.

Jamie plows ahead resolutely. “I woke up a few minutes later when I smelled the smoke, the gun in my own hand, and it was already too late. Alex was dead, and the room was up in flames. The man had rigged the wiring on the overhead lights when he left and caused the fire, disabling the sprinklers too. Wi’ the closed door, it was an inferno. My back was seared and blistered, the skin peeling off as I tried to get Alex’s body out. Or so the doctors told me.  ‘Twas a miracle I survived at all.”

Murtagh clears his throat. “He was in the hospital for a month. Jenny and I were terribly worried, thinking he might not pull through.”

“But why?” Claire bursts out, bewildered. “Why kill Alex?”

“Alex discovered internal documents that implicated men in power, links to bank accounts of several police officers, judges, and politicians on Leoch Holdings’ payroll. My uncles were—are—trading money for favors, overturning convictions, and legislating in the company’s interests.”

“During the investigations, we found no trace of any document in the room, most everything had burned up,” Murtagh says. “There was also no CCTV footage available. Someone had tampered with the video.” With this, the old man stood up, and unlocked a metal filing cabinet next to his desk. Claire watched in fascination as he manipulated a false bottom and extracted a fat manila envelope. “But then we got these.”

“Murtagh took care of my dingy flat while I was in hospital. Alex had messengered over copies of the documents in secret—wise of him, to leave no digital trace. There was a letter explaining what it all meant, and who the man was—Stephen Bonnet, he’s a commander in the force. Murtagh saw it, and could verify that my name was not on the records. Therefore, I was unlikely to be involved in my uncles’ dirty business.”

“Why did he not tell you from the start?” Dread was settling into Claire’s very bones, as she grasped the magnitude of the situation.

“He didna trust me, I imagine. Upon his discovery, he assumed I was in cahoots with my uncles, bein’ family and all. But I made certain comments to him that probably convinced him I was unaware of their dealings.”

“What did you tell him?”

“At the time, when I started at Leoch, my uncles were pressuring me to date and marry Laoghaire. I told Alex this, and said that it was wrong and I plain didna want to, and if they fired me for it, they could go fuck themselves and I’d work bagging groceries at Tesco before I’d let them bully me like that.” Claire almost smiles at this vehement outburst. “I lost on that account.”

“And Bonnet?”

“He was listed under an assumed name on the documents. That’s why Alex, poor lad, didna think he might be involved either. Bonnet fixed it so Alex’s body was not autopsied, so no one could ken of the gunshot wound that killed him. The McGregors were told there were no real remains, and they had only ashes to mourn. My uncles—”

“Threatened your life if you exposed them and forced you to marry,” Claire finishes for him. “But there is no proof of you doing any wrong!”

Murtagh sighed. “We thought so as weel. But Colum and Dougal’s reach is much longer than ye ken.”

“They had tech experts alter images and deep fake a video that pin Alexander’s death on me,” Jamie says. Claire shakes her head.

“But surely anyone—”

“’Tis my word against theirs. With their endless resources and contacts in law enforcement and the courts, who would believe me?” Jamie’s tone is final and resigned.

Silence weighs heavy in the air; Murtagh collects their empty glasses and sets them on his desk. “I’ve used my position in the force to continue to gather evidence, more papers, whatever I can use to help bring Colum and Dougal MacKenzie to justice, and absolve Jamie from any blame. I’ve involved Chief John Grey from the SCD, Specialist Crime Division, who works with organized crime, and it’s taken us years to be able to discern who to trust and who is in Leoch’s pockets.”

Claire is stunned at this turn of events. She had expected a godfather who at best, might cajole her into believing that Jamie’s marriage was a lie, an economic convenience of sorts, and that had been true after a fashion. But she had not predicted that this was an issue involving crime, illegal activities, and the death of an innocent man. Jamie appears to read her thoughts.

“That is the truth, Sassenach, and I trust ye enough that I ken well ye willna expose the ongoing investigation, or speak to anyone about what happens at Leoch. I’ve endangered yer very life by making ye privy to my story, and for that I am truly sorry.”

“Jamie, I—” Claire’s voice breaks. She casts about for what she wants to say. “Thank you for trusting me. I won’t say anything, not even to Geillis,”—at this she remembers G is still waiting in the lobby— “and… and I want you to understand, we are what we make ourselves, we use what we have, and we decide what we are. You, James Fraser, are an honorable man.”

X-x-X

Jamie remains behind to spend time going over new evidence with Murtagh. Claire assures him Geillis and she will head straight to their flat, and he asks if she would call him tomorrow. He doesn’t want to assume, he doesn’t want to lie anymore; he will give her time to think, to decide if this is something she also wants, if she feels as he does, their short acquaintance be damned. Can Claire risk her heart?

There is an unbearable weight of sorrow pressing upon Claire’s spirit; as she rides the elevator, descending numbers flashing in the display, she racks her brain trying to figure out if there is anything, anything at all she can do to ease his burden.

When she spots Geillis waiting for her, she realizes how lucky she is to have a friend like her—unconditional, constant, a forever kind of friend. G had been there for her in her darkest times, even when…

Suddenly it hits Claire. Without a word, Geillis follows her out into the rainy Glasgow night.

“What’s happened? Are ye convinced? Was he telling the truth?”

“Oh, G. I can’t even tell you. He’s for real, and he’s just been so unlucky in life… I have to help him.”

“What do you mean? Help him how?”

“I’m going to call Frank.”

[monchikyun]

X. tattoo on your shoulder

“I… I miss you.” He lets the tears freeze over on his reddened cheeks as he tracks the footprints left around the grave. They are all his. Gavin is the only one present in this gloomy place this late at night. It’s a wonder he even managed to sneak in, given the sheer amount of pain he’s in. His fingers have gone numb from the cold, while his heart has slowly been turning into an icicle ever since the moment he kicked Connor out.

“I’m sorry for not visiting more often. It’s just..” too hard. He dreads the memories born on the day the one person he loved enough to die for did exactly that. “I’ve met someone… someone good,” he sniffles, remembering the reason he isn’t there with him. “You would adore him, ...just like I do.” A broken piece of laughter escapes his throat, which prompts him to finally wipe the crystallising liquid out from his face. It stings as it comes off, providing him with the punishment he craves.

“I don’t know what to do. I’ve never felt something this… strong for anyone and it’s killing me that I can’t do anything about it.”  Because he’s afraid, because he has issues with self-control, because he has become so used to his miserable existence that he can’t accept the possibility of being happy for once… and other such excuses. How pathetic can one be before it starts endangering the people around him?

“I must be boring you. Never mind me and my stupid problems, how have you been doing up there, ...are they treating you well?”

He places his palm over the name etched on the marble slab and squeezes his teary eyes shut. “Merry Christmas. I hope I’ll see you again one day, mother.”

After letting himself give his mind to sorrow, the absence of his android becomes an urgent priority. How on earth is he going to apologise for this one he can’t begin to imagine. All he can think about is getting back to his friend. If something bad happened to him while he was alone Gavin would never forgive himself.

The first thing he does after he enters his car is trying to dial up his number. A difficult task for his trembling fingers, but at last he can hear the voice he loves so.

“Yes?”

“Hey. Can you- can you send me your GPS coordinates so I can come pick you up?”

The notification sound arrives sooner than Connor’s answers, which makes him calm down a bit. But the android keeps saying nothing, resulting in his stress levels rising right back up.

“Connor.”

“…”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

 He’ll tell him that a thousand times over as soon as they’ll come together again.

The drive there is dreadfully long, accompanied by the melody of his unfruitful thoughts. Connor has all the right in the world to be mad at him, and Gavin shouldn’t expect him being ready to jump straight into his arms, even though that prospect is more than alluring.

But nothing justifies creating pictures of the android’s dead body in his head. Stuff even his nightmares won’t show him. All the talk about Connor’s potential demise the other day has raised up his overall anxiety and he has to do everything just to unthink the snow tainted by a pool of blue, a hole in milky white plastic. An empty look blaming him for stealing life away from those sparkling eyes.

A hand waving at him in greeting.

Oh. He’s almost driven past Connor without stopping, all because his mind has been too full of imaginary corpses to notice the real thing. 

“I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing his mouth automatically lets out, just like he figured it would.

“Hello to you too.” Fortunately, Connor behaves like his usual self, so maybe he still has a chance to turn their trip around.

“Are you okay?” It’s Gavin who should be asking that, seeing as his friend is covered head to toe in snow. He really wants to brush it off his hair and coat, a privilege he’s just lost.

“Yeah,… no.” The least he can do is be honest. “Do you… do you want to go home… or?”

Connor shakes his head in disapproval, sticking out his hand to him.

“We could stay here.” His palm holo-projects a web-page of some nearby motel, stating that they have vacancies for weary travellers just like them.

“Yeah, that would be great.”

---

When he said it would be great, he meant absolutely fucking horrible. No one has told him they would be forced to share a room, that he would have to be placed in a situation where he could easily slip up and do something he might regret yet again. Maybe he should just accept his eventual demise and get the most out of it while he can.

“You should eat something.”

“Not hungry.”

“I packed a healthy snack for you.”

“What are you, my wife?”

Connor gives him that deviously innocent look which never fails to make his blood rush straight to his face.

“Okay, okay, but let me take a shower first.”

He starts undressing his jacket, having gotten comfortable in the warmth the sparse room provides.

“I’m not mad or anything, by the way.”

“You should be.”

“No, I understand that sometimes a person has to be alone in order to figure stuff out.”

“I-“

“We don’t have to talk about it now. There’ll be plenty of time later... if you choose to tell me, that is.”

In the course of their short conversation, he’s already stripped most of his upper layers, finding himself only in his sleeveless undershirt. Not something he intended to do, but it’s not like he has something to hide anyway. 

Out of a sudden, the atmosphere gets even heavier than before as he becomes very self-conscious and notices Connor staring at his shoulder, the same one he likes to cry on.

“May I?”

There it goes again. The perfect opportunity to back away.

“Sure, go ahead.”

Smooth fingers outline the numbers painted on his skin with a feather-light touch, like he’s an ancient relic that could get fractured if the android pressed too hard.

“It’s the date my mother died.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

The words he has no right for tonight. But who is he to reject Connor’s sentiment.

“It’s beautiful, though.” His younger self thought it cool to add some angel-like wings and flowers around the number, so it doesn’t look as sad. He doesn’t mind the look of it that much but never has he thought someone would like it even more.

“Is that where you went,… to see your mother?”

He only nods, since he’s afraid his voice would betray his returning grief.

“I see.” It’s the last thing Connor says before placing a small tender kiss at the place where the two wings meet.

His chest splits in two and Gavin knows that there is no coming back from this.

@a-convin-new-year

[lochrannn]

AU_gust: Let me play among the stars

Read on AO3

Prompt no 17: Wings

Relationships: Lila Pitts & Allison Hargreeves, minor Lila Pitts/Diego Hargreeves

Characters: Lila Pitts, Allison Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves

-

AN: So, you may have noticed that David Castañeda can’t wink and I’ve checked, canonically neither can Diego, so this comes up.

-

It’s half eleven in the morning at the Schiphol Hilton hotel bar and the staff have apparently taken pity on Lila and Allison and have not queried why they decided to drink Scotch before midday.

Lila took on her very first flight as first officer to Captain Allison Chestnut only about eleven hours ago and yet she feels like it has been a life altering experience. Or at the very least, after hundreds of hours of flight training, this trip has been the weirdest thing that has ever happened to her and in hindsight she thinks she was desperately ill prepared to contend with either members of the public or the fucking airline crew itself.

 Roughly 11 hours earlier

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Allison Chestnut, I’ll be your captain for our overnight flight. With us today is First Officer Lila Pitts. We’re expecting clear skies ahead and with some tail winds we are hoping to arrive in Amsterdam about thirty minutes ahead of schedule. Once we’ve fully ascended, our cruising altitude will be approximately thirty five thousand feet. I wish you a very pleasant flight on board our plane and now I’d ask you to pay close attention to our cabin crew, headed up by chief flight attendant, Klaus Hargreeves, for the safety announcement.”

Allison clicks off the com and turns down the volume of the cabin announcement, and Lila can just about make out the cheerful voice of Klaus, who she only met while they were doing the final checks of the aircraft but took an instant liking to.

Lila is extremely nervous and doing everything in her power not to show that she’s intimidated by the fact that her first flight in a position of actual authority is with one of the most senior captains in the airline.

Even the relief crew seem significantly more experienced than Lila herself. At least that’s her impression with how Allison greeted the relief first officer, Vanya Cooper. The other pilot completely slipped by her, but Lila could have sworn she heard Vanya and Allison refer to him as Five. Must be some kind of nickname.

Despite her rank, Allison spends a lot of time chatting to Lila, as they don’t have that much going on once they are cruising. The other pilot tells Lila about her kid, her husband, who is apparently a professor, about her recent trips, and how much she loves the job.

She asks Lila how she came by her accent and they talk about how Lila ended up working for an American airline after effectively fleeing the UK and from a bad break-up.

Eventually Lila decides to ask about the thing that surprised her the first time she read the flight roster. “So, do you often fly with a crew where so many of the pilots are women compared to an all male cabin crew?”

“Huh, I hadn’t even thought about that,” Allison muses, then goes on, “It’s a hell of a combination of stewards, though, some of the nuttiest people working for this airline, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them all fly together. I’m sure it’s absolute mayhem back there.”

“How d’you mean?” Lila asks.

