#wow TWO main tags this is legendary for me

[haruichi-mamiya]

I REMADE THIS POLL BC I DIDNT LIKE THE OPTIONS ONCE I SENT THEM BUT

I've been curious about something I've noticed lately and wanna see if frequency bias is at work here for me so

(Assume when I say aro or ace that also includes being on the aro spectrum or ace spectrum respectively. So if you're ace and identify as arospec, aroace would work)

[leighsartworks216]

I Come With Knives Pt9

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Wow two chapters of this in such a short span of time?! Yeah, I'm procrastinating shut up. Not proofread

Warnings: references to blood drinking, ignoring consent/ignoring autonomy, some violence, trauma (that's a given), references/mentions of past abuse

Word Count: 1,760

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

I Come With Knives Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“I trade in blood and the potions that can be wrung from it. I’m more than happy to make you one, if you’d honor me with your blood.” Araj Oblodra smiles. It’s not warm or welcoming; something devious dances across her face. It makes you uncomfortable. “With one drop, I can brew a rather potent potion for you. The rest, I keep for myself.”

You can’t hide the grimace that overtakes your face. ‘Sanguineous arts’ already struck an odd chord within you, but asking for your blood? And even going so far as to keep some for herself? “What will you do with the rest?”

“The excess would be used for my experiments. I’m always working to find ways to make stronger potions. Who knows what the blood of a True Soul could do for even a rather simple mixture?”

You cringe. “Not interested, sorry.”

She sighs, scowling. “A pity. Although, perhaps there’s one more thing we can discuss: your friend.” She looks at Astarion, but not as the person he is. Her eyes scan him over like she’s looking at an object, studying a rare work of art. Astarion notices it, too. She turns her eyes from him and he’s relieved to be spared from that look, if only temporarily. “He’s a vampire, no? Or one of their spawn, at least.”

Astarion slapped on a fake grin. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re all friends under the Absolute.” He lifts his chin, donning an air of confidence. “I won’t bite.”

“Oh I’d prefer if you did.” She smirks. An uneasy feeling settles heavily in your gut. His mask slips. “I assume he belongs to you?”

Your eyes shoot wide open. “Excuse me?” The question has you reeling. It takes you a moment to find your words. “He’s his own person!”

She laughs and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “I’m sure he really believes that. How utterly adorable.” For a brief moment, all you see in her place are the faces of all the loyal subjects under her. She turns to the elf, head held high so she’s looking down her nose at him with a sneer. “Do you have a name, spawn?”

When you look over, Astarion is shifting uneasy in his armor. He’s used to being reduced to nothing - less than human, only fit for someone else’s gain. But it hadn’t happened since the crash. This was… a lot. “Astarion, but hold on-”

“Good,” Araj cuts him off with a smirk. “Now, Astarion.” You want to throw up when she says his name like that. “I’ve dreamt of being bitten by a vampire since I was a young girl.”

He balks. “I’m sorry? You want to be bitten?”

Something otherly and unsettling sets into her face and voice as she speaks. “To feel your life’s blood slipping away? To dance on the edge between life and death?” Her voice is airy as she says, “Yes, I want it.” You’re fortunate enough it goes back to being somewhat normal when she returns to talking about business. “I’ll even compensate you - a potion of legendary power that forever increases the strength of the one who consumes it. It’s not for sale, but it’s yours if you bite me.”

“I will have to decline.”

“Excuse me?” she scoffs. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and you’re squandering it.”

Astarion scowls, creases deepening with the anger in his expression. “I gave you my answer.”

Araj still looks furious when she turns on you. “Can’t you talk some sense into your obstinate charge?”

Your hand twitches by your dagger, but it’s not blind fear that rules you. This is entirely different from the Gur. He’d been on the hunt for you, to bring you back to Berdusk and your master. All Araj cared about was Astarion. All she wanted was for him to bite her, even when he said no. This was not fear, this was anger.

“Can’t you understand ‘no’? He’s not going to bite you.” You glared at the drow. Whatever shock you felt before had been pushed aside. She didn’t care about Astarion’s free will, and she never would. She was just like all the others you’d seen that ache for a vampire’s bite.

She gasps like she’s been insulted to her very core. “It’s obvious you’ve let him indulge plenty in your own neck. Is that it, then? You want him all to yourself?”

You don’t know what happened. Everything is a blur, a flurry of motion that makes your head spin. Once you process where you are, ice floods your veins.

Araj is on the floor, staring up at you with wide, horrified eyes. You’re on top of her, legs straddling her waist and a hand at her shoulder keeping her held down. Your dagger hangs mere inches from her eye. And then you realize the thing that stopped you from killing another innocent: a hand around your wrist, pulling the knife away from Araj. Astarion’s hand.

He doesn’t want her to live, gods no. But he remembers what happened to you the last time you took someone’s life through blind emotion. He doesn’t want to see you like that again.

You scowl down at her as you growl out, “He. Said. No.”

She nods fearfully - she’d have agreed to anything you said if it meant saving her own skin. Your fingers loosen around the handle of the dagger and Astarion pries it from your hand. His other supports your waist as you stand up from the drow, backing away toward the others, who all watched with mixed expressions. You don’t turn away from her until you’re almost by the door. Only once it’s shut do your shoulders relax.

“What happened back there, soldier?” Karlach asks.

You sigh and take your weapon back from Astarion. “She… reminded me of somebody.” As you return the knife to its sheath, you shake your head. “Nevermind. Let’s just go.”

-

Astarion clears his throat as he enters his tent. You’re sitting on your bedroll, looking at the different candles you’d dug out of storage. You were running low, and you wanted to try optimizing them to the best of your abilities, until you could find or purchase more. You look up from your work, watching as he takes his seat across from you.

“I, uh, I wanted to thank you.”

You tilt your head at him as you set the candles aside. “What for?”

“For nearly killing that vile drow, for what you said back there.”

You half-chuckle. “It, admittedly, wasn’t for purely selfless reasons.” Your hands begin fiddling with each other in your lap. “She reminded me of the servants my master keeps. They all vye for her attention, desperately wishing she would drink from them instead of…” You clear your throat. “When she kept saying you belonged to me, I just- I lost control.”

He hummed, understanding precisely. When Araj saw your scar and brought it up, not knowing he wasn’t the one that gave it to you, her fate was sealed. She would be a corpse right now if he hadn’t acted quickly enough. “I’m grateful, all the same. I spent two hundred years using my body to lure pretty things back for my master. What I wanted, how I felt about what I was doing, it never mattered. You could have asked me to do the same - to throw myself at her, what I wanted be damned.”

“I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do,” you asserted. “You’ve spent too long already having to deal with that. And, she didn’t seem like she’d make a good meal.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, I don’t believe so.” His nose wrinkled. “Her blood smelled absolutely foul. No potion would have been worth the stomachache.”

“What’s wrong with her blood?”

“Gods know what. There’s no telling what she’s experimented with in her line of work.”

“Gods willing, we’ll never know.” You reach for the candles again, prepared to pick one out so the very moment this one runs out, you’re not fumbling about trying to bring back the light, but his hand stops you. You look at him again. His face is leaned in close to yours.

“There’s… something else I wanted to discuss.” He can see the bob of your throat as you swallow, but you nod. “I know we both have our own demons to contend with, and we will, in time, but…” He lets out a soft breath. “You… You’re incredible. So many times, you’ve had ample opportunity to turn me away for what I am alone, but you didn’t. You confided in me, despite it all.”

“I trust you, Astarion,” you whisper. He can feel the warmth of your air against his lips.

“I want us to be something,” he confesses. “Something real. I just don’t know what ‘real’ looks like. Not after two hundred years of playing the rake.” He frowns. “Being close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back for him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels… tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust and loathing. I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to.”

You lean back from him slightly, giving him more room. He misses the way your breath fanned across his skin, but thinking about it for too long puts a vice around his undead heart. You don’t pull your hand from his. “Is this okay?”

He hums softly, thinking. “I don’t mind it as much, if it’s you,” he admits. “It feels… different. A good different.”

Your lips curl slightly into a soft smile. “Then we can keep figuring it out. Together.”

He laughs a little breathlessly, almost shocked by your answer; surprised with how easily you accept his burdens. “You… You are full of surprises, aren’t you?” He glides his hand along yours until your fingers are interlaced. Palm to palm, he can feel the callouses that litter your hands, built up from the moment your freedom began. They were still soft, only a few weeks old at best. “Honestly, I have no idea what we’re doing. Or what comes next. But I know that this…” He looks into your eyes. You look at him so openly, so earnestly. How could you be the product of your past when he’d ended up the way he did? How could you be so kind despite it all? He smiled. “This is nice.”

---

Tag List:

@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars @tototini @ashrio20 @bambamwolf87 @astarion-imagine-archive @thistrashisreadytobash

Removed @sylverqueen_cosplay @yarn_yogi @teardropcup because it won't let me tag you. If any of these are you, please give me a main account to tag or change your settings so I can tag you.

[inventors-fair]

Couldn't Have (Un)done Better

Congratulations to our winners this week! @shadow-tag with Prismatic Conduit, @hiygamer with Once More with Feeling, and @izzet-always-r-versus-u with A War on Two Fronts!

~

Prismatic Conduit

Holy cow you almost gave me a heart attack with that first ability! Then the second one made me snort a bit. What a clever way to answer this prompt. This card is very unique, and though it’s a little tough to interpret at first for inexperienced players, it’s pretty easy to figure out afterwards. Essentially, this makes it so that the first mana of each color of each spell can be paid with any color of mana. It’s not insanely powerful, but it can be super useful. If you’re playing a Jengatha deck, all your stuff can be spent with colorless mana! It’s also a mana rock, so it has other uses. It’s clearly a reference to chromatic orrery and prismatic lens (at least to me), but a weaker version of the former in ways I agree with. I also love that there’s potential combos with this. It’s amazing with devoid cards (1 mana Herald of Kozilek!) and ghostflame, and terrible with Sphinx of the Guildpact. I really really wish this worked with Ghostflame Sliver, but sadly that doesn’t affect sliver spells. This card is useful at its base, has combo potential, and met the prompt in a way that made me chuckle. The only thing I wish this card had was a rarity. I could see rare or maybe uncommon if it were a more advanced set. But honestly, I’m willing to ignore it.

-

Once More with Feeling

Now this is a strange remand. It’s very hard for me to think of fair uses for this beyond cantripping. It doesn’t stop counterspells or mess with the stack all that much. It’s good against flings and other additional cost cards I guess? But no, what you’re doing with this is hitting your own stuff, Tibalt’s Trickery style. The obvious one is eldrazi with cast triggers, but it’s also really cool in cascade decks. You can cascade into this, draw a card, then recast the cascade spell. I’d also love if there were exactly one card like See the Truth that it was meant to work with. There also might be some mechanics that work with it well. For example, I think this would let you un-flashback a card? I like this card because while the fail-state is pretty banal, a little cantrip, or perhaps letting you get around an opponent’s counterspell, I think a lot of players would have fun trying to break this, and if it does I feel like it’s deserved. You’re only ever hitting a spell you were already able to cast, so it’s never cheating anything that you didn't earn some other way. I really like it.

-

A War on Two Fronts

Wow, this one really makes me think. How would this play out? You can attack with your massive creature, then if they don’t block, leave your little creatures behind and not block anyway. If they do block, then you know your second attack gets through. At first I wondered why you made the first ability a trigger on attacks rather than just a static that gets you an extra phase, but I guess this makes it so you don’t have to go through combat twice if you didn’t need it the first time. I really really wish there were a main phase in between those combats, but it doesn’t break anything if there isn’t, I just think it would have made some extra decision points. This one definitely fits the concept better, though, of combat just sort of being split in half. I also think the cost is good. It doesn’t do anything (as the contest so desired) but definitely has an effect, so two mana is nice. Legendary I guess is nice in order to fit the name, but I don’t know how necessary it is. I feel like after the second combat the rest aren’t doing much, so why not just let players realize that on their own? But it also keeps things simple. But yeah, I really like this card and would love to see what happens when it’s in play.

~

And there we have it! Congratulations again to our winners, and a thank you to everyone else who entered, I’ll be back soon with the runners-up.

-Mod Mr. ShinyObject

[wolf-and-bard]

The Geraskier Dungeons and Dragons AU of my dreams (inspired by the TAD AMA and Joey apparently being an amazing dm):

-"Why do you hate fun," Eskel complains - for the fifth time that day - after Geralt refused his invitation to a new DnD campaign - for the fifth time that day. Geralt doesn't hate fun. He hates play-acting and games, especially if they rely on luck and are overly complicated, he hates big groups of people, and he hates being told stories. Dungeons and Dragons encompasses all of those aspects and that is why Geralt avoids it like the plague. "It's not for me," he mutters and hands Eskel the sandwiches he made for him to take to work. - "But this Jaskier guy is legendary, like I heard he's the best Dungeonmaster in the state." - "Likely an exaggeration...." - "Pleeaaaase. I had to bribe the hell out of Aiden to have him give up the two spots he had." That piques Geralt's interest. "What'd you bribe him with?" Eskel scratches his head sheepishly. "I may have sold our brother's hand in marriage." - "That's ballsy for you... does Lambert know of his luck yet?" Eskel shakes his head and Geralt huffs a laugh. His brothers are unbelievable, one so nerdy it makes up for Geralt's complete lack of interest in pop culture, the other an oblivious prick that tends to get arrested for being offensive. Ciri is their only hope. "So are you coming?" - "Absolutely no way."

-Geralt doesn't want to go and until half an hour before the game is supposed to start, he keeps his resolve. But then Eskel bursts into their shared living room - their flat is still attached to their father's house, but separate enough that it feels like their own; Lambert has a type penthouse suite to himself and Ciri still lives with Vesemir in the main house - with an excited blush and wearing a WoW shirt and the biggest, brightest puppy eyes, and begs Geralt on hands and knees to come with him. "Why though?" Geralt asks. "Would be more fun if I stayed away..." - "But I'm awkward and your pretty face may distract from that." - "Esk, we have the same face." Which is true, save for... oh. The scars. Of course, Geralt wants to smack himself. Eskel always tends to be more self-conscious in groups of new people because of his marred face, an accident in the zoo when they were young. He believes having Geralt with him shows other people how he is supposed to look like. Geralt doesn't believe it's a great coping mechanism, but he can never deny his twin anything. "Fuck," he grumbles and a triumphant grin blooms over Eskel's features.

-That first session is to go over the basics for anyone who needs a refresher and to talk about what each player expects from the campaign bla bla bla; Geralt doesn't contribute more than the odd grunt and is soon distracted by Jaskier's bright eyes, his pretty mouth, his whole energetic demeanor... he develops a little fixation over the course of the evening and gives up on trying to understand the game

-Jaskier approaches him after, while everyone else is exchanging notes on their characters, excited and electric and Geralt hasn't the first clue on what to do. A light hand on his shoulder, a welcoming smile. "Geralt, right?" Geralt nods curtly and Jaskier pulls up a chair and sits. Way too close for Geralt's comfort. He doesn't... mind? Fuck are those butterflies? Already? "If you have trouble figuring out your character, we could always do a private session to get you going. What do you say?" - "Saturday," Geralt grunts in reply. Jaskier claps delightedly, then is distracted by one of the women, Calanthe Geralt recalls, asking if she can play a lioness shapeshifter. He lets Eskel collect him, endures his brother's constant prattle on the ride back. He dares to give the whole thing a shot.

-Their private session starts out with Jaskier explaining different classes of characters, a few bottles of Geralt's favourite Redanian Lager on the side. He tries to listen, at least at first. But then Jaskier keeps licking froth from his lips and some of the perspiration from the cold bottles runs down his exposed neck and fuck, Geralt just can't stop himself. Eskel said over and over that Jaskier was basically a magician, but Geralt thought that would be restricted to the game. Nope. His dick definitely twitches when Jaskier leans over him to grab the dice Geralt brought upon Eskel's recommendation. Geralt catches a whiff of his shampoo - vanilla? - and Jaskier's arm brushes Geralt and well. He lets out a low whine. Jaskier hums a question mark, but when he sees the look on Geralt face his encouraging smile turns devilish, knowing. "Good," he breathes, drops the dice and climbs onto Geralt's lap. "I thought it was only me." Geralt catches Jaskier's hips and they kiss. No classes are studied that day, no alignments picked, no attributes determined. Instead, Geralt learns all the beautiful noises Jaskier can make, learns some of his own anew. They will need another private session to make up for lost time

-"Perhaps I should just design a character for you," Jaskier pants into Geralt's neck as he slow-fucks him on their couch, Eskel being out with Lambert to clear up the whole Aiden thing. It's the third time they're meeting to figure out Geralt's character. Geralt grunts and accelerates just enough to keep them both on the edge. His skin is burning and Jaskier writhes, his shoulders littered with bite marks. "Oh, fuck, Geralt, please." Later, Geralt agrees to Jaskier's suggestion. He makes him pancakes for breakfast.

-When the first session is well underway, everyone quickly realizes that this game really isn't for Geralt. He tries, he does. Jaskier was kind, gave him a stoic half-orc warrior that communicates mostly with grunts, but he still doesn't get all the rules and Calanthe is getting impatient with him, her boyfriend Eist amused by this, and Eskel keeps throwing the dice for Geralt, and these girls, Téa and Véa, stare daggers at him. Jaskier's watches it all with amusement, gently steering the group back towards their adventure - not that Geralt has the first clue what their objective is. But Geralt wants to keep playing if only because Jaskier is so fucking beautiful in his element, imitating voices, using the most ridiculous vocabulary, glowing with pure joy. It's a privilege to see, Geralt understands that now. And he has to thank Eskel for taking him despite his reservations

-"Won't you go on a normal date with me?" Geralt asks one night when they are wrapped up in Jaskier's bed, contented and tired from their earlier activities. "I could take you hunting or whatever." - "That's what you call a normal date?" Jaskier laughs and kisses him lightly. They haven't defined whatever it is they're doing, but Geralt is in no rush. Especially because he hasn't yet dared to breach the topic with Eskel who quickly befriended Jaskier (and everyone else of course, at the end of the day Eskel is a social butterfly, no matter what scars he bears). "Just... go out with me." - "You know, usually I have a strict policy for dating players, but... well that's already way out the window so, yeah, okay. I'll go out with you. But we're absolutely not going hunting, I'm a vegetarian." Alas, there had to be some catch.

-Geralt keeps playing and his permanent confusion becomes part of his character as well. It isn't ideal, but the others - and Jaskier's forgiving storytelling - drag him through to the end of it. By then, Geralt almost gets it. "Well," Jaskier concludes. "That was a bit of a different campaign. Hope you all liked it." The bastard acts abashed. Hah. Geralt and Eskel are the last ones to leave after they all toasted and talked about playing again some time. "You coming?" Eskel asks, hovering near the door. He's long past his initial anxiety, his fangirling, his self-consciousness. That too has been a glorious part of this, seeing Eskel unfold, gain confidence, be at ease. He likes that he could give his brother the safety he needed. "I, uhm," Geralt starts, but Jaskier interrupts by threading his arm through Geralt's. "We are! What's for dinner?" And he drags Geralt past Eskel who raises a brow. Geralt tries to communicate with his eyes all he neglected to tell Eskel. It's only because they're so close that Eskel at least understands that they are something like boyfriends now. He laughs.

-"My baby brother," Eskel lulls later when Jaskier is already passed out from too much wine and Geralt and him stand outside, sharing a rare cigarette. He ruffles Geralt head. "I'd wondered why you stuck around so long." - "Fuck off," Geralt says.

-The next time Eskel invites him to a campaign, Geralt tags along. Not because he particularly wants to, but because now there are two pairs of puppy eyes, begging him, and he can't say no to either of them, let alone both (maybe someday he will actually enjoy the game for its own merits)

[areyougonnabe]

Fic Writer Questions!

tagged by @palamedessextus !!! thank u i love to procrastinate on writing by writing about writing

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

110 on my main account (+ 4 on my sneaky sock for Crimes™ lol)

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

614,551 on my main account which is. hm. a lot

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

obvi the main ones are the terror (50 fics) and good omens (35 fics). beyond that: TMA, the OA, doctor who, LOST, red dwarf, what we do in the shadows, the aubreyad, legends of tomorrow, banished, MCU, bbc ghosts, jeeves & wooster, russian doll, true detective, twin peaks, fleabag, & it's always sunny.

so technically 19, but wow a LOT of those are because i am a fiend for crossovers. (true detective x red dwarf... twin peaks x hannibal... the OA x lost.... russian doll x doctor who...) and many of the others were one-offs for yuletide. i'm pretty monofannish when it comes to writing!

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

lol they're all going to be for good omens... let's see

1. "it's a new craze" - the podcast fic. imho this fic is the definition of "The Claw," a.k.a. the phenomenon that sees some fics plucked out from the fray to become super popular. i'm not denying that it's good! i still think it's pretty clever! but its popularity was probably as much a function of timing as of quality

2. "what a way to make a living" - the uber driver fic. honestly still pretty proud of this one, it flows well and is structurally interesting and genuinely very funny and the perfect length. i had a blast in good omens fandom writing comedic fic, this one

3. "dearly departed" - another one i'm still very happy with. my first ever finished multi-chapter fic & the story that proved to me i could sustain a plot and original characters and also that people would actually enjoy it. so a pretty big deal!

4. "blame it on my juice, baby!" - the fake love potion one. i wrote this fic while delirious with horrible fever cooped up in a tiny council flat airbnb bedroom in london. i think it's still pretty strong although since writing it i've developed a severe aversion to the "meddling friend engineers a get-together" trope in fic & so cringe a bit when i read it back, lmao

5. "greatest hits" - the one with the original songs! the songs are still good.... the fic is ehhhhhhh i guess.

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

i don't respond to comments on most of my gomens fic anymore because 🤷‍♀️ but i do try to reply to everything i get on my terror fic/smaller fandom stories! my replies are usually very lame but i do like to take the time to thank people for reading.

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

i usually don't write angsty endings because i'm a weenie BUT the one exception is probably my terror/TMA crossover which cannot be said to end well by any means lol

7) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

dearly departed has a very lovely ending... i will also plug my OA fic heat rises which is GREAT and has a GREAT ending and nobody read it because nobody watched the OA. i'm fine it's fine

8) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

as mentioned above, yes, compulsively... award for craziest simply has to go to It's Always Sunny In Another Dimension which is, yes, an IASIP x OA crossover. i apologize for nothing

9) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

not that i can recall, [bubbe voice] tenks gad!!!

10) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

i do i do.... when i first picked up fic writing again after college i thought smut would forever totally beyond me but after some very kind encouragement from friends i tried my hand at it & was off to the races.

i would not say i am an expert at it by any means but i have a lot of fun with it, & people seem to generally appreciate it, so i will keep going!

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

also no, phew

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes, a bunch of my gomens fics have been translated into chinese and russian, which is so so super cool!

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yuh, i had a few legendary cowrites in GO! the slow show metafic with cherry @fremulon and the shitscript crossover extravaganza with hallie @kalelraejepsen !!! both tremendously fun experiences

14) What’s your all time favorite ship?

that is a very tough one. if you go by my ao3 bookmarks it's aziraphale/crowley, which might be true still tbh... but i dunno. maybe ten/rose because that shit never leaves you.

15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

in terms of fic i already started posting, there's my one terror WIP with amnesiac tozer that i swear i WILL finish one day... and same goes for my good omens music & lyrics AU, which i fully expect to pick back up and finish off when i inevitably return to the fandom for series 2.

as far as stuff that never made it out of drafts, i started a hodgson-centric fic a few weeks ago that i got like 4k into before realizing i need to seriously refine my approach. so hopefully after exe fest i will get around to that!

16) What are your writing strengths?

well i am funny. so i've got that going for me. other than that ummmm i don't know. i don't think of myself as a particularly good or strong writer bc i really am just here for a laff. i think i can turn a phrase well and get the most out of imagery; i'm good at coming up with compelling story concepts and weird gimmicks, i guess?

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

i fundamentally don't know or understand how People Actually Act And Feel so i have a hard time getting realistic or interesting reactions and conflicts out of characters. my plots (when my stories have them at all) are very powered by external events, i wouldn't call myself a character-driven writer by any means. for the same reasons i struggle with voice and dialogue beyond superficial signposting via vocabulary/syntax. also, sustaining a long story/finding enough Stuff To Happen to fill it up/having the patience to keep writing... is something i need to work on for sure.

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

i'm a lame american who only speaks english so honestly i don't really have thoughts!

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

i distinctly remember hand-writing in my notebook two or three pages worth of a story about what happened to the main precog in "minority report" after watching the movie when i was like seven. the first fandom i actually wrote fic for and posted it online was probably doctor who circa 2010 ish? but my warrior cats RP career predates that by a few years and i did a LOT of writing there. oh warriorsforest39 dot proboards dot com you are missed....

20) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

SEX GHOST AU! SEX GHOST AU!

tagging folks :))) @laissezferre @titleleaf @theburialofstrawberries @girdedheraround @flanneryoconnorfanfiction @wreathedwith if u want!!

[metalbvcky]

2020 Fic Year in Review

I’m waiting for my Sims game to finish updating, so I thought I’d do this since I saw @kalee60‘s post about it :) 

Total number of completed stories: 

14 (15 if you include a short 1am-oneshot I orphaned haha) 

Total number of words: 

111,575 (and that’s not including stuff I scrapped/haven’t posted omg) 

Fandoms written in:

Marvel/Stucky but also Supernatural (on my main) just a tad because haven’t posted anything yet but I’m including it anyway haha 

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected?

Oh, absolutely! Heck, I never thought I’d write anything when it comes to fic because I’ve always kept quiet about my writing. (And I’ve been doing it since I was like 12 and it all started with my Club Penguin phase pffft)  But my interest turned into an obsession rather quickly and I honestly can say, without a doubt, that @buckybees​ is the whole reason why I even got the courage to post my first fic! I’m so glad I did because writing fic has given me a new perspective on fandom in general. And it makes me appreciate fandom/fanon even more. 

What’s your own favourite story of the year?

Pretty much all of them but Bucky's Got a Bun in the Oven? holds a special place in my heart. Not only was it my first published fic, but I never thought I’d write something like that. I go back and re-read it frequently since it’s so short. 

No lie: Sometimes I look back at that fic and it makes me wanna write a series of short oneshots with Pregnant!Bucky. Like, just Domestic Steve/Bucky living in the modern day with a baby on the way. Bucky shopping for baby clothes, decorating the nursery, having snack parties with Natasha, taking care of the baby after the birth, those sort of things. Oh, I think I just talked myself into another idea. 😂 

Did you take any writing risks this year?