“Well, there’s Klaus, who is very good at his job, but an awful flirt and, well, he’s garnered a bit of a reputation. Then there’s Luther. Genuinely lovely guy, everybody loves working with him, but he’s just really not very good with passengers. Diego’s the complete opposite. Passengers love him, he makes a new best friend on every flight. Most people who work with him, though, think he’s kind of an asshole. Except maybe for Klaus and Ben, they seem to get on with him. Ben is actually the only one out there who I’d say is unquestionably competent, very snarky, but charming nevertheless. I’ve not flown much with Elliott, so can’t tell you much about him and I’ve never met the other guy. Axel was it?”

Lila checks the roster, nods and says, “Yupp.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll get plenty of opportunities to make up your own mind about these guys. I will say this though, I’ve seen them all in bigger and smaller crisis situations and they really do all step up then.”

Lila is grateful for the amount of information Allison is willing to share with her. She wonders if this is considered gossipy or if it’s just a necessary exchange of intel with a coworker. Either way, she thinks it’s really useful.

About three quarters into their flight time, Allison and Lila are relieved by Vanya and “Five” and when they step into the cabin the light is already dimmed in an attempt to get the passengers to settle down in a hope that they will sleep.

Just after herself and Allison get comfortable in their seats Klaus turns up in the aisle and says in a low voice to Allison, “Uh, skip, it seems we have a bit of a situation in coach and we were wondering if maybe someone with a bit more authority is just the thing we need to nip this in the bud.”

Allison pulls her sleep mask off her eyes, turns to glare at Klaus and then turns to Lila with a glint in her eyes that definitely juxtaposes the pleasant smile she directs at her and says, “Oh, I think this would be a great learning experience for our new first officer, don’t you think, Klaus?”

“Sure,” Lila says with all the confidence she doesn’t feel, gets up out of her seat and follows Klaus into the back section of the plane.

 Back at the hotel bar

“So, was this one of the weirder things to happen on a flight, or would you consider shit like this to be normal?” Lila asks Allison in a congenial tone.

“I’ve definitely seen shit that was way more crazy than this,” a far more gruff voice than she expected, answers Lila’s question, before Diego sits down on the barstool next to her.

Lila looks over at him and he does a thing with his eyes…. if she had to describe it she’d say he’d blinked at her with... intent… is that supposed to be a wink? Lila’s almost embarrassed for him, but somehow he pulls it off. If he was any less handsome, he most definitely wouldn’t have, so Lila decides simply not to dignify that nonsense with a response.

Instead she turns around to Klaus, who’s just sat down on Allison’s other side, is pushing his hair back dramatically and drawls, “Oh Schätzchen, you’ve not seen weird until you start dealing with dead bodies at forty thousand feet above sea level.”

Lila snorts into the drink she’s just brought to her lips.

 About 6 hours earlier

On their short walk Klaus gives her the cliffnotes of the issue. “This weirdo English guy keeps demanding to go into the hold because he has some apparently precious cargo to check on and we’ve been trying to keep him calm, but he’s starting to wake up the passengers around him. Diego’s talking to him now, but I don’t think they’re getting on very well.”

Up ahead Lila sees a man about Klaus’s height, with dark hair and a tight fade, leaning into one of the rows of seats and it seems like he’s talking to one of the passengers intently.

She probably shouldn’t, seeing as their coworkers, but she does notice right away that he fills his uniform out very nicely and that he’s clearly got some deliberate designer stubble going on to enhance the sharp cut of his jaw.

But Lila pulls her thoughts back to the situation at hand and the fact that she probably has never had a situation where she needed to be as professional as now.

“I don’t know what to tell you, man… Even if you have the queen of England in a crate down in the hold, we just can’t let you go down there mid flight!” the steward, who Lila assumes must be Diego, explains to a man with grey hair, a tidy Van Dyke mustache, and… Christ, how pretentious can one guy be? … a monocle, sitting in the seat by the window.

She takes a deep breath and walks up to the commotion.

“What seems to be the problem here, gentlemen?” Lila asks as calmly as possible.

Diego opens his mouth, presumably to explain what’s going on, but he’s interrupted by monocle guy, who says in a clipped accent that reminds Lila uncomfortably of one of her old headmasters, “Ah, finally someone with some seniority. I am entirely exhausted trying to explain to this imbecile that I have important scientific business to take care of in the hull of this aeroplane. Young lady, would you do me the favour of providing me with access to my work?”

Lila ignores the scowl that comes across Diego’s face and instead says, again calmly, though she’s quickly understanding why the stewards have reached the end of their patience, “First officer Pitts, please.”

“Apologies, madame!” the pushy passenger shoots back, and Lila is annoyed by his lack of sincere contrition, but at least Diego sniggered next to her as she pulled rank, so that’s something.

“I am really sorry, Sir, we just cannot let you go down there, but may I ask what’s so important, you’d risk decompression in the cabin, endangering all of your fellow passengers?” Lila uses her poshest voice, hoping that she’ll appeal to this guy that way, and she really hopes she’s not veered into parody. At least her fellow stewards wouldn’t be able to tell.

“Says he’s got a sedated monkey in a crate,” Diego drawls before the passenger can answer and earns himself a withering stare by the grey-haired man.

“It’s a chimpanzee, you nimrod!” monocle guy spits at him and Lila ignores the way Klaus’s hand lands on Diego’s shoulder as he twitches forward.

Instead she addresses the passenger again, “I’m sure all the necessary precautions were taken to keep your chimpanzee comfortable and safe on this flight and I have to urge you to calm down. There is absolutely no way we can allow for you to go into the hold and I must point out that you’re beginning to upset the other passenger.”

“This is ridiculous!” the man exclaims and then completely surprises Lila by getting up abruptly, pushing past her and Klaus and making his way swiftly along the aisle towards the front of the plane.

That’s when things go bananas, because before either herself or Klaus can respond, Diego has launched himself past them and after the monocle guy, rugby tackles him to the ground, and to Lila’s complete horror, a huge, blond man in a steward’s uniform appears at the other end of the aisle to help Diego wrestle the unruly passenger into the middle section of the plane, where they swiftly draw the curtains so the passengers near them, who’ve been roused by the commotion, can’t see what’s going on.

 After two more rounds at the Schiphol Hilton hotel bar

“... so we had to get the fire crew to bring on a wheelchair so we could weekend-at-bernie’s that mofo and get his corpse off the plane before the other passengers even found out that anyone had died.” Klaus finishes his tale.

“Jesus,” Lila breathes. Allison just shrugs her shoulders.

“Right, Tom Bradey over there and I have to get going. You see, Lila, cabin crew don’t get the same amount of rest time during turnaround as the VIP do. That’s what I call the Very Important Pilots, ya know,” Klaus says and winks at her, then gives Allison a quick hug before he walks away.

The two women turn to Diego and he suddenly hesitates. Then he says, “See you around, I guess,” and taps the bar top with his fingers before he also heads away.

“Huh,” Allison says, a bit bemused, but then Lila notices that Diego wasn’t tapping just the surface of the bar but had actually shoved his cocktail napkin towards her. She picks it up and realises that he’s scribbled something on it. It reads ‘come say hi’ and then what she presumes must be a room number underneath.

“I thought you said Klaus was the one with the reputation,” Lila says, her mouth’s gone a bit dry as she turns around to Allison to show her the napkin.

“Huh! Never thought that grumpy asshole had it in him.” Allison intones almost more to herself. “You must have really impressed him,” she says to Lila then, with a bit of a laugh in her voice.

“Mmmh, but I mean, obviously I can’t go up there... right?” Lila says hesitantly, not quite sure she knows how she wants Allison to respond.

“I mean, obviously I’m a married woman, so maybe I’m the wrong person to ask, but I can only tell you it happens all the time, so I’d say go for it,” Allison offers with a shrug.

“Nah, I really shouldn’t, but I do think I'll also head to bed now. It was really nice flying with you Allison, even if things got a bit weird.” Lila says to Allison with a smile and a wave.

“Yeah, was great flying with you, too. I’m sure we’ll have many more opportunities to do so!” Allison responds as Lila starts walking away.

Then Lila stops, pivots on her heels, picks up the napkin and then whines a “shut uuuup!” at Allison when the other woman bursts out laughing.

[apollosbastard]

WIP weekenddddsssss yaaayyy

Major vanilla Persona 5 spoilers and angst ahead

It takes place immediately after the -redacted- fight in Shido’s palace

The atmosphere in the engine room was tense. Akechi had already undergone a transformation of his appearance and abilities. The Thieves has no idea what else he could have up his flared sleeves.

For now the fighting has ceased. Huffs from the active team members and Akechi’s own rattling breaths were the only sound competing with the machinery.

“... My entire life I’ve gotten by on my own. So why? Why can’t I BEAT YOU?!”

He throws his arms to his sides and yells to the ceiling. The Thieves ready themselves for another bout but their leader waves them off. Makoto tilts her head to Akira. “Don’t think he’ll try again?” Akira just shakes his head.

Footsteps, from a previously unknown entrance approach their position. All the Thieves were low on stamina from the fight, and Akira can only imagine how tired their single combatant is after their battle. This wasn’t like last time either. In mementos, Akechi had claimed he’d been holding back. At the time, Akira thought he was just doing damage control for his bruised pride but as it turns out he was telling the truth.

Room still quiet, the footsteps find their way to the party’s position.

“Shadow incoming!” Oracle warns. The footsteps close in as the aforementioned shadow makes it’s appearance. Akechi, or at least a cognition born of Shido’s twisted psyche, strode confidently into the engine room. He was dressed in a simple dress shirt and slacks, lacking any of the accessories unique to the genuine article. Before anyone could question his appearance before them, he raised his hand in a quieting gesture;

“Let’s get right to business, shall we? Once again you’ve managed to fail our captain and once again he is unconvinced of your- Our” he adds with a sneer, “dedication to his design. I refuse to allow you to continue to hinder our efforts.” A gun, identical to the one Akechi had used in the interrogation room, manifests in the cognition’s hand as though it’d always been there. “You’ve become a liability. Surely you’re aware of how liabilities are dealt with.” Akira was still extremely antsy from the fight and reason had taken a backseat to pure instinct. After all, Crow was a Phantom Thief and this was a like a hold up. Before he could consider what he was doing, he launched himself towards the fake, tackling him to the ground.

The metal interior amplified the explosive sound of a gunshot so loud it was nearly deafening. There was a reason he ordered the Thieves hold off on taking any shots during the fight.

Akira and the cognition fought on the floor until Yusuke made it to their position and pulled Akira off of the fake and behind the defensive wall of their team.

“Panther! I think the time’s well suited for an attack!”

“Gotcha, Fox!”

Walls appeared around them and Ann was suddenly holding an umbrella.

They performed their showtime, Yusuke’s clean katana slash causing blood to hemorrhage from the wound until the cognitive shadow exploded into red and black smoke. When it cleared, they were alone again.

“Woah man what the hell?! You just ran in there!! Are you tryna’ get shot?!”

“‘Not ‘trying to’, no.” Akira retorted. Turning to the rest of the group he put his hands clenched into fists into his pockets, “Well we’ve got all five letters now. Let’s head to the main hall and regroup.” Ryuji huffed at his recklessness but it’s not as though he could say he hadn’t done things equally endangering so he let it go.

Akechi had been standing in shocked silence until now suddenly lurched forward almost animalisticly. He made a b-line for Joker but before he could get there his path was blocked by Makoto and Haru. Instead of forcing his way through he just yelled past them, by now far too exhausted to continue fighting.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! For what purpose could you have possibly done that?! He was about to kill me! Save you some fucking time and energy! Oh, oh is that it? You couldn’t bear the thought of the kill going to anyone else?! I suppose I can understand that. At least that’d prove you have at least one functioning braincell still rattling around in there.”

Akira frowned heavily. His poker face was good. Sometimes it was too good for his own well-being. He shook his head and started back towards the stairs.

“We still have the same end goal, Crow. Same as always.” He said over his shoulder.

With his back now the the others, he takes one hand out of his pocket and places it to his side.

Goddamnit it was worse than he thought.

Not like it was easy to tell with his gloves, though. Everyone was covered in soot from the exhaust vent they’d climbed in through so his vest was darker than usual too, aiding to further camouflage the growing stain. No matter. They didn’t have the time to deal with this right now. He’d just have to do a rough patch job in LaBlanc’s bathroom when they got home. Using the bathroom was practically the only time away from Morgana he got in the tiny café. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but Joker could already hear the outrage from the other Thieves over taking a bullet. And for Akechi, of all people. He wiped his hand off on his outer jacket and continued up the stairs.

Before long, the others caught up to him. Everyone except...

“Where’s Crow?” Joker asked Oracle. “Dunno. He didn’t say much after you left and didn’t look like he was coming with us...” Akira pursed his lips. Really Goro? After all that?

He hadn’t realized he’d stopped walking until Futaba had to turn back around to face him. “Hey, um...” she looked at him, expecting to finish her sentence but he cut her off.

“Hmm. We forgot the last will seed above the IT guy’s room. I’ll be right back.” He knew their navigator wasn’t an idiot. He didn’t have to make eye contact to know she didn’t believe him.

“What, you’re going alone? Are you stupid?”

“Probably.” he shrugged.

All the same, Futaba took the letters and with a final stern glare started again towards the hall.

With her departure, Joker allowed himself a moment wince at the worsening pain in his side. Sure, wounds inflicted in the metaverse didn’t hurt as much as reality, but a gunshot is a gunshot. The difference between searing pain and blinding pain weren’t distinct unless you happened to be experiencing both at once. The real difference was that instead of being able to go to a hospital -or even preferably Dr. Takemi- and get it treated and dealt with, he instead just had to live with it for a few days. Injuries sustained in the metaverse mostly healed when re-entering reality but still hurt like they were fresh for days after. He remembered one time he and Ryuji were at the batting cages and Ryuji was blaming a week old High Pixie bite on his hand for losing.