Ehh, not really? However, I did write a series of crack oneshots lol. Some are crazier than others. 

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year?

Apple Pie Crumble Cake - This is my #1 goal. It’s a Bakery!AU Kid Fic that I’ve been planning for months. It’s gonna be multi-chaptered, and at least 50k. I have 10 chapters outlined and there are still more I need to get to, but probably won’t until I start writing the darn thing lol. 

I wanna start posting some smut oneshots on my secondary pseud, I have some done but I don’t think those will ever see the light of day since they’re just for practice- most of them were thought of on the spot without any outlining. I’d like to keep anything (totally) nsfw separate from my default pseud, just to be organized lol. And yes, this asexual read/writes smut. 😏 (my personal rule is as long as it doesn’t involve me, I’m good!) 

I thought long and hard on this in the past week or so, and originally I thought I’d join the Shrunkyclunks ‘21 Bang but the more I thought about it, the less I wanted to do it. It’d be my first bang, and while I have an idea, it’s just a little intimating to me lol. Soo, I’ll pass this year. Instead, I’m gonna look out for a Bingo whenever a new one starts up, since I’ll prob be more comfortable with that :) 

(Does this short lil Beach!AU count even though it’ll be done in 2020 but will be posted next year?? lolol) 

On my main, I’m writing a Supernatural + Spongebob crossover fic. Sort of like the episode, Scoobynatural. And I have a feeling that it’s gonna be turned into a series because I’m latched onto this idea- that started as a joke. 

Most popular story of the year.

Are we talking hits or kudos?? Hits, Buchanan Medical. Kudos, The Case of Bucky’s Wisdom Teeth. Eitherway, I’m so happy those two made it as my most popular stories. Buchanan Med is close to me on a personal level, and Bucky’s wisdom teeth fic is something I’ve always wanted to read but never existed :3 

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion:

I think @kalee60​ explained it perfectly when it comes to fics ‘flopping’ (I see this a lot on r/fanfiction) People will see it, they might like it, or won’t like it. And that’s okay! Not everything is for everyone, neither are tropes/genres. I know myself, I’m not a fan of A/B/O and the same could go for someone else who likes my personal favorite genre, hurt/comfort. And sometimes it’s kinda like an age old Tumblr saying: A post that took time and effort can get little as 10 notes but a spur of the moment post can get thousands. (Okay so, I made that up on the spot pffft) 

Most fun story to write.

Buchanan Medical, but Mercury In Retrograde was super fun since I added the whole ‘space puns/pickup lines’ aspect to it. They basically share the same AU, but they’re totally different and that’s why I love them.  

Most unintentionally telling story:

The entire Buchanan Med series. I wanted to explore Steve having asthma in a modern universe (because I too suffer from it- my whole life) and I really, truly, bled a little bit of my personal experience with the disease into the series. Having Bucky there, taking care of/treating Steve? It felt really comforting to me. And hey, write those self comfort fics!!! 

Biggest disappointment.

I hoped to finish the last oneshot of Buchanan Med this year but sadly, my motivation for it just tanked. I write hurt/comfort best when I’m in the right mood for it, and I’m still waiting for it to come back to me, whenever that may be XD. 

Biggest surprise.

The amount of reception I’ve gotten overall, the people I’ve met, the friends I’ve made, and new fandom experiences I’ve gotten to experience myself! Seriously, never in a million years did I think I’ve ever call myself a fanfic writer. But here I am, and I couldn’t be happier <3

~~~

My Sims game finished updating on the fifth question but I kept on rambling because I love taking about my writing!!! It made me realize that wow, I really did do a lot this year when it comes to fanon- especially since it was my first time delving into the world that is fanfiction writing <3 I have many hobbies, video games being the longest one, but I think I’ve spent more time writing/reading than playing games this year. My teenager-self WOULD NEVER believe that! But as the legendary Reggie Fils-Aimesays once said, "If it’s not fun, why bother?” 

I’m gonna tag you guys if you wanna do this! @buckybees​ @justice-for-plums​ @hbalbat​ @its-tortle​ @captainjanegay​ @greyhavensking​ @snarky-drabbles​ @joharvele​ @musette22​ @mysterious-marvel​ 

[flowerpowell]

The Royal Holiday Romance (Liam x MC)

PART ONE

A/N: ..... Okay but hear me out. I sat down to finish my two ongoing series and this is what came out instead. It’s not my fault really. This is going to be a short series (about 4 parts me thinks) and it’s going to be cheesy and fluffy, wintery, Christmassy and very Hallmark-y (I watched too many Hallmark romcoms and this is the result). 

A/N 2: This has nothing to do with the canon but the characters belong to Pixelberry. 

Rating: G

Word count: 1668

Tagging (perma + TRR + Liam tags): @twinkleallnight @kingliam-rys @sfb123 @gkittylove99 @texaskitten30 @iaminlovewithtrr @gardeningourmet @delightfullypinkglitter @hopefulmoonobject @blackcatkita @dcbbw @kingliam2019 @thequeenofcronuts​ @jared2612​ @annekebbphotography​ @lodberg​ *

*my taglist is very old so if you no longer want to be tagged in my posts, just let me know and I’ll take you off.

“Wow.”

“Impressive, isn’t it?”

Victoria looked at the scenery in front of her, still not believing her eyes.

“It looks like I’ve just walked into a Hallmark movie set,” she admitted staring at the white wonderland. Her friend chuckled.

“It does look like that a bit. But Cordonia is always so mesmerizing this time of the year. Truly magical. You’ve never been here?”

“No. This is my first time here, and in Europe in general. And you?”

“A few times. I used to come here for winter holidays with my parents many years ago. The last time I visited Cordonia was three years ago when we were filming The Crown and the Flame. We spent a few months here and we were even invited to a dinner with the King and the Queen.”

“Seriously?!”

“Mhm.” Hana nodded slightly. “It was a very important movie for all Cordonians as it was about their beloved and legendary Queen Kenna Rys.”

Victoria sighed in admiration. Hana Lee was one of the most popular and talented actresses in the world. She was nominated to Oscars at least three times and ate dinner with the King and the Queen of Cordonia. And now she was standing next to Victoria Brooks, novice actress, in a snowy Cordonia and talking to her as if they were best friends, not just co-stars.

Victoria realized how lucky she was to be starring alongside someone like Hana. Great actress and even greater personality. No wonder she was so loved by many. And even though she was only playing Hana’s character’s sidekick, she was grateful for the opportunities that came with it.

~~~~

“Liam!!! You have to see this!”

Liam turned to see his friend Maxwell running into the office with a phone in his hand. “Look!”

“Maxwell, I can’t see anything if your phone is so close to my face. What’s happening?”

“Hana Lee is here! The Hana Lee! They’re filming a Christmas movie here, which she’s co-producing by the way, and I have to meet her. Please, please, Liam, use your kingly privileges and let me meet Hana!” Maxwell pouted and Liam bit his lip so he wouldn’t start laughing.

“I know you have a celebrity crush on her but isn’t it a bit too much?”

“You’re saying that just because you already met her and I wasn’t invited!”

“I barely had any chance to talk to her, it was mostly my father who did the talking but from what I remember she was truly a charming person.”

“Well, duh.” Maxwell rolled his eyes. “I just want to meet her. I’ve prepared a welcome dance just for her and I need to show it to her. She’ll love it!”

“And what do I have to do?”

“Come with me to the set and tell the security not to kick me out? You and Drake can hang out somewhere while I’ll be with Hana.”

Liam furrowed his eyebrows. “Drake is coming as well?” He asked.

“NO!” They heard Drake’s voice from the hall just as Maxwell opened his mouth to say ‘yes’. In a moment, their friend walked into the office and stopped right in front of them. “I already said no!”

“Come on, you guys! I have dreams too, you know?”

“And meeting an actress while bringing your friends with you is one of them?” Drake raised his eyebrow at Maxwell.

“I actually wanted to ask her something.” Maxwell blushed a little. “I wanted to ask her if she’d let me write her autobiography.”

“Err…” Liam started and looked at Drake for help.

“Maxwell, you can’t write her autobiography.”

“Why not? You doubt my writing talent?”

“No, actually, yes, but that’s not the point.” Drake shook his head.

“Only Hana can write her autobiography, you can write her biography,” Liam cut in. Maxwell shrugged.

“Same thing. Does it mean you’ll come? Pleaseeeeee. Pleaseeee, pleeeaase!”

Liam sighed as he looked at Drake who was shaking his head. “Yes, Maxwell. We’ll come.”

~~~~

“Where are you going?”

“Oh, I’ve just finished and I thought I’d go for a walk and explore a bit.” Victoria smiled at Hana who looked beautiful in a dress she was wearing for the opening scene.

“But we’ve just started rolling. How are you finished already?”

“Well… Your movie best friend doesn’t have that many scenes. I’m just a supporting character, remember?”

“Oh, okay.” Hana thought for a second. “Would you like to go through the tomorrow’s scenes later?”

“I think I’m okay. I only have a few lines and to be honest, I’m so used to playing background characters that I feel well prepared for shooting.” Victoria said it half-jokingly but Hana’s face fell a little.

“I’m sure if I talked to the—”

“No, Hana, no.” Victoria shook her head. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m happy with my role. I just wanted to say I’m well prepared for this role because I always play best friends. No whining intended.”

“Okay then.” Hana smiled. “Just remember some of the best actors got their awards for playing supporting characters.”

~~~~

Liam was looking at the set, unsure why he agreed to help Maxwell.

“You’re the best, you know that, right?” Maxwell beamed as he was trying to spot Hana. The security let them in immediately after Liam introduced himself and his friends.

“Just remember we should—” Liam started but Maxwell ran off somewhere, half dancing. “—be going soon.”

“Yeah.” Drake nodded. “I’ll be with the food if you need me,” Drake said before leaving Liam alone.