The closer he got to his destination -which was obviously not the last will seed- the clearer a sound made itself apparent to Joker’s ears. A jarring mixture of enraged screaming and choked sobbing.

Had something happened? Had more shadows appeared? Despite the protests from his abdomen, Akira started running. Quickly closing the remaining space back to the engine room a frantic look around the room marked it empty except someone laying on the floor with their back to the entrance. The cacophonous noise hadn’t stopped since his entrance so Joker supposed they hadn’t noticed him yet. The figure on the floor had to be Akechi but... he wasn’t wearing his metaverse disguise. Not even his old one that he’d worn in Sae’s palace. He was wearing his usual daily attire. His grey-ish tan blazer and black slacks. Joker began quietly down stairs, not wanting to scare him. He realized this could be a ploy of Cognitive Akechi’s but the sound coming from from the crumpled mess sounded far too real and Akira could hardly imagine he’d ever let Shido hear him cry.

“C- Crow? That’s you, right?” Akira cursed under his breath. His voice was shaky, either be it from the continuing blood loss or the current situation he couldn’t tell, but he didn’t appreciate the pathetic tone it gave him.

The crying immediately stopped.

Akechi threw himself on to his feet and started backing away from Akira. His eyes were wide and his expression was absolutely incomprehensible.

“Get away from me!”

“Crow, we’re leaving I ca-“

“I said get the fuck away from me!”

Akira put his hands up and took a step back. Something was wrong. Akechi was agressive for sure, but something was absolutely wrong about this.

After a few second of standing in surrendering silence Akira tried again;

“Crow what is it? What happened?” Akira knew Akechi had lost, but even directly after the fight he’d just been angry. Now he seemed scared. Terrified even, if his retreating steps with his back to the wall was any indication. Akechi’s eyes darted from Akira’s face to the rest of the room, to the catwalk, to the stairs, then back to his face. Without replying, he started clawing at his face, seemingly trying to tear off a mask that wasn’t there.

“LOKI!!” His scream was desperate. More-so even than it had been during their battle.

“DECEND LOKI!!!” He tried again, his fingers still trying to find purchase on his face. Akira ran forward and caught Akechi’s gloved, flailing hands in his own. Akechi’s eyes lock with Akira’s, shock clear on Joker’s face. Akechi’s breaths were shaky and getting longer and longer until he was practically hyperventilating. Akechi raises his gaze to the ceiling, hands still caught in Akira’s. Calling out a final,

“Robin Hood! To me!” his voice cracks in the last few seconds. Hearing him try to summon Robin Hood with the same unstable lilt he calls Loki with was honestly unnerving. The persona failed to appear though, even with the extra force in Akechi’s demand.

“...It’s like I forgot but I haven’t... I haven’t forgotten but I... they’re just... they’re not answering...” Akechi’s voice gets quieter as he continues mumbling to himself, looking at the floor to the side.

“Hey hey, it’s okay. I don’t know what happened but we can deal with this when we get ba-“ suddenly Akechi’s head snaps up from the floor and to where his hands were being held in Joker’s. He rips his hands back so quickly he loses one of his black gloves in Joker’s red ones. The sudden pull forward reignites the worst of the pain in Joker’s side. Akechi squares his shoulders and fixes his face in a steely glare, but also takes another step back.

He looks quizzically at Joker’s out of place expression. “Why’re you here? Change your mind about killing me? It’d be easier now than ever so I suggest you take the opportunity.” His words were sharp but his tone lacked edge. Akira shook his head, looking at him.

[thatfrogkiki]

Incendio

Revolution (Royal Witch AU)

Chapter Two: Incendio

Draco Malfoy x royal!Reader

Author: @thatfrogkiki​

Warnings: slowburn, swearing, political themes, eventual smut (everyone is 18+ in this AU), violence, etc.

Summary: The Reader gets caught by Draco in the forbidden history section of the library, but she’s found her book she was looking for. However, Draco refuses to leave her be without a fight.

Word Count: 1935

Author’s Note: I’m not sure how I feel about this chapter, but I thought I’d post it anyways! I have plans for more interesting chapters, so please stick around for them if you’d like! Any feedback is welcome by the way! I appreciate all your kind words!