He looked at the set; it was busy and Liam didn’t feel like socializing. He decided leave the set and go for a walk before he’d come again to take Maxwell and Drake back to the palace. The last thing he needed was people recognizing the King on their set.

~~~~

Victoria was wandering through the forest which was conveniently located near the movie set. She thought if she was to be in only a few scenes in the movie, she might as well use all the free time to explore Cordonia. And there was a lot to be explored.

Normally, Victoria would do a thorough research on the country she was going to but because her being in the movie was a last-minute decision, she had no time for anything except for packing.

She wasn’t complaining, though. There was something magical about exploring the country for the first time. She wanted to make the most of it.

What she told Hana was completely a lie. She wasn’t whining and she was truly happy to be playing Hana’s supporting character. Acting wasn’t the career of her choice. She was in love with cinema ever since she could remember. When she got into her dream film school she wanted to become a famous movie critic. Her plans were changed later when one of her professors told her she had a talent for acting and she should try it. Ever since, Victoria had small roles here and there. She loved seeing how the movie industry works from the inside but at the same time, the more she played, the more she longed for something more.

Not wanting to complain, she only silently wondered when she’d stop playing best friends and be a main character, at least once in her life. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but the longer she was acting, the more she believed she wasn’t a main character even in her own life. Maybe it was supposed to be this way, maybe some people were meant to be supporting characters even in their own lives. Maybe it—

“Ooooff” Victoria’s stream of consciousness was interrupted when she bumped into something. Someone. A man.

“I’m sorry, are you alright?”

“A local. Cordonian accent is really pretty,” she thought to herself as she nodded at the stranger.

“I’m sorry I bumped into you. I didn’t see you,” she admitted and the stranger laughed.

“From my point of view, you were looking directly at me. I assume you were lost in thought.”

“I was, sorry.”

“Oh, don’t be. I always lose the sense of reality when I’m in nature myself. You’re a tourist, I assume?”

“I am. Just came here and wanted to explore a little.”

The stranger nodded. “The forests are usually not the first thing the tourists are visiting but I must admit, we do have amazing forests.”

“They might not be for most people but I love going for walks here and forget about my job, my life, everything.”

“Then I think we’re very much alike. I do like to forget about my job as well.”

“Is your job that bad?” Victoria asked and noticed the stranger’s face expression changed.

“It… can be. It’s very demanding and I… sometimes like to take a break. And you?” He changed the subject. “What do you do?”

“Oh, I’m—” she stopped. If she told him she was an actress he’d ask her what movies she played in. Victoria wouldn’t bear seeing the disappointment on his face when she’d explain she plays minor roles. Not when she started to like him.

“Victoria, stop it, you can’t think every single person you meet and have at least one thing in common with is your soulmate. You’re not living in a movie.” She scolded herself and she realized the stranger was still waiting for the answer.

“I’m… in the movie industry,” she finally said. “A critic. Well, a beginner but you get the idea,” she lied, laughing nervously.

“That sounds intriguing, umm…” he stopped at looked at her expectantly.

“Victoria! Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. And you are…?”

“Liam. Nice to meet you.” He extended her hand and to Victoria’s surprise, he kissed it, smiling at her. “And welcome to Cordonia. I hope you’ll have a great time in our beautiful country.”

Victoria felt a chill running through her body as Liam was touching her hand. She offered a small smile in return. “Yes… Me too.” 

~~

[obligatorynasty]

I’ll Be the Fight to Your Flight, Baby. (Part 2)

Part 1: Here | Sequel: Here  

Read on: AO3 | WC: 18k | Please excuse any typos. 

Main Tags: BadBoy!Tony, SoftBoy!Peter, Highschool AU, NFF, TW:Mentions of Blood, TW:Mentions of Abuse, TW:Bullying, TW:Underage Drinking and Smoking, TW:Mild Homophobia, [see all tags on AO3]

-

~*1*~

Peter didn’t know how to feel.

When Tony threw the cafeteria doors open, the chatter of the room went silent. Though the whispers remained; all gossip about why the school’s most fearsome student was resting his arm around the most fearful student’s shoulders. It was strange for Peter to be the center of attention for something other than ridicule. Along with the shocked expression on Ned’s face, cliques of curious eyes glanced back and forth between the slew of tables. All looks filled with confusion and intrigue and – for a certain pair of brotherly bullies – absolute terror.

All the younger boy had to do was point. And he did, with a shaky finger and wary eyes, directing his unhinged – boyfriend? – to not only the guilty brothers’ table, but to Clint, Natasha, Bucky, and Sam’s as well.

“Is that all of them, baby?” Tony whispered, his face close enough that Peter could feel his warm breath tickling his surely flushed ear. The sensation sent chills down Peter’s spine – but in a good way – like the airy feeling he got in his stomach when Ned and MJ dragged him on roller coasters with giant drops.

Peter gave a demure nod, “Y-Yes.”

Tony’s wild eyes were breathtaking, especially paired with that mischievous grin and the way he cracked his knuckles like warning signs to his prey. Or the way he pulled off that signature jacket and draped it over Peter’s shoulders like he was staking his claim. Or the way he so nonchalantly quipped about not wanting to ruin the leather with some degenerate’s blood, so hold this for me, baby. I’ll be right back.

And Peter could do nothing but stand there – engulfed in the leather that smelled of cigarettes and pure, unfiltered Tony Stark – watching as the notorious bad boy reminded each and every student in the cafeteria of just how fearsome he could really be.

***

Tony’s rampage began with one stunned Clint Barton, ripped from his seat by a forceful grip on his collar. The irony of being thrown against the very spot he tripped Peter lost on him. Likely due to the wind being knocked out of his lungs as he careened towards the off-white linoleum tiles with a hefty thud and, subsequently, a symphony of startled gasps and excited chants of Fight! Fight! Fight!

Now, Clint wasn’t someone who would take a beating lying down. Peter had seen him fight before; win against people bigger than him and intimidate people smaller. So, when Tony dropped down and managed to get in three punches so quick and so forceful that Clint couldn’t react, Peter’s jaw dropped. Tony’s promise of not making it too bloody consumed by sight of Clint’s very bloody nose.

“What the fuck, Stark?!” It was Natasha – poor Natasha – trying to stand up for her partner in crime, not knowing she would be next on the rampage list. The second she stood from her seat, Tony released his hold on Clint’s collar, leaving it stretched out of place and watching Clint pitifully grasp his nose in pain. Then, Tony stood, facing Natasha head-on and flashing his smug, bad boy grin.

“What the fuck, Romanoff?” His words were laced with belittling humor and a wild brand of confidence that Peter couldn’t fathom.

“Don’t do that.” Natasha glared, her brows furrowing at Tony’s complete lack of fear towards her. “What the fuck did he do to piss you off?”

“He didn’t piss me off. Not directly at least.” Tony’s laughter was unnerving, “You see, your boy here managed to piss him off,” He pointedly said, as he gestured over to Peter, who was still standing by the doors with a bewildered look on his face. “And he belongs to me now. So, let’s say when he’s pissed, I’m just pissed by proxy.”

“You’re a fucking psychopath.” Natasha’s words were sharp, but Tony was sharper.

“Let’s ask then,” Tony leaned forward against the table, his palms down and his knuckles up like he was brandishing a bloodied sword, staring at Sam and Bucky with his intimidating glare. “Why don’t you two tell me, hm? Did Barton do something to Parker?” His question was brimming with venom, and thus, met with zero hesitation.

“Yes, he tripped him.” Sam stood, pulling Bucky to his feet as well and expressing so much fuck-this-shit-I’m-out energy that Peter had to stifle a laugh. “Me and Bucky are really sorry for our involvement in all of this, and we would very much like to keep all of our bones intact. Thank you.” Sam looked to Natasha, “Nat, you are on your own with this one.” With that, he was fleeing, towing Bucky behind him as they made their way out the cafeteria, muttering something along the lines of: People really out here fucking around with Tony Stark like he didn’t send just someone to the ER last year. What a bunch of idiots.

“Fucking cowards.” Natasha spat, rolling her eyes and giving an angry sigh when Tony smirked at her. “Fine!” She exclaimed, turning to Peter with forced sincerity. “Sorry,” She said flatly, and with a peeved grimace, before turning back to Tony with an expression that showed just how thoroughly done she was with the whole situation. “Happy now?”

But Tony didn’t answer her. Instead, he turned to Peter and smiled as he repeated Natasha’s sentiment. “Happy?”

Peter froze for a moment, his frazzled mind whirring into overdrive, trying to comprehend the weight of Tony’s question. It was like a wild animal asking the leader of its pack for permission to hunt. Like Peter’s answer was the only thing standing between Natasha and the full power of Tony’s wrath. So Peter nodded and mouthed a nervous, “Yes.”

“Wow, how lucky for you,” Tony said, giving Natasha a look so dark that it sent chills down Peter’s spine in the bad kind of way. “Don’t waste it, Red.”

Tony’s threat lingered in the way he carelessly stepped on Clint’s struggling frame as he made a beeline to his last targets: Thor and Loki.

“Don’t bring your violence over here, Stark.” Thor weakly warned, flinching up from his seat like a cornered animal, posturing in a final attempt to scare off its predator. His reaction was perplexing, especially since he was bigger than Tony. He seemed to have more muscles, more stature, more height, yet he still looked frightened. So, even though Peter’s natural response was worry, Thor’s fear and Tony’s unfazed smirk eased his concerns.

“I’ll bring my violence wherever I damn well please, Point Break.” Tony taunted, wasting no time in shoving both Thor and Loki’s lunch trays off the table, gaining him a resoundingly loud and drawn out Daammn! from the surrounding crowd of students.

Loki stood up next, posturing just like his brother, “You think we’re scared of you, Stark?”

“Oh, you will be.”

With that, Tony’s rampage continued. But this time, it was less controlled threats and more all-out brawl that summoned a flock of rowdy students, eager to watch the carnage.

Before the crowd grew, Peter managed to see Tony land two satisfying jabs to Loki’s face that left Thor scrambling to retaliate. It was all too surreal; the savage look in Tony’s eyes, the speed of his punches, the way he bobbed and weaved around his opponents’ hits like a trained boxer. All the people egging on the fight like spectators at the Colosseum; encircling them like Thor and Loki were the poor fools thrown into the lion’s den and Tony was head of the pride.

Soon, the fight was impossible to see. The students were so enthralled that they stood on tables to witness it. And Peter knew from the screaming and the general disregard for school policy that it would probably go down as one of those legendary Tony Stark fights. Peter’s body buzzed with curiosity. He wanted to watch too, but he found himself unable to move.

Remember, Peter didn’t know how to feel. His eyes traveled to Clint, struggling as Natasha helped him to his feet and clutching the spot on his abdomen that Tony used as a stepping stone. It was brutal, and Peter knew that. He knew he shouldn’t feel glad that Clint was hurt. He shouldn’t get excited about Sam and Bucky scurrying away like frightened mice. He shouldn’t enjoy the scared look in Thor and Loki’s eyes. He shouldn’t – he knew that – but he did.

Because Tony Stark was fighting for him, and that sort of thing just goes to a person’s head.

Peter was pulled from his thoughts by Ned, who was pushing through the crowd to reach his friend. “Dude! We need to go! Someone said Principal Fury was called.” He didn’t stop. He just grabbed Peter’s arm and dragged him through the cafeteria’s double doors.

The hallway was also beginning to swarm with students – kids leaving their classes in droves, trying to witness the fight for themselves. “Okay, so since when are you and Tony Stark friends?”

“Since like a half-hour ago?” Peter shyly admitted as Ned stopped with him in the hall, standing to the side so they didn’t get trampled by the rush of students.

“What?!” Ned practically screamed. “He’s beating the shit out of Loki and Thor right now.” He stressed, “For you, dude! For you! And you’ve only been friends for a half-hour?!”

“Actually, ‘friends’ might not be right either.” Peter nervously laughed, scratching the back of his head and giving Ned a guilty look.

“Dude, what happened?” Ned’s eyes went wide. “And please don’t say you sucked his dick for protection.”

“Whose dick are we sucking for protection?” It was MJ, exiting the flow of students, throwing her arms over Peter and Ned’s shoulders, interjecting on their conversation with her classic witty smirk.

“Tony Stark’s,” Ned laughed.

MJ joined the laughter, “Is that why Peter’s wearing this?” She tugged on the leather jacket still draped over Peter’s shoulders. “Did you swallow?”

“Oh my god! MJ! I-I didn’t s-suck his dick!” Peter’s face flushed red in his embarrassment. “I just- I mean, I guess…um- I belong to him now.” His voice cracked because that felt weird to say. He belonged to Tony Stark – someone that he barely knew – yet, instead of his usual urge to flee, his body craved to stay.

“I see,” Ned nodded. “First, the brutish show of strength, then-”

“The dick sucking.” MJ joked.

Peter crossed his arms, “No! I- He just- He made me cry – well, not directly – but then he patted my hair and k-kissed my forehead and, suddenly, I was just his, okay?”

“I think it’s romantic,” Ned nodded.

“I think it’s problematic,” MJ deadpanned.

Peter just shrugged, inching away from MJ’s hold. “W-Well, I think it’s my decision.”

“I’m just looking out for you, Pete.” MJ became defensive. “We can joke about sucking dick, but Tony Stark is fucking dangerous. We all know it. May I remind you that he broke that Hammer kid’s bones last year, he constantly skips classes, and he smokes.” She punctuated each point with a count of her fingers and ended her rant with a firm, “Say it with me: pro-ble-ma-tic be-hav-iors.”

“Okay, scratch the romantic thing,” Ned shook his head and stepped closer to MJ, physically signaling his position on the matter. “MJ has a point, dude. I’m on her side.”

“There are no sides!” Peter furrowed his brow and let out a frustrated huff. “You guys just didn’t see what I saw in him.”

“Dude, do you even hear yourself?” MJ rolled her eyes, “We’re talking about Tony – probably stabbed a guy – Stark. What could you have possibly seen in him besides gratuitous violence and penchant for starting shit?”

“I saw how kind he really is!” Peter exclaimed, furiously shaking his head, dismissing MJ’s level-headed red flags. Sure, Tony was violent, but somehow, Peter knew he must have a good reason for it. “I saw it, MJ. How caring he is. How he isn’t this fearsome bad boy everyone makes him out to be.”

And Peter’s sentiment was sweet – naive, but sweet – but, unfortunately for him, it was immediately undermined by one student’s passing words: Did you hear? Stark broke Loki’s arm.

“Hey!” MJ called out to the student. “Is that true?”

“Yeah, there’s a video and everything.”

~*2*~

After the chaos died down and students were herded back into their classrooms, Peter was sent to the Principal’s office. He didn’t know why – well, that’s not true, he had a guess – but he didn’t want to overthink it. Everyone was already looking at him funny. Whispering fables under their breath: That’s the kid that Stark broke Loki’s arm for. Wonder what he had to do to put Stark on a leash. Bet a little slut boy like him would put out for anyone. Shush! He belongs to Stark now. Don’t talk to him. Don’t let him hear you. He’ll sick Stark on you. Rumors were spreading. Fast. Painfully fast.

And the jacket wasn’t helping either. For a fleeting moment, the leather was comforting, but now, it just felt heavy. Yet, even as he ripped it off his shoulders, he couldn’t bring himself to leave it behind in the classroom. It was Tony’s after all. So, as Peter traveled down the hallway, he held the leather close to his chest.

The administrative office door was propped open, and the scene inside was shocking, to say the least. Sitting in a row of chairs, outside the Principal’s door, were a handful of Peter’s bullies; an annoyed Natasha, a bruised Clint, a bloodied Thor, and Loki, whose arm was tucked against his chest in a sling. Describing them as ‘pissed’ wouldn’t do their collective expressions justice, and – holy shit – did Peter want to run. But he couldn’t. So he stood by the door, clutching Tony’s jacket like a safety blanket. Awkwardly, and beneath the unsettling glares of his bullies.

As the minutes ticked by, Peter’s anxiety ran high. Principal Fury’s assistant was busy phoning a list of names – seemingly all parents arranging for their child’s pick-up. Peter wondered if he was on that list too? Did someone name him as the cause of the fight? Did Aunt May already know? God, he wanted to leave.

Then, Principal Fury’s door swung open and Tony stepped out beaming, despite the bruises on his cheek or the blood drying on his knuckles or the rip in his t-shirt. “Fury wants you next, Red,” Tony flashed the same unnerving smile as before. And, even though Natasha rolled her eyes, she still nodded to him before disappearing into the office.

Tony turned his attention to Peter next, “Hey, baby.”

Peter blushed at Tony’s nonchalant use of the pet name. He wasn’t used to it yet. In fact, he wasn’t used to Tony yet. In terms of confidence, Peter and Tony were on opposite ends of the spectrum. Tony knew what he wanted and expressed it, powerfully and without pause. Peter couldn’t even handle the pressure of wearing a jacket.

“Come out here for a sec,” Tony threw his arm around Peter’s shoulders and, despite Peter’s resistance or the protests of Fury’s assistant, he managed to lead him out of the office.

“T-Tony! Wait! S-She was upset. I should go back in.”

“She’ll get over it.” Tony shrugged and held out his hand expectantly.

“Um, right! Here you go.” Peter mumbled, glancing over the older boy’s battered hand before giving him the signature leather. “A-Are you okay? Your hands are-”

“I’m fine.” In one motion, Tony threw on the jacket. “I’m about to leave. Come with me.”

“I-I…um, but s-school isn’t- I was called-” Peter stammered, staring at Tony’s shoulders and the way they seemed broader in the leather. The jacket somehow perfected his strangely attractive – disheveled and slightly bloody – aesthetic, and Peter couldn’t look away.

“You were called? Oh – shit – I thought you were in there for something else.” Tony sighed, “Fury’s probably going to send you home too. I’m sorry.” Another rare Tony Stark apology.

“I-Is it because of the rumors?” Peter whispered, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“Rumors?” Tony’s brow raised as he placed a finger on Peter’s chin and tilted it upward to lock gazes. “What rumors?”

Peter gasped at the contact. Tony’s hand felt so warm – or maybe it was the heat flushing Peter’s face – he didn’t know, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he just let Tony touch him; let him idly drag his fingers across the length of Peter’s jaw; let him caress the underside of Peter’s chin; let him ghost his palm around the contours of Peter’s throat; anything. And judging by the satisfied grin that appeared on the older boy’s face, he was pleased with the pliant behavior.

“Don’t get distracted, baby,” Tony smirked, bringing his hand upwards to cup the side of Peter’s tinted face. “What rumors?”

Peter squeaked – yes, fucking squeaked – and who wouldn’t? Tony Stark was touching him and talking to him in that suggestive tone. And Peter didn’t think that simple touches like those could feel so good. Yet, here he was: feeling good. He took a shallow breath and answered, “P-People are saying that you- um… broke Loki’s arm for me.”

“What?” Tony’s grin fell, and so did his grip on Peter’s chin. “I did not break that bitch’s arm. He’d be in the fucking hospital by now if I did that shit.” Tony scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I just dislocated it a little, then I put it back – sometimes I don’t even do that – but trust me, if I wanted it broken, it would be broken.” Then, he paused, his eyes gleaming with a chilling excitement and the corner of his lips mischievously turning upward. “Why?” He whispered, “You want me to break it?”

Peter didn’t know how to feel. The calm way Tony said that should have alarmed him, but instead, the younger boy found himself mirroring the older’s excitement. His mind wandering through the possibilities of playing gatekeeper for Tony Stark’s ferocity. His body buzzing from its inherent power because Peter was fucking tired of being bullied in the high school cesspool. So, of course, the thought of enacting that vicious power gave him a heady kind of rush, but still, it was scary.

So Peter resisted it, shaking his head, “No, I-I don’t think that would be okay.”

“Whatever you say, baby.” Tony shrugged and shoved his hands into pockets. “But my offer stands.”

Peter gave a small nod and a hesitant, “T-Thanks.”

“Anything for you.”

Peter blushed at Tony’s casual and blind devotion. He couldn’t understand it. How this boy whom he never spoke a word to could risk himself so readily, especially if it landed him in Fury’s office.

“Wait, so if Principal Fury isn’t sending me home for the rumors, t-then why-?”

Tony let out a spiteful tsk, “Fury’s got this zero-tolerance policy for fighting. Everyone involved is going home on a day’s suspension except for you Stark. You get a week.” He dryly mocked Principal Fury’s voice.

“A week?!” Peter repeated with a gasp. “That’s terrible.”

Peter was right. It was terrible. Who would protect him from the scourge of retaliation? Sure, his bullies seemed to fall in line now – with Tony’s threatening presence ever-looming – but what happens when he leaves? Peter didn’t want to think about it.

“Y-You can’t leave for a week.” Peter’s eyes burned a little, the fear of being without Tony’s protection slowly seeping out of him and thoughts of taking Tony’s offer seeping in.

“It’s whatever. Even if I was here, I’d skip the classes.” Tony smiled, gently bumping his hand against Peter’s arm. “So, come with me. I promised to eat lunch with you after I cleaned up the trash in there.”

Peter dropped his gaze again, twiddling his thumbs as his nerves bubbled over. “I c-can’t. I w-was called and I don’t- I can’t-”

“Fine, fine, don’t make that face.” Tony brought his hand against Peter’s head, softly carding his fingers through the curls in that same soothing motion as before. “Here,” He pulled his phone from his back pocket and handed it to Peter. “Give me your number. If you get sent home, text me and I’ll come pick you up. Okay?”

“O-Okay.”

~*3*~

Just like Tony predicted, Principal Fury gave Peter a day’s suspension. Mostly because he refused to name the bad boy as the instigator of the fight, which was already a strange ask. As Peter recalled, everyone had a video of the brawl. Everyone. Even Ned and MJ sent him clips of it. Yet, according to Fury, whenever someone tried showing the school faculty the video, their device would be wiped clean by some virus called ‘JARVIS’. So, without any real evidence, Tony was safe from expulsion.

After the meeting, Fury’s assistant called Aunt May. She was upset – and rightly so – promising Peter a stern talking-to, a loss of privileges, and an early curfew for the remainder of the week. Unlike the other parents, she was too busy with work, so she told Peter to walk home and think about what you’ve done, young man. And he guiltily agreed, knowing that Tony would be driving him instead.

With a quick text, Tony was on his way; k baby, b there in 5mins.

Even the way Tony sent messages made Peter feel anxious, and that anxiety followed him down the halls, to his locker, and finally to the front of the school, where Tony was parked and waiting. His car was just like him; sleek and dressed in black with tinted windows so dark that Peter had to be inches away to see inside them. It was expensive too; low to ground, sporty with shiny chrome rims, and branded with a luxury logo Peter’s never seen before. And anybody who was anybody would know that this car was a perk of being Howard Stark’s son.

“Hey,” Tony smiled as he rolled down the passenger side window. “You getting in or what?”

Peter blinked himself out of his drifting thoughts, “Um, y-yes! Sorry,” He mumbled as he fumbled with the car door, threw his backpack into the foot space, and slid into the passenger seat with little to no grace. Noticing the warmth of the car first, the faint smell of cologne next, and Tony’s soft eyes on him last. “Your car is- um, i-it’s nice!” His voice cracked and his gaze flickered around the car, symptoms of the nerves that swarmed his body when his eyes would meet Tony’s.

“Thanks. Stole it from my dad’s garage.” Tony’s honest laughter cut through the nervous atmosphere Peter’s mind was fabricating. “So, where do you want to eat? Pick anything. Let me treat you.”

Peter blushed, his arms instinctively moving around his body in a self hug to soothe his stress. “You don’t have to do that.” He whispered, shaking his head. “You already did a lot for me today, and I- um, I want to treat y-you!”

“Wow, Parker,” Tony raised his brow but grinned, “You want to treat me?”

“Yes,” As Peter’s anxiety eased, his words became clearer. “Anything you want – well, maybe not anything – I guess anything under thirty dollars would work. What would you like?”

Tony let out a light huff of breath that ended in a sly grin that was nothing if not suggestive. “I can think of a lot of things that I’d want from you, baby.”

Tony’s confidence was showing and, just like that, Peter’s stutter was back and paired with tinted cheeks and bashful eyes. His brain processed the flirting but left him without a coherent output, so he settled for a frantic and embarrassing, “I-I-I…um- I- w-what?”

“I can show you exactly what later.” Tony ended it there, seemingly changing the subject for Peter’s sake, but his flirty smile remained. “Let’s just grab some pizza and head to yours. That okay?”

“Y-You want to come over to m-my place?” Peter’s grip tightened at his sides as he rambled. “You wouldn’t like it- I mean, my room isn’t- I’m sort of a nerd, so- No one really comes over, except for Ned and MJ, but they know- I just- I don’t know if you would-”

“Peter.” The smooth way Peter’s name fell from Tony’s lips was enough to silence his apprehensive chatter, but the eye contact was what did him in. “Is that okay?” Tony repeated.

Peter nodded, “O-Okay, yes, but y-you have to leave before seven.”

“Yes, sir,” Tony jokingly said as he revved the engine and pulled away from the school. “But why seven?”

“Oh, um…my Aunt May will be home by then.” Peter sighed. “And she’s pretty upset, so I shouldn’t have company.”

Tony audibly tsked, “Why is she upset? It’s not like you did anything.”

“I got suspended,” Peter stressed, crossing his arms and averting his eyes. “I’ve never been suspended before, especially not for being a part of a fight.”

“Oh, sorry,” Tony quietly said as he clutched at the wheel, keeping his eyes trained on the road. “You mad?”

“No, not really,” Peter shook his head. “Aunt May is mad – and I’m definitely going to get an ear full – but it was worth it. I think.” He explained, “Seeing you fight was- um, it was really cool, like watching a boxing match or something. You seem trained.”

Tony nodded, “Yeah, I kind of have to be.”

“For fights?” Peter questioned, his eyes drifting across the older boy’s scabbing knuckles.

“Yeah, my old man made me take up boxing when I was young.”

“He made you? Did you not want to?”

“It’s not that,” Tony shrugged, ending the conversation like Peter stepped on his toes.

Then, they drove in silence. An awkward and deafening kind of silence – filled with the hum of Tony’s engine and whoosh of the passing scenery – but deafening nonetheless. Tony seemed off, his lips pressed in a hard line and his eyes fixed on the road ahead. The peeved energy radiating off the older boy made Peter feel tense like he was a sweater fraying at the seams. And, despite his best efforts, Peter couldn’t stop the way his body shook underneath that nerve-inducing pressure.

Until Tony clicked on the radio, that is.

Sounds of high tempo drumming, shredding guitars, and strong voices overtook the silence. It was rock ‘n’ roll, and it brought out a silly side of Tony that Peter didn’t expect. As they swerved through traffic, the older boy confidently belted out every lyric, passionately singing at the top of his lungs with a bright smile. Headbanging with each beat, turning to sing to Peter at every red light. One hand atop the steering wheel and the other emphasizing the emotion of the song through a mixture of air-guitar strums, fist pumps, and rhythmic taps on the center console. Needless to say, Peter was sent into a fit of laughter that melted his tension into nothing.

“What?” Tony laughed too. “You don’t like my music, baby?”

“I like it.” Peter blushed and shook his head,  “Led Zeppelin is amazing.”

“Okay, excuse you, we respect AC/DC in this car.” Tony grinned, “I hope your pizza tastes are better than your music knowledge.”

~*4*~

As Tony parked the car, Peter’s heart threatened to beat its way out of his chest. He wasn’t nervous at the pizza place, where Tony’s arm was draped over his shoulders as they ordered, or during the ride here, where Tony’s hand found its way to Peter’s knee. Yet, something about being outside his apartment building forced Tony’s earlier words to the forefront of Peter’s frazzled mind.

I can show you exactly what later.

With something like that hanging in the space between them, Peter didn’t know what to expect.

The smell of Tony’s cologne intensifying snapped Peter from his thoughts. The older boy pulled his key from the ignition and leaned across Peter to grab a cigarette pack from the glove compartment  – and wow, he smells amazing, Peter thought as Tony hopped out of the car. The slam of the door prompting Peter to hastily scramble out of the car as well. He gripped his backpack against his chest with one arm and cradled the pizza box with the other, stepping out into the cool air.

“So, um, this is my apartment building.” Peter’s voice squeaked and he hated it.

“I see that,” Tony smirked, pulling a plastic lighter from his pocket to light a cigarette. “I’ll save my applause for the actual apartment.”

“R-Right.” Peter watched as Tony leaned against the brick of the building. He was handsome, even when inhaling death and sporting bloodied knuckles and torn shirt. “Um…T-Tony?”

“Yeah?” Tony asked as he exhaled a puff of smoke that quickly dissipated in the space around him.

“I- um, what do- are we- why did-” Peter mumbled, his mind cycling through mountains of questions he wanted to be answered but finally settling on, “Why me?”

“What?” Tony gave a perplexed smile as he took another drag and blew it from the corner of his mouth. “I told you already,” Tony took a final inhale of smoke, before flicking the cigarette against the concrete and exhaling a gray, “I like you.”

“B-But why?” Peter pushed.

“Does it matter?” Tony shrugged as he entered the building, stopping to hold the door for Peter, who frantically scurried inside.

“I-I think it does,” Peter added as he led Tony upstairs and down the hall, stopping by his apartment door to reach for his key, but he couldn’t quite reach it with a backpack and a pizza box to hold. “You said I’m yours but-”

Without warning, Tony dipped his hand into Peter’s pocket, slowly and with a gentle drag against Peter’s thigh. The younger flinched, the unexpected contact effectively interrupting all trains of thought, save for the one in charge of his blushing cheeks, and hitching breath, and tensing muscles. And those feelings only intensified as Tony hooked the keyring but left his hand lingering. Using a gentle touch to caress through the pocket’s thin inner fabric and stepping closer, pressing the warmth of his body against Peter’s back.

“You looked like you were having a tough time there, Parker.” Tony’s voice was close enough that his scent of smoke filled Peter’s senses. “Here, let me.” And, as Tony pulled the keyring out and unlocked the door, all Peter could do was grip his backpack a bit tighter and will himself back to a semblance of calm.

“Now,” Tony flashed a knowing grin. “What were you saying, sweetheart?”

And Peter simply shook his head because – fuck – being called sweetheart shouldn’t make his heart do that and it certainly shouldn’t make his dick do that. “N-Nothing, come in.” He whispered and practically dashed into the apartment, distancing himself from the captivating warmth of Tony’s chest.

The apartment was homey; perfectly sized for two with coffee table clutter, arrays of family photos adorning the walls, and faint aromatic remnants of Aunt May’s morning coffee and Peter’s accidentally burnt toast. To Peter, it was warm and familiar, but today, it lacked those relaxing effects because of one curious bad boy’s eyes surveying the space.

Peter placed the pizza box against the dining table, fetched two plates from the kitchen cabinet, and settled in a chair. “So…um- this is the apartment.”

“It’s nice,” Tony said as he gestured towards the photo wall. “My old man hates that kind of stuff.”

“Family photos? Same.” Peter smiled, a light laugh escaping his lips. “May refuses to take those down.”

Tony shrugged as he slid into a chair. “They’re not that bad. That one of you at the science fair is pretty cute.”

“Oh god, not the science fair one. ” Peter mumbled, tipping his face into his hands, hiding his embarrassment. “I looked so terrible that day. No one told me that my hair was sticking up like that.”

“The hair is the best part.” Tony laughed and flicked open the pizza box, grabbing a slice and slumping against the back of the chair.

“Okay, that’s enough about me,” Peter grabbed a slice as well, taking a tiny bite before continuing, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“I d-don’t know.” Peter glanced at the photos again. “Have you ever done a science fair?”

Tony shook his head, “No, my old man says those are for kids that want to be placated by science, not challenged.”

“Ouch,” Peter jokingly remarked. “I’ve done the science fair every year since elementary.”

Tony laughed, “I’m unsurprised.”

“H-Hey!” Peter giggled. “At least I was doing something. What were you doing?”

“Nothing much,” Tony took a bite of his pizza and fixed his gaze on the floor. “My old man taught me lab stuff, I guess.”

“Lab stuff?”

“Yeah, like coding and shit.” Tony shrugged, “I don’t really talk about it.”

“Coding?” Suddenly, something clicked in Peter’s mind. “Did you code the JARVIS virus that Fury was talking about?”

“Virus?” Tony glanced up. “Is that what Fury called him?”

“Him?”

“Yes, him.” Tony rolled his eyes, but his expression beamed. “JARVIS is my AI.”

“That helps you not get expelled?” Peter smirked.

“He can do way more than that.”

And their conversation traveled from there. Over pizza slices, connecting on nerdy topics like programming JARVIS and the processing power of the Stark lab’s computer. And Peter, knowing the extent of Tony’s truant record, was pleasantly surprised by the bad boy’s brilliance. As their chat shifted to Tony’s delinquency, he talked fights, and scars, and riveting stories involving police stations. Then they tripped through favorite video games, books, TV shows, and movies. Peter explained why lego movies are worth the watch and Tony teased but promised to watch it with him but only if we’re eating popcorn and under a blanket, baby.

It ended once the clock hit five and the pizza box went empty and Peter’s homework could no longer wait.

“That’s fine.” Tony stood, grabbing the empty box and their two plates. “I’ve got this. Go start your homework.”

Peter nodded with a smile, “Thanks.” He grabbed his backpack and started toward his room, but panicked once he opened the door. The realization that Tony Stark would soon be in there hitting his peace of mind like a nuclear bomb. He threw his bag against his desk and tornado-ed around his room, cleaning up his embarrassment one neglected pair of floor boxers at a time. He didn’t need Tony seeing that picture of him at summer camp and he was sure his stuffed bear would forgive him for throwing it into the closet.

“Hey, I left the pizza box by the door, I’ll take it out when I leave so your aunt doesn’t suspect anything- what are you doing?” Tony paused in the doorway, shooting Peter a raised brow and an amused grin.

“H-Homework, obviously.” Peter nervously said as he shut his closet door and awkwardly crossed the room to sit at his desk.

“Is that right?” Tony repeated with crossed arms as he approached Peter, stopping just behind his chair. “Your desk looks awfully empty, baby.”

Peter shook his head, frantically grabbing notebooks from his backpack and placing them onto the desk. “I-It looks fine to me.”

“Sure, Parker.” Tony laughed and leaned forward to drape his arms over Peter’s shoulders, hugging him from behind. “Whatever you say.”

Peter flinched at the sudden closeness, his mind flashing back to his previous concerns about the speed of Tony’s affection. “Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“E-Earlier, I was saying that…um- you said that I’m yours, but what-”

“Peter, I like you.” Tony interrupted, gently tightening his embrace. “Simple as that. I fell for you today, and yes, it was fast – really fucking fast, I get it – but the point is that I fell.” He ended his sentiment with a swift kiss to Peter’s cheek. “Focus on that, baby.”

Peter cursed his body for its constant blushing and quickened heartbeats, but he smiled anyway. “O-Okay.”

After that, Peter did his homework in peace, while Tony resigned himself to the comfort of Peter’s bed, falling into a nap that lasted until the clock hit seven; lasted until Peter was whispering his name to ease him awake; lasted until they were hugging to say goodbye.

I had a great day today, Tony.

Me too, baby.

~*5*~

“I am so disappointed in you, Peter,” May shook her head as she stepped into her work shoes by the front door. This was her fourth parental lecture since yesterday night and it featured all the same points: Fighting? Really, Peter? Really? You’re lucky you got off with only one day of suspension. What were you thinking? You know better than this. No leaving this apartment, understand? I want you to do your chores and your homework and think about what you’ve done, young man.

“I know, May.” Peter nodded. “I messed up. It won’t happen again.”

“It better not.” May sighed, giving Peter a sympathetic smile as she pulled him into a tight hug. “Love you, and I’ll see you after work, okay?”

“Okay, love you too.”

With that, Peter was alone and turning around to head back into his room – resign himself to his punishments, do homework, think about what he’s done – but then, there was a knock. And, like any normal teenager, he squinted at the door as if it was his one true adversary, cautiously stalking towards it to peek through the peephole. Surprised to see, standing just beyond the threshold, a leather-clad Tony Stark.

Peter swung the door open, “W-What are you doing here?”

“Happy suspension day. This is a kidnapping.” Tony smirked, stepping forward to lean against the doorway. “Get your shoes, Parker.”

“My shoes?” Peter stared incredulously at the bad boy. “Tony, I have stuff to do- I can’t go anywhere- I-”

“Did you miss the part about the kidnapping?” Tony brought his hand up against Peter’s chin. “I’ll take you even if you don’t get the shoes, baby.”

Peter rolled his eyes but couldn’t hold back the smile that tugged at his lips or the feelings that tugged at his heartstrings. “O-Okay, hold on.” He ran into his room, donning shoes and a warm baggy sweatshirt. He didn’t know where they were going – with Tony, it could be anywhere – but that was part of his bad boy charm.

“I got shoes,” Peter announced as he sauntered out of his room and back towards the front door. “Now, where are we going?”

“Kidnapped people don’t get those kinds of privileges.” Tony smiled, watching as Peter locked the front door before throwing his arm around his shoulders. “Just follow me.”

Peter let Tony guide him out of the building and to a car he didn’t recognize. A gray sedan with chrome rims and, when the front windows rolled down, it revealed a car filled with people he didn’t recognize either.

They were all teens but not from Tony and Peter’s school. They seemed different; richer. The guy in the driver’s seat was burly with a letterman jacket and an innocent face. The girl in the passenger seat had a perfectly pony-tailed updo and air of class that matched her cashmere sweater. The taller boy in the back was a lot like Tony, sporting a leather jacket and an inherent coolness that made his smile seem sly. The shorter boy wore glasses and a plaid button-up that reminded Peter of himself.

“Took you long enough.”

“And I’ll take longer next time if you keep that up, Happy.” Tony laughed as he opened the backseat door and slid in, motioning for Peter to sit on his lap.

“Y-Your lap?” As per usual, Peter’s voice cracked under pressure.

“Hurry up, new kid, either you sit there or I do.” The glasses-wearing boy spoke with a seriousness that compelled Peter not to dwell.

Peter scooted onto Tony’s lap and he angled himself so that his legs sat between Tony’s and his back was slightly turned towards the door. He tried his best to position himself – modestly? – and prevent any accidental touches, but then Tony’s arms were around his waist and pulling him closer.

“Happy tends to drive a little crazy,” Tony whispered, his voice only inches from Peter’s ear. “So I’ve got you.”

“O-Okay,” Peter blushed as he leaned against Tony’s chest, easing against the warmth and slowly inhaling the fresh shampoo scent wafting from his hair.

“So, are you going to introduce us or should we fend for ourselves here?” The boy with the sly smile spoke.

Tony laughed, “Peter, this is Happy, Pepper, Rhodey, and Bruce.”

“Did he kidnap you all too?” Peter jokingly remarked.

“Basically,” Bruce joined the jest. “A suspension for one is a skip day for all.”

“A Tony Stark creed,” Rhodey said and Pepper readily agreed, saying, “Did you know the T in Tony is the same as the T in Truancy?”

Peter giggled, “Is that true, Tony?”

“No,” Tony smirked, giving Peter a light squeeze that made the younger boy giggle. “They just like me so much that they flock to me. Anything else they say is a lie.”

And as Happy drove, there was more laughter, and faces brimming with smiles, and lighthearted jokes thrown back and forth. It was easy for Peter to find comfort in this space, even while sitting in Tony’s lap. In fact, by the end of the drive, he was leaning against Tony like he belonged there; like sitting in his lap was second nature.

Peter peeked out the window as Happy parked the car. “The park?”

“Best place to loiter,” Tony said as he opened the door. “And smoke.”

“Oh god, remember when we smoked in your dad’s lab?” Bruce rolled his eyes as he hopped out of the car with the others following suit. “That did not go over well.”

Tony shrugged. “Better than how shit with him usually goes.”

Peter tugged on Tony’s sleeve and whispered, “You two were smoking in the lab?”

“Tony!” Pepper gasped, “You didn’t tell him?”

“Full disclosure, new kid,” Bruce smiled as he pulled a vape from his pocket.  “Me and Tony used to fuck – he’s got grade A dick, just so you know.”

Tony laughed and Pepper rolled her eyes. “I’m not as eloquent as Bruce, but Tony and I also used to date.” She pushed at Tony’s arm, “Tony should have told you before dragging you out with us.”

And Peter tried to play it cool. All shrugs and nonchalant expressions of how fine with it he was. Yet, as they began walking the path through the park, he couldn’t stop his mind from playing the comparison game. Pepper was beautiful – beyond beautiful – with long legs, poise, and an immaculate style that made Peter feel self-conscious his baggy sweatshirt. When it came to Bruce, confidence was in endless supply. He was shameless and, after just one conversation, Peter also found out how insanely smart he was. So, needless to say, Peter was feeling pretty low in the self-esteem department.

But leave it to Tony to turn that low into a high. “Walk with me?” He asked, but wasted no time in gathering Peter’s hand in his own. “You seem quiet now. Are the trees not doing it for you?”

“It’s not that. The park’s nice,” Peter shook his head and gently squeezed Tony’s hand. “I’m just too nervous for my own good, I guess.”

“That’s part of your charm, baby.”

Peter smiled, “I-I’m sure you’re just saying that, but thanks.”

“I mean it,” Tony brushed their shoulders together. “But there’s something else, isn’t there?”

Peter’s eyes went wide. “I-Is it that obvious?”

“A little,” Tony explained. “You made a similar face yesterday too. So what’s wrong?” He smirked, the same dark and mischievous smirk as before. “Do I need to put someone in their place?”

“No, I’ll be fine.” Peter laughed and moved to walk closer to Tony. “But um…actually, now that you mention it, can you drop me off at school this week?”

“Sure, not like I’m doing anything. Why?”

“Safety?” Peter shrugged. “I think people might do something to me if you’re not there.”

“Oh fuck, right. I didn’t think about that. Hold up,” He stopped on the path, letting the others walk ahead as he pulled off his jacket and draped it over Peter’s shoulders. “Here,” Tony smiled and cupped Peter’s face in his hands. “Wear this and no one will fuck with you and, if they do, I’ll kill ‘em.”

Peter smiled, but before he could say anything, Tony was leaning in – and holy shit, it was a kiss lean! He panicked and squeezed his eyes shut, his nerves erupting as Tony’s smell got closer and closer and – oh – he kissed his forehead.

The moment was sweet, but quickly soured a random passerby who felt the need to yell faggots!

“The fuck did you just say?!” Tony went from zero to beyond one hundred, snapping on the random man without a second thought.

“You heard me.” The man challenged, “What are you going to do about, huh?”

And things happened fast. Too fast for Peter to process. One moment, the man was standing and the next, he wasn’t and Tony’s fist was the culprit. Again, it was an outburst of violence that left Peter not knowing how to feel.

“Tony!” Peter gasped and reached his hand out, grabbing at the fabric of the bad boy’s shirt in a weak attempt at holding him back. “S-Stop it!” He shakily said, watching Tony carefully as the man scrambled to his feet, running off as Happy and Bruce jogged back over.

“What happened?” Bruce asked, his face full of concern.

“Tony hit him,” Peter whispered as he slowly let go of Tony’s shirt.

And, before anyone could get another word in, Tony was walking off, fuming like a smoking gun that failed to kill its target.

“Tony, man, wait up!” Happy ran after him.

“Don’t mind him. He’s always like that.” Bruce bumped his shoulder against Peter’s. “Either you get used to it or you end up like me and Pep.”

“I don’t want that,” Peter whispered, his eyes locked on Tony and his fingers fiddling with the hem of the leather jacket.

“Don’t want what?” Bruce raised his brow. “To deal with Tony’s anger issues? Same.”

“N-No! Not that.” Peter shot Bruce a stern glance. “I don’t want to be like you and Pepper.”

“Oh, wow! Okay.” Bruce laughed, harder than he has all day. “I can see why Tony likes you.”

“At least one of us does.” Peter trained his gaze on the floor. “I still don’t understand why Tony likes me.”

Bruce shook his head, “Tony is fucking unhinged. He’s a vicious fighter; a delinquent through and through, but he’s also sweet and uncomplicated. If you’ve given him the space to be anything other than, well, that,” He paused, gesturing over to Tony, who was slumped against a park bench with a cigarette perched between his lips. “Then he’ll like you. ”

“What do you mean?”

“All Tony cares about is being understood, and if you’ve given him that, he’ll protect you. Violently protect you..” Bruce placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “The question is whether or not you can handle that violence.”

“He’s not that violent.” Peter pulled his shoulder away, stepping back, his voice becoming taut. “He protected me. He stood up for me.”

“Look, Tony empathizes with people who can’t fight back.” Bruce shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “And sure, at first, you feel like he fights to protect you; to keep all the bad shit away; to stop bullies, but then he goes too far. He loses control and expects you to be his limiter. He wants you to be the one who tells him when to stop and when to go, when to hurt people and when to spare them. I couldn’t deal with that shit and, after everything that happened with Justin, Pepper couldn’t deal either.”

“Justin?”

“Yeah, Justin Hammer, the kid Tony put in the hospital.” Bruce sighed, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the rest of the group were out of earshot before continuing. “Long story short: Justin used to hang out with us but, during some party, he touched Pepper while she was drunk. Pep cried about it and Tony lost it. The next day, he broke both of Justin’s arms, fractured a few ribs, and left blood and bruises everywhere else.”

Peter crossed his arms and spoke under his breath, “Sounds like Justin deserved it.”

Bruce audibly tsked and flashed a knowing look. “That’s why Tony likes you.”

And Peter didn’t know how to feel.

~*6*~

The school day was always the same for Peter – bus, class, lunch, class, bus – and peppered in there was always a good dash of bullying.

But not today.

No, today, he wore Tony’s jacket. It was big on him; the sleeves covered his hands completely, save for his fingertips that peeked out the bottom when his arms were at his sides. The black leather contrasted with his blue jeans and his plaid button-up, but today, he wore it confidently because it was Tony’s way of protecting him.

From the moment Peter got off the bus, the jacket was like a force field. Not only preventing the usual teasing and ridicule from the nameless students but also managing to stop repeat offenders like Flash, who glared at him like he was going to say something but turned the other way instead.

And, with the power of the jacket, came the slight ego boost. The unbothered gait into the school, the comfortable smile as he forged the crowded hallways, the lack of fear, even as he rounded the corner to find Sam and Bucky standing at his locker. They made eye contact and gestured for him to come over and, on a regular day, Peter would probably run and hide; try his best to avoid his locker until absolutely necessary.

But, again, not today.

Today, Peter strolled over to his locker without even an ounce of worry – well, his hands were trembling in his pockets and he was already biting the inside of his lip – but he liked to think he was projecting a calm demeanor. “Yes?” Peter spoke softly, trying to keep his voice steady.

“We wanted to…um-” Bucky looked to Sam.

“To say sorry for everything.” Sam finished Bucky’s sentiment. “And, if you’re interested-”

“Steve is having a party at his house on Friday night.” Bucky chimed in with a smile.

Sam nodded, “And you’re invited, Parker.”

Peter’s eyes went wide. He was invited to a Steve Rogers party? Him; a nerdy, skittish, bullied nobody, who could only ever dream of being cool enough to go to a fucking Steve – famously popular quarterback – Rogers party. Like what the fuck?

“Really? M-Me?”

“Yeah,” Bucky answered, lightly chuckling at Peter’s reaction. “You can bring a friend too if you’d like.”

“You in?” Sam asked.

Peter nodded, his eyes still wide with disbelief but his mind chalking it up to the power of the jacket. “Yeah, I’ll… um- I’ll be there.”

“Great, see you later, Peter.” Bucky waved as he and Sam disappeared down the crowded hallway.

“Okay, but are you actually going?” It was MJ, leaning against the lockers with crossed arms and a doubtful stare.

“MJ!” Peter flinched at her sudden appearance. “You have to stop sneaking up on me like that.”

“Like this!” Ned screamed, making Peter flinch even harder. This time he dropped his textbook and clumsily spun on his heel to face the source of his terror, and it threw MJ into a fit of laughter.

“Dude!” Peter exclaimed with a big smile.

“Sorry, couldn’t help it.” Ned grabbed the dropped book and glanced at MJ. “So, what are we scaring Peter for?”

“He got invited to a party full of assholes.” MJ pointedly said. “And he said he’s going.”

“A party?” Ned raised his brow, ignoring MJ’s concerns and shooting his best friend an excited look. “What party?”

“A Steve Rogers party.” Peter excitedly whispered.

“Dude!” Ned’s jaw dropped, “That jacket must be magic. Can I borrow it for the Calc test today?”

MJ rolled her eyes, “You guys are unbelievable.”

~*7*~

“Steve invited me to a party.” Peter rolled against the carpet, propping his head up against his arm and glancing up from his textbook. “It’s on Friday night.”

“Rogers did?” Tony asked, shifting against the sheets, peeking off the edge of the bed at Peter. “You going?”

“I think so,” Peter smiled up at Tony, idly fiddling with the pages of his notebook. “B-But I don’t want to go by myself.”

Tony smiled back, “Are you asking me out on a date, baby?”

“N-No,” Peter blushed. “Maybe.”

Tony smirked, “Well, I’ve got a thing on Friday night.”

“A thing?”

“Yeah, my old man is holding this fucking investor event at our house. I’m not trying to piss him off,” Tony sighed. “So I can’t miss it, but I’ll show up at Rogers’ place after.”

“Okay,” Peter shrugged, “We can just meet each other there.”

“Just don’t get too drunk without me.” Tony laughed and sat up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. “Are you done with your work yet? We should play some video games or something before your aunt gets back.”

“You know I can’t.” Peter lifted his notebook. “I have to finish this.”

“Let me see.” Tony tapped the bed beside him.

“It’s this one.” Peter shifted up onto his knees and put his notebook on the bed. “I’ve checked it over and over and I can’t-”

“You rounded wrong here.” Tony pointed at the paper. “Take the ceiling, not the floor.”

“Oh?” Peter squinted, his eyes scanning across his work. “Oh! That’s it! How did I miss that?” He smiled, fixing his mistake and looking back up to Tony. “Wait, can you help with this one too?”

“I mean, that’s just all wrong. Give me that.” Tony grabbed the pencil and started making corrections. “You need to make sure you use the right function here and don’t forget the extra square on this one.”

Peter laughed, “I’ve been stuck on these for hours and you finished them in two minutes.”

“It’s whatever.”

“It’s not whatever. I really appreciate it.” Peter smiled, “I think smart Tony is the coolest Tony.”

“As opposed to what?”

“Naps-all-afternoon Tony?” Peter joked but gazed up at Tony with a look of concern. “Why are you always so sleepy?”

“I don’t sleep well at home.”

“Why not?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Tony whispered as he brought his hand against Peter’s cheek. “I just sleep better here.” His hand moved to Peter’s chin, drawing a slow line from the spot just below Peter’s lip to the hollow of his collarbone. “Because the bed smells like you.”

“Tony,” Peter gasped, realizing too late what kind of position they were in. He was on his knees, and if he inched sideways, he would be between Tony’s legs. His face went hot and, judging by the smile that worked its way to Tony’s lips, his blush was apparent.

“Yes, baby?” Tony’s voice was full of tease as he brought his hand back up to gently tap his fingertip against Peter’s bottom lip. “You want something?”

“I- um…I-” Peter froze, watching with bewildered eyes as Tony leaned in – yet another kiss lean! So Peter instinctively tensed, his eyes flickering shut as his nerves took hold of his reactions once again.

And Tony stopped just before their lips touched.

“It’s okay if you don’t,” Tony whispered, shifting upward to press a quick kiss on Peter’s forehead before pulling away. “Here,” Tony grabbed the pencil again. “I’ll help you with the rest of this and then we can play some games. Deal?”

“Deal.”

~*8*~

The next day was different.

Tony was quieter – angrier? – Peter couldn’t tell, but he knew it had to be caused by the small bruise darkening on Tony’s cheekbone. It was a rare sight; a mark on the face of the undefeated bad boy. And Peter wanted to ask about it, wanted to know if Tony was okay, but the silence was suffocating. In the car, the older boy didn’t say a word – no playful flirting, no rock ‘n’ roll jam session – just silence. So, Peter followed suit, letting his nerves go wild as they made their way to his apartment.

As usual, once Tony parked, he reached for his pack of cigarettes and got out of the car. Peter hastily made his own exit, keeping his eyes trained on Tony’s expression. The older boy wasn’t just quiet, he was outright irritable. That was made clear by the scowl twisting on his face. He was clumsier too, and frustrated with the smallest things, like accidentally dropping a cigarette into a sidewalk puddle or his cheap lighter refusing to spark. He was all huffs and grumbles and refused to say a word.

With a new cigarette perched between his lips, Tony furiously pulled at the spark-wheel. Once, twice, three times, but it just didn’t catch. Peter wanted to say that Tony could smoke in the apartment – Aunt May was bound to have a lighter sitting around somewhere – but the Tony’s furrowed brow and waning patience was just as suffocating as his silence.

So, again, Peter remained silent.

It was only after what seemed like the thousandth, or millionth, flick of the wheel that Tony finally spoke, or rather yelled. “Fuck it!” He exclaimed as he spiked the lighter against the sidewalk with enough force to shatter the plastic. The outburst made Peter’s shoulders jump and his gaze drop to the concrete.

“Let’s go,” Tony mumbled, paying Peter no mind and stuffing the cigarette back into the pack before stomping his way into the building.

This part was also very different. He didn’t hold the door for Peter. He didn’t pester Peter about having fun before studying. No video games, no TV, not even one of those intimate chats he loved so much. He just went right into Peter’s room, kicked off his shoes, and collapsed against the middle of the bed.

For a short while, Peter didn’t bother him. He sat at his desk, pulled out his notebooks, his laptop, and textbook, and started his homework. Yet, he couldn’t finish the first problem, or the second, or the third. His brain refused to focus because it was tethered to everything happening with Tony. All of the older boy’s sighs, the soft clicks of his tongue, the shuffle of his leather jacket against the covers as he tossed and turned. And, while Peter still couldn’t find the courage to speak, he couldn’t keep doing nothing either.

Tony needed him, so the homework could wait.

Peter slowly stood from his chair, careful to keep it from making noise as he approached the grumbling mess on his bed. His nerves were screaming, and his heart was beating so fast and so loud that he could hear it in his ears. And his hands were shaky, and his throat felt tight, and his mind taunted him with replays of Tony’s standoffish behavior; the silence, the irritability, the sudden outburst.

Yet, despite all that, Peter still scooted up onto the bed, sitting just below the pillows with the side of his thigh only an inch away from Tony’s hair. And wow – Tony’s hair – Peter has never touched it before, but he found himself instinctively carding his fingers through it. Gentle and soothing pats, just like Tony does to him.

And Peter watched with wary eyes as Tony flinched but immediately settled into the touch. That wordless way of relaxing was all the encouragement Peter needed. So, he continued, rhythmically dragging his fingers through the short locks and smiling as the older boy moved to rest the back of his head in Peter’s lap.

Peter kept his right hand in Tony’s hair, but placed his left against the older boy’s chest, idly drawing circles on his t-shirt. The moment was long, but Peter didn’t mind. He continued until Tony’s eyes were closed, and his brow wasn’t furrowed, and his scowl had gone away.

Then, Peter found his voice. “What happened?” He softly whispered, gently skimming his fingertips across Tony’s bruised cheekbone.

The question made Tony’s brow knit, but the soft caress of Peter’s hands relaxed it away. “My old man.” He paused, letting out another sigh, “He found out about the fucking suspension and the fight and he-” Again, Tony paused. “He just did what he always does.”

“What?” Peter’s eyes started to sting and his hands started to tremble, as did his breath, “Y-Your dad did this to you?” He could barely get the words out. His mind was bombarded with flashes of every moment where Tony avoided questions about his dad and his time at home. How could Peter miss those signs?

My old man made me take up boxing when I was young. My old man hates that kind of stuff. No, my old man says those are for kids that want to be placated by science, not challenged. Better than how shit with him usually goes. Yeah, my old man is holding this fucking investor event at our house. I’m not trying to piss him off. I don’t sleep well at home.

And it was too much, so Peter cried.

“Hey, don’t cry, baby.” Tony finally opened his eyes, staring into Peter’s teary ones and reaching up to castaway the wetness trickling down his cheeks.

“B-But he- To you, he-” Peter tried to hold back his sobs, biting the inside of his lip and training his eyes on the ceiling to prevent more waterworks. He was supposed to be comforting Tony, not the other way around. “It’s w-wrong. That he d-did this to you.”

“I know,” Tony hummed.

“He’s- He’s your dad. He should never do that.”

“I know.” Tony grabbed Peter’s hand, intertwining their fingers.

“He’s supposed to care about you! He’s-!”

“I know.” Tony lifted Peter’s hand and pressed a kiss against it. “But it’s okay. Don’t cry about it. I don’t even cry about it.”

“Tony, that’s-” Peter shook his head. “Then I’ll cry for you.”

“Peter-”

“It’s okay to be scared, Tony,” Peter whispered.

“I- yeah, I know.” Tony nodded, gently squeezing Peter’s hand. “Thank you, baby, but let’s not talk about that right now.” And, for the first time today, he grinned. His voice was less somber; less grumbly; less full of frustrated huffs. Instead, it was more Tony or, rather, more flirty. “I don’t want to kill this mood.”