Y/n = Your name

Y/m/n = Your middle name (going to be used as your fake last name)

~~~

*Reader’s POV*

I have to find it here… I just have to… If it isn’t here, it isn’t anywhere… I try my best to quickly scan each book on every bookshelf in the history section. The further I go into the forbidden history section, the heavier my chest feels. It makes me feel like I really shouldn’t be here, but I must go on. Nothing can stop me from fulfilling my destiny…

“C’mon, it has to be here somewhere…” I mumble out loud to myself. I sigh and close my eyes for a second. Without opening my eyes, I rest my head on the bookshelf ahead of me. When I get back up and open my eyes, they immediately focus on an unusual book with no name on its spine.

“That’s peculiar…” I go to pick it up, and a shiver runs down my spine. I can hear the chanting of my ancestors beating in my eardrums, but I ignore it. This is the book I was looking for:

Sols and Lunes: A History of Genocide

I’ve found it… I’ve finally found it! Tears begin streaming down my face as I open the book and start to read the first few pages. It’s encoded in some strange language of runes I’ve never seen before. 

“And what do you think you’re doing here?” I hear a voice practically yell at me, making me jump out of my own skin.

“H-huh?” I panic and stupidly ask who I now see to be that Draco kid from the dining hall.

“I said, ‘And what…’” He begins again, but I stop him by shushing.

“Shh! We’re gonna get caught if you don’t stop yelling!” I whisper angrily towards him.

“Oh please, no one’s gonna find us all the way back here. No one goes for the forbidden history section, it’s not nearly as exciting as the forbidden spells section…” Draco tries to joke with me, but I’m in no mood to be humorous. 

“Can I help you with something, then?” He steps closer to me slowly, and our height difference becomes more noticeable. I can tell he’s liking that, too, which pisses me off. 

“Not with anything specific… I just came to apologize for my behavior earlier, but then I noticed you sneaked off into here so I…” He trails off with a slight smirk on his face.

“You what? Thought you have leverage over me or something? Look, I’m not interested in being friends or anything you’re thinking of, so just leave me alone. I’m doing something rather important,” I step to the side and begin to walk away from him, but he holds his arm out to stop me. He grips my shoulder and shoves it gently towards the bookshelves.

“You might want to watch that tone of yours… Most people tend to know who they’re talking to, but you’re new so I’ll let it slide this time.” Draco throws me a wink as if I’d swoon, but instead I slam my shoe into his shin. He drops to one knee in pain, cussing me out.

“Watch your tone, Malfoy. Or else you might regret it.” I spit out with venom, slapping his hand off my shoulder. I start walking away again, but, before I get far enough, Draco stops me with a spell.

“Incarcerous!” He yells with his wand at the ready, and I’m immediately tied up with magic ropes. I stumble forward a little but still catch my balance.

“Heh, not so tough now, are ya?” Draco chuckles to himself as he strides towards me.

“Expelliarmus!” I shout back at him, and his wand flies out of his hand.

“H-how did you do that?! Your wand isn’t out…” He stops with shock in his eyes. I don’t answer him, as I’ve realized how stupid I am. I just informed him that I don’t need a wand to do magic spells, which means he might find out what I am… Before he can figure it out, I unbind myself from the ropes and make a run for it. I slip out of the restricted section and library, then head for the Slytherin dormitories again. Surprisingly, I make it all the way there without seeing Draco again. Once in my private room, I’m able to rest finally. I lean my back against my door and sigh with relief. However, I then get the thought that I’ve made an even more terrible mistake. 

“Oh fuck!” In mid-thought, I hear a knock at my door. I panic for a second, but collect myself and unlock the door.

“Hello, Y/m/n. It appears that you’ve left something behind…” Draco smirks, holding my book up to his chest.

“O-oh, yes… M-my mistake… If I could just have that back,” I reach out for it, but he snaps the book up in the air with his long, lanky arm.

“Ah, ah, ah! Where are your manners?” He takes a step forward, but I hold my ground with a glare. He takes another step, and we’re chest to chest. I know what he wants, but it’s not going to happen.

“Give it here, or else I’ll report you…” I try to threaten, but he doesn’t seem fazed.

“Try me.” He leans down and whispers into my ear. I finally take a step back, which seems to make Draco happy. With his foot, he shuts the door, leaving us alone in my room with no quick way out.

“Now, if you’re done sassing me, I’d like to ask you a few questions. I’ll give you your book back if you answer all of them,” Draco promises, but I’m warry to believe him. I know what he’s going to ask about before he does, but I just play along.

“Firstly, how’d you cast a spell without your wand out? Something like that takes years of practice, and no school would ever teach students such power…” He asks, and I try to come up with a good lie.

“I had my wand out, Malfoy. You just didn’t see cuz it was lowered.” I try, but he just quirks an eyebrow in response.

“Sure, you must think I’m as blind as Potter…” He rolls his eyes at me.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told the truth…” I begin to lie again, but Draco is having none of it.

“Just tell me, or you’ll never see your stupid book again,” He bluffs.

“Fine! I was taught from a young age by my mother,” I feel my face heat up from embarrassment. I hate having to talk about this kind of stuff with normal people. They know not what they meddle with…

“Your mother? And who taught her?” Draco asks.

“Her mother! It’s just been passed down in my family since the beginning of magic…” I answer annoyed.

“Since the beginning of magic?” Draco is taken aback by my answer, and I mentally cuss myself out.

“Uh, I mean… you know what I mean… It’s been forever since this tradition started, I guess… I’m not sure how it started…” I lie.

“No, no… You specifically said, ‘since the beginning of magic’. What do you mean by that?” He questions further.

“I didn’t mean anything by it! It was just an expression!” I lie again, but Draco shakes his head in disagreement.

“I… I can’t tell you…” I pip out.

“Why not?” He inquires, but I let out a frustrated sigh.

“I just can’t! I’m not going to endanger myself or you just because you’re curious!” I yell at him, but he stands his ground.

“You? Endangering me? Like you could…” Draco snickers, making me furious.

“Believe it or not, I can be quite powerful when I want to! You’re lucky we’re at Hogwarts, or else I’d have gotten rid of you a long time ago,” I cross my arms in front of me.

“Is that a threat?” Draco looks livid, but I don’t back down.

“Yes, so back off!” I shout, but Draco doesn’t listen. Instead, he brings my book back close to himself.

“I guess you won’t be needing this then,” He shrugs and takes out his wand.

“W-what are you doing?!” I try reaching for the book, but he’s already spoken his spell.

“Incendio!” A small fire sparks through his wand towards the book.

“No!” I scream for the book, but then it seems unharmed by the flames. Draco’s fire dies out, and we’re both left staring in awe.

“It’s enchanted…?” Draco asks himself, but I take the opportunity to snatch the book from his hand.

“Apparently… You should leave… I mean it,” I answer.

“Hm, I don’t want to… I want to know what that book really is, especially since it’s so important to you,” Draco states, but I ignore him. I begin to flip through the book, hoping to find a hidden key for the strange runes.

“What language is that?” Draco asks.

“Not sure… But seriously, you need to leave.” I close the book and glare his way.

“Why?” He questions.

“Because! Because… It’s dangerous for someone like you to be around someone like me…” I answer honestly.

“How so?” Draco doesn’t let it go.

“Because I tend to attract bad people in my life… People that want to do me and all around me harm…” I look away somewhat ashamed of the lifestyle I lead.

“Heh, I feel that… I don’t have many friends that would look out for me either…” I can feel Draco’s eyes on me still, and, for a moment, I feel pity for him.

“I’m sorry… But we can’t be friends.” I finally look him dead in the eyes and firmly state.

“Why not? I know I’m not always the most polite, but I’m not a complete asshole either,” Draco chuckles to himself, but I simply shake my head in disagreement.

“Again, it has nothing to do with how poor your character is. It’s a matter of safety. I’m not going to put anyone at risk just because they want to be friends with me,” I say with a slight broken heart. Admittedly, it’s been rather lonely the past few years on my own. It’s also rather terrifying to not have anyone that can help me with survival…

“I swear I can hold up my own, Y/n…” Draco practically pleads with me, and it takes everything in me to decline.

“I’m sorry, I can’t… Please just try to understand…” I look down at my feet in shame.

“Fine.” Draco spats out at me, and then I hear him open the door and leave. 

“God, why couldn’t I have been born into a normal family?” I feel my eyes start to tear up slightly. The people pleaser in me just wants to be friendly with everyone, but the danger I possess can’t risk being closer to anyone else.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #374

“doctor, doctor, won’t you please prescribe me something?  /  a day in the life of someone else...”

Does someone have a crush on you but you don’t feel the same way? No. Who do you feel most beautiful around? No one. What’s one makeup item you cannot live without? I could live without any makeup. What’s the most expensive thing you own? My snake, I think. Or my laptop, idr. Are you more of a book person or a TV person? Book. Relationship status? Single. What color are most of your clothes? Black. Did you french kiss before you were 16? No, I was 16. Last song you listened to? "The Heretic Anthem" by Slipknot. Would you ever go back to any of your past relationships? Yes. What’s your favorite thing about life? That's a big question. I guess seeing acts of mass love and kindness, reminders that we're all in this together through all hardships. Who pays for the first date? Whoever asked the other person out, imo. Who has always been there for you? My mom. Have you ever written on a wall? No, at least not to my memory. Do you play any computer games, if so, what ones? I think anyone who reads these by now knows, haha. I don't much play anything else. I prefer console games. What would you name a baby boy if you had one? Probably Damien or Victor. What would you name a baby girl if you had one? Alessandra, no questions asked. What lyric means the most to you? I mean there's tons, but the first one that came to mind is "for such a little thing, you sure are in your own way" from "Get Up" by Mother Mother. Like in the big picture, we humans are so so so minuscule, but with brains that are too complicated for our own good. It's my own head that creates so many obstacles for me. Who is the smartest person you know? Probably my friend Girt. Have your parents ever been to jail? No. Do you share a bed with anyone? My cat, haha. Does it flatter you when guys open doors for you? It's flattering if anyone does, not just guys. Do you enjoy taking naps? Yeah. That's like part of my daily routine. If your friend asked you to hold their drugs, would you? Nope. Is there anyone you try to be a good influence for? My nieces and nephew, but I don't feel like I am. I'm a poor example of an adult. Do you own a pair of fishnets? No, but I have a pair of fingerless fishnet gloves. Which do you prefer: french toast, bagels, pancakes, waffles, bacon or cereal? All are great, but french toast. Yes or no: eyebrow piercings? I'd actually have one if I didn't have glasses. I think I'd look weird with one as I look now. When I say "The Beatles," what is the first song that comes to mind? "Hey, Jude." In your opinion, what is the very worst type of weather? Extremely hot and humid. You can only listen to one band for the rest of your life, who do you pick? Ozzy Osbourne, of course. Can you snap with both of your hands? Yeah, but it's harder with my left. What is something that you had to learn the hard way? For some people, promises don't mean shit. If you could re-paint your bedroom, what color would you paint it? Maybe like a light peach. When was the last time you got butterflies? I think not since Sara told me I look really pretty in eyeliner. ;_; <3 When was the last time you felt like your heart was actually breaking? There was this one time I was listening to "The Ghost of You" by MCR a while after finding out about Jason's mom's death and I just like... broke. When’s the last time you were in a line? When I was getting my second COVID shot. Do you trust the media? HA! Fuck no. If you could kill off one species of animal, which would it be? At first I was appalled by this question, but like... do wasps serve a purpose? Of all fauna, they annoy me the most. I mean bees are already endangered enough, and they prey on them. They don't pollinate, so like... why are you here. I may be mistaken and they have a valuable role, in which case I take all this back. Who’d you last say I love you to? My mom. What’s the most overpaid job in your opinion? I have on idea. Most jobs are underpaid. What’s the last thing you wrote down? I was doing some paperwork at the TMS office on my first day there. When’s the last time you heard a gunshot? I don’t know. What are you looking forward to? Now that my tattoo (which looks fucking stunning, by the way) is out of the way, I can focus on other things. I'm particularly looking forward to hopefully seeing the results of TMS manifest (which should take 3-4 weeks). It sounds horrible, but I'm also keenly awaiting this dog we're stuck with to go somewhere... The person who gave her to my sister to give my mom won't take the dog back, and we can't find another option that doesn't risk her being euthanized, which we absolutely do not want. We just don't know what to do, but she's driving Mom and me INSANE. Do you listen to online radio stations? No. Have you ever done something sexual that you regret? No. Have you ever said anything to the last person you kissed that you regret? Multiple things. Have you ever ate so much you puked? Ugh, no. That sounds awful. Do you care about what others think of your physical appearance? Very much, sadly. Would you rather eat cookies or brownies? I gotta say brownies. Which YouTuber have you learned the most from? I mean, this depends on the subject. From Mark, I've learned most about life and how (I think) to be a good person, but there's a lot of pet channels I watch that have taught me loads about proper husbandry. This answer just depends on what knowledge you're talkin' about. Who would you want to be the flower girl at your wedding? Probably a niece. Do you want to be married within the next ten years? It'd be nice. Do you feel like your life is too fast-paced, or do you wish it were busier? Ugh, I wish it was busier. My days are a COMPLETE, routine drag. What are some hobbies which you want to pick up? I want to just be more artsy. I wanna draw and write more, and I'd love love love to be in healthy enough shape to handle going on walks with my camera. There are sometimes I miss editing videos, too. I'm unsure about completely new hobbies. Does anyone encourage you to go after your dreams? My family and a few friends. Oh, and definitely my psychiatrist. What group are you most active in on Facebook? None, really. I mostly just observe. Are you ashamed of anything? A number of things. Primarily not having a job at my age or even being in school. What were your favorite Disney rides as a kid? I loved Splash Mountain, I think it was called. What were your favorite rides at Cedar Point? Never been. What are some places you want to visit that you’ve never been? South Africa, Alaska, Canada, Yellowstone National Park, Bahamas, Venice, Rome... What are some places that you’ve been that you’d like to go to again? Disney World, Chicago, and this one super clear lake I swam in once a few hours away that I don't recall the name of. Have you ever owned a succulent? No. While they're pretty, I've never been much of a plant person. Do you support small businesses? I REALLY want to start doing that more when I have the option to buy my own stuff/have my own income. As someone who wants to be a freelance photographer, I get it. Starting an independent business is hard as hell. If a brand were to sponsor you, which brand(s) would you prefer? Uhhh I dunno. Have you read the entire Bible? No. Do you make bucket lists for each season? No. That does sound kinda fun, though. How old were you when you first dyed your hair? I have no idea. Do you dye your hair regularly? No. :/ I desperately want to, though. It's just not something we can afford to spare cash on. What is the most comfortable type of pants, in your opinion? Pajama pants? haha Do you think you could ever be famous? No. I'm way too boring and don't want to be anyway. What are some jobs you’ve had in the past? Sales associate, cashier, and deli worker. None lasted long whatsoever. What are some jobs you want to or would like to have? List five. FIVE? I don't know. I just know I want to be a photographer. Well, being an artist or poet would be very cool. And a reptile breeder, maybe tarantulas, too, but that makes me kinda nervous