“This mood?” Peter let out a small breathy laugh and sniffled, “I’m ugly crying, and you’ve been quiet and angry all day. There is no mood.”

“Yeah, I know, but-” Tony paused, seemingly struggling to find the right words. “It’s just- you’re touching me and you don’t usually do that, so-” Tony laughed too, and it was just as breathy as Peter’s. “I’m – fuck, I don’t know – I guess I’m just excited?”

“Excited?” Peter repeated, and Tony answered by gesturing to the front of his jeans, where a clear bulge had formed in the black denim, right beneath the zipper.

Peter’s face went hot, and he stopped his touches because, suddenly, he was attuned to the mood as well. Not only that, but his mind – the same one that secretly admired Tony’s eyes, and Tony’s lips, and Tony’s broad shoulders, and Tony’s smell, and Tony’s everything – yeah, that mind – it made Peter’s own excitement start to stiffen. After all, he was alone in his bedroom – on! his! bed! – with Tony Stark and, fuck, he couldn’t stop glancing at Tony’s zipper. “I- You- You’re-?” Peter stuttered.

“Yeah,” Tony’s voice was more hesitant than usual. “Is that- I mean, are you… okay with it?”

Peter nodded, his flushed face getting redder with each little dip of his chin, “Y-Yes.”

“You sure?” Tony asked again, and Peter nodded again. His big brown eyes darting to his desk, and to his dorky posters, and to his messy bookshelf, and to literally anything else because any spare glance at Tony made his nerves erupt beyond his control.

Tony smiled as he sat up, moving to sit beside Peter and leaning so their shoulders brushed against each other. “I know you get nervous around me.”

“What?” Peter’s voice squeaked. “N-No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. So I’m just going to ask this time.” Tony gave a slight laugh – a nervous laugh, really – as he ran a hand through his short hair and made a look Peter could only describe as cautiously eager. “Can I kiss you, Peter? On your lips this time.”

And, again, Peter nodded because his words never worked when he wanted them to. His body was a bashful, shaky mess, but he was also excited so he shifted against the bed, facing Tony before closing his eyes. And he gasped when Tony’s hand cupped his face and gently caressed the space beneath his ear. And he couldn’t see when Tony leaned in, but he could feel the heated closeness and the warm breath tickling his lips and soft bump of Tony’s nose against his own. He could feel the way Tony angled their heads, each slightly tilted to the right. He could feel the experimental brush of Tony’s lips against his own, so Peter pushed, pressing their lips together in a tender first kiss.

It was sweet, not too wet or too dry, and full of emotion that could make hearts hurt. Peter could tell that Tony had kissed before because, when Peter thought it was time to pull away, Tony deepened. Sucking on Peter’s bottom lip, coaxing his lips apart. This was wetter, Peter thought, but he didn’t hate it. No, in fact, that earlier excitement was now fully hardened and pressing uncomfortably against his jeans. And the way Tony kissed him – now confident and brimming with passion – it didn’t help.

Then, Tony licked into Peter’s mouth, and Peter had to catch a sound in his throat. He didn’t know what the sound was – a moan, a whine, or, oh god, was it a mewl? – whatever it was, he stopped it. There was no way he was going to make needy sounds in front of Tony. He would die of embarrassment, he was convinced, but – fuck – Tony’s other hand was against his thigh now.

So Peter had to stifle another sound – multiple sounds, actually – as Tony’s hand slowly trailed upward. Dragging his fingertips against Peter’s inner thigh and stopping just before Peter’s zipper.

That’s when Tony broke the kiss.

Peter’s head was reeling, and his breaths were heavy because breathing while kissing was oddly difficult. And his face was all but boiling under his endless nerves, and the intensity of Tony’s gaze, and the arousal that bubbled at his core.

“Can I touch you here, baby?” Tony whispered against Peter’s lips. His fingertips grazing Peter’s smooth cheek as he squeezed the inside of his thigh.

And the sultry way that pet name rolled off the bad boy’s tongue sent a wave of goosebumps across Peter’s skin. It was all too much for the younger boy to handle – the kisses, the whispers, the touches – so, he gave in to his urges. “Yes,” Peter whined, all needy and high-pitched as he gripped at the bottom of Tony’s jacket like a lifeline.

“Wow, are those sounds for me, baby?” Tony playfully grinned, and pressed his hand against Peter’s zipper, happily watching the younger boy squirm beneath the touch.

Peter gasped, his body instinctively tensing at the spark of pleasure that rushed his senses. Sure, there were two layers of clothes between Tony’s hand and Peter’s budding erection, but it still felt amazing. He nodded as a desperate Mhmm fell from his lips and he used all his willpower to keep his hips from grinding up against Tony’s hand. “Tony,” Peter moaned, his half-lidded gaze bouncing between Tony’s hand and Tony’s lips.

Then, they were kissing again. It was deeper; eager; hotter and somehow, Peter found himself being pushed down by the strength of Tony’s hold. His back fell against the sheets and Tony hovered above him. Their mouths unbreaking as Tony’s hand worked at Peter’s jean button, and then his zipper, and soon, Tony was tugging at the waist of the denim.

The sensation of Tony’s trail of kisses from his mouth to his neck was one thing, but thoughts of Tony’s hand stroking him bare were enough to reduce Peter to a breathy, whiny mess.

Tony paused to kiss the spot just above Peter’s collarbone, sucking hard enough that a dark red mark was left in his wake. He pulled away, then, admiring his work paired the aroused expression on Peter’s face. He grinned, his voice playful as he whispered, “You like that, baby?”

Did Peter like this? Yes. He unequivocally liked this. He fucking liked this. He didn’t think the word ‘like’ could even begin to convey how much. So he lifted his hand from the sheets, bringing his fingertips to Tony’s cheek, down his neck, over the collar of his t-shirt, across his chest, and beneath the loose fabric of the bottom hem. He kept his eyes locked on Tony the entire time, watching the small hitched breaths and the barely noticeable flinches as he skimmed his hand up Tony’s shirt.

And just as Tony hooked his finger in the elastic of Peter’s boxers, and Peter parted his lips to answer, the sound of the front door opening rippled through the apartment.

“Peter!” It was Aunt May’s voice. “I’m home early! Are you here?”

Fuck, May’s back. A collective expression shared by both boys that killed any and all arousal.

“Yes! Hold on, I’ll be right there!” Peter yelled back, frantically adjusting his clothes and hair and – oh god – he smells like Tony and his shirt didn’t quite cover the hickey on his neck and why the fuck is May home so early? “What do we do?” He whispered in a panic.

“Relax,” Tony smiled, letting out a small laugh. “I’ll just go say hi.” He calmly said as he adjusted himself in the mirror before starting towards the door.

“W-Wait, Tony-  I’m- I’m still grounded!” Peter whisper screamed, but that didn’t stop Tony from walking out into the living room, so Peter had no choice but to reluctantly trail behind the bad boy.

“Peter, who’s this?” May asked as she took off her jacket and shoes.

“I’m Tony, ma’am.” He stepped forward, extending his hand. “Tony Stark.”

May smiled and shook his hand, “Nice to meet you, Tony.” She said, flashing Peter an all too familiar you-are-in-so-much-trouble look.

“May, I-” Peter stepped forward. “I can explain.”

“Yes you will, but it can wait until later.” May crossed her arms, “Now, young man, what on earth happened to your face? Sit down,” She guided Tony to a dining chair before disappearing into the kitchen and emerging with a bag of ice wrapped in a towel. “Here, hold this against it.”

“It’s nothing.” Tony shrugged, taking the ice bag with a thankful smile.

May propped her hand against her waist and nodded, “Well, if nothing keeps happening, you come and tell me. Understood?”

“Um-” Tony looked taken aback but, despite his confusion, he nodded, “Okay, yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, and you’re staying for dinner.” May smiled as he turned to place a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “I want to get to know my nephew’s boyfriend.”

Peter blushed, “May!”

~*9*~

“Dude, are you sure you’re allowed to be here?” MJ asked as she pulled the car against the curb in front of Steve Rogers’ house. “It doesn’t look like your kind of thing.”

MJ was right. The bass-heavy hitlist was loud enough to hear through the glass of the car window. The lawn was littered with red cups, silver cans, and cars parked carelessly on the grass. Partygoers loitered on the front porch puffing smoke that reddened the whites of their eyes. This party was a far cry from the small movie nights Peter shared with best friends.

“I was invited, MJ.” Peter rolled his eyes, shuffling begrudgingly in the passenger side seat. He knew what she was asking – will you be okay here, Peter? “Tony is coming too, so I’ll be fine.”

“Of course he is.” MJ sighed, crossing her arms and shaking her head. “But he couldn’t spare some time to bring you here himself.”

“He had something to do with his dad.” Peter dropped his gaze into his lap.

“That doesn’t excuse him,” MJ’s voice was firm, unmoving. “And let’s be honest here. You wouldn’t have been invited if he hadn’t brutalized half of the people in there. Bullies don’t become friendly after being put in their place. They become vengeful. He should be in there with you now!”

“MJ, I’ll be fine!” Peter snapped because, even now, he didn’t know how to feel. Tony was violent – he understood that – but he couldn’t stand the constant reminders. “Stop talking about Tony like that!”

“Like what?” She challenged. “Like the guy he is. A violent, privileged asshole like the rest of them, who fights people for no reason, and who’s probably just using you fo-!”

“MJ, stop! You don’t get to talk about him like that! You don’t know him!”

“Oh?” MJ tilted her head and scowled. “And you do? After one fucking week? You think you know him?!”

“Yes! I do!” Peter nearly screamed. “And if you can’t trust me on this one, then just fucking leave!” He threw open the door, moving to get out.

MJ’s face softened and she reached to grab his arm. “Peter, wait! I didn’t mean-”

“No!” Peter put his hands up, silencing her completely. “You don’t get it, MJ!” He paused, biting the inside of his lip, holding back his anger. “You just don’t.”

“Fine, you’re right.” MJ sighed, squeezing the steering wheel and letting her head fall against the headrest. “I don’t get it! I don’t understand why my best friend, who was being tortured last week, would start hanging out with his torturers!” She sighed once more, her hands falling into her lap. “But I do trust you, dude, so I’m sorry. I’m just worried. Something about this whole thing seems off.”

Peter mirrored his friend’s sigh, “I’m sure I’ll be fine. It’s just a party and, like I said, Tony will be here soon.”

“He better be.” MJ nodded. “Please be safe.”

“I will.” Peter stepped out of the car, flashing a bright smile. “And I’ll be sure to prepare a full report on the inner workings of a Steve Rogers party. Tell Ned.”

MJ laughed, “You tell him, dork.”

Peter joined the laughter, his anger nowhere to be found in the lighthearted exchange. “Thanks again, MJ, for the ride and the worry.”

“Anytime, dude. Call me if you need me.” With that, MJ rolled away, leaving Peter to fend for himself in the unfamiliar landscape of a high school party.

Peter ascended the porch stairs. The front door wasn’t locked or pulled shut and, even if he knocked, he knew no one would hear it over the music pumping from inside. So he took a deep breath and entered the fray. The house smelled of beer breath and fruity vapor laced with the pungent undertones of high-inducing grass. It was dark and foggy and significantly hotter than the brisk outside air. The main entrance was packed with people chatting in groups. Nobody familiar, but the litany of eyes sizing him up said that they knew exactly who he was.

Panic hit quicker than Peter thought it would as he politely excused himself through the crowded hallway. His unmistakable nerves rattling through his body with each careful step. Eventually, he made it to the kitchen, where the only light poured from the dim yellow bulb illuminating the stovetop. The beer smell was stronger here, so was the presence of variously sized glass bottles filled with brown and clear liquids.

“Parker!” It was Sam’s voice. “You made it!”

Peter spun on his heel. Emerging from the crowds was a very stumbly Sam Wilson, who reeked of beer. Behind him was Steve, whose hand was resting against Bucky’s waist.

“H-Hi!” Peter blurted out. “I… um- I just got here.”

“Are you the kid everyone’s talking about?” Steve asked, stepping forward and throwing his other arm around Sam’s shoulder. “Stark’s new owner?”

“I guess,” Peter nodded. “B-But I don’t-”

“Have you had a drink?” Steve asked. “You should have a drink.” He turned to Bucky, pressing his forehead into Bucky’s hair. “Can you get him a drink, babe?”

“Sure.”

And, within minutes, Peter was cradling a beer. The condensation left his palms wet and the taste left his expression in disgust. Beer was nasty, but Steve, Sam, and Bucky were compelling and their ability to attract an audience was even more so. They rallied cheers and chants of chug, chug, chug as Peter downed his first beer ever. The rush of being the center of attention outweighing both his clear mind and the terrible wheaty aftertaste of beers two and three.

It was when Bucky poured the shots that Peter finally asked for a break, but again, they were compelling. So just this one shot, Peter, and then we can go play some games with everyone. The vodka was lava down his throat, warming his body and adding to his haze. With Steve’s hand patting his shoulder and Sam’s impressed look because – damn, Parker can actually hold it down – Peter didn’t mind the teeth-numbing lightheadedness or the floaty instability.

After Sam grabbed a full bottle of vodka and Steve took a case of beer from the fridge, Peter was whisked away. Towed along by Bucky as the group pushed their way through the hall and into a room away from the crowds; Steve’s room.

But inside was a nightmare.

Sitting around the room – some on the bed, some on the floor – with drinks in their hands and smirks on their faces were Peter’s bullies; Clint, Natasha, Thor, and Loki.

“Hey boys,” Natasha greeted them with a smile.

“We have the re-up.” Sam joked as he took a spot on the floor, pouring vodka into Natasha and Clint’s cups as Steve handed beers to Thor and Loki.

Peter froze and yanked his hand out of Bucky grasp, his fight or flight instincts screaming at him to turn and leave. “I-I shouldn’t…um- I can’t be in here.”

“Wait a second, Peter.” Bucky placed a hand on Peter’s back, stopping him from leaving and guiding him to a spot on the bed beside Natasha. “They have something to say.”

“Yes, we apologize, Parker,” Thor said, tipping his head and raising his plastic red cup. “We were out of line that day.”

“Yes,” Loki agreed. “My brother and I regret our behavior.”

“Yeah,” Clint nodded. “Same here, Parker.”

“It’s the same for me, Peter.” Natasha placed her hand on Peter’s back. “I hope you can forgive us.”

Peter was baffled. Even in his tipsy haze, he could see how unexpected this was. His eyes wandered across the group; the gentleness in Natasha’s eyes, the seriousness in Clint’s, the lack of spite in Thor and Loki’s. They seemed genuine? It was strange. “Is t-this why you invited me?” He asked, glancing over to Steve.

“Yeah,” Steve shrugged. “These guys wanted a chance to apologize and we-” He gestured to Bucky, Sam, and himself. “-wanted to hang out with you.”

Peter let out a small laugh, feeling less resentment than he thought he would – maybe it was the buzz of alcohol – he nodded, “Okay, yeah, I’ll forgive you.”

“Fantastic,” Natasha smiled and clasped her hands together, “Now, let’s play some games.”

The first drinking game was simple. A word game that punished those who fumbled their answers and Peter was good at it. The unopened can of beer he held onto was proof of that.

The next game was more of the same. Never Have I Ever in a room of people who have done it all. Peter won by saying he never had a threesome, which took out Sam, Bucky, and Steve all at once. It was funny; in fact, it was hilarious. He found himself giggling with Natasha like she wasn’t the girl who would trip him in the halls. He was bantering with Clint like he was never hurt by him before. He was cracking jokes with Thor and Loki like they never teased him. He was comfortable in a room filled with people he thought he hated and he couldn’t help but laugh.

During the third game, Peter drank half his beer, but Steve and Bucky had it far worse.

“Guys, I have to tap out.” Steve groaned, falling back against the bed. “I’m drunk drunk.”

Bucky laughed, his voice slurring as he crawled to lay beside Steve, “If you’re drunk drunk, I’m drunk drunk drunk.”

Steve joined in on the hysterical laughter. “Well, if you’re drunk drunk drunk, then I’m dr-”

“Okay, you’re both pretty,” Sam interrupted with a smirk. “If they’re out, I’m out.”

“That’s fine,” Natasha shrugged, standing from the bed and gesturing for the rest of the group to follow. “Come on, guys, let’s go play some more in the other room.” She grabbed Peter’s hand, guiding him to his feet. “You too.”

And Peter followed them – Natasha, Clint, Thor, and Loki – to another room across the hall; a guest bedroom, perhaps.

“Hey, Parker,” Thor spoke, his voice a bit taut. “Is Stark coming?”

Peter nodded, still fiddling with his half-empty can. “Yes! He said he would meet me here.”

“I see,” Thor nodded as he bumped his elbow into Loki’s side. “Then maybe we shouldn’t play this game tonight.”

“Or maybe you should stop worrying, brother.” Loki snapped.

“What game?” Peter squinted, holding up his beer can. “Another drinking game?”

“Yeah, another drinking game.” Natasha placed her hands atop Peter’s shoulders. “Trust me. You’ll love this one.” She smiled, taking Peter’s can away and placing it against the dresser as she guided him to the closet door. “All you have to do is go in there.”

“What?” Peter scratched his head. “Why?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Again, Natasha smiled. “We’ll explain the rules once you’re in there.”

“O-Okay,” Peter mumbled as he took a step into the closet, letting Natasha close the door behind him. It was a walk-in closet that was dark and empty, save for the few boxes stacked on the top shelves. “Alright, what are the rules?” He yelled through the door, but no response. “Hello?” He yelled, but again, no response. He jiggled the doorknob; locked. “Hey, guys? Are you there?” He knocked on the door this time. Still, no response but he did hear whispering.

Stark is on his way. This is so stupid.

Suck it up, brother. Stark nearly broke my arm.

And he fucking stepped on me.

Sit out if you want, Thor, but we’re doing this.

“Guys, I don’t like this game,” Peter spoke through the door, trying to maintain his calm but his palms became clammy and his fingers started to tremble and dread crept its way up his spine. “Can you guys just let me out?” He bit the inside of his lip. “Please.”

Peter flinched when the door swung open. A glimmer of hope rippled through him but it was quickly overshadowed by the dark expressions on Loki and Clint’s faces. Chills ran through him next as his body screamed, Flight. Now. And he tried running between them, tried slipping through their bodies, tried escaping but he couldn’t. Clint grabbed his arm and yanked him into the closet, holding him still despite his frantic thrashing. Loki taunted him – Serves you right, Parker – the merciless laughter burning Peter’s ears. Natasha played lookout, her smile was replaced with a scowl and her words a spiteful: This is what you get for sicking your dog on us, Peter. It was when Loki punched him that his urge to run morphed into an urge to survive.

This wasn’t the first time Peter’s been beaten up. The first was in middle school when Flash punched him hard enough to break his nose. So, when the punches continued, Peter knew to turn his head with them and relax his jaw. The second time was during a spring break school trip when he was pushed onto the ground and kicked hard enough to fracture a rib. So, when Clint threw him against the carpet and the sting of kicks burned at his sides, he used his arms to shield himself.

Peter learned from these experiences to tuck his head, bring his knees to his stomach, endure. But it hurt; more to his pride than to his body. And the laughter was louder, especially when Peter opened his eyes to see their smug grins searing into him. How could he be so foolish? How could he trust them? How could he forgive them?

When it was over, Peter was crying and no amount of biting his lip could stop it. He clenched his teeth and scrambled to feet, and didn’t bother to look back as he sprinted out the door.

Even in the party-fueled frenzy of the hallway, Peter didn’t stop running. His body buzzed with an intense need to put as much distance between himself and his bullies as he could. His eyes were burning from all the tears. His heart hurt and his mind was filled with flashbacks of every single time he endured their torture.

So Peter ran, and the only thing with the power to stop him was the sturdy chest of Tony Stark.

“Peter?” Tony’s voice cracked, his hands cupping Peter’s tear-stained, bruised cheeks. In the soft glow of the porch light, his eyes were a blend of rage and concern. “What happened to you? Who did this?”

Peter sobbed, clutching his sides where his skin felt the most tender and dropping his head against Tony’s chest. As the tears waterfalled down his cheeks and his frame trembled, he cursed at himself. “I’m such an idiot, Tony. I-I shouldn’t have come. I’m-”

“It’s alright.” Tony wrapped his arms around Peter, surprised when he winced. “I’ll handle it. Just tell me who did this to you.” He brought a soothing hand to Peter’s hair, gently threading through the curls despite the anger quaking through his body. “Please. Just tell me.”

Peter could barely get the names out through the tears, but once he did – a shaky Clint and Loki did it – Tony’s whole body tensed and his expression was overcast by a bloodthirsty cloud. His wild eyes were just as breathtaking, but there was no mischievous grin. Instead, his lips were pressed into a hard line, scowling with the rest of his face as he cracked his knuckles like he was loading a gun. And the way he pulled off that signature jacket and draped it over Peter’s shoulders was more cautious, showing his control even as he walked through his fiery rage. There was no nonchalant quip, no fanfare, just a firm voice saying hold this for me, baby. I’ll be right back.

This time, however, Peter didn’t just stand there. He followed Tony inside, leading him to the room where it all happened, wanting nothing more than to see that notorious violence turned on his cruel bullies.

The collective look of shock was satisfying, but the way Tony gripped Clint’s collar, yanking him to his feet and punching him in the jaw, was even more so. The punches continued; rapid hits to the face that happened within seconds of entering the room. Blood started dripping from Clint’s nose and mouth, and before anyone could say anything, Clint was falling limp against the carpet.

“What the fuck, Stark?!” Natasha screamed, moving to put herself between Clint and Tony, trying to stand up for her partner in crime.

Tony grabbed her by the shirt as well, “Did you hit him?”

“What?” Natasha snapped, struggling against the hold. “Let me go, you fucking psychopath.”

But Tony’s grip only tightened, his eyes conveying a murderous energy. “I said, did you hit him?”

Natasha froze like a deer in headlights, “No.”

“Then stay the fuck out of my way.” Tony spat, pushing Natasha aside and delivering a sharp kick to Clint’s torso before turning his attention to Thor and Loki.

“Don’t bring your violence over here, Stark.” Thor weakly warned, flinching just like before; just like a cornered animal.

“Don’t be afraid of him, brother.” Loki stepped forward between Thor and Tony. “If you touch us again, Stark, then we won’t be so nice to your plaything next time.”

“Next time?” Tony repeated with a balled fist and a menacing expression. “You should worry about your own fucking next time.” Then he continued, grabbing Loki by the collar and landing the same kind of rapid punches he used on Clint. These, however, were focused on Loki’s eyes that swelled and turned dark red as Tony unleashed hell through his fists.

Though, Loki didn’t just take it. Even in his arm sling, he threw his own punches and shoves. Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t enough. Tony tackled him to the ground, his onslaught unceasing. That is, until Thor stepped forward to try and stop him.

Peter wouldn’t have guessed that Tony carried a knife. Yet, as Thor moved forward, Tony pulled the butterfly knife from his pocket, flipping it open and pointing it at Thor like a promise, not a threat. It was enough to make the whole room hold their breath.

Except for Peter.

No, Peter knew it was time to intervene. Time to tell Tony to stop. Time to be the limiter. Time to step forward, place his hand over Tony’s, and ease the knife away because it’s okay Tony, let go, give this to me, let me take this.

And the weight of the knife was easier to bear than he thought.

“See, Stark? That’s why you can’t have playthings. They hold you back.” Loki laughed despite the blood dripping from his nose, or the press of Tony’s knee on his torso, or the shocked expression on his brother’s face. “Honestly, what a fucking bitch you are.” Loki taunted.

Break it.

“What?” Tony asked, his eyes flashing to Peter, who didn’t realize he said that aloud.

“I said, break it.”

And the sound that followed was gruesome. A chilling snap from the leverage Tony gained in pushing Loki’s arm backwards across his knee. A clean break, paired with screaming, cursing, and a litany of uncharacteristic tears from a pair of brothers. Then, a coherent threat from a fed-up boy who stutters too frequently. “Touch me again and I’ll have him break the other one.” A promise dipped in venom and punctuated with the tip of the blade poised just inches away from Loki’s face.

This time, Peter knew how to feel.

His eyes traveled to Clint, struggling as Natasha helped him to his feet. It was brutal – Peter knew that – but he was glad. Glad to see that Clint was hurt and Natasha was scared. Excited by the blood and bruises created in payback. Enjoying the scared look in Thor’s eyes and the pain in Loki’s. It was wrong  – he knew that – but he didn’t care. He let himself feel it this time.

Tony took back the knife and pocketed it before taking Peter’s hand in his own. “Let’s get out of here.”

Peter let Tony lead him out of the house and into the car, where they sat in silence for as long as it took Tony to calm himself. It wasn’t awkward or deafening or suffocating, it was just peaceful silence and Peter found solace in it too. A moment to reflect on the dark part of himself that bubbled over amid the alcohol-fueled confidence and the vengeful pain of his assault. A moment to notice he wasn’t crying or trembling. A moment to realize that he threatened Loki; that he chose fight, and it worked.

It was a satisfying moment.

Tony, on the other hand, seemed to take on Peter’s nerves in full. His breath was heavy with sighs and his hands were shaky as he frantically wiped the blood that stained them into the black of his t-shirt. “I’m sorry, Peter. I shouldn’t have- fuck, I did it again. The fucking knife. I- Are you mad? Please don’t be mad.” He dropped his head in his hands. “I couldn’t stop myself. I just- I was so mad seeing you crying and I-  fuck, Pep and Bruce were right about me. I’m-”

“I’m not mad, Tony,” Peter whispered as he reached his hand out to card through Tony’s hair.

“But I-?”

“You fought because I let you fight.”

“But that shouldn’t be your responsibility, Peter. Bruce hated me for that. I can’t-”

“I’m not Bruce.” Peter was firm. “I’m not Pepper either.”

“Peter-”

“Everyone keeps telling me about how violent you are. How you’re this dangerous bad boy that I need to steer clear of, but they’re wrong.” Peter grabbed Tony’s hand, interlocking their fingers. “When I look at you, I see a sweet misunderstood guy who drives me home from school, helps me with my homework and does the dishes after dinner. The guy that sings in his car and worries about his friends. The guy that chooses to use his strength to protect the people he cares about.”

“Peter, that’s nice, but-” Tony paused, inhaling a deep breath. “It doesn’t change the fact that I can never control myself.”

“That’s why I’m here. I’m yours, but you’re mine too. I’ll control you.” Peter squeezed Tony’s hand. “And, yes, breaking someone’s arm is bad – really, really bad,” Peter giggled. “But I’m worse for asking you to do it. I’m worse for liking it.”

“You liked it?” Tony smirked, holding their interlocked hands up so he could press a kiss onto the back of Peter’s hand.

“Y-Yeah, it’s weird.” Peter blushed, averting his gaze. “I’m weird.”

“You’re not weird, baby,” Tony whispered against Peter’s hand. “I liked seeing you too. Seeing you threaten the trash like that,” He smiled, pressing kisses down Peter’s wrist. “Seeing that knife in your cute hands,” His final kiss was wetter. “And seeing that look in your eyes when you did it.”

Peter’s breath caught in his throat, “Um…we s-should- let’s go back to my place.”

“What about your aunt?”

“May is out on a date. She’ll be gone for most of the night.”

~*10*~

When Tony and Peter entered the apartment, the atmosphere between them became torrid. Each interaction heated by the thoughts of what they went there to do. Kicking off their shoes with flushed faces, stripping off their jackets with lingering eye contact, walking down the hall in a suggestive silence. Their already rapid heartbeats ramping into overdrive as they breached the threshold into Peter’s room. The only light pouring from a small lamp on the desk and illuminating their excitement for each other.

Peter was nervous, but Tony was brave. The bad boy sat against the edge of the bed with a tantalizing smile dancing on his lips as he looked Peter up and down like a meal; undressing the younger boy with his eyes like a man starved. He licked the length of his bottom lip and grabbed the hem of his black shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion, letting the fabric pool against the floor. “Come here, baby.” He whispered, holding his hand out.

And Peter stepped towards him slowly, taking in the captivating shirtlessness and the unmistakable arousal it caused. He slid his hand into Tony’s, allowing the older boy to pull him closer, guide him to the space between his legs. It was there that Peter’s body buzzed with desire. All of the thoughts whirring through his mind painted over by his lust for Tony Stark.

Tony placed his hands against Peter’s thighs first, dragging upward over the dips of his waist and underneath the bottom of his shirt. Freely dragging his palms across the smooth skin, but stopping when Peter winced.

“S-Sorry,” Peter mumbled, his hands ghosting over his waist. “I’m just- the bruises are still tender, so-”

Tony shook his head, “Don’t apologize.” He whispered, keeping his eyes locked on Peter’s as he pushed the younger’s shirt up and pressed a kiss beneath his belly button. “I’ll be real gentle for you, baby.”

“Tony,” Peter nervously gasped, the simple kiss sending fiery tingles throughout his body.

Tony smiled, one hand caressing the back of Peter’s thigh, the other tugging gently on the fabric of Peter’s shirt. “Can you take this off for me?”

“Okay,” Peter whispered as he grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head, jostling his brown curls as he dropped the shirt against the floor. His creamy skin was splotched in dark bruises that ran down his arms and sides. And with once glance at himself, he gave a quiet laugh, “It looks worse than it feels, I swear.”

Tony’s expression turned somber, “I’m sorry for not being there.” He said, pressing more gentle kisses against Peter’s navel, carefully outlining one of the bruises.

“It’s okay, Tony,” Peter placed his hands in Tony’s hair, dragging his fingertips to the nape of his neck and leaving them resting on his shoulders. “Don’t apologize.” He smiled, his face a rosy pink as he lifted his knee, swinging it across Tony’s lap and sliding downward. “Can we- um… kiss again?”

As Peter straddled him, Tony inhaled sharp because he could feel the brush of Peter’s zipper against his own. He wrapped his arms loosely around Peter’s waist, dipping one of his hands in the younger’s back pocket and positioning the other on the side of Peter’s thigh. “Yeah,” He breathed out as he eagerly leaned forward, pressing their lips together in an open-mouthed kiss.

Peter moaned into it, dropping his weight until the space between their chests was nonexistent. His hands naturally threaded into Tony’s hair and his eyes fluttered closed as he succumbed to Tony’s practiced kissing. Letting the older boy’s tongue dip into his mouth; letting his teeth softly pull at his bottom lip. The moment felt electric, especially when Tony’s hand moved up his thigh, cautiously skimming across the tender bruises and stopping against his nipple, rolling it beneath his fingertips.

Goosebumps rushed across Peter’s skin at the touch. He inched back, breaking the kiss and staring down at Tony’s hand like it was magic. “That feels different when you do it.”

“When I do it, hm?” Tony flicked the soft nub, watching with a playful grin as Peter flinched. “You touch yourself here, baby?”

Peter nodded, his hands gripping at Tony’s shoulders as the pleasure pooled, causing his erection to stiffen painfully under the restrictive denim.

Tony scoffed as he pinched at the nipple hard enough to pull a surprised gasp from the younger boy. “Use your words, baby.”

“T-That’s not fair,” Peter dropped his head against Tony’s shoulder, hiding his surely red face. “You said you’d be gentle.”

“That was gentle, sweetheart.” Tony pressed a kiss against Peter’s neck. “I could’ve been much rougher.”

“Rougher than that?”

“So much rougher than that,” Tony whispered against Peter’s ear.

Peter shivered and turned his head to whisper back, a low and fervid, “Can you show me?”

And without warning, Tony clutched the underside of Peter’s thighs and stood, lifting the younger boy, who gasped in surprise and reactively locked his legs around Tony’s waist. Then, Tony turned and slowly lowered Peter against the sheets, positioning himself between Peter’s spread legs. “Let’s start by getting rid of these.” He said as he popped open the button and zipper and tugged, pulling the jeans and boxers together.

“B-Both?” Peter’s eyes when wide and his hands shot down to cover his now freed erection.

“Yes, both.” Tony gave a soft laugh as he finished pulling the clothes off, tossing them aside. “Move your hands, baby. Let me look at you.” And Tony watched intently as Peter moved his hands away. He watched as Peter’s chest flushed just like his face does. Watched the cute way Peter’s erection twitched in the open air. It was a fucking mouth-watering sight.

As for Peter, his mind brimmed with want, and nerves, and Tony. This was his first time being completely bare in front of someone else; someone whose half-lidded eyes were intense with longing and whose fingers were making their way to his mouth.

“Open,” Tony commanded and Peter obliged, parting his lips and letting the older boy’s fingers slide into his mouth. “Good, now suck.”

And Peter did; closing his lips and sucking, massaging the pad of his tongue against the two digits. He tried to keep his eyes trained on Tony’s but sometimes they would wander downward, across the contour of the older boy’s muscles and – fuck – suddenly, Tony’s fingers pushed deeper, probing the back of his throat, making him cough.

Peter’s hands shot up, pulling Tony’s fingers from his mouth. “W-What are you doing?”

“Showing you how deep I want to shove my dick.” Tony grinned as he nudged his wet fingers against the head of Peter’s erection, mixing the saliva and pre-cum before smearing them down the shaft. “That okay, baby?”

Peter breathed a harsh, “Y-Yes.” A wave of pleasure rocking through his body at the touch. His hips jolting upward and his head lolling back against the pillow, moaning as Tony began his torturously slow strokes.

“You look so fucking hot, Peter,” Tony whispered, leaning down to lick Peter’s nipple; kiss it, roll it between his teeth. “Looking like you’re about to come when I’m barely touching you.”

Tony’s compliment went right to Peter’s head, adding to the pleasure tightening at his core. If he was honest, Tony was right. Alone, he usually got there fast but, with Tony, he was getting there at light-speed. Already teetering on his edge from the blend of sensations. He was one quick stroke away from spilling all over, so he moaned a shaky, “I am.”

And nothing prepared him for the abrupt lack of touch and the intense desire it left in its wake. Peter’s hips flinched upward, chasing Tony’s hand as it pulled away, leaving him in a needy haze. “What- why did- no, Tony, I was there- I-”

“I know, baby,” Tony pressed a kiss to Peter’s forehead. “But you don’t get to come until I say so.”

Peter whined, pouting up at the older boy, with distressed and horny eyes, “Can you say so now?”

“Fuck, you’re so cute,” Tony smiled and sat up, shifting his weight to his knees. “But not yet, sweetheart.” He whispered as he undid his jeans. His toned body flexing in the dim light as he pushed his jeans and boxers down slightly, freeing his hardened length and nudging it against Peter’s.

Peter had to actively prevent his jaw from dropping. Tony’s dick was big – actually, bigger – it made Peter’s length seem small. It even felt different; it was thicker, harder and, maybe his feelings and arousal created bias, but to Peter, Tony’s dick was fucking perfect. A shiver ran through his body at the thought of it in his mouth.

“Having fun?” Tony interrupted and Peter froze, blushing when he realized that he’d been grinding his hips up, desperately rubbing their dicks together from the moment they touched.

“I- um.. s-sorry, I-” Peter stammered, bringing his hands up to hide his embarrassed expression.

“You, what?” Tony laughed quietly, ghosting his hands across Peter’s thighs. “Speak up, baby.”

“I- I just- I wanted to touch it,” Peter muttered through his hands.

“Well, lucky for you, I’m going to let you touch it all you want.”

Then, Tony repositioned them. He stood and guided Peter to lay with his head tipped backward off the edge of the bed. The bed’s height was ideal for this, he thought, as he aligned the head of his erection with Peter’s lips. “Open,” Tony commanded but, this time, Peter hesitated.

“Tony, I’ve never- Just- go slow, okay?”

“Okay,” Tony nodded, gently brushing his fingers against Peter’s cheek. “I’ve got you, baby.” He smiled when Peter parted his lips, “Good, now take a nice deep breath for me.”

And Peter did; inhaled deep as Tony pushed forward, pressing his dick into Peter’s mouth until it couldn’t go any deeper. Peter gripped at the sheets and squeezed his eyes shut, listening to the pleasured groans that fell from Tony’s mouth. And even though Peter was struggling to hold his breath, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

Tony pulled out slow – a string of saliva connecting the head of his dick to Peter’s lips, dripping against Peter’s face. “Breathe,” He whispered and watched Peter’s chest expand before pushing forward again. This time, he went even deeper, pushing passed the back of Peter’s mouth, causing a small bulge to show through his neck.

Peter coughed, his drool spurting out around Tony’s dick as he reactively pushed Tony’s hips away. He gasped and coughed again, turning his head to let the excess saliva drop against the floor.

“You okay?” Tony asked, dragging his hands through Peter’s hair. “Was that too much?”

“No,” Peter turned his head back. “I want it harder.”

Tony’s breath hitched, “Yeah?” He squeezed his hand, grabbing a tight handful of Peter’s curls, making the younger boy whine. “You want it harder, baby?”

As Peter opened his mouth to answer, Tony was pushing forward again, quicker than before, plunging deep enough to see the shape of his dick in the contours of Peter’s neck. And he held himself there, indulging in the pleasure of the younger’s fluttering throat, before pulling out half-way and pushing back in. He repeated this in quick succession, occasionally pulling out fully so Peter could catch his breath.

“This hard enough for you, sweetheart?” Tony teased, keeping his dick plunged inside so all Peter could do was moan around it.

And Peter loved it. The feeling of being used and the sounds of Tony’s ecstasy. He thought it would be difficult – controlling his breath while having a dick shoved down his throat – but once he fell into a rhythm, it was easy. And, soon, Tony’s dick was at its thickest, pulsating and leaking pre-cum. His orgasm was close and the way he talked about it made Peter feel hornier than he has in his entire life.

“I’m going to come all over you, baby. You want that, hm? God, you’re so fucking perfect, Peter. Look at how well you’re taking me. You’re so good, baby boy. Fuck, keep your mouth open for me-”

Tony pulled out as he came, groaning deep and shooting lines of cum against Peter’s open mouth and chest. And Peter’s never tasted cum before but he swallowed it like it was nothing, his throbbing arousal completely overshadowing the gravity of the situation.

“Tony, me too. Please.”

“Of course, baby.” Tony smiled, shifting their positions so Peter was sitting on the edge of the bed and Tony was on his knees between Peter’s thighs.

Peter’s whole body shook when Tony started sucking. The pleasure hitting him like it was a tsunami and he was the beach. The way Tony dragged his tongue against the underside of the shaft made Peter’s nerve endings tingle with fiery sparks of euphoria. And when Tony bobbed his head low enough to take it all, Peter swore he fell into delirium. “Tony, I’ll come- I’ll- I’m-!”

Yet, just as Peter took a step towards orgasm, Tony stopped. He gripped at the base of Peter’s length, viciously yanking him back to the edge, preventing his climax for the second time that night. But before Peter had time to complain, Tony was pulling him down and pinning him against the side of the bed.

Tony stared into Peter’s eyes and started stroking again, “Go ahead, baby, you can come.”

Peter immediately averted his gaze, unable to handle the embarrassment of suddenly being so close. “But Tony, I-”

Tony scoffed and lifted his idle hand to the underside of Peter’s jaw, forcing the younger’s eyes back to his. “It wasn’t a question, baby.” He whispered, squeezing his fingers against the sides of Peter’s throat, “I told you to come.”

So Peter came; a breathless scream falling from his lips as a tremor shook his body and his cum oozed all over Tony’s hand. It was an overwhelming pleasure – nothing like anything he’s felt on his own. And as he floated down from his sweltering high, Tony released his throat and leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss against his forehead.

“Are you okay, baby?”

“Yeah, are you?”

“Yeah, that was amazing.

“Yeah.”

And for a while, they stayed there, bodies pressed together in a content embrace, sticky from their passion and audibly panting from their ardor, but content nonetheless. Basking in the feeling of their intimate moment; an exchange of sweet nothings, a soothing caress, a medley of soft giggles. A litany of playful kisses, a cascade of fingertips carded through messy hair, a breathtaking empathetic chemistry. All topped with promises of tomorrow and the days after, where they belonged to each other.

-

The relief I felt after finishing this is insurmountable. Apologies for being a flaky hoe, but I hope you all enjoyed the read. Leave me a comment or feel free to hop in my asks. Let me know how I did. 

Shout out to my muses: @ultimatelyshippingthegays @benhardysdrumstick ❤️

Thank you for the amazing ideas. A bitch did her best. Love you all!

EDIT: Read the sequel here.

[emma-nation]

Within You - Bloodbound AU - Chapter 10

Summary: One year after defeating Gaius, the gang has finally found peace… Until a tragic incident awakens the ultimate and most dangerous threat they ever faced.

Genre: Angst/Adventure/Romance

Rating: T - Warning for violence and language

Notes:

- Sequel to the fics For You, In The Daylight and Without You. You can read all of them here.

- This chapter is my baby and I’m really proud of it. I hope you like it too!

- I probably won’t be around for the next few days (for BB finale included), so please forgive me if I take too long to post Chapter 11.

- My fellow writers: stay home writing your awesome fics.

- Dear readers: stay home reading and leaving your lovely reviews. We love you. Stay safe!

Tag List: @supersphynxsworld​, @lightning-fury​, @spacecarrousel​, @tigerbryn11, @gavryllo​, @annabellewerecorgi​, @whoinvitedalx​, @sheyah​, @imnotdonewiththeelementalists​, @scaryqueenbee, @bigmemesplz, @la-guerra-69, @kamilahsayeed-owns-me​, @morvengarde​, @tephy24​, @iam-the-fuckin-queen​, @voltos9, @scorpichoices​, @leavemeandmyshipsalone​, @jen825​, @andreear17​, @justejuste727​, @aureliaxj, @graceschoices​, @mrskamilxh​, @msuhailey, @zoe6111​, @noodledragon22​, @tigerbryn11, @shanuuh​​, @ilovetaylorswiftforever7​​, @ilovekamilahsayeed​​, @allaboutchoices​​  , @fal-carrington​​  , @scarlet-letter-a0114, @trouble-with-the-curve​​  

Kamilah

In her office, Kamilah tried one last time to dial her brother’s number. Voice mail again. She rolled her eyes.

“Until when are you going to ignore me?” She sighed.

She remembered their last conversation, a few days earlier. It was late night, he knocked her penthouse’s door repeatedly. When Kamilah opened it, Lysimachus was pale as a ghost. His heart was racing inside his chest and his breath shallow and quick, indicating he was in great distress.

“It’s her, Kamilah,” he told, when she forced him to sit down and calm himself. “Rheya’s the First.”

“Brother, she just left my place,” she argued. “I invited her for dinner. I tested her through the day. There’s no evidence…”

“She confessed, Kamilah! Right in my face. She’s not who you think she is, okay? She set up that whole situation with Priya. She threatened to kill Katherine… and me!”

Kamilah sat down and looked deeply into his brother eyes. They never lied to each other. And he was scared, truly scared. In truth, she had never seen Lysimachus so frightened before.

“Brother, I…” she grabbed his hand, unsure of what to say to comfort him. Unsure of what to think. “I’m so confused.”

“Why don’t you believe me?” He seemed hurt. Truly hurt. And especially obsessed to find a manner to defeat the First Vampire.

In the next morning, Adrian called her. An emergency. A vial containing a blood sample from the Tree Of Eternal Life had disappeared from the laboratory. They searched all over the city, in every place it could be. They conducted searches at Priya’s mansion and club, Lester’s businesses and even among their own Clan members. There was no sign of the blood.

Until Kamilah found it by accident, inside the secret weapon storage in her brother’s apartment. Lysimachus swore, once again, that it was Rheya’s doing. But all evidence lead to him. His old card was used to access the safest areas in the laboratory. The employees also remembered seeing him there during the night. The footage from the security cameras had been purposely erased. Everything pointed to one direction, he planned to ingest the blood to become more powerful.

An emergency voting decided it would be better if he was temporarily out of The Council.

“I know you’re going through a lot of stress,” Kamilah told him. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but I’m also not saying I am. Just, stay in New Orleans for a few days. Clear your mind a bit.”

“Not even you… my fucking twin sister!” Lysimachus punched a hole in the wall. “You’ll all regret what you’re doing, and especially who you’re trusting. She’s manipulating each one of you!”

Coming back to reality, somebody was waiting for her at the door. Rheya. All those days, Kamilah was monitoring her closely. There wasn’t a single part of her that indicated danger.

“Kamilah?” She asked. “Is everything okay?”

“Absolutely,” Kamilah answered. “Personal issues. And you? Anything I can help with?”

“Actually, I’ve seen something that concerned me. I’ve been receiving threats and I believe they’re coming from the Order Of Dawn. I think they could be coming for me.”

She showed Kamilah some strange messages she received and pictures she took of strangers observing her out of the window.

“Don’t worry,” she assured. “We’ll investigate and grant you some protection.”

“Really?” Her eyes filled with tears and she started to cry. “Sometimes I think it’d be better if I returned to Europe. I never wanted to cause you trouble.”

“Rheya, no…”

Kamilah felt extremely bad for her. She quickly called Adrian and some of her Clan members to patrol the city and make sure no Order soldiers were walking around New York.

———-

Lysimachus

Angry, Lysimachus trained alone with a punching bag in his apartment in New Orleans. As soon as he arrived, Garrus checked his mind. Rheya’s presence was beginning to take over the place. With his Fae magic, he was able to remove it. But it was too late, everyone at The Council was convinced he was guilty.

He had to find a manner to stop Rheya by himself. She should have at least one weakness. She wasn’t invincible. Nothing could be. In nature, everything had a balance. An opposite.

“Wow,” a female voice said behind him, “someone’s mad.”

“Katherine,” he turned around, wiping off the sweat from his face with a towel. “Do you know how to kill a bitch?”

“Stake her. Or set her on fire. Assuming you’re talking about the Queen Bitch, Priya Lacroix.”

“Not actually. I’m talking about the First Vampire.”

“Is she truly real?” Her eyes went wide in surprise.

“Why do you think I’m back here?” Lysimachus told. “She caused that situation with Priya and found a manner to put everyone against me, when I discovered her identity.”

“Oh boy, you’re in serious trouble.”

“I know.”

After he showered, they walked around the streets of New Orleans while he informed her about the whole story. Since the Tree Of Eternal Life, the creation of Gaius and Xenocrates to the First Vampire’s return, using of Amy’s death.

“Why Amy?” Katherine wanted to know.

“According to this creepy British cult, she’s her descendant,” Lysimachus told. “And also a Bloodkeeper. What in my opinion, is the major sign of their connection. Their powers seem to be very similar.”

“Have you told all of that to your sister?”

He let out a chuckle.

“Who says she believes me? If Rheya asks her company, she’d probably give her everything in a second. She trusts her with her eyes closed.”

They stopped by the Graveyard Shift for a drink. Nik and Cal joined them and became part of the conversation. None of them had any ideas of what in this world could kill a legendary vampire.

“What do you think her plans are?” Nik asked. “She seems harmless so far.”

“She’s playing cautiously,” Lysimachus told. “Slowly involving and seducing everyone into her game. Soon they will bend to her will or meet a terrible fate. But her main interest… I think she wants Amy. For some purpose.”

“If she’s truly a queen,” Cal commented. “Amy would be her princess. Isn’t it obvious? She wants to share her legacy.”

“A legacy of blood and destruction,” Katherine added. “After that, she’ll probably eradicate the human kind.”

They all stared at each other in silence. None of them had a suggestion that could help.

“Let’s drink while we still can,” Nik suggested.

After he order at the bar, Ivy approached the table bringing their drinks and heard the conversation.

“Well well, a conversation about a legendary bloody creature. My favorite subject.”

“It wouldn’t be, if you met her,” Lysimachus showed them a picture of Rheya on his phone. “Ladies and gentlemen, the real face of evil. Rheya Apostolous.”

“Legendary. Bloody. And hot,” Ivy grinned.

“No wonder why your friends are getting into her so easily,” Cal joked.

“Come on, guys. Yes, she’s gorgeous. But she want all of us dead or kissing her feet. Would you mind helping me to come up with a plan? Something that could end her for good? There must be something. A balance nature created to stop her.”

Ivy was pensive for a moment before speaking:

“Meet me at the library tonight. I think I’ve got something we can do.”

“Does it involve the dead?” Lysimachus rolled his eyes, wondering how many ghosts he’d have to capture. “Or necromancy of any sorts?”

“Yes. I was thinking about… a Ouija board. But better.”

“Here we go again,” Katherine looked at him and sighed.

———-

Amy

As a form to protect Rheya, Kamilah requested Amy to follow her to all places. She was more than glad to help, after all she and the Greek vampire had an immense connection.

“So, Amy. How is it going with your psychic powers?” Rheya asked while they were working out together at the private gym in her building.

“I feel great,” she smiled. “Everyday I gain more and more control over them.”

“You not only can enter people’s minds, but you can make them actually experience the memories, is that correct?”

Rheya’s expression suddenly changed. She stopped with her exercises, looking sad, nostalgic.

“Yes. What’s wrong?” Confused, Amy stopped too. She lead Rheya to the nearest bench.

“Would you mind… showing me my family again? It’s been so long. Time is cruel. It has erased my husband’s voice from my memories or the scent of my little daughter’s hair. I miss them everyday and… I can’t barely remember their faces.”

“Of course.”

Amy grabbed her hands, focusing on the depths of her mind. Suddenly she could see both of them standing in an ancient throne room, where Rheya was in company of a man and a little girl.

“At least now I have the evening free to have dinner with you and Iola,” she smiled. “My two loves.”

“Mama, I want to see your fangs again!” Iola asked.

“They’re nothing special…“

“They are! I want fangs like you, Mama!”

“My darling… No, Iola. These are just for me, do you understand?”

Watching the scene, Amy couldn’t avoid feeling emotional. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. For some reason she felt attached to those people. Maybe because of the tragedy she knew that would later separate them. Or even because it made her think of her own family.

When they returned, Rheya’s eyes were teary but she had a smile on her face.

“Thank you so much, Amy,” she hugged her tightly. “It was so good to see my Iola again. Actually… you remind me a lot of her.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, since young age she was exactly like you. Adventurous, fierce and she had a great sense of humor.”

At the same time Amy felt sadness hearing those words, it also caused her unexplainable joy.

“I’m sorry she was taken from you,” Amy lamented.

“Don’t be,” Rheya touched her cheek fondly. “Sometimes life takes something away from you… but it grants you something else in return. Sooner or later.”

Amy went home and showered, but the scene she experienced with Rheya wouldn’t leave her thoughts. Especially her daughter. They seemed to be so close, so affectionate to each other.

That vision triggered inside Amy an intense desire of having a family on her own too. She imagined having a daughter with Kamilah. She’d give her little girl everything her mother didn’t provide her while growing up. She not only would be her parent, but her best friend. They’d share good memories and start adventures together.

She texted Kamilah, asking her to go home as soon as possible. After lunch she was impatiently waiting for her wife. As Amy sat down on the couch, their kitten, Beruthiel, quickly jumped on her lap.

In the first days, Kamilah was reluctant about getting attached to their new pet, considering how short their life-span could be compared to theirs. Now, everyday she’d come home with a new gift for Beruthiel. She was literally treating her like a princess.

They could form a beautiful little family. She, Kamilah, their cat and a baby.

“Hey,” her wife entered the penthouse, “is everything okay? You said you needed to see me.”

“Yes,” Amy wrapped her arms around Kamilah’s neck. “I’ve scheduled a visit to Raines Corporation. You know, only to check how his research is progressing.”

“Oh, what research?”

“The one we can have a baby.”

“Only to check, huh?” Kamilah’s raised eyebrow suggested she already knew what Amy had in mind.

“And get informed on how it would work.”

“Amy…” Kamilah sighed. “I’m okay with adopting a cat but… we’re not in a good moment to consider having children.”

“Why?” Amy wanted to know. “We’re married, with a stable life, I’ve got perfect control of my powers. I see no reason to postpone it.”

“She’s out there. The First Vampire.”

“Kamilah, please… I even stopped having those creepy visions. She’s gone for good.”

“She’s not,” Kamilah’s expression was serious and certain. “I sensed her presence the other day. She could be the one who manipulated Priya’s mind and yours. And besides, there’s also the possibility the Order soldiers could be out there, getting ready to strike.”

“So…” Amy threw herself on the couch, biting her lower lip. “Didn’t you have to discuss this Order issues with Adrian? I could come with you.”

Kamilah stared at her in silence again. Her face suggested she wasn’t thrilled about the idea.

“It’s not the right moment, Amy. It’s not like we’re buying a new video game, it’s a life we’re talking about. I’m not bringing a child to this world, knowing they could be in danger.”

“It will never be good moment right? I mean, you said countless times you never wanted to be a mother and that you can’t stand children.”

Amy stood up from the couch, storming to the front door. She knew it was only another excuse. Kamilah would never give her what she wanted the most. She felt extremely upset and frustrated.

“Amy…” Kamilah interrupted her. “Can we talk about this?”

“No,” she responded, coldly and ironic. “It’s not the right moment.”

Alone, she took her car and drove directly to Raines Corporation. If Kamilah didn’t want to be part of this decision, she’d do it by herself. And in the end, if she still couldn’t accept it… maybe she didn’t love her as much as she thought.

———-

Lysimachus

After midnight, Lysimachus and Katherine followed to Ivy’s library. Trusting her was never the smartest or safest idea, but it was the only option he had at the moment.

The library was completely dark, until the very end of the building, where Ivy had prepared a magical seal on the floor, surrounded by candles.

“For heaven’s sake, what is that?” Katherine asked. “Please tell me you’re not planning to take him to the Realm of Death.”

“I considered it,” Ivy said. “But it was too risky, especially because he’s… biologically dead? So I decided to bring the dead to our world instead.”

“Wait,” Lysimachus interrupted. “Who are you planning to summon from the dead?

“The Two Sons. Xenocrates and Gaius.”

Only that name alone brought shivers to Lysimachus body. He hated that man with every fiber of his body being. If one thing he was sure, was that he never wanted to see Gaius again. Not even in spirit.

“Bring Xenocrates. Let Gaius trapped in hell, where it’s his place.”

“Okay, I’ll need to perform a ritual. Mind giving me some privacy?”

“Of course.”

Lysimachus walked to an armchair where he sat down. Katherine followed him. He buried his head in his hands, wondering what could even happen if that ritual went wrong and for some reason Gaius escaped the Realm Of Death and returned to life. By the side of his beloved Goddess, they’d rule the world, exterminating the human kind.

“Hey,” Katherine touched his shoulder, “what’s wrong? You’re shaking.”

“Gaius,” he confessed. “Only the mention of his name it… it drives me crazy. Have you ever hated someone so badly it consumes you, changes you?”

“Yeah, not someone. Something. A monster.”

“He Turned me, against my will. Besides keeping me separated from my sister from centuries. I can help thinking everything he caused in her life was a revenge against me. Even if he’s dead… the part of me he took away is never returning.”

“I can relate. That monster… it took the most precious thing I’ve ever had. And I will never be the same again. Even if I try. Part of me also died that day.”

“Katherine…” Lysimachus looked into her eyes. For the first time she looked open, vulnerable. “You never told me…”

“I usually don’t,” Katherine shrugged, fighting off her emotions. “I think I’m really starting to trust you.”

“Well, that’s a good thing.”

“Not for me.”

They both shared a laugh, when Ivy’s voice called them back. It was time to summon Xenocrates’ spirit. Ivy was voicing some words in an ancient language when the flames from the candles exploded and intensified, almost blinding them with the light.

As Lysimachus opened his eyes again, Xenocrates’ form was standing in the middle of the seal.

“What did you call me here for?” He snarled. "A man can’t even be dead, without being bothered by abominations like you?“

"We need answers,” Lysimachus approached. “About Rheya. You were her First Son, you must know how to end her for good.”

“And why do you think I’d help you? Especially, when you were all responsible for setting her free.”

“They didn’t,” Katherine intervened. “They didn’t set her free. They were only studying the blood, for good purposes.”

“It had nothing to do with the blood. It was… something else.”

“What was it?” Lysimachus asked, intrigued. “We didn’t know. And now, she has started to cause trouble. I need to stop her before the damage spreads.”

“I don’t know what brought Rheya back, otherwise I’d have prevented it,” Xenocrates told. “But if you want to stop her you’ll need to go after her husband, Demetrius. His blood is the only thing that can stop her.”

“Isn’t he dead?”

“Sort of. Rheya attempted to Turn him when he was murdered but it was too late. Her blood transformed him into something dark, without a conscience. A monster.”

“The First Feral,” Katherine concluded.

“His presence brought death to everything around him, including Rheya herself,” Xenocrates continued. “She was weakened by his darkness. So she sent him away.”

“And where is he now?” Lysimachus wanted to know.

“In the Island of Death, somewhere in South Pacific.”

“I’ll find him.”

“You will,” Xenocrates let out a sarcastic laugh. “But you won’t make it back home. The Island will drain all your life before you even get to him.”

“So what do I have to do?”

“My time here is over.”

“No! Wait!”

A strong wind filled the room, lighting off all the candles and the First Son disappeared.

“So what do we do now?” Katherine wondered. “How will we get to the Island?”

“I don’t know,” Lysimachus sighed, frustrated. “He said it drains the life of any living being that approaches it.”

“But he didn’t say anything about a undead being, did he?” Ivy suggested.

———-

Kamilah