with JUST how many babies they have. What are some jobs you have considered? In rough order from youth to now: paleontologist, vet, movie director, game designer, author/poet, artist, music video editor, wildlife biologist, photographer... Maybe there's more that just aren't coming to me. Are you thankful for social media, or do you wish it didn’t exist? Depends on the day for me, but I'm generally thankful for it so I can keep up with the lives of people who are important to me. It's just that it's a breeding ground for self-doubt and rampant comparisons that can easily depress me when I see some people are "further ahead" and more "established" than me. What are some of the best medications you’ve ever had? The combined efforts of Latuda and Lamictal saved my life. What was a video you watched over and over as a kid? There were lots of movies, like The Lion King, a certain Barney one when I was very young, and I watched Finding Nemo like crazy. Do you know a lot of people who were loving, and then turned cold? Jason????????????????? Is that you??????????????????????????????????????????? Do you own anything plaid? Ha, what a coincidence, I'm wearing my red plaid pj pants. Are you good at remembering names? Definitely not. Have the cops ever gotten on to you for anything before? No. What email thingy do you use? (yahoo, gmail, rock) ... Rock? lol anyway my main is Hotmail, but I inevitably have a gmail to have a YouTube account. What game system(s) do you own? PS2, Wii, Nintendo DS Lite, and a GameBoy Advance. Are you any good at Guitar Hero? I used to be; I played most songs on Expert, then some really tough ones on Hard. I was soooooo addicted to those games. I remember when I got the first one for Christmas, I literally played it all day. Have you ever played Call of Duty? Nah, not my jam. What is your favorite/most visited website? YouTube. Is your bed comfortable? Sure. I've definitely had way worse. Do you have a garage? No. Fun fact, I've never lived in a house with one. Should you be doing anything right now? What? There's a number of things I could be doing that are definitely more productive, like finishing decorating my damn room. Do doctors or dentists make you more nervous? Not really. I only ever get nervous to hear my weight at the doctor's. Did you ever think you were about to die before? I don't quite know. When I ODed, it was more like I didn't care if I did. Have you ever really had a near death experience? Was it cool? "Was it cool." Literally fuck off. I guess you could technically consider my OD a "near death experience," especially given how many pills I took, yet I somehow experienced almost no ill symptoms. Maybe because we got to the ER for fluids quickly enough, idk. I'm just glad I didn't die. What is your favorite kind of weather? Snowy! Like a steady snowfall of large flakes with no breeze and total silence. *chef's kiss* Ever tasted beer? Ugh, no. Just the smell makes me sick. It was my dad's drink of choice when he was an alcoholic so I just have a very negative association with it. Have you ever seen a dead body? Yes, at an open-casket wake. Ever poured salt on a slug? As kids, my sisters and I would get our parents to do it because they grossed us out. So, so cruel. I still have this weird but pretty extreme phobia of them, but I wouldn't torture the things like that.

[twokinkybeans]

Pale Rose - Lion Whisperer AU Chapter 2 [Starker]

Chapter 2: Mister Six AM. Peter groans as he turns around in his bed to slap the alarm. The sun is already shining through the curtains and he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. Peter cracks his back and sighs, slowly raising his hand again to grab his phone. He unplugs it from the charger and frowns when he sees a wall of notifications. He puts in his code and opens his email first. He gasps when he reads his daily donation update. Their donation goal of 100k dollars was met. And kicked out of the park by another 560k. The number of separate donations has him lose his breath. How did so many people find this fundraiser? Peter opens the next email. YouTube contacted him to… Congratulate him? Peter’s eyes go wide when he sees the number in the email and he immediately switches apps to check his YouTube account. How many subscribers did he have yesterday? Around 700k? 

“Holy shit…” he mumbles. 1.8 million subscribers . Peter jolts to sit upright in his bed, his bare chest uncovered from the thin sheet as he scrolls through the countless new comments he has. He pants, not believing what is happening. He’s pretty sure he can’t even read all of them anymore at this point. On his most recent video, the most liked comment sparks his interest. Who else is here because of Tony Stark?

“Oh, no, he didn’t.” Peter switches apps again and opens his Instagram. He stares at another wall of notifications and opts to just turn them off for people who aren’t mutuals. He’s about to hit the search bar to find Tony Stark’s Instagram in the list of people he follows, but with his notification wall compressed to just mutuals, one shines through.

Tony Stark now follows you. They’re mutuals now. Peter immediately hits his account and stares at the latest post. It’s a candid of Peter with Adi and Nedda. Tony didn’t have a phone with him, though, or a camera. How could he have taken this picture? Peter’s breath is stuck in his throat as he scrolls down to the caption, almost afraid of what he might read. Meet Peter Parker. A bright sun, that rivals the one up in the sky, who also happens to work with cats. Big cats. Wakanda’s Sanctuary, almost 300k square feet of land, is the home of lions and other animals that are native to Africa. There, Peter takes care of the animals that are endangered because of human interference. Animals that can no longer be released into the wild; that were saved from horrible private zoos or who fell victim to poachers. I was blessed with both a terrible sunburn and a generous conversation with Peter, in which he told me about his goals to raise money in order to fight poaching and to raise awareness for climate change. I do encourage all of you to watch at least one of his videos, just to get to know him and his feline friends a little better and to give him that small bit of ad revenue to help him achieve his goals. The world would be a better place if we were all a little bit more like Peter Parker. Peter stares at his screen, his cheeks flushed red at the endless stream of compliments. Peter reads over the last line again and again and again and again. Tony’s post got him this increase in subscribers. Tony’s post got him all of those donations. This was all because of Tony. Peter tears his eyes away from the phone to look at the small card on his bedside table. Matte black. No name. Just a phone number. Tony’s phone number. Maybe doing a collab with the billionaire philanthropist isn’t such a bad idea after all... - Peter assesses himself in the mirror. He’s never been this nervous for a video before. Or, ever at all, really. Tony Stark immediately agreed to being present for the move. Even on the phone, the man had been incredibly charming. Peter ruffles his hair in an attempt to make it look good, while sucking at his teeth. He swears quietly, knowing spending time with the lions will mess his do up again anyways. Peter opts to not think too much about it and covers himself head to toe in sunscreen, as he does every morning. He takes one last glance in the mirror before grabbing his baseball cap and putting on his walking shoes. When Peter opens the front door of his apartment at The Sanctuary he gulps and immediately walks back in to throw the door shut with a loud bang. Tony was already there. Right outside his small, messy room. Peter saw him well enough to have the image of Tony’s outfit stuck in front of his eyes. Camo shorts, brown walking shoes and a green shirt. His brown tinted pilot sunglasses hide his eyes mysteriously and fuck. He looks hot. Peter takes a deep breath in through his nose and closes his eyes, trying to calm his nerves. “Here we go…” he whispers to nobody but himself and when he opens the door again, he yelps, refraining from throwing it shut straight away again. Tony’s right in front of him, hand raised to knock on Peter’s door. The older man cocks his head and smiles. “Morning, Rose,” Tony quips. Peter swallows his breath and chokes when he hears the nickname. “You rushed back in, so I figured I’d come say hi.” “Yeah!” Peter exclaims, laughing sheepishly. “I- eh… I saw you didn’t bring a cap. I was gonna grab you one.” He presses his lips together in a smile. Yes. Good excuse. “A… cap?” “Yeah, a cap.” Peter doesn’t know what to say next and awkwardly stares at Tony’s features. “Should I have brought a cap, then?” Peter jolts when Tony speaks again and he points at his own head. “You get sunburnt at the top of your head quickly out there and I’m guessing you don’t want to put sunscreen on your scalp, so…” Peter swiftly takes off his own hat and pushes it onto Tony’s head. The man is startled by the gesture, but doesn’t protest. Peter stares at the man wide-eyed when he realizes what he just did. “-Ah,” he stutters. “Sorry about that, I should’ve asked, shit-” “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Tony laughs. “I get it, okay? When we first met I was just the random dude you see in the news occasionally and now I completely flipped your life with one post you didn’t want me to make.” Peter stands frozen in place, staring at Tony and pretends that that is exactly the reason why he’s so flustered. “I’m sorry for not asking permission. That’s on me. But- please- don’t feel like you have to do anything for me, okay? You don’t get the title of philanthropist by asking for things in return.” Peter takes a step back and looks at his feet with a frown. Tony clears his throat. “So, what are you gonna use for your head?” Peter looks up so he can stare at Tony again. Tony gestures towards Peter’s hair by nodding. “You just pressed your cap on me. Thank you for letting me borrow it, by the way, but don’t you need the protection as well?” “Right!” Peter exclaims, turning to fall on his knees and crawl under the bed to get a small box. He takes out an old, slightly more worn cap and waves it in front of his own face. “That’ll do.” - “Good morning everybody,” Peter smiles at the GoPro in his hand. “It is currently 7am, we got a busy day ahead of us: we’re going to be switching enclosures for two prides and if that goes smoothly, we’ll hopefully be taking Adi, Nedda and Beru for a walk this afternoon.” Peter looks down at his feet for a second and then back up into the lens with a wide grin. “Now, you must be wondering why I say ‘we’ for the walk, as that’s a thing I do without the volunteers of The Sanctuary, but I actually have a very special guest with me today!” Peter turns around quickly, whipping the camera with him until Tony enters the shot behind him. The man smirks and cocks an eyebrow. “Hello, there.” Peter feels Tony’s hot breath in his neck and has to stay focussed on the camera so as to not to lose his composure. A lot of people are gonna watch this video, simply because Tony Stark is in it, so he has to sell this right. For the lions. At least, that’s what Peter tells himself. “Tony Stark!” “Me!” Tony raises his hands above his head and they both pull a face, resulting in the both of them bursting out with laughter. “So,” Peter says, angling his camera correctly again. “A lot of you peeps have been asking me to make a video from the perspective of someone visiting The Sanctuary as opposed to just me with the GoPro attached to my arm, so I figured I could take this opportunity to see how well you handle a camera, Mr. Stark.” Peter presents the GoPro to Tony who looks at Peter’s fingers for a second. He really doesn’t like to be handed things, but every molecule inside his body is screaming at him to touch the boy, so he does something he rarely allows. With a grin, he takes the camera out of Peter’s hands, lingering a little longer than necessary and turns it until he’s no longer in shot. Instead, Peter’s all the viewer is able to see now. “Hey!” Peter exclaims. “You’re in this vid too!” “Yes, but you are infinitely more interesting to look at.”  Peter scratches the back of his head and looks down, trying to hide his blush behind the worn cap. Tony clears his throat. “You doing your work, kid.” Saved it , Tony hopes. “Don’t think anybody goes to the Sanctuary Channel to watch my face.” “Well-” Peter exclaims, standing upright again with his lips pressed on top of each other. “I was also thinking that this video will be the one most people get introduced to my channel with because- well… You’re in it.” Peter nods, holding his chin with his thumb and index finger. “So, yeah, you can ask me anything that comes to mind. Doesn’t matter if I’ve touched on it before in other vids.” “Well, then, Mr. Parker-” “Peter,” the young man interrupts him. “Feel so old when people call me that.” “Sheesh, kid, you’re what, 22? Just a few days ago you were talking to me about retirement- we’re in the 21st century, people live ‘til 85 at least.” Peter laughs and boy, does Tony love making him laugh. “For the record,” Peter chuckles. “I’m 23. So that’s way older than 22.” Tony snorts. “And my workfield isn’t exactly without danger, Mr. Stark.” “Ha!” Tony exclaims. “Way to make me feel old, kid.” “But-” “If I’m not allowed to call you mister than you’re not calling me that either. Tony, kid. Call me Tony.” Peter hides his face behind his hands. “I’m gonna have to spend a whole day editing this vid, don’t I?” “Probably.” - “Alright!” Peter says excitedly as he hops into the truck. He slowly drives over the Sanctuary grounds.  “Your timing is actually quite ironic, since we’re moving the Avengers today.” “The- oh?” Tony pretends he wasn’t already aware of this. He’s seen the videos of this particular pride. He knows what’s coming. He puts the camera diagonally and Peter chuckles, trying to steer with one hand while flailing slightly with his other to make Tony hold the camera straight again. “A group of four males. Banner, Thor, Rogers and-” Peter cocks one eyebrow with a smirk. “Stark.” “You named a lion after me?” Tony feigns his surprise with a wide smile and Peter scoffs a laugh. “These boys joined The Sanctuary as cubs about four years ago. Were all part of a circus.” Tony snorts and has to stop himself from losing his composure. “That’s not far off from the real thing,” he jokes. Peter presses his lips on top of each other in a grin. “Trust me, Mr- Tony.” Peter gently hits the brake and they slow down. “It’s quite scary.” “Says the kid who works with lions for a living.” “And hyenas,” Peter adds quickly. “And leopards.” “No black panthers?” “That’s the leopards,” Peter chuckles. “Leopards that are melanistic are commonly known as black panthers. But they’re still leopards, really.” Peter shrugs nonchalantly. Tony sniffs once. He’s getting schooled by a boy less than half his age. But he enjoys it. Somehow. Most of the volunteers were already waiting for Peter at the enclosure. There’s a large truck with a cage on top and a lot more commotion than Tony expected. “If you told me there’d be this many people I’d have prepped a speech,” Tony quips. Peter sighs dramatically and gets out of the truck. Tony follows swiftly and stares at how Peter speaks Xhosa with the other volunteers. It looks funny, almost, seeing a white boy speak the language so easily- fluently. After a minute, Tony grows bored, so he turns the camera to face him and pulls a few funny faces at it. When he realizes this video is going to be seen by a lot of people, he brings the GoPro closer to his face and whispers. “That was for your eyes only, Mr. Parker,” he grins.  “Tony?” The older man looks up from the lens when Peter calls out for him and subconsciously, Tony smiles wide at the mention of his name. “You ready for the good part?” Peter shuffles past a few of the volunteers towards the gate and Tony makes his way over to fencing. “Oh, I am very curious, kid.”  It’s not long before Peter’s by himself in the enclosure, the gate closed behind him. He casually strolls around, calling out the names of each pride member. Tony can’t help himself and inches closer to the fence.  “So, these lions are four years old?” “Nearing five, yeah. They were only a couple months old when we found them. Sure made a wreck of my house when I raised them,” Peter laughs. “Pro-tip-” He raises one hand and only now Tony notices Peter’s holding a small chunk of meat in it. “-if you ever raise lion cubs; two at the same time tops. Not three. Never four. Four will make you so sleep deprived you think you have five cubs on your bed.” The boy chuckles at his own comment. “That was an interesting night…” Tony shakes his head with a wide grin. “I can imagine.” Peter suddenly cocks his head- listening. He turns and spots the first lion slowly making his way towards him. “M- Tony,” Peter says, looking back at the billionaire for a second. “Meet Rogers.” “Already have,” Tony groans, which makes Peter laugh. His focus immediately shifts to the lion and he squats, preparing himself for the imminent cuddles. He tosses the meat from his hand directly into the lion’s mouth. “Rogers is the most fragile of the pride. He was severely malnourished when he came here and though he bounced back, the joints in his back legs are not great. M’gonna have to help him get into the truck.” Tony listens carefully. Peter’s voice is sweet and soft. The white lion huffs friendly and presses himself against Peter, who pushes back against him with his head. When Peter opens his eyes, he nods at another lion approaching in the distance. “That’s Banner. He’s curious, but incredibly shy. Also the smallest of this pride. If none of you were here he’d come say hi, but the volunteers make him nervous, so he’ll probably keep an eye on us from over there.” Peter nods in the general direction of where the lion is and Tony turns the camera to get a shot of Banner. Not much later, a gigantic white lion approaches. He holds his head high and has a big mane. When he gets closer, Rogers immediately pulls back and lays down next to Peter. The big white lion claims Peter’s space and attention and the boy laughs as he pets him. “Thor’s the biggest- OOF!” The lion drops his weight on top of Peter, whose smile doesn’t falter. “Also the heaviest,” he adds. The lion huffs once, almost as if he’s protesting against Peter’s comments. “And the loudest.” Peter scratches Thor under his chin and the lion automatically opens his mouth right next to Peter’s face. His head could fit in there twice. At least. And the teeth are absolutely gigantic. The sight has shivers run down Tony’s spine. This is normal . This is Peter’s life. He knows what he’s doing, the boy does this every day. Tony bites the inside of his cheek. Lions. These animals are lions . Yet they act like house cats around him. Thor gets up again and without any incentive, he jumps into the truck. “He knows what’s up,” Tony laughs as he turns to the truck to take a shot of Thor from close by. He’s startled by a low rumble coming from Thor’s throat. “Is that purring?” he asks nervously. Peter stands up again, patting some dirt from the back of his shorts. “Lions don’t purr, that’s a growl. You better take a step back Mr- Tony.” Tony would make an offhand comment on how even though Peter corrects himself, he still ends up calling him mister, if not for the lion’s growls increasing in volume. He takes a hasty step back and Peter tosses another chunk of meat into the truck for Thor to eat. “The only big cats that purr are cheetahs and cougars.” “Now, that’s a fun fact. Good to know,” Tony says sheepishly, trying to hide his nerves.  Tony frowns when Peter gets onto his knees in front of the truck.  “What are you doing?” “Helping Rogers.” “You’re gonna let that gigantic beast step on you?” “Better than lifting him,” Peter quips back. He turns his head and whistles. “Rogie- Rogie, boy, come on!” Peter’s voice is high as he coos at the lion. Tony presses his lips on top of each other to stifle a laugh. Rogie, boy. He should remember that one for the real Steve. Rogers responds like a trained dog, but skips Peter completely by putting his front legs against the truck. He hops, but can’t actually get in. “Buddy, your balls are in my face, could you please get up?” Peter pats Rogers’ thigh before quickly placing his hand down again to brace himself. With great difficulty, the lion places one foot on Peter’s shoulder, not pressing his full weight down on the boy. It was enough of a step to help him get in, though. Peter stands up straight again with a triumphant look on his face. He tosses another chunk of meat into the truck and Steve takes it gladly. Thor had already laid down again, not too bothered anymore. Peter cocks his head at Banner, who’s still a bit away, but has decided to come a little closer when he noticed Thor and Steve entering the truck. Peter smiles kindly and squats, presenting a chunk of meat to the shy lion. Tony is absolutely enthralled by Peter’s control. The boy seems relaxed but if you look closely you can see how in tune he is with everything. How he keeps an eye on his surroundings. Banner creeps closer and when he’s next to Peter, it’s obvious how small he actually is. His mane is also way shorter than that of the other two. Tony stares wide-eyed at how Peter handfeeds Bruce the piece of meat. Handfeeds . “Not scared you’re gonna lose a hand?” “Nah,” Peter replies quietly. “Occupational hazard. And I trust my lions more than I trust humans, to be fair.” “Ouch,” Tony says to make light of the situation, trying to hide how that comment actually kind of stung. Peter chuckles, combing Banner’s short mane with his fingers. “We met three days ago, m- Tony.” “Does it really take you that much effort not to call me mister?” Tony laughs, hoping to steer the conversation in another direction. “I was raised with manners.” He grins at Tony and tosses the next piece of meat into the truck. Banner doesn’t hesitate anymore and jumps into the truck as well. “It physically hurts me not to call you mister.” “Sure, kid.” Tony zooms in on Peter’s face. “Well then, if I get to call you Parker you have permission to call me Mr. Stark.” “Deal!” Peter exclaims immediately. The boy’s smile is so bright Tony is pretty sure he’d be blinded by it if he wasn’t wearing his sunglasses. After another minute, the lions in the truck are getting a little restless. Peter sighs audibly and turns to face the enclosure. “You can guess who’s fashionably late.” Peter glances at Tony behind him. “As per usual.” “Time management is not my strong suit! And I was early this morning,” Tony laughs. Peter places his hands on his hips, guiding Tony’s eyes to look at the boy’s pert butt. He quickly looks back up at the back of Peter’s head. Now’s not the time for filthy thoughts… Maybe later. “Staaark!” Peter belts. “Here, boy!” Peter makes a couple of those funny noises he made when Tony first met him. “Why do you do all that? Those… Uwus?” “Wha- the noises?” Peter snorts. “Can’t believe Tony Stark just said uwu.” “Hey-” the older man protests. “You said it first! And I am hip with the youngsters.” “You know what? I suddenly don’t feel so old anymore,” Peter says with a grin.  “You, Parker, are a meanie.” Tony points accusingly and Peter laughs. “Ouchies, that huwt my feewings.”  “Just explain the noise, please-” Tony lets out an overdramatic exasperated sigh, indicating to Peter that he’s not actually annoyed. Entertained, would be the right word. Peter nods with a smile and turns back to face the enclosure so he can make the sound once more. “The huffing is actually me mimicking the sound of a mama-lion,” Peter laughs. “It’s comforting to them.” “See, you could’ve just said that straight away.” Peter shrugs nonchalantly, but before he can reply with another quick-witted comment, they all spot the dark mane emerging from the bushes. Stark really does take his time, slowly placing each paw in front of the other, as if he’s on a catwalk. Tony chuckles at his own thought. Catwalk . Stark stares at Peter as he crosses the distance between them and Peter preps himself by sitting down already. “Stark’s the most affectionate of the four,” Peter says as the lion presses into him. The force with which Stark rubs his face against Peter’s has the boy laugh and push back. “Next to Adi and Nedda, he probably likes me the most out of all the lions here.” He pats Stark’s back. “He’s also the most handsome of all the male lions in The Sanctuary. Hands down.” “Isn’t that subjective?” Tony asks quickly, pretending the indirect praise isn’t making him tingle. Peter shrugs before he buries his face in the dark mane for a second. “For lion standards, this is a pretty boy. Stark’s also the most sexually engaged.” Tony freezes up at how casually Peter talks about this. He wonders if Peter is actually indirectly talking about him. Not about the lion he’s petting. “That is, if we would breed here.” “You don’t?” “I don’t breed captive lions. The ones that we have in The Sanctuary are saved from situations that make them unable to be released back into the wild again. We spay every female to prevent them from reproducing.” “Why not the males?” “Spaying both is a lot of hassle for something that’s not necessary. If we were to neuter the males they would still be affected by the females’ cycles. That’s why we spay the females, who are unaffected by the males." “Ah, that makes sense.” Peter studies the near-black mane on Stark. “Should probably take these boys out for a walk tomorrow. Lower their testosterone a bit.” Peter looks up at Tony and gestures at Stark’s head of hair. “There were a couple of wild lionesses right outside The Sanctuary about a week ago. Stark must’ve picked up on them and their cycle ‘cause he’s a little sexually frustrated right now. As is evident by the dark colour of his mane.” Tony licks his lips. This isn’t happening. This isn’t actually happening. He shifts where he stands, hoping his shorts hide his own growing sexual frustration. Peter smiles wide and gets Stark’s attention by presenting a chunk of meat in front of the lion’s face. He tosses it into the truck and before the others in there can get to it, Stark has jumped in. Peter carefully closes the cage on top of the truck and nods at Tony, who still hasn’t said anything in an attempt to hide how flustered he is right now. “Let’s go!”

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More: Next Chapter (yet to be posted) Masterpost (yet to be made)

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Taglist: @professional-benaddict​ @tonystarkweneedyou​

[thefanficmonster]

Better For You

Jonathan Finn (Hidden Agenda) x Reader (Male)

Warnings: Swearing, Mention of Murders, Mentions of Death Row

Genre: Fluff

Summary: What can you do when the love of your life is behind bars, counting their days alive until inevitable demise? Y/N can answer that question - their lover has been awaiting death row for five years. Though their days together are numbered, they don’t let that cloud of melancholy bother them when in the company of one another because in those moments their love is all that matters and all that exists. They have nothing to fear as long as they keep their eyes on each other.

Requested by @dark-pictures-until-dawn Hello dear! I’m so happy to finally be getting to your request - hits close to home cause I too may be a little in love with Finn. Sorry it has taken me so long to fulfill your request, I hope the read makes the wait worth it! Enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

“And here I was wondering who today’s visitor may be.“ Jonathan Finn smiles at the sight of his lover being let into the room for visits. Another man awaiting his own death wouldn’t be able to smile like that. No one would be able to. How he’s able to manage it? It’s got something to do with the face he’s been seeing every week for the past five years. The face of the person he fell in love with before ending up in jail. The person he promised he’d become better for.

And then Adam had to fuck everything up for him. He promised him it’d be the last time they would be pulling a stunt like that. He promised it was their ‘last hurrah’. Finn had tried to refuse and kept doing so, he had made a vow to set himself straight - no drugs, no alcohol, no faked fucked-up kidnappings and murders. All for Y/N. He was prepared to become a better man of the person he loved. 

Leave it to Adam to fuck up his life.

He’ll never forget Y/N’s face when he visited him for the first time five years ago. How the two of them sat in absolute dreadful silence after he explained to him what was going on. He had been trying to hide the fiasco he was a part of for the longest time. So many things had piled up and having to lay them on Y/N so suddenly brought them both inexplicable pain. To Finn for admitting his untruthfulness and to Y/N for obvious reasons. He barely said a word to Finn that day, he couldn’t bear to look at him either, he had kept his eyes on the table that separated them. He could swear he saw tears falling from his eyes, tears that felt like bullets fired directly at his heart. Tears he was the reason behind and he wished he could wipe off Y/N’s face. Wished he could just wrap his arms around him and not let go, shield him from the cruelty of the world he himself was a victim of.

“Don’t push your luck, Finn. I’m your only company, don’t get choosy.“ Y/N says, settling in the chair that’s basically become his at this point.

“Even if I had other options I’d still choose you, darling.“ They sneak a quick squeeze of each other’s hands while the guard isn’t looking but pull away almost immediately.

“Uh-huh, sure you would.“ Y/N shakes his head, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend. However, just beyond the façade of nonchalance, lies a painful sense of fear, dreading the inevitable. It’s been five years in the coming and the pain has only been growing stronger and stronger with each passing day, flaring up worse whenever he went to see Finn. Despite the unpleasant feeling it caused him, he never missed a week. He never left him alone on the Fridays he was allowed to visit him. Hell, he’s been in and out of the jail so much he knows the guards and staff. Sometimes, if the pair’s lucky, a more trusting guard would be observing the visit and would allow for Finn to be uncuffed during it. The guards could know one thing for certain - he would never hurt Y/N. In fact, he’d commit the first murder of his life if someone dared hurt him.

He says he’s no murderer, and he’s not, he’s just a lover. A lover who becomes a ruthless fighter when someone dares hurt the person he loves - the only person that matters to him and the only soul that has ever connected with his. Y/N loves him and he loves him - that sort of connection is way more than he ever thought he’d get in life. He’s ashamed to admit but he half-expected Y/N to leave him after he revealed his past to him. All the shit that he saw and went through back at Las Palmas. He never spoke of the Trapper, as mentioned. That was something he wanted Y/N to stay away from by lightyears. 

“How have you not grown tired of this?“ Finn asks, his question shifting the conversation to a more serious tone.

Y/N laughs a little, desperate to stray away from the serious, deprecating side of the story. He has always forced himself to focus on Finn when he’s there. On the fact that they’re together. Focus on the silver lining instead of the shadows of the cell they’ve been meeting in every week for the past two years. He has been trying to convince himself that what matters is who he’s with, not where the two of them are. 

And certainly not what’s ahead of them, what the future holds for them

“Are you serious? It’s the highlight of my week.” Y/N says, his voice full of fake cheerfulness. He’s good a performer, he can put on an act no one would question the authenticity of. A person who knows him less would’ve fallen for it, but Finn would never.

His eyes bore into the ones of his partner, locking them in place with a gaze of intense sincerity, preventing them from wandering elsewhere like they always do when under pressure or to avoid speaking the truth. “Seriously, Y/N.” 

Y/N’s arms cross over his chest almost defensively as he stops to think for a moment, formulating his answer the best he can, “It’s not like I can ever grow tired of seeing you, Johnny. Hell, if you weren’t behind bars we’d be seeing each other every day. Who knows, maybe we would even be living together.” Y/N shrugs his shoulders, “I mean, I have this dumb thing where I...every time I’m on my way here I feel like fate will maybe turn around and you’ll be set free. Like, I’d walk in and they’d say ‘Congrats Y/N, your boyfriend is coming home’, you know? I guess hope really does die last.” He waves his hand dismissively, finally managing to break his eyes free from the spell Finn cast on them, taking the opportunity to look around the cell he’s seen hundreds of times. “I know it’s silly, but I still hope that you’ll change your mind and speak your truth. I’m still not quite sure why you refuse to do it, but I have faith you know what you’re doing. If you trust this Adam so much, there’s nothing for me to do.” A small sad smile graces his features as he accepts the same defeat for God knows what time in a row.

This isn’t the first time they’re having a conversation like this. It’s always the same point phrased slightly differently from the time before. Y/N gently nudging the subject of him speaking out about what’s really been going on but also not letting Finn say a word. He has tried to hard, pushed and pulled, convinced and begged, he’s done all he could just to get Finn to confess, rat the son of a bitch out. Even if the cops don’t believe him, Y/N would still have the closure that he gave it a shot. And Finn always refused cautiously, each time explaining what a complex situation this was and that he couldn’t pull a stunt like that out of the blue, seeing as how it would endanger Y/N as well. He knew Finn would rather kill or be killed than to have harm even come close to his lover.

However, oddly enough, today Y/N’s words struck a different nerve. A nerve that sent a surge of a feeling he’s never felt before - possibility. 

He’s been making plans, daydreaming about his life once he’d be broken out of jail. How he’d become a better person, this time fully, not only by leaving his addictions behind. Him and Y/N are two halves of a whole, they complete one another. Though he’s always seen himself as the lesser half - while Y/N gave his all, he felt like he put in the effort his old habits kept him from putting in himself. He felt like he weighed his partner down more than completed him. 

He deserves a half as good as he is, He’d always think to himself. Yet he’s selfish - despite the deprecating thoughts, the evil whispers telling him how far from enough he was for Y/N, he was selfish and didn’t want to let him go. He loved him too much to even find the idea a possibility. Not that Y/N would allow it either. He’d give him a good pep-talk if he ever dared brought it up, that he knew.