In the beginning of the night, Kamilah went to Raines Corporation to meet Adrian and find out if he had any news about a possible invasion of the Order Of Dawn in New York. Amy wasn’t picking up her calls, but she found out she was at the Shadow Den with Lily. Apparently they invited Rheya for a girl’s night.

“Please, tell me she didn’t convince you to impregnate her,” Kamilah took a sip of the whiskey Adrian served her. “I know her, Adrian. She does that puppy dog eyes that make you unable to say no.”

“She didn’t,” Adrian let out a small laugh. “I showed her the research, but explained it’s still a work in progress. And I’d need your DNA too.”

“Good. How would it work anyways?”

“It’s a serum. First, you both must sign a contract. I’ll mix Amy’s DNA to yours and add the blood from the Tree. The three elements together will generate a new life. A new being.”

“Just like that?”

“Not really,” Adrian explained. “After I inject it on Amy’s body or yours, you will have to… conceive the baby, if you know what I mean. Like a regular pregnancy.”

“I see.”

Kamilah swallowed the entire glass of whiskey in one sip, trying to get rid of the stress the thought of being a mother caused her.

“What’s the deal, Kamilah?” Adrian asked, noticing her silence.

“I’m not ready, Adrian,” Kamilah sighed and confessed. “And I don’t think I’ll ever be! I’m 2065 years old. I’ve killed people and burned cities to the ground. How can I become a mother? How am I supposed to raise a child?”

“We’re never ready, but when the moment comes, it’s just magical. You’ll learn to be a mom, Kamilah. Together with Amy.”

She noticed how distant and nostalgic Adrian looked after that talk. It probably reminded him of his son, Charles.

“We’ve adopted a cat recently,” Kamilah changed the subject. “Her name is…”

She couldn’t get used to that name. Something Amy and Lily picked out from one of their geeky obsessions.

“Beruthiel. I heard about her,” a smile returned to Adrian’s face. “I was also told you’ve been using your penthouse security system to observe her when you’re absent. And that you’ve bought her like 10 different collars in a week.”

She only rolled her eyes in response and walked to the window. Kamilah started remembering Amy’s behavior that afternoon. ‘No. It’s not the right moment’. Those words were said with the same coldness and rage as when she was under the First Vampire’s influence, before her Turning. She was about to express her concerns about her dark presence inhabiting Amy’s body, when the emergency alarm of Raines Corporartion started echoing through the entire building.

“What is that?” Kamilah asked, confused.

“I don’t know,” Adrian ran to his computer. “But it doesn’t sound good.”

From the security cameras, they observed as a small group dressed in white marched into the building, inspecting every corner. Searching for something specific. Their clothes and weapons had a military look, like they were soldiers of some kind. Kamilah recognized immediately who they were.

“The Order Of Dawn,” she concluded. “What do we do?”

“I don’t know,” Adrian was completely enraged. “But I won’t be standing here and watch them kill my employees.”

Kamilah followed him outside the office, with her daggers in hand. The Order Of Dawn was known for their skilled and ruthless hunters, who would kill everyone that stood in the way of their mission, humans or vampires.

“They’re at the labs,” Adrian whispered, watching the security cameras from his cell phone. “They’re… torturing them.”

Kamilah glanced at the screen, observing the soldiers holding a blade against one of the scientists’ neck. Adrian hands were shaking in anger. His eyes were dark and distant. She knew it was useless to try to calm him down at this stage.

“Look,” Kamilah pointed. “Two of them are guarding the main hall. We can ambush them and steal their outfits. It’ll make it easier for us to get the rest of them.”

“Good plan.”

They followed to the main hall through the emergency staircase, avoiding to make any noise. Arriving at the company’s entrance, they waited for the right moment to strike. Moving silent and stealth, Kamilah took down one guard while Adrian took the other.

After wearing their uniforms, Adrian checked the cameras one last time. They weren’t in a large group, only 7 soldiers, he counted. He and Kamilah proceeded with their plan, entering the laboratories disguised as members of the Order Of Dawn.

“What are you two doing here?” One of them asked, as he saw them. “You were supposed to guard the door. Raines could be arriving at any minute.”

“He won’t, Kamilah told, approaching the group, ready to draw her daggers.

"How can you be so sure?!”

“Because…” Adrian grabbed the soldier’s neck, breaking it instantly. “He’s right here.”

The remaining soldiers pulled their weapons and circled them.

“There’s six now,” Kamilah looked at Adrian. “Three for each?”

He nodded in agreement.

Kamilah’s soldiers attacked her with their UV flashlights. She looked at them for a second, before rolling her eyes.

“It seems like you haven’t received the latest updates,” she threw one of her daggers right into a soldier’s chest. “UV light doesn’t do a damn thing on me!”

Using her advanced speed, Kamilah dodged their crossbows and retrieved back her dagger. From behind, she stabbed both of them at the same time. She looked at Adrian, holding in his hands the hearts of two of his soldiers, while chasing the last of them. Kamilah streaked in his direction, daggers in hands, going straight for his neck.

“It’s over,” she said as he dropped dead on the floor.

After checking his employees, Adrian offered Kamilah drank some stored blood to recover strength and heal any minor injuries.

Kamilah’s cell phone started ringing. It was Priya.

“I know you hate me. But sending the Order Of Dawn to my club was a slut move, Kamilah!”

“What? Are they in there too?” She shared a concerned look with Adrian.

“Of course…” by the sound, Priya stopped to shoot the soldiers with a gun. “Otherwise, why would I even call you? ”

“I… I’ll send some reinforcement.”

“Those were one of my favorite shoes!” The fashion designer yelled. Panicked screams were heard in the background.

“Priya?!”

“There’s no need, I think I killed all of them. Wait…” she fired the gun again. “Yes, now I did.”

Adrian was also on his phone. The Order also attacked Lester’s business. With the help of his Clan, he managed to get rid of them.

“Leave one of them alive,” Adrian ordered. “Bring him for an interrogation tomorrow.”

He hung up. Both of their phones buzzed at the same time with texts from several vampires of Jax’s clan. The Shadow Den was under attack, by the largest group of soldiers seem in New York so far.

“Oh no.”

“We have to go,” Kamilah rushed, headed to her car. “Amy is in danger.”

———-

Amy

“Another fight?!” Lily questioned, while Amy finished putting on some make-up. Rheya would arrive soon and they’d introduce her to the life in the Shadow Den. “And because you want to have children?!”

“Yes,” Amy answered. “I just feel ready for the next step. I want to start a family with Kamilah.”

“Amy, I’m sorry but it doesn’t sound like you. I mean, you guys have been married for only a year. A lot can change.”

“What are you suggesting? Nothing is changing between us.”

“You’re a vampire now,” Lily told. “There’s so much you may want to experience. You’ll have the eternity to be a mother.”

“Being married to Kamilah, I’ve already experienced a lot,” Amy argued. “We’ve traveled to so many places, she introduced me to a lot of new things, we’ve grown up as couple… it seems like the right moment.”

“Well, that’s your decision to make. But make sure you’re not using it only to mask your past traumas.”

Amy did have a family-related trauma. She always felt abandoned, rejected by her mom. Ofter she’d seek for affection in her friend’s families. The conflicts between them only got worse when she became a teenager. In many occasions, she made her mom cry. Which was enough for her to decided the should follow different paths.

Now she had built her own life away from her hometown. She had a great job, a loving wife and she finally got answers about her mother’s behavior and her origins. In truth, she was starting to understand and even forgive her.

Having a baby with Kamilah had little to do with that. Part of her didn’t want children before because she wasn’t sure she’d be able to be a good mother, based on her own experiences. Now she wanted to break that cycle. She wanted to fix things with her mom, and at the same time, have the motherhood experience herself.

“Hello,” for some reason Rheya was already standing in the living room. “You didn’t hear me knocking, the door was opened so I entered. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

“Not at all!” Amy smiled, dismissing her thoughts. “We were waiting for you. By the way, that’s Lily. My best friend.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Lily extended her hand. “Very nice.”

“It’s my pleasure, darling. Amy talks about you all the time.”

Amy checked her watch. It was almost time for Liv’s new show to start. Both of her friends had engaged in a conversation. Lily seemed to be nervous around Rheya, panicking and stuttering. She shook her head in denial.

“Hey, you two,” she called. “Let’s go!”

First, they gave Rheya a tour of the Shadow Den. She was impressed by the place, checking all the stores and attractions the community had to offer.

“This place is amazing. A mass of vampires, rejected by The Council, build all of this? Without any support?”

“They did,” Lily told. “We made some improvements and redesigned after we were recognized as a Clan by The Council.”

“And there…” Amy pointed to the male vampire coming in their direction, “is the man behind most of it, Jax Matsuo.”

“Hey,” Jax joined them, briefly nodding at Rheya. “What are you girls up to?”

“We’re headed to Liv’s new show, but before we’re showing Rheya around.”

“Rheya, huh? I remember seeing you at the Tribunal. You saved Priya’s ass.”

“Jax,” Rheya looked deeply into his eyes and grabbed one of his hands. “Your bravery, your strength is like no other. Building this place, protecting your people, fighting for your rights… it’s inspiring. You have my admiration.”

“Whoa,” Jax’s cheeks turned a little pink. “Thank you, but I had help of my Clan members. We were all part of this.”

“I… I…” Lily made some effort to insert herself in the conversation. “I created the Fangbook. A social network for vampires.”

Rheya grinned and grabbed her hand too.

“This is also amazing, darling. An online gathering of all vampires in the world. Your knowledge can serve for greater purposes. You can achieve great things. Never doubt your potential.”

“T-Thank you.”

Amy laughed and patted her best friend’s shoulder.

Together they followed to Liv’s cabaret, finding their reserved seats in the front row. That was the debut of a show she long planned, back when she still a mortal. She looked unusually happy that night.

“This place is crowded,” Amy told Jax, before the lights went out.

“I know, right?” He said. “It’s good to finally see a smile on her face.”

A dancing number started on the stage, Amy was very focused. The music was hypnotizing. She and Lily started to move their bodies in sync to the rhythm.

“Come on, Jax,” Amy shouted. “Join us.”

“In a moment,” he looked serious at his cell phone screen. “There’s something wrong in the tunnels.”

Jax didn’t have any time to leave, as soon as he got up a group of soldiers dressed in white burst through the doors. Amy recognized them from Greece.

“The Order Of Dawn.”

“Everyone take cover!” Jax yelled, as they started to aim and shoot their crossbows at the vampires in the cabaret.

Amy stood frozen in the middle of the commotion, her eyes registering the scene all around her. Vampires attempted to run, or even to protect themselves, only to suffer cruel and painful deaths. There was a lot of screaming and crying, while the Order Of Dawn chanted:

”The Order does not yield. The Order does not sleep. The Order shows no mercy… and leaves no survivors.”

She tried to locate Rheya and Lily but they were nowhere to be seen. A tightness on her chest started to suffocate her.

“Amy!” Jax pulled her out of the way, to prevent an attack with UV light. Considering the desperation of the moment, he probably had forgotten it didn’t affect her.

“Jax,” she returned to her conscience. However, when she looked at the male vampire on the ground he wasn’t moving. His chest had a big burning wound. Tears stated to fill her eyes as she touched it. No vampire would survive an injury of that extent. “Jax, please…”

“Die,” an Order soldier appeared in front of her, with a crossbow aimed to her chest. She fired. Amy stopped the stake midway with her psychic powers.

Looking around, she could see piles of ash all around the club, along with severely hurt vampires, struggling to stay alive. Rage started to consume her. She felt her eyes burning in pure anger.

With a grin on her face, she sent the stake back in the soldier’s direction. Hitting her right in the middle of her eyes.

“What is that?” A group of soldiers came in her direction, as their member’s lifeless body fell on the ground.

Amy could feel their hearts beating. The blood flowing inside their veins. They had no idea what she could do. They had no idea of what she could become. She had the urge to kill them. All of them. She focused, gathering all her power.

“Kill her,” their leader ordered. She jerked her hand, sending all of them flying. The heavy impact against the wall crushed every bone inside their fragile human bodies.

More soldiers came in her direction. She leaped forward. With fangs drawn, she went directly to their throats. Her hands also fought, tearing into some soldiers’ chests and ripping off their hearts.

“Monster! Monster!” They started to retreat and runaway scared.

Amy couldn’t let them get away. Not after what they had done. They deserved no second chances. Only death. By the time they reached the door, she appeared in front of them.

“Leave… no… survivors!” She yelled, mocking their chant. Her hands were engulfed by fire and she send blasts in their direction. She stood and watched while it consumed their bodies.

As they silenced, she closed her eyes. She could sense a couple of human heartbeats coming from behind the bar. Taking Jax’s katana, she slowly walked to them. They barely had any time to scream. The blood spraying from their slit throats soaked her skin and her clothes. She fed herself some of it, before going back to Jax unconscious body.

She kneeled right beside him, placing her hands over the wound. And that’s the last thing she did, before collapsing in exhaustion.

[ain-t-bovvered]

15X11 Commentary

I’M AN ASSHOLE THAT FORGOT I STILL HAD THIS EPISODE TO FINISH LOL.

Bunch of tired and caffeinated Europeans ( plus a sleepy American) scream together, and then die and try to get on with their day ( lol AS IF)

@smol-and-grumpy​​​ (Nat)

@dean-winchesters-bacon​​​  (Kat)  

@waywardbaby​​  (Zee)

@ain-t-bovvered  (Giulia)

Nat: 3

Nat: 2

Nat: 1

Nat: go

Giulia: lol that tapping tho

 Zee: The hissing again

Giulia: Didn t need the hiss

Nat: All good thing must come to an end

Nat: Ew

Giulia: This song tho

Nat: "Big Sam left Seattle"

Zee: He’s too mousy

Giulia: DADDY

Zee: Oh the snacc

Zee: Tf?

Nat: Ah

Giulia: AAAH JEEZ

Nat: Yum

Giulia: he had to have that deep voice. Damn

Nat: Who dat

Zee: Of course

Giulia: Yummy

Giulia: I hope the Winchester won’t kill him

Giulia: Wow

Zee: Ouch

Zee: Welcome

Giulia: MY BABY

Nat: Ah the other daddy

Giulia: LOVE HIM

Zee: When did his voice get so deep?

Nat: snorts, they really went right

Giulia: WHY DIDN T THEY USE THE PHONE

Zee: Silent mode

Nat: SILENT MODE IS ALWAYS AN OPTION.   I AGREE

Giulia: what a dad

Zee: Old school bitches

Nat: That smolder

Giulia: Change your diet

Zee: Damn. Does he really sound that deep?

Giulia: Jensen doesn t

Nat: Jensen doesn't but he does have a loud voice

Giulia: Compensating for last time’s kick

Giulia: HEWWO

Giulia: Agent Watts

Nat: Working a Case in Alaska

Giulia: Lizzo

Nat: I'm too old for this shit

 Zee: Jack

Giulia: AAAAAH BB

Nat: WHAT

Giulia: AWE BABE

Nat: BABY

Giulia: AWE

Giulia: DON T

Giulia: MY HEART

 Giulia: THAT FUCKING UGH

Giulia: WOW

 Nat: LOL

Zee: Stop shouting y’all

Nat: WE'RE ON A BUDGET

Giulia: wow

Nat: Two forks

Nat: awe

 Zee: Awe poor babies

Giulia: Snort he’s lactose intolerant 

Nat: I feel you Dean

Zee: Nuts is good

Giulia: Nuts is good

Giulia: Yeah

Nat: NUTS IS GOOD

Zee: He should shut his face

Giulia: Yeah you are

Giulia: THAT POUT

Nat: Sort of an accident. Yeah

Giulia: DEAN CONTROL YOUR FACE

Giulia: sounds like a job for them

 Nat: OH NO

Giulia: OH UH

Zee: He’s so done

Giulia: aaah not ready for cas reaction

Nat: CAS IS DONE

Giulia: AAAAH

Zee: I mean you can stab him but not baby

Zee: Oh shit

Nat: WHAT

Giulia: AW JACK

Nat: NO

Giulia: I DON T UNDERSTAND

Nat: WHY

Giulia: oh ok

Zee: A heart?

Nat: NO

Nat: JACK BB

Giulia: Lol those bar are always the same tho

Zee: Tf is that coin ?

Nat: Winchesters are broke

Zee: Two waters

Giulia: Waters

Nat: Two waters

Nat: PAX

Zee: Pax

Giulia: PAX

Nat: PAX THE SNAXX

Giulia: TO THE MAXX

Giulia: look at him

Nat: so deep

Zee: What she said

Giulia: He’s getting me distracted

Nat: touch it

Zee: Touch it

 Giulia: TOUCH IT

Nat: i'd love to

Giulia: don t mind if I do

Giulia: Average

Zee: Control your fucking lips

Nat: lol of course "keep playing"

Zee: Is this the deep voice ep?

Nat: It's probably a criteria to be cast

Giulia: Can he stop with his hands

Nat: I know

Giulia: When he was 4

Nat: Swinging clubs before you were born snorts

Zee: Between naps and snacks

Giulia: The triangle right

Nat: you saw it too. THANK GOD

Giulia: of course. 

My eyes went : ZOOOOOM

still me: 

Nat: I swear it was on purpose

Giulia: He’s so strong

Giulia: Oh

Zee: I think I miss important

Nat: What

Nat: that fucking smolder

Nat: stop your lips

Giulia: Yeah

Nat: fuck off

Giulia: What she doesn’t say

 Nat: oh oh

Giulia: I DON T LIKE IT

Zee: Lots of hands close-ups, I ain’t complaining

Giulia: ah

Giulia: Sam

Nat: Bundles of eggs?

Giulia: Witch hex bags

Giulia: IT’S REALLY NOT

Nat: ah

Zee: Does she really not know ?

Nat: OH, she knows

Giulia: Where is the snac

Zee: should have walked away

Zee: There’s one

Nat: What

Giulia: Ah

Giulia: MY OTHER BABY

Giulia: MURDER BABY

Nat: Wha does Jack want

Giulia: hearts

Zee: But why?

Nat: I'm on a roll

Zee: Sucks you in

Giulia: What he said

Nat: OnE mORe GamE

Giulia: I heard Daddy out of dean’s mouth and im not ok

Zee: I’m dying here

Giulia: NICE

Nat: He's so full of himself

Giulia: KICK MY ASS TOO

Giulia: SO COCKY

 Zee: Smack is better

Giulia: NO KICK IT

Nat: oh no

Giulia: AWE

Zee: Rodeo

Giulia: are we spending this whole ep with jazz music and pool

Nat: Sam so proud

Zee: Hell of an ep

Giulia: Stop that tongue

Nat: Apparently not

Nat: OH shit

Nat: He ded

Zee: The crinkles

Zee: I’m dead

Giulia: Dean will be happy

Nat: Dean won't like this. He just involuntarily killed a man

Giulia: Yup

Zee: Great

Nat: shit

Giulia: Yup

Giulia: Awe Sam

Nat: Sam's always so righteous

Giulia: Well he actually doesn’t seem so bummed

Zee: Annoyingly so sometimes

Giulia: Baby treat me right

Giulia: AWE HE GOT IT RIGHT

Nat: No, because he's really set to beat Chuck

Giulia: yeah

Zee: Awe his face

Giulia: SNORT

Nat: Ah Cas showed his badge right?

Giulia: yeah

Nat: Did ya see?

Nat: He was holding it up the wrong way?

Giulia: .

Giulia: PAX

Nat: She's the one who played you, Dean!

Giulia: the fuck he is

Giulia: Dark castiel?

Zee: A what ?

Giulia: With that black trench coat

Zee: I want cas dressed like that

Giulia: He should have had the black trench. In the promo he was

Giulia: Ok but how is Jack alright now 

Nat: Billy got work for him

Zee: Hello

Giulia: HEY SNACC

Nat: See. It's her

Giulia: AWE SO YUMMY

 Nat: He's bulkier than Dean

Nat: I CAN ALWAYS MAKE MORE SONS

Giulia: Can I be in that sandwich tho

Nat: A beach read?

Zee: Beach read

Giulia: Beach read

Giulia: Wow

Nat: YES YOU ARE BABY

Giulia: AHAHAHAHAHAH

Nat: TOLSTOY

Giulia: TOLSTOY

Nat: Tell her

Giulia: don t touch sam

Giulia: OF COURSE SAM

Zee: Oh come on

Giulia: HEY STOP THAT

Zee: Thanks for the recap

Giulia: so tired of people hurting my innocent baby ok

Nat: Jack's not afraid because he knows that he's gonna come back

Giulia: Completely innocent

Giulia: U like children

Giulia: Yuck

Giulia: Kill him

Nat: YEAH you fucking pedo

Giulia: AAAAAH

Giulia: DAD

Nat: so billy sends Jack out to kill those

Giulia: NICE

Zee: Dad to the rescue

Giulia: I AM NOT PREPARED

Nat: That eyebrow

Zee: We could use some more light

Giulia: SOB

Nat: Sammy you got this

Giulia: He is so worried

Zee: So focused

Nat: Liver failure... and she looks at Dean lol

Giulia: Liver failure

Zee: THE god

Giulia: Little guy

Giulia: Squirrley as hell

Zee: Welcome to the club

Nat: When you apes climbed down from the trees... aw

Giulia: Thanks

Giulia: Oh this is actually interesting tho

Nat: Get her on board and then go against Chuck

Zee: She knows Chuck

Nat: I mean

Giulia: All the gods

Zee: And when you lose

Nat: Dean lol

Giulia: YAS SAM

Zee: Learnt from my brother

Giulia: No stop it

Nat: NO

Giulia: NO

Zee: There’s always a catch

Nat: DON'T

Giulia: STOP

Zee: They will say yes

Giulia: OF COURSE

Nat: WHY DID KNOW THAT SAM WOULD SAY YES

Giulia: AWE SAM

Giulia: not to the Winchesters

Zee: 15 years

Nat: Ok, but now beat her alright

Giulia: SUCH HEROES

Nat: But like, she fucking lives in a pool hall. What are the odds

Giulia: I ‘m sick of this music and pool tho

Nat: Hate it

Nat: NO

Giulia: Of course

Nat: Are they gonna die

Zee: Fuck

Zee: They can’t yet

Giulia: Thanks

Nat: Ah right, still 9 episodes to go

Nat: Our luck will do that on its own

Giulia: Awe

Nat: Wait what

Zee: She let them out

Giulia: Sob

Zee: Our kind

Nat: Awe

Nat: She helps them

Zee: Make him play yours

Giulia: Make him play yours

Zee: Mojo back

Giulia: Awe are they back to normal

Nat: Awe

Zee: Yes

Nat: Good

Giulia: Dean stuffing his mouth with cheese

Nat: Scratcher

 Nat: lol

Zee: Porn

Giulia: Sob

 Giulia: What was that high note lol

Nat: Back to back double cheese burgers

Nat: Oh oh

Zee: Wait for it

Nat: Oh oh

Giulia: can t wait for jack

Nat: Oh Oh

Nat: OOOHHHHH

Giulia: SOB

Giulia: HEWWO

Nat: AAAAHHHHHH

Zee: So much hurt

Giulia: AAAAAAAAAAAH

Giulia: SAAAAM

Nat: I didn't think I would cry

Giulia: SOB

Giulia: NO

Giulia: STOP DEANP

Giulia: HE LOOKS AT CAS

Zee: Our son is back

Giulia: SOB

Zee: And you let him?

Nat: every day I wanted to come HOME

Giulia: awe Jack bb

Giulia: Grandfather

Nat: He's afraid of me.

Giulia: YES HE IS

Nat: JACK WILL BECOME THE NEW GOD

Giulia: OF COURSE

Giulia: but they just said that there can’t be no god

Zee: So it won’t be the Winchesters?

Nat: It's plausible that Jack will take over.

Nat: He's not God-god. He's Jack-god.

Nat: Ok, so promo then I need to leave

Giulia: UGH

Giulia: if don’t come I’m dead

Giulia: ...same

Giulia: Snort

Giulia: I need Jesus

Nat: What I say

Zee: March 16!

Zee: Hate it

Nat: Sob

Zee: It’s been established

Giulia: I just wish they could change the finale date

Zee: I mean why do they have to drag it like that?

Giulia: There are festivities or some shit idk

Giulia: The superbowl?

Giulia: Whatever

Zee: Oh that shit is on?

Zee: We have a month and a half to find a solution

Nat: There. He showed it the wrong way first?

Zee: Yeah he did

Zee: Lovely dork

Giulia: Ah shit I was writing here and look after he turned it around

Zee: Me too

Nat: Yes hi hello, this is Pax the Snaxx

Zee: Yes hi hello

Giulia: Fuck

Zee: I didn’t ask for this

Nat: Apparently, I don't care

Zee: Apparently you’re a bitch

Nat: Apparently, he's not been always a snaxx

Nat: Because

Nat: snorts

Giulia: Aaaaand it’s gone

Giulia: I love beards, my god

Zee: So fucking vanilla

Giulia: I can’t taste anything

Giulia: This tho?

....the flavour is amazing

Giulia: Yum

Zee: I can’t complain about this flavor either

Zee: Nat started chaos and now she’s sitting somewhere laughing like the evil bitch she is

Nat: No, like I've seen other pics of him and I will spare it for you. But like in the ep he's a damn fucking main course

.

.

.

If you want to get tagged send an ask HERE or to @waywardbaby​ or a smoke signal, idk whatever I’m tired af.

TAGS: @wayward-angelgirl​​​  @destiel-honeypie​​​      @mariekoukie6661​​​      @dragontamerm​​​       @closetspngirl​​​    @rainflowermoon​​​     @mattiecat​​​       @bunnybaby121115​​​  @aliaitee2​​    @jacks-word-of-the-day​​​     @4evamc​​​       @dammitsammy​​​     @legendary-destiel​​​   @winchesterprincessbride​​​    @destielhoneybee​​​​    @castiellover20   @ravenhg​​​ @evvvissticante​​​ @emoryhemsworth​​​​ @markofdean79​​​ @janndishsstuff​

[amaranthinecanicular]

hero worship

And now for our main story: a sudden and potentially devastating attack in Downtown Tokyo last night was thwarted by pro hero Red Riot of the Ground Zero Agency, in a feat of heroics so miraculous, it may have to be seen to be believed.

That’s right. Some experts are already predicting a dramatic shift in the Hero Billboard Chart, and after watching this footage, I think my antennae might be detecting a change in the wind, wouldn’t you say?

Ha ha, I think I’d say that pro heroes Deku and Ground Zero better watch their backs if they don’t want to lose their Billboard slots. Please be warned, this footage may not be suitable for young audiences.

[I didn’t realize it was @krbkweek2020, but now that I know, this fic’s perfect for Day 3: Tragic Love. Continue under the read more or on ao3. Warnings in the tags.]

:

one.

He dreams of things that happened. He dreams of things that didn't. He dreams about Kamino, and he dreams about hands reaching for him, and hands and hands and hands, and he dreams about falling, about his fingers not reaching Kirishima’s fingers, about reaching Kirishima’s fingers and watching them disintegrate.

It’s two in the morning. Bakugou is sweating cold. He is staring at his hands. They light up the dark with twitching firecracker-pops and they won’t—stop—

And then Kirishima, through the door: “I have them too.”

Bakugou’s hands lie still and quiet.

He gets out of bed. Goes to the door. Stares at the thin line of gold spilling in from the hallway, split in two by the person on the other side. He considers telling him to fuck off. He doesn’t.

If Kirishima is surprised when Bakugou opens the door, he doesn’t show it. There are sleepless purple smears beneath his eyes. His stupid hair, his stupid crocs. His jaw is set, and he doesn’t flinch away from Bakugou’s gaze.

“Well?” growls Bakugou.

“I could hear you through the wall,” Kirishima says. “I just wanted to let you know that I have them too.”

“Why the fuck should I care?”

Kirishima doesn’t blink. “I just wanted you to know.”

Then he does blink. “Wow, do you always sweat so much in your sleep? Dude.”

Bakugou tries to slam the door; it bounces off of Kirishima’s croc. He laughs, and Bakugou scoffs in disgust, but when he heads back into the room he lets Kirishima follow.

They—talk. That’s all. Kirishima is a fucking idiot, but he’s easy to talk to. They talk about school, and the new moves they’re perfecting, and the test next week Kirishima will need extra tutoring for. They talk about their plans to go hiking on the next break, and the prank Mina pulled on Kaminari, and can Bakugou recreate that one thing Lunchrush made on Monday? Yes, and he’ll do it better.

Around three thirty they’re still talking. They talk about the ash on the walls. They talk about Kamino. They talk about nightmares. I have them too, that was what Kirishima said, and it was like he was offering his hand all over again. I have them too. No pity. No accusations. I have them too—setting them on equal ground. That was why Bakugou opened the door. That was why he took his hand.

Kirishima dreams about the same things he does. Grasping for each other and failing to reach. “It’s never that you’re too weak,” he says. “It’s always that I���m not strong enough.”

Bakugou doesn’t know when he falls asleep. All he knows is that when he wakes, with sweat on his brow and shadows in his skull and his hands sparking and unable to stop, Kirishima is still there. He’s holding Bakugou’s hands. Nothing is burning. Nothing is turning to dust.

“You’re going to be okay,” Kirishima says. Like it’s certain. Like it’s fact. Like it’s already happened, and Bakugou wonders if he missed it, somehow, between the kidnapping and the rescue. Between the loss of All Might and the start of the nightmares. As though Kirishima can still see a future that Bakugou himself has lost sight of.

He hates himself for that, and he hates Kirishima too, except for how he doesn’t.

You’re going to be okay, says Kirishima, and when he says it Bakugou believes him. He promises himself that he’ll never tell Kirishima exactly how much he needs to hear it, but he suspects he knows already. Usually Bakugou would resent that. He doesn’t.

:

And now for our main story: a sudden and potentially devastating attack in Downtown Tokyo last night was thwarted by pro hero Red Riot of the Ground Zero Agency, in a feat of heroics so miraculous, it may have to be seen to be believed.

That’s right, Joho-san. Some experts are already predicting a dramatic shift in the Hero Billboard Chart, and after watching this footage, I think my antennae might be detecting a change in the wind, wouldn’t you say?

Ha ha, I think I’d say that pro heroes Deku and Ground Zero better watch their backs if they don’t want to lose their Billboard slots, Matagiki-san. Please be warned, this footage may not be suitable for young audiences.

:

Aiko-chan today at 10:14 AM DUDE GUESS WHERE I AM

Me today at 10:19 AM i think you have english rn??? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Aiko-chan today at 10:20 AM English can suck it my contact gave me a tip that the convenience store by my house has a very exclusive back door item so I’m waiting on a line that goes around the block

Me today at 10:25 AM oh you have a “““contact””” huh

Aiko-chan at 10:25 AM Stfu you know it’s hanakawa now do you want to know what the exclusive item is or not

Me today at 10:27 AM yes pls

Aiko-chan at 10:27 AM Red Riot limited edition winter costume figurine

Me at 10:27 AM JFKSJ HOLY FUCK

Aiko-chan at 10:28 AM Do you want me to get you one

Me at 10:28 AM GET ME TEN

:

Posted by Uwasa K. | K.O! Magazine | June 18

For the first time in a long time, (since the end of All Might, perhaps?) the future of our heroic society is uncertain. That’s why Knock Out! Magazine sat down with our favorite statistical analyst on all things hero, Takei Kazu! Join us as we get the scoop on the hot hero must-haves of the season, Ground Zero’s fall from grace, the future of the hero industry as we know it, and of course, everyone’s favorite hero, Red Riot!

K.O!: As always it is an honor to speak with you, Kazu-san!

KAZU: As always it is 100% a pleasure for me as well.

K.O!: For those unfamiliar, would you please tell us a little about your quirk?

KAZU: Of course. My quirk, Statistic, allows me to determine the statistical likelihood of any given outcome, in any given situation.

K.O!: You’re famed for your shockingly accurate heroic projections, but what put you on the map was your legendary prediction of All Might’s meteoric rise, would you say that’s correct?

KAZU: I would. And at a time when he was overseas and most others considered him an outlier at best, mind you.

K.O!: How could we forget! With that in mind, we have to ask: what insight can you give us to the future of our beloved heroes?