He has suddenly grown tired of planning in vain. He’s tired of making plans which he’ll probably never get to turn into a reality. His stomach is engulfed by a sickening feeling at the thought that he let himself trust an unreliable bastard such as Adam for so long. Five years spent in silence, holding onto blind trust like a drowning man hangs onto a twig.

Enough is enough - and five years are more than enough.

But he doesn’t say anything, not to Y/N. He waits for him to leave before executing his plan. He watches as he goes, turns to give him one final wave before disappearing down the dim hallways of the jail. Finn makes a silent promise as he leaves.

‘You won’t be seeing me here again, Y/N. I’ll do all I can so you don’t have to.‘

Finn wastes no time requesting to get in touch with his lawyer - he’s wasted too much time. So many hours, days, weeks, months, years he could’ve spent with Y/N but was locked away from him. So many moments left unexperienced because he made wrong call after wrong call. He’s had enough of his own mistakes, he’s now taking steps toward making those plans of his a realization, starting by getting himself off death row, out of jail and in the loving embrace of Y/N.

“Easy there, Johnny.“ He hears his voice at the back of his head, softly speaking that phrase he always used to tell him, “One step at a time. Running is not how you wanna go through life.“

He won’t be running but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t pick up the pace - he has to make up for all the time he spent standing still.

                                                            *  *  *

“How does it feel to be a free man again, Johnny?“ Becky Marney, the main reason for his freedom greets him in the lobby of the police station, a pleasant smile on her face as she stands side by side with Felicity, another no minor reason for him being where he currently is - uncuffed and changed into a normal day-to-day attire standing without the firm grips of the guards on his upper arms.

“Like I’m breathing with full lung capacity.“ A heartfelt smile lights up his features, “How does it feel being a national hero?“

Becky laughs, “Couldn’t have done it without you. I’m happy I could contribute in the restart of your life, Finn. I’ll miss seeing Y/N though.”

Y/N and Becky did end up sparking a friendship in the long years he was in and out of the prison halls. Thankfully, the detective was rather keen on keeping the operation to prove Finn’s innocence out of his partner’s earshot. He wanted to surprise Y/N.

“I wouldn’t worry. He is not the type of person who easily lets go of people. We’ll probably stay in touch, Marney.“ He gives the detective a quick hug - a gesture so out of character for him, he’s even surprised with himself. Newfound freedom can really change a person drastically. And he’s willing to take any and all opportunities to make up for the time he lost.

“Take care of yourself, Johnny. And of Y/N, though I think it’ll be the other way around.“ She chuckles, giving him a pat on the shoulder as they pull away.

“I will, a free man’s word.“

And a free man he’s become with the very first step he takes out of the station and into the world he hasn’t been a part of for what feels like centuries. He’s already crossed off one plan of his long list and with each step he takes closer to the destination he has in mind he’s slowly crossing off the second one as well.

Never did he think he’d be capable of feeling something like that cheesy feeling described as stomach butterflies but here he is, his stomach turning, his heart pounding, his hands fidgeting. The journey to where he’s headed is simultaneously the longest and quickest of his life - an endless short road to a new beginning. The official beginning. The prologue was leaving the station, chapter one starts as soon as the apartment door with the number 12 on it opens.

And when it does, two shiny orbs shimmer at him in astonishment and disbelief. Mouth slightly agape, face a little pale, Y/N stands in front of him, mesmerizing as ever. He is absolutely stunned and frozen, overtaken by the same feeling he felt when Becky came to his cell to tell him he would soon be walking out of his cell, a new man. 

The feeling of happiness so overwhelming it seems unreal. Too good to be true. Capable of slipping from your grip at any moment.

“Do you have a moment to talk about our Lord and Savior?“ Finn has the audacity to smirk, leaning slightly against the doorframe as he awaits Y/N’s reaction.

It comes a few seconds later in the form of a warm hug. A ‘welcome home’ hug. A ‘welcome back, I’ve missed you’ hug. An ‘I love you’ hug. A hug that speaks volumes of the connection between them. The connection that wasn’t broken even by five years of metal bars and stone walls between them, his death weighing heavy like a constant shadow above them.

“Oh Johnny, I can’t believe this.“ Y/N sniffles, he can tell he’s on the brink of tears, “I’m not dreaming, am I?“

Finn pulls away, leaving his hands gently on his shoulders, his forehead touching his, “You’re not, Y/N. From now on we won’t be dreaming of a future together, we’ll be making it.”

Y/N gives him a bright smile through his tears, the sun shining its rays at him through the clouds that have been haunting him all his life. He may not deserve him and he might deserve better, but hell if he doesn’t give him his all.

I’ll do better. I’ll be better for you, Y/N

That’s Jonathan Finn’s purpose - doing right by himself so he can do right by his loved one. Fate has been cruel to them both, but they have a whole life ahead.

Basically unlimited, He thinks to himself. 

An unlimited forever up ahead just for the two of them.

[rorynne]

Pipsqueak

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader

Summary: As the shortest avenger, you dont let anyone give you shit about your height, until Bucky comes along.

Warnings: Death mentioned, angst with a happy ending, mild/vague violence, terrible nicknames, Bucky being a little shit

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: Requested by @me-mah-hah with the prompts: 4. “I wouldn’t wanna fight you. You’re pretty feisty.” and 27. “It’s not my fault you’re short.”

Life wasn't easy as the shortest avenger, but you managed. At just under five feet even Natasha towered over you, but you were damned if you were gonna let anyone give you a hard time over it. You quickly made a name for yourself as being one of the toughest avengers even despite your size.  You didn't need help from anyone. Not even Sam was willing to make any kind of jabs at your height, not after you set his hat on fire with a snap of your fingers. Life isn't easy being short on the Avengers, but it wasn't too bad.

That is, until a certain best friend of Steve’s came back from Wakanda. Apparently, Bucky didn't get the memo on not to mess with you about your height, because that was literally all he did from day one. He took a great deal of joy out of it actually. Putting his arm on your head, physically picking you up to move you out of the way, and the nicknames. Oh god, the nicknames. Pipsqueak was his favorite, but he was known to pepper in a Shortcake or a Half Pint when the mood struck him. Nothing would deter him either, you had tried everything short of literally setting him on fire. And god damn as much as you wanted to, you weren't a monster, you weren't going to endanger one of your teammates because he was a dick.

But god had you grown to hate Bucky. You hated how smug he was when he knew he got under your skin. You hated how he would laugh and his smile would crinkle his eyes. You hated how his blue eyes seemed to shine as he teased you. You definitely hated how he would bite his lip after a laughing fit. And most of all you hated the way your stomach felt when ever he so much as looked at you.

So you were definitely not happy when you were assigned on a mission with him to break into a HYDRA base hidden in Cairo. You tried to convince Steve to send someone else - anyone else, but he wouldn't budge, saying something about needing to work as a team. Which left you stuck, in the middle of Egypt, with a man who didn't know how to quit when he was ahead. 

“I’ve got the files, how are things going on your side, Pipsqueak.” Bucky asked over the comms and you suppressed a growl as you felt flames lap at your fingertips.

“Do you want to fucking fight Barnes? Stop calling me pipsqueak.” You threatened, which only elicited a laugh from your teammate.

“I wouldn't wanna fight you. You're pretty feisty Pipsqueak.” He teased and you could hear his damn smirk in his voice. 

You growled as you placed an explosive onto a support beam, “You really want to test me today don’t you.”

“It's not my fault your short, Shortcake.” He said, “‘sides, it makes you cute.”

Before you could shoot back an answer, a deafening alarm sounded, and footsteps could be heard running down the hall. Thinking fast, you slipped into a supply closet before a swarm of HYDRA guards ran passed. You swore, quietly, before hissing into the comms, “What the hell Barnes, we were supposed to almost be done.”

“Don't blame me, I didn't do it” He said as sounds of gun fire and fighting could be heard from his comms. “Where the hell are you? We need to get out of here!” 

You peaked your head out of the closet, checking both ways down the hall. “Don't worry about me right now, worry about yourself.” You shot back, running down the hall. “I still have one more bomb I need to plant. Get the hell out of here, I’ll meet you at the extraction point.” You were going to make sure that this base was reduced to a pile of rubble if it killed you. That was the whole reason you were on the Avengers in the first place, your proficiency in fire and explosives.

“You have to be kidding me right now Y/N!” Bucky barked. “I'm not leaving this building without you, I'll drag you out of here myself if i have to.”

The use of your name caught you off guard. He never called you your name, in fact, you could probably count the number of times he has on one hand. “I’m serious Buck. Go. I promise you i'm going to be out right behind you. Give me the all clear when your out.” You heard a sigh as you placed the final explosive.

“Fine, But i'm holding you to that promise.” He conceded, “I'll be out in two minutes.” You nodded to yourself, there was no way you were catching up with him in two minutes, this place was huge. You ran down the halls, avoiding the guards you could, and roasting the ones you couldn't until you heard his voice again. “Alright Pipsqueak, I’m out, where are you?” You rolled your eyes before taking a deep breath, and snapping your fingers.

Bucky's jaw dropped when the HYDRA facility exploded. You said you were going to be right out, not take down the building the moment he set foot out of it. “Y/N?! Y/N!” He yelled over the comms to only hear static in response. He felt bile rise to his throat as he fought the urge to be sick. Stunned, he dropped to is knees, unsure of what to do. There was no way someone could have survived that, he could feel the heat from the raging fire on his face and he was a good distance away.

He couldn't believe it. The small fiery person who he had come to care for so dearly was dead. You had to be. His heart shattered as a portion of the building caved in on itself. Anger filled him, anger at the world, at HYDRA, at himself. All he ever did was frustrate and tease you, make you angry because he just found it so damn cute. But now he found himself hating himself for it. He would have given anything to just see you alive.

His heart stopped as he saw the small figure stumble out of the flames, covered in ash and soot but completely unburnt. You held your wrist gingerly, the force of the blast had throw you into a wall and you were at least 90% sure that it broke your wrist. Bucky couldn't believe his eyes as you walked towards him. Without even realizing it, he pulled himself to his feet and ran towards you, pulling you into a crushing hug. You hissed in pain as he inadvertently squeezed your throbbing wrist, causing him to pull back slightly.

He looked down at you, tears in his eyes, unsure of what to even begin to say. “I thought you were dead Pipsqueak.”

You scolded, “Stop calling me pip-” He cut you off, crashing his lips down onto yours. You froze for several beats before finally easing into the kiss. Your heart hammering through your chest, aching wrist forgotten. 

You were breathless when he pulled away, looking up at him wide eyed. “Don't ever scare me like that again Half Pint.” he said, cupping your face with his hand. “I thought you died in that blast.”

You swallowed, trying to still your heart. “You know I can't be burned, right Buck?”

Bucky close his eyes and shook his head slightly, smiling, before kissing you once more. You could get used to the sensation of his lips on yours. He chuckled softly, “You really are feisty aren't you?”

[dedicatedfollower467]

DIRK’S PESTERQUEST ROUTE REACTIONS AS THEY HAPPEN

spoilers etc. yada yada yada i’ve been waiting for this for fucking EVER.

this is fucking massive, for the record.

“The one and only” lmao suuuuuuure whatever you say dirk.

i fucking adore his metal scuba suit though holy SHIT

“[talking in meatspace] isn’t exactly my forte” akdfsljkadsfhksadf you bet your ASS it isn’t mr. strider. (at this point i’m assuming this is actually hal, wouldn’t be the first time that we met “dirk” and it turned out to be hal)

the power of his own “voice” is almost too much for him MY CHILD.

OH HELLO HAL. GOOD TO SEE YOU USING YOUR USUAL RED. LOVE THE THEME MUSIC CHANGE TOO. IT’S GOOD MUSIC.

i fucking KNEW it i fucking knew that was hal lmao

so in that case HI DIRK HELLO MY ASSHOLE BABY CHILD.

“The use of the speaker system is new, but it makes sense he’d up his game for interfering with relationships I’m busy forging in 3D. I guess I should go ahead and be proud of him for it.” god i really wish dirk and hal could get along but they both hate themselves and therefore each other way too much for that...

“Every line of muscle in his body is held in excruciating placidity. You’ve never seen a jaw so purposefully unclenched” dIRK!!!!

“you’ll prove it to him with your deeds. it seems like that might be his love language” BOY FUCKING HOWDY IS IT. also how did i never put that together before ofc dirk’s love language is acts of service practically everything he does is an attempt to serve his friends in some capacity and he’s SO BAD at telling them with words.

(his secondary love language is gifts, evidence: brobot and detective pony)

god i’m so excited and so nervous lmao

i love this sprite with the verrrrrry slight smile he looks so sweet.

hell yes the fucking ROCKET BOARD.

“this is a much more comfortable thing for him than the conversation was” I’LL FUCKING BET IT IS.

“with Dirk it’s almost like he’d be less penetrable without [his shades]” oh well now THAT’S an interesting thought/observation.

holy shit that’s a cute fucking smile holy shit holy shit look at that grin AHHHH I’M DYING MY BOY IS SMILING.

“Not sure how well my deep, personal beef with the imagery of the sea will land for you, but there it is.” WELL THAT CERTAINLY MAKES THAT ONE LINE FROM HOMESTUCK 2 A LOT MORE EMOTIONAL, WHICH IT ALREADY DEFINITELY FUCKING WAS.

“Ace Attorney monologue” OMFG HAS DIRK PLAYED AA??? WHO’S HIS FAVORITE CHARACTER? WHAT’S HIS FAVORITE GAME?? i mean he’s definitely got the hair to be a fucking ace attorney character especially in pesterquest lmao

OH MY FUCKING GOD IS HE HOLDING BACK A LAUGH. IS THAT WHAT THAT MOUTH IS. HOLY SHIT. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. I LOVE HIM. I LOVE THIS ALKJADSFLADHADS

“He’s leaning forward, laughing, dimples carved into his freckled cheeks. There’s a small twist in your heart about it, and you can’t place why.” A *SMALL* TWIST? A SMALL TWIST? TRY A TWIST THAT’S WRENCHING MY HEART WIDE FUCKING OPEN AND SPILLING ITS CONTENTS ALL OVER THE FUCKING PLACE.

“At least make me try and earn it first.” THAT’S THE MOST DIRK THING I’VE EVER HEARD AND ALSO FUCKING HEARTBREAKING WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.

“I can just fold [my hand] and hope your shit works out instead.” Ah yes, dirk’s incessant and almost pathological need to be in control at work again.

“I want to be the only one in charge of endangering my own life. You got me.” oh dirk. oh honey.

“How much has this boy wanted to be known?” oh okay yeah that’s fine i didn’t need my heart anyway pesterquest, you can have it.

oh. hi ultimate dirk. i fucking knew this was gonna fucking happen.

“i can’t believe i was ever this pathetic” LEAVE HIM ALONE. (but also i know you can’t because you fucking hate yourself and it’s fucking tragic)

OH. OH OKAY WE’RE NOT JUST GONNA BE FUCKING NARRATIVE WE’RE GONNA BRING THE ACTUAL FUCKING DUDE HERE.

AND WE’RE GONNA PLAY AN OMINOUS-ASS VERSION OF "BEATDOWN” HOLY SHIT. CHRIST CAN WE GET ANY MORE HEAVY HANDED HERE????

also holy shitting christ ultimate dirk is swole. ‘twink ass bitch’ my ass, he’s at least a twunk.

“You fuck off and let people live their arcs.” NO FUCKING WAY, NOT IF HIS IS GOING TO END UP AS YOU, DICKHEAD.

“Oh fuck.

You remember it.

You remember Homestuck.”

well, probably not all of it, it’s pretty goddamn long, and very hard to remember all the details. i should know, i’m currently re-reading it.

oh no.

oh no, this looks like regular dirk but ominous “beatdown” is playing which makes me very fucking nervous.

“You cared about him before you knew every tiny fucked up detail about his life, and now, with a reminder of where his story leads leaning smugly against the railing, you find you still do.” YOU BET YOUR FUCKING ASS I DO!!!! HOLY SHIT!!!!!!

“He’s intense and pushy and profoundly complicated, and right now he is helping you to your feet, his hand steady and firm on your back as you find your balance.” I’M CRYING.

“This isn’t as simple as an evil Dirk and a good one. If you’ve learned anything from your travels it’s that everyone has the capacity for hurt inside them, and everyone the capacity for love.” I’M STILL CRYING.

“The combo of all splinters of Dirk, fermenting in his flesh container and not holding onto his shit nearly as well as he likes to pretend” an apt and succinct description of ultimate dirk.

“No, I can see it. If anyone was going to pull off an “I’m you, but stronger,” it would be all of me, combined.” DIRK I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.

“Your allegiance is not to the story, but to the people within it.” A-FUCKING-MEN MSPAR!!!

“The ends always justifies the means, Dirk.” I feel like that’s the breaking point there. IDK what’s going to happen next but that line sure was a line about philosophy, aka one of Dirk’s biggest special interests.

“[Ultimate Dirk] doesn’t have to work overtime to create more pain just so he can feel like he’s in control of how much punishment he gets and how badly he deserves it!”

oh.

oh wow.

oh WOW that’s hitting it on the fucking nose, MSPAR.

“He’s going to drown in [longing and loathing and Ultimate Dirk] if you don’t do something” STOP COMING BACK TO THAT GODDAMN LINE PESTERQUEST YOU’RE FUCKING KILLING ME HERE.

“You know how he loves -- though it’s fierce (to a definite fault), he does not do it easily.” STOP MURDERING MY HEART WITH PERFECT SNAPSHOTS OF DIRK AS A PERSON EVERY TWO SECONDS MSPAR I CAN’T HANDLE IT.

AHHHHHHHH IT’S DAVE!!! IT’S FUCKING. CANDY DAVE. I JUST. I CANNOT. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. HOLY SHIT!!!! HOLY SHIT!!!!

“you look like someone ironed the mayor so that’s a million more points in your favor” DAAAAAAVE!!!!

“Dave pulls him into a short, back-thumping bro hug which Dirk weathers like a wet cat not trusting a towel to dry him off.” AAAAAHHHHHHHH I’M FUCKING DYING I’M DYING I’M DYING HELP I’M DYING GOD HELP HOLY SHIT, FIRST OF ALL, THE SPRITE/ILLUSTRATION, SECOND OF ALL, THAT DESCRIPTION OF DIRK, THIRD OF ALL I’M FUCKING DYING

CANDY DAVE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.

you deserve so much better than the raw hand the candy epilogue dealt you jfc.

“Bringing fucking guns to a knife fight here.” I mean, did you really expect MSPAR to play fair when the health and happiness of all their best friends is at stake, UD?

SAD ENDING IS SAD.

“Be good to that me, will you? Treat him right?”

dirk, this is yourself. you’ve never treated yourself right. ever. tbqh you probably never will. ultimate dirk is absolutely no different.

(but also this makes me wonder if we’re gonna see “Trust yourself” timeline Pesterquest Dirk showing up in Homestuck 2? That would be fucking wild I’d love to see that.)

“are we anti-ocean here”

“Oh yeah, extremely.”

YES, WE FUCKING ARE, AND AGAIN WITH THE REFERENCES TO HOMESTUCK 2 JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.

oh, of fucking course ultimate dirk’s a sore loser, he’s ultimate dirk, fucking duh.

“You did it. You got him a good end.” i fucking love that this game is literally just. explicitly saying exactly what i was freaking over and desperately wanted.

like i’m just gonna take a moment here to admit that i was really nervous that dirk would end up like candy timeline dirk and just off himself. i was really afraid that a good end just straight up wasn’t possible.

i love that it’s not. and i equally love that the game acknowledges that a FUCKTON of us really wanted to give him that.

“Maybe [Doc Scratch] and Ultimate Dirk were working together the whole time.” maybe doc scratch has been ultimate dirk this whole time. or vice versa.

“There are just so many details to remember” lmao i made that point like a dozen paragraphs up.

i.... do not recognize the text style of whoever just say “hey. we can talk about this.”

IT’S HUSSIE. HOLY SHIT. IT’S DEFINITELY 100% HUSSIE.

i....... don’t know who that is? the woman?

is this like. the person who’s been running pesterquest?

it totally is.

i don’t know who that is i don’t know enough about the homestuck machine to know who that actually is.

lmao ultimate dirk and the irl director are fighting over how incredibly self-indulgent this metanarrative is, which is fucking amazing. i kind of love this? i really kind of adore this.

i can’t help but notice that the director has blank white eyes.

i.e. the Author is already dead, yo.

“They’re just an artifact of the medium” HOLY FUCKING SHIT THIS IS FANTASTIC. I AM HAVING SO MUCH FUN HERE.

“I’d say thanks but I feel like you all got more out of it than me” I’M DYING I LOVE THIS HOLY FUCKING SHIT THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY.

“Stop flirting with my audience you anime ass motherfucker” LMAOOOOOOOO

“I wouldn’t look like this if you didn’t want me to” I KNOW I’M JUST QUOTING BASICALLY THIS WHOLE THING BUT LISTEN I LOVE IT, I FUCKING LOVE IT, IT’S FUCKING PERFECT, GOD. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST THIS IS SO GOOD.

“I actually let the artists have a lot of creative license” somebody’s horny for ultimate dirk.

eridan DESERVES that gender arc and i’m excited for him.

“Happy people don’t get stories told about them.” I’m sorry, I’ve read enough Domestic Fluff fanfic to tell you that’s just blatantly not true, Ultimate Dirk.

wait.

wait wait wait wait.

pesterquest is a RETCON???????????

THAT was not something i was expecting

you click “don’t” betray your friends and pesterquest just fucking closes like this is fucking undertale jesus fucking christ.

but....

i don’t wanna betray my friends.

but i wanna see what happens....

god dammit this is exactly like the murder run of undertale, i don’t wanna do it but i have to know.

“Andrew Hussie would never do this to me” yeah well, Andrew Hussie barely ever interacted with you soooooo...

and if i throw the beta in the sewer again pesterquest quits. again.

i mean, i knew it would but... *sigh*

that’s a fucking depressing ass ending.

... except that “Savior of the Waking World” still hasn’t been unlocked...

Huh.

I’m... gonna see what happens if I start John’s route over again.

oh duh, of course it’s a retcon, MSPAR touched the Homestuck juju. i forgot about that.

(a big part of me wants to look up the process of getting the true ending. but a bigger part of me wants to figure it out for myself.)

hmmm. okay so replaying john’s ending once didn’t do it.

i guess i coooooould try replaying the whole thing? that sounds. like a lot of effort.

or i could try not betraying my friends approximately five million times let’s see what happens if i do that.

i’m going to do that experimenting in another post cuz this is already huge. see ya in part two.

[artsninspo]

PART X - The Hunt

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Author’s Note: 

There are some BIG reveals in this chapter. Things are starting to heat up.  Hope you’re enjoying - buckle up :)

Reconciling his feelings for Elle was a difficult task. He cared and every time they fucked he wanted more. He’d always needed a certain amount of space and she felt like the perfect intersection between his wants and needs. But he’d never been good at partnership or cared enough to go out of his way for anyone.

He’d let emotion cloud his curiosity for too long, now it was time for answers.

Tre sat in his car for twenty minutes contemplating his meeting. The Italians on the other side of town ran the casinos and a couple of strip clubs. Definitely a place a chump like Kell could get hustled but as far as he knew that kind of violence wasn’t their style. He’d toed the line expertly between the two worlds never getting in to deep to keep outsiders out. His grandmother’s best friend was an underbosses wife. He’d grown up adjacent to some shot callers. It’s how he got his liquor license for the club, equipment to start it up wholesale and an extra line of defence in case anyone tried to fuck him up.

“Tre?” Sal says once he walks in looking tired and unshaven. They were close in age - Sal being a few years older.

“What’s up Sal? Had some things on my mind wanted to know if you had some time?” He asks making note of his surroundings. Sal nods heading into the back while his people watch Tre closely. They sit in the upscale office cutting cigars to have a smoke as custom before getting started.

“Things got a little out of control” Tre speaks.

“I heard a story what’s yours?” Sal asks getting comfortable.

“Lawyers husband gets shot up during museum event. We hear he has a debt. I’m not asking it’s just not what I’m used to”

“What’s your dog in this fight?” Sal smiles, he’d known Tre forever and the whole world could be falling down - Tre wouldn’t bat an eye unless it was affecting his business or causing attention from the cops.

“Black I’ve known you since we were kids, you don’t put your neck out on the line for no one. You’ve never come around unless it’s business. You only spent an hour at my wedding” he lists curiously making black swallow. It was all true. Sal had tried to be there for his friend. His mother and father had extended their home to him when his grandmother died but he didn’t want hand outs. He just wanted to be alone.

“Alan Clarke”

“Ahh, crooked politician” Sal smiles. “What? He doesn’t know the town is impossible to take over?” Sal laughs.

“Kell is his in law, the family is good for money. I just don’t see how he’d run up a debt. I don’t see how it makes sense.” Tre explains.

“I don’t know nothing about it” Sal tells Tre earnestly. “Sounds like I should look into it. Debt gets thrown around and people start looking to us” he swallows.

“It smells bad”

“I agree, it stinks” Sal nods looking Tre over. He admired him. Especially for being mostly on his own. “Alan Clarke” Sal repeats taking a long pull. “He’s good forever and we take care of family”

“Trusting a politician, I’ve always heard the opposite is the smartest course of action”

“It is usually, no one trusts him. The fuck is a coward but he cares about career. He fucked his own daughter over for the family” Sal swallows putting the cigar down.

“Step daughter” Tre corrects.

“You’ve done your research, nice piece of ass” Sal smiles making Tre uncomfortable. He and Elle weren’t together but he wanted nothing more than to check Sal.

“Not completely up on what happened”

“His kid, well she’s a fucking star. She’s fearless and fun. Had a club by the beach. Old Hollywood style. Everyone was there it was such a good time. She could clean liquor and pockets in no time but fuck man, shit didn’t matter because it was the best few hours of your life.” Sal shrugs.

It was news to Tre, he’d heard about the club but never been.

“Anyhow Princess has a business partner, best friend. Business partner was fucking the bosses wife. That’s unforgivable but the bitch lies says it was rape because he drugged her the first time and then threatened to blackmail her the other times” Sal swallows. “Jesse was a piece of shit for screwing her but he wouldn’t rape her. But when you hear that from your wife what are you going to do?” Sal shrugs.

“So he took care of it?”

“We all got there like it was a regular night then guns were drawn. Boss got Alan’s kid and threatened to do to her what he thought was done to his wife. Or let his crew. The kid had heart and didn’t beg, she was pissed. She called Rina every name in the book for lying. We tried to stop it but then she started talking to the boss crazy. Guns were pulled on Jesse. She stopped tears in her eyes she said she’d fuck everyone in there if he didn’t shoot” Sal swallows zoning out and looking ahead.

Tres stomach stirs as he feels sick at the thought of Elle going through anything like that.

“Jesse wouldn’t allow it. Not Princess, not ever. She told the boss he was making a mistake and that his wife couldn’t be trustees she was a lying whore. She told off Jesse for fucking with her. Rina stayed quiet keeping the lie. They had to pry Princess from Jesse. He made them promise nothing would ever happen to her walked to his death like a man.”

Tre looks up at Sal feeling ice in his veins for Elle.

“All in front of the girl?”

“Yeah” he nods taking a sip of his bourbon.

“I mean, the family is tough but if I heard someone threatened to have my daughter fucked by twenty odd guys. I’m not attesting to it being a crime of passion over a rape. Jesse didn’t rape Rina” Sal swallows. “That bitch ruined the only good fun in two hundred miles. Club is shut down and there hasn’t been a party in nine months because of her shit” Sal says with distaste. It’s only his place because the boss is his cousin. “Like I said, nothings happening to Alan or his family”

Tre sits in silence, fucked up was an understatement to describe Elle’s family. They completely fucked her over.

“The girls safety is in my interest” he says shocking Sal who knew Tre was a no attachments kind of guy.

“She’s protected. Boss feels bad about how shit went down. Rina came clean. Her brothers already been here. Her pops, he’s a respectable guy that’s done us many favours in the past” Sal explains.

“I need a favour. I’m looking into it myself but I hear it’s some east side thugs who ran up on the event shooting. I was supposed to be there too. I know your girls are good at getting the truth out of people. I can pay to have two put on these two” Tre says showing pictures of two of his associates.

“Keep your money, we’re family and these idiots are using our name. It’s in our interest to sort it out before the cops do” Sal says causally.

“Thank you” Tre nods.

“Keep in touch, be careful” Sal warns as Tre leaves.

____

Elle was the only one taking the shooting seriously. Dia was back to work within a week and Kizzy back on her bullshit. Leaving Elle with the responsibilities of walking Pet. Kelly’s long haired miniature daschound. She’d been trying to piece everything together on her own with no luck. Sitting on the picnic table watching Pet run around the dog park felt like the only time she’d exhaled in weeks. Pungent cologne gets her attention and she turns to see Luca a man she’d kill in seconds of it wouldn’t endanger the people she loved.  She turns looking back at the dogs at he sits, tears welling in her eyes.

“I told you I’m not selling the club and it’s not reopening” Elle swallows.

“This isn’t about the club” he says.

“I told you, we have nothing to talk about until you leave me alone with your bitch wife” Elle snaps recklessly. He could kill her right there and then.

“I’d never allow any of my men to put a hit out on your uncle” he speaks to cover his own tracks.

“What do I owe the honour of your company Luca?” Elle snaps with hostility, not understanding why he was here after everything.

“You ran, ran away to the middle of nowhere. You didn’t tell me who your father was, you always said you didn’t do serious but a man met with my second about your safety.” He explains letting her know ego was involved.

“Luca fuck off, you killed my world.” Elle snaps walking away but he pulls her back.

“I should’ve listened to you. I shouldn’t have said what I said but I am who I am. People aren’t perfect” he iterates using her line. “He had to pay for fucking my wife.”

“She never loved him you know and he adored her” Elle cries wiping her eyes. It’s what broke her heart the most. Jesse finally loved women who he thought loved him back. He was so sure he had what people searched their entire lives for - real love. “I’ve spent months going over it in my head. She knew about us, she knew that you were fucking me Luca. She knew she wasn’t enough to make it stop. She wanted to hurt me. She did. She lied got Jesse killed and made it so I’d NEVER want you again” Elle breathes taking her arm back.

“She isn’t done, she knows you’ve been here. She’s been dialling this area code. Something about a fire, off brand crooks trying to get at you. Blacks been getting between all her efforts”

“Leave Black out of it!” Elle snaps and Lucas expression sours. He tries stomaching the resentment and jealousy.

“He’s fine, he has a lot of love” Luca swallows.

“I don’t understand what her problem is. She has you and she’s still upset?” Elle contemplates enraged.

“I haven’t been with her” Luca says like its supposed to mean something to Elle - like there was a chance she could forgive him. It was never supposed to get so serious. He was a regular and Elle was feeling frisky. She’d always enjoyed games of chicken and high stakes. So what he was married? That didn’t mean much in that world. But Luca caught feelings and spent more nights with his pretty little thing. Neglecting his home. Then to rope her in he got involved with Alans business. He likes the chase as much as Elle likes running.

High risk, high reward.

Nothing else in his life was that carefree. Least of all his marriage. Business seemed easier than that. Rina had never made a fuss about his affairs before but the writing was on the wall about Elle. Her husbands attention wasn’t hers and neither was his love. She’d seen the gifts and attention and decided to fuck them all over for breaking her heart.

But now there were two women scorned.

“Luca!” Elle shouts. “Do us all a favour and either fuck her or kill her. Do me a favour and leave me alone” Elle says picking up the dog and heading to her car.

_____

Authors Note:

Hell hath no fury like a what?

Anyone see this coming when it was first revealed how Jesse was killed? Make sense now why Elles been such a wreck. There are always several sides to a story.