KAZU: Regarding the most recent UA sports festival, I’d say there’s an 80% chance that Aizawa Eri is the hero-hopeful to keep an eye on. Over in the professional hero world, I predict that Real Steel will rise one slot in all official rankings, while Deku’s rising star shows zero chance of falling any time soon. But these statistics are mundane—odds are you want my take on higher-stake situations.

K.O!: I’m sure our readers agree with you! Please enlighten us.

KAZU: Let me just say this: if Ground Zero continues on the warpath as he has, the country’s crime rate will see a dramatic decline. However, his approval rating will likewise plummet, as will the statistical likelihood of his surviving the year. I leave the public to decide if the tradeoff is worth it.

K.O!: I see! And can you put a rest to our readers’ fears of Ground Zero turning villain?

KAZU: In this case I’d rather abstain from giving any specific percentages, as I have no wish to cause a panic. All I will say is that though the likelihood is not 100%, it is not 0% either. On a brighter note, I can say with 100% confidence that the value of all Red Riot merchandise will dramatically increase.

K.O!: You heard it here first, folks: the gift of the season will be any and everything Red Riot, so you better get your shopping done now! Kazu-san, do you have any thoughts regarding the rumors that Red Riot’s heroism on May 14th will earn him the coveted No. 1 spot at the next JP Hero Billboard Chart event?

KAZU: That would be unprecedented given the circumstances, but as of right now I’d say chances are around 30%, and rising every day.

K.O!: Many of our readers are worried about the state of the hero industry. What do you have to say to them?

KAZU: Given Ground Zero’s current behavior, I can see how the future might seem bleak. Find comfort in the knowledge that if the Ground Zero Agency keeps turning out heroes of Red Riot’s caliber to counteract the Ground Zeros of the world, the future of the agency, professional heroes, and Japan looks bright indeed.

:

An excerpt from Echoes of All Might, by Tokuda Taneo:

Of course no analysis of All Might’s lasting influence would be complete without discussion of his successors. Many scholars, heroes, and experts smarter than I have drawn parallels between All Might’s famed debut and any of several incidents in Deku’s youth and professional career; just as many publications have compared All Might’s debut to heroic moments throughout Ground Zero’s life. These positions have been well-argued and well-defended. It is not my intention to detract from the accomplishments of either of these heroes, nor am I suggesting that either of them are undeserving of the title of All Might’s successor. Rather, I propose that there is a third hero who is equally worthy of the mantle of Symbol of Peace, and, in this specific instance, more worthy of the rank of Number One Hero: Kirishima Eijirou, otherwise known as Red Riot.

Consider All Might’s debut. That impossible, miraculous feat of heroism. Over one hundred civilians saved, single-handed. Do you remember the first time you watched it? Do you remember how many times you hit replay? Do you remember the feeling of hope it evoked? In this post-All Might age we find ourselves in, it may be difficult to imagine just how monumental a moment it truly was. No one had ever seen anything like it; it was unprecedented. It shouldn’t have been possible, but he did it.

This is what you must understand about the events that took place on May fourteenth of this year: what Red Riot did shouldn’t have been possible.

An alumnus of the UA class forged through particular adversity, Red Riot cofounded the Ground Zero Agency and proceeded to rise to number eight on the Hero Billboard Chart over the course of the next decade. He was well known for his close personal relationship with Ground Zero, and perhaps less well known for his exceptionally well-rounded performance in all factors contributing to his prestigious Billboard rank: an admirable number of resolved cases, an approval rating below only Lemillion and Nejire-chan, and an underappreciated record of social contribution, which included hundreds of hours of community service. Among fellow heroes he was noted for his friendliness and his straightforward personality. It would not be an understatement to say that he was widely admired, even beloved.

By all projections and statistics, Red Riot was an excellent hero, but let it be clear: what he did on the fourteenth of May should not have been possible. He was outranked by two of his teammates. His quirk, though undoubtedly strong, was not flashy, nor particularly versatile. If even one professional says they thought he could hold off four of the best heroes in the country, on his own, in addition to the rookies Axis turned, in addition to the civilians Axis turned, for three quarters of an hour, without a single casualty—to be quite honest, they’d be lying. This should have been a tragedy of epic proportions. The Ground Zero Agency should have painted Tokyo red long before anyone could stop them. This should not have been possible.

But he did it. And he gave us hope.

Does that remind you of anyone?

:

More reports this morning of Ground Zero allegedly assaulting fans. While Red Riot’s popularity continues to skyrocket, the current Number One hero’s approval rating continues to plummet.

Personally I think his behavior is a real insult to Red Riot’s name, Matagiki-san.

I agree, Joho-san. Maybe someone is getting a little jealous of the shift in spotlight?

Ha ha, your words, not mine. Let’s go live with Izumi-san on the streets of Tokyo to hear what the people have to say. Izumi-san?

:

Aiko-chan today at 10:28 AM Are you sure about 10 tho they’re like triple the usual price

Me today at 10:29 AM T E N ILL KEEP ONE AND MY BROTHER CAN SELL THE REST ONLINE FOR $$$$$

Aiko-chan today at 10:31 AM … :/

Me today at 10:31 AM wat

Aiko-chan today at 10:33 AM Nbd just. Isn’t that in poor taste??

Me today at 10:34 AM no way dude red riot was the people’s hero he’d want us to make bank

Aiko-chan today at 10:37 AM Ye I guess you’re right. Hey aren’t you in history right now shouldn’t u be paying attention

Me today at 10:37 AM fuck history this is LIMITED EDITION WINTER COSTUME RED RIOT

Aiko-chan today at 10:37 AM I KNOW!!!

:

GroundRiot Touching Moments Compilation ENG SUB 504k views - 1 month ago rred_zer0 20.6k followers

A little softer compared to my other compilations, in the wake of everything that happened yesterday. Red Riot, you’ll be in our hearts forever. TW: BLOOD, GORE, FOUL LANGUAGE

102k likes - 1k dislikes Share Download Save 11k comments Add a public comment

pastel gal 1 month ago Thanks @rred_zer0 for coming into my home and punching me in the heart 4k likes • dislikes • reply view 13 replies

gzrrrr55 1 month ago The joy and heartbreak this awakens in me is just *chef kiss* the perfect combination. @rred_zer0 you’re doing the lords work 2.6k likes • dislikes • reply view 33 replies

RazzleDazzleDeku 3 days ago honestly FUCK ground zero 2k likes • dislikes • reply view 12 replies

riotwaifu 1 week ago 4:16 do you SEE those abs UNF the world lost so much on May 14 T.T 324 likes • dislikes • reply view 9 replies

Lemonllion Ok i’m not the only one who thinks some of these clips are really personal right??? Like,,, is it just me?? Who else thinks this is kinda inappropriate??? 3 likes • dislikes • reply view 64 replies

Hana Spring 2 weeks ago ive said it before and ill say it again, these two are soulmates. fight me. 2.4k likes • dislikes • reply view 15 replies

sirthatsmyemotionalsupportbastard 1 month ago rip red riot long live groundriot 599 likes • dislikes • reply view 6 replies

:

In defense of Ground Zero Posted by wtrhse1212

So a lot of people have expressed disapproval over how Ground Zero has been handling and reacting to the May 14 incident. I don't usually like to get involved in this discourse bullshit, especially where it involves Ground Zero, because full disclosure: I think the guy’s a prick. If you follow me or know me from the boards then you know how I feel about him and his alleged treatment of Deku in the past. Those feelings haven't changed, but come on. The guy doesn't care for popularity and public opinion so he's not going to say it. Fine. I will.

Leave him the fuck alone.

First of all, reports have been exaggerated. Do a little research (and because most of you are lazy assholes I’ve included sources below) and you’ll find that he didn’t “assault” anyone. The worst he did was a threatening light show. And if that counts as going overboard to some fans, well, honestly? They deserved it.

I don't talk about this much but I've got some skin in the game. My parents were pro heroes who died on duty, and for most of my childhood, I hated the whole institution. I couldn't understand why people told me I should be proud of my parents’ sacrifice instead of being allowed to mourn. Why my family tragedy was celebrated instead of discouraged.

Thanks to Deku, most of my opinions regarding heroes have changed, but this one stuck. What happened to Red Riot was a tragedy, and it should be treated as such. That's not to say he wasn't heroic, and that his actions shouldn't be honored. It's to say that right now is a time for solemnity, not celebration. It's to say that it is a major flaw in our society that martyrdom is so encouraged. It's to say that Ground Zero shouldn't have to deal with rabid hero fanboys coming up to him and asking for a play by play of Red Riot’s death, as though he were a character on a saturday morning cartoon instead of a real person with real loved ones who are just trying to get by in the wake of his loss.

I don't blame Ground Zero after all the shit we've put him through. Leave him alone. Let him grieve.

TLDR: We shouldn't be encouraging our heroes to die for us. And we certainly shouldn't condemn our heroes for mourning.

View 4,337 replies 2,314 likes 16,554 dislikes

:

:

two.

An excerpt from HERO Tonight’s interview with Chargebolt and Cellophane of the Ground Zero Agency:

HERO Tonight: Joining us now are pro heroes Chargebolt and Cellophane. Welcome heroes, and let me start by thanking you, of course, for all you do.

CHARGEBOLT: Ha ha, you’re welcome!

CELLOPHANE: All part of the job.

HT: This is the first interview anyone from the Ground Zero Agency has given since the incident on May fourteenth. Would you mind if we get right into it?

CELLOPHANE: Fire away.

HT: Can you tell me about Axis?

CHARGEBOLT: Ooh, I wish Deku were here, he’s the one you want to talk to when it comes to hero and villain stats.

CELLOPHANE: Yeah, but his fanboyism is part of his charm, right?

HT: I think we all want to hear from you two. The villain?

CELLOPHANE: Well, as far as his history and personality goes, I can’t say much. I know a lot has come out about him in the past few weeks, but honestly I haven’t really been paying attention. I think all of us at the Ground Zero Agency have been a little… preoccupied.

CHARGEBOLT: Yeah, that’s one way to put it. Look, I don’t know where he came from or why he did it. I can’t tell you about his tragic backstory because I just don’t care. You want me to talk about what it was like fighting him, what it was like being under his quirk’s influence, that I can do. But he wasn’t the star of that night. That was Red Riot.

HT: Of course. In that case, let’s go back to the beginning. When you responded to the call, did you have any idea the night would turn out the way it did?

CHARGEBOLT: Hell no. They tell you to prepare for things like this, say it's inevitable, but I don't think anyone ever can. Not really.

CELLOPHANE: Yeah. Any inkling of how bad things were going to get only started when I saw the villain with my own eyes. Until then it was just another night on the job.

HT: Can you elaborate on what tipped you off?

CELLOPHANE: It was a couple of things, I guess. Not the report itself, that was vague, a villain with a personality affecting quirk that—supposedly—required skin-to-skin contact to activate. He had taken down a few local heroes. No casualties reported. But when we got there, the atmosphere—the movies like to put the big villains in downtown Tokyo, but the truth is, most of them know better. And the few who risk it usually don’t understand the lay of the land yet, so they get taken down pretty fast. Of course there are cases like the League of Villains, but—

HT: Those are few and far between?

CELLOPHANE: Exactly. So civilians treat it like a spectacle. You come to expect that. But that night…

CHARGEBOLT: Silence.

CELLOPHANE: Silence. No one. The few civilians we saw fleeing from the scene—they didn’t speak to us, they didn’t look at us. They didn’t even scream. Just blind terror.

CHARGEBOLT: Their heroes had turned on them. What else would you expect?

:

There are different videos. Different shots and angles that capture different moments and perspectives and emotions. Each of them have millions of views.

But the video, the one the news pulls clips from, the one everyone has seen and seen again, goes like this:

There’s a civilian hiding in an alley. The video opens with a shaky shot of her face, tear-streaked and wild-eyed. Her quirk is a thin film of slime that activates as a fear response; experts will agree that this is what protected her from Axis. She says that the heroes have gone wrong, that everything’s gone wrong. She apologizes to her mother if she doesn’t make it out of this.

Heavy footsteps. The camera swings around. The mouth of the alley offers a perfect view of the Ground Zero Agency landing in full force, fog billowing dramatically as they stand in such a way that will be ripped and framed and sold on posters for months to come. The Ground Zero Agency, the posters will say, in bold, dynamic letters across the bottom. Some will include the subtitle: Founding Members. Or: Together for the last time. None of them will be approved by the agency itself.

The civilian whimpers the name, Ground Zero, a perfect little sound bite of relief and joy and fear.

Ground Zero himself shouts down the villain. The man who will later come to be known as Axis is no more than a shadowed silhouette half a block away, saying nothing. The heroes ready themselves to spring into action, and then they go wrong.

The resolution isn’t high enough to tell whether the effects take in Chargebolt or Alien Queen first. A shiver seems to ripple through them at the same time. Then Alien Queen swings around and her hand melts right through Cellophane’s visor.

There’s shouting. Cellophane writhing, screaming. Red Riot and Ground Zero in tandem: Ground Zero setting off localized explosions to force Alien Queen back, while Red Riot ducks in and barrels her out of frame. In the background, the darkness lights up all at once, and the flash of electricity blinds the camera. The civilian yelps as the electric wave rolls out to shock her feet. The camera drops. More screaming, and Ground Zero’s voice: "It’s the fucking mist, keep clear of it—"

When the civilian picks up the camera again, Ground Zero is fighting off both Chargebolt and Alien Queen while Red Riot drags Cellophane to the mouth of the alley and speaks to him urgently. Steam drifts out of the melted ruin of his visor.

There’s no warning. Cellophane moves with unnerving, spider-like efficiency, and in seconds Red Riot is mummified. In seconds more Cellophane rigs a noose from the roof, winds it around Red Riot’s neck and levers him six feet off the ground, kicking wildly.

Ground Zero roars Red Riot’s name. He tries to close the distance but Alien Queen and Chargebolt are unrelenting, and his movements are backlit and blurred. He’s on the defensive.

“Riot!” he calls again.

A tearing sound. The camera refocuses: Red Riot, his body sharper than before, bulkier, geode. He goes Unbreakable and shreds through every layer of tape at once. His boots crack the ground. Red Riot roars, and beneath it is Ground Zero, howling with laughter.

“You are fucked,” he snarls, maybe to the villain or maybe to his teammates, just as Red Riot launches into the fray.

For thirty seconds: Red Riot and Ground Zero, fighting back to back. Thirty seconds: fans and specialists alike will narrow in on these moments with wistful nostalgia, this maneuver, that combo move, just look at how well they knew each other, how evenly matched they were, look at the breathtaking intuition, practically premonition, the country isn’t likely to see another superhero teamup of that caliber anytime soon. For thirty seconds, it is Ground Zero and Red Riot against the world.

Cellophane catches Ground Zero’s ankle in a loop of tape, and he hits the concrete hard. The mist sweeps over him. He rises a second later, still swinging, and in the background Axis tilts his head. It’s barely a warp of shadow, the resolution is so poor, and then Ground Zero goes wrong.

It would take a few replays at half speed to see what happens, that’s how subtle the shift is. He doesn’t even twitch. One moment Ground Zero is holding off Cellophane, and the next he reaches over his shoulder and engulfs Red Riot in heat and flame.

:

CHARGEBOLT: Axis wasn’t a big guy. He wasn’t flashy. He was just—a guy. Nondescript. Suit off the rack. Kind of scrawny. But there was menace coming off him. This oppressive atmosphere of bloodlust just, pouring out of him, weighing everything down. You could taste it. But we deal with a lot of villains like that, right? No big deal. But his eyes—

CELLOPHANE: They were dead. There was nothing in them. Just this flat certainty that he was going to kill us. He wasn’t happy about it, or sad, just—certain.

CHARGEBOLT: I tried to shake it off, but by then his quirk already had me, though I didn’t know it yet.

HT: Let’s discuss his quirk. It has become synonymous with his villain name: Axis. Would you call that an accurate title?

CHARGEBOLT: As accurate as a snappy buzzword can get, I guess.

HT: Our reports say that the bloodlust you mentioned was part of the quirk. The fog on the streets that night was coming from his body, and if absorbed through the skin it switches the morality of the intended victim, by the villain’s choosing. What was it like being under the influence of a quirk like that?

CELLOPHANE: Horrific.

CHARGEBOLT: You don’t know it’s affected you at first, is the thing. You still feel like you. Some—switch flips inside your head and you have no idea. You turn and attack your best friend and it’s the most natural thing in the world. And that little voice inside you that tells you right from wrong, that voice that you learn to trust the most as a hero—it only starts screaming after it’s over, and you see what you’ve done. After it’s too late.

:

Alien Queen tackles Red Riot past the mouth of the alley. Offscreen there’s the sound of hissing, audible even over Red Riot’s roars of pain. He’s already taken down the first responders, and Chargebolt, and Cellophane. The civilian is still clutching her phone, though she doesn’t seem to realize it.

Red Riot and Alien Queen swing back into view as Riot crashes into the side of a car. He double takes, turns, and tears one door off; a father and son tumble out. He tells them to run, and when Alien Queen tries to follow, he throws the door at her. A second skin of acid shimmers over her body and then the door is shearing in two, each half blasting into the building behind her. He doesn’t give her time to recover, follows up like a rocket, and if you slow down the video you can see them reach for each other, see them make contact at almost the same time. Alien Queen claws at his face, burns him from hairline to chin. Riot drives a fist into her nose, melting his knuckles down to the bone. She drops, and Riot turns and leaps and tackles Ground Zero out of the air.

At this point, the civilian’s phone has been recording for twenty seven minutes. It will record for nineteen minutes more. All of it is devoted to Red Riot’s fight with Ground Zero.

:

HT: From start to end, the fight went on for forty three minutes. That’s forty three minutes of Red Riot holding off his teammates—fellow Top Twenty heroes—as well as amateur hero first responders and hostile civilians. How is it that in all that time no one came to provide back up?

CELLOPHANE: There were a lot of different factors. A big one was poor communication. There was no one immediately in the area—the villain had already taken over the local heroes, and no one thought the Ground Zero Agency wouldn’t be able to handle it. By the time our call for backup got out, the closest hero was ten minutes away, and the closest hero with a quirk actually suitable to combat Axis was even further. Two poorly informed heroes did actually jump in, and Riot was forced to handle them too.

CHARGEBOLT: Hell, we said the original report was vague, right? If communications were better from the get-go, if we had known what we were walking into, everything would have been different. We were led to believe that the Axis quirk required skin-to-skin contact. Red Riot fights most often in close quarters, so we suggested he take the night early.

CELLOPHANE: It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it, or that he’d be a risk or a liability—he said he wouldn’t let the villain touch him and that was that. It was just… he’d had a great week, you know? Look back at that week’s stats, he was killing it. He deserved a break. We said we could handle it. But he just did that signature move of his—that fist bump thing, you’ve seen it, right? And he insisted.

CHARGEBOLT: And we just… let him.

HT: And thank goodness you did.

CHARGEBOLT: Right. Thank goodness.

:

As the fight goes on Red Riot’s skin chips off in fractals, from his arms, from his chest, slivers at first and then in great shattered chunks. He never stops. The wet red flesh beneath crystallizes before the fog can touch it. He never stops.

:

HT: In the weeks since the incident, Ground Zero has become something of a phenomenon. He was the only party involved not to take a leave of absence after the fact. Crime rate is in an exponential decline, due directly to his involvement. But his approval rating has declined as well, and he refuses to give a statement.

CELLOPHANE: Ground Zero has always cared more about doing good work than looking or sounding good doing it. It’s something we at the agency have always admired.

HT: Speaking of, the Ground Zero Agency has recently received criticism for its response to an incident involving Ground Zero and a handful of fans. Do you have any comment on this?

CHARGEBOLT: Comments. Oh, we have comments—

CELLOPHANE: As Alien Queen said in the agency’s official statement, we apologize for any emotional distress those involved may have experienced, but we stand with Ground Zero.

HT: There are rumors of the suspension of Ground Zero’s license. Would you care to comment?

CELLOPHANE: No comment.

CHARGEBOLT: Yes, comment. Put aside the fact that Ground Zero did nothing wrong and consider the fact that this world needs Ground Zero, now more than ever. Anyone calling for his license—the Hero Public Safety Commission, the public, the media—is just stupid.

HT: And what of the recent statistics stating that Ground Zero’s chances of survival have decreased dramatically?

CHARGEBOLT: Kazu is a hack, and so is K.O. Those reports aren’t official.

HT: But it is a compelling report.

CELLOPHANE: An unofficial report. No comment.

HT: Of course. And what of the leaked reports that the villain rate of survival has decreased dramatically when apprehended by Ground Zero?

CHARGEBOLT: That’s not…

CELLOPHANE: Those reports aren’t official either. We have no comment.

:

The young civilian woman leans out of the alley, the phone leaning with her. She’s looking for an opening to run. There are six minutes left. She takes one step. Then another. Ground Zero drops before her on the third, and she yelps, stumbles back; the camera focuses on advancing boots and then the video smears into hot color as the civilian is lifted off her feet. There is one long, nauseous second filled with nothing but screaming, and screaming, and screaming--

Riot charges into the alley, and Ground Zero drops the civilian to spin and fire two Howitzers at point-blank range.

The smoke clears. In frame, on a sharp angle from the ground: Red Riot’s ravaged back, wet muscle exposed and blistering in the heat. But he’s standing, and his hands are gripping Ground Zero’s hands. Muted explosions discharge between their palms. Neither gives ground.

“You’re going to be okay,” Riot grunts. He is speaking to the civilian. “You’re going to get out of this, I promise—”

“Worry about yourself,” barks Ground Zero.

Riot grunts, and then he inhales, a slow, scraping, shuddering sound. The blistered flesh hardens, and he roars, and slams Ground Zero into the wall with such force that the gauntlets smash cavities into the brickface. Ground Zero thrashes and snarls but Riot holds fast.

“Wake up!” he shouts, in a voice like gravel. “Snap out of it! You’re the number one hero, aren’t you?”

Ground Zero bucks; Riot keeps the gauntlets pinned with his weight. The camera can’t catch their faces. There is only Riot’s head bent low to Ground Zero’s ear. Only Ground Zero’s wild blond hair over Red Riot’s shoulder.

“Come back to me,” Riot says, low and urgent. They are the last words anyone but Ground Zero will ever hear him say. “Wake up. Come back to me.”

Ground Zero’s hands, twitching and sparking. His snarling shouts become snarling breaths. The thrashing slows, then stills. Riot’s voice drops in volume and rises in intensity; the phone can no longer pick up the words. One of his hands drops from Ground Zero’s gauntlet to brace on the juncture of his shoulder and neck, pull himself closer. His thumb is pressed into Ground Zero’s jaw. There are wispy, barely-there sounds of the civilian trying not to breathe.

Ground Zero’s arm comes free of the wall with barely a whisper of brick and mortar. His head tips to rest against Red Riot’s, temple to temple, and when he speaks, he sounds very tired.

“AP Shot,” he says, and the light is blinding.

:

HT: Since the incident many have lauded Red Riot as the rightful Number One Hero. Others argue that one act of heroism, however exceptional, does not outweigh a career of heroics, as in the case of All Might, current top hero Deku, and your very own Ground Zero. Where do you stand?

CHARGEBOLT: Are you kidding me?

CELLOPHANE: Chargebolt—

CHARGEBOLT: No, I’m sorry, are you kidding me right now? You’ve seen the footage, right? Of course you have, you all have. How is this even a question? Deku and Ground Zero are top notch, no doubt, but when it comes to being a straight up hero? Everything that entails? That’s Red Riot. The full package. A career of heroics, what kind of bullshit—try a lifetime of heroics, and half of it no one remembers because it happened before he even got his license and the other half no one knows because, what, it wasn't flashy enough? No one cares about how he helped old people with their groceries or found missing pets or spoke at schools about self confidence and bullying or, or how he encouraged everyone he ever met to be better. Just—better. He was my hero before that night and he better be everyone’s hero afterward.

CELLOPHANE: Charge…

CHARGEBOLT: I'm fine! I'm fine. Sorry. I got a little—I'm fine.

HT: …Well, I can’t speak for everyone, but Red Riot definitely is my hero. Thank you both for speaking with me today. Please continue to take care of us.

CELLOPHANE: Thank you for having us.

CHARGEBOLT: Yeah. Yeah, thank you.

:

The light fades. The cracked lens focuses. There is Ground Zero, and there is Red Riot. They’re holding each other. There is a crater in Red Riot’s chest.

“No,” says the civilian. “No.”

Riot’s body is slack in Ground Zero’s arms. Smoke trickles from the entry wound and plumes from the exit wound, and below them, at their knees, the mist is lapping. Ground Zero scrapes a breath into his lungs. He clutches Riot close with one arm, and raises the other against the civilian. Her breath catches.

Two hands come up to frame Ground Zero’s face. Ground Zero falters, and Red Riot cracks their skulls together.

Ground Zero collapses in a nerveless plummet. Red Riot catches him. The hollow in his chest is ragged, seared flesh and bloody red stone. He lowers Ground Zero and then reaches for the civilian, and when they finally leave the alley he curls around her, but there’s no need. There is no one left to fight.

On the other end of the street, like a smear of ash against the burning city, stands Axis, in exactly the same place he’s been all night. When Riot takes a step toward him, the civilian grabs his hand.

“Red Riot,” she says, a warning, a plea, but he just smiles at her. He tries.

He staggers over. Axis doesn’t move. The civilian doesn’t move. Riot is barely standing—when he reaches Axis he almost falls, and has to brace against Axis’s shoulders. Axis watches him. He watches him cough and cough and crumble all over. He watches him draw back a fist and he keeps watching, and he keeps watching, and Riot sinks the fist into his solar plexus, and then it’s done. Axis crumples. The mist dissipates. All that’s left is Red Riot, standing against the sky.

“Riot,” the civilian whispers.

Red Riot falls.

The civilian slips to her knees. There is the sound of movement off camera, a groan, and then an animal cry. Ground Zero blasts past her. His body blocks Red Riot from view, and he’s shouting, he’s screaming, but the civilian’s voice is closer, clearer, and drowns him out:

“Riot,” she whispers. “Riot. Riot.”

The phone slips from her fingers. The lens shatters, and the video ends.

:

:

three.

“Do you ever think about it?”

Kaminari’s eyes are a little too wide. His fingers are twitching, sparking. Bakugou is on patrol because he’s always on patrol. They’re working out a schedule to keep him company.

Kaminari says, “Like, everything, obviously, but specifically do you ever think about the fact that we killed him? Everyone decided to scapegoat Bakugou, but we did that. We all did that. And they still cheer for me in the streets. Do you ever think about that?”

:

The first time Izuku went to Kacchan and Kirishima’s apartment was for a housewarming party.

It was a private thing, only a handful of their closest friends. Izuku bought them a toaster. Kacchan blew it up because he decided he liked the toaster from Sero better. They had champagne, and Kirishima handed out spare keys. When Izuku teared up, Kacchan snatched the key back and detonated it, and Kirishima, without missing a beat, pulled out another.

Izuku turns the key in his pocket now. He knocks again—again no answer. The neighbors keep to themselves, one of the main reasons Kacchan liked the place so much, and no one ogles the number one hero loitering out front. Izuku waits for five minutes. He waits five minutes more. Then he pulls out the key and opens the door.

It’s a crime scene: something that could be an accident if not for the subtle clues that point to arson, the things that so carefully escaped unscathed. A pair of red plastic crocs sitting by the door. The workout weights. A framed poster of Crimson Riot. The alarm clock with two flexing arms poking out.

Everything else is melted or charred or black. There are holes in the walls where fire chewed through. The refrigerator is sad and slumped over, forever drooping where the stainless steel melted and cooled into its new position. The television is smashed and the chairs are ashy splinters. Most of the doors have been blown off their hinges, and the oven is a husk—if the stove still works, which Izuku doubts, it would probably just light the place up all over again. Not that he thinks it could do much damage.

He should leave. He should come back when Kacchan is in. His feet carry him further inside, to the wall of photographs, and his boots leaves footprints in the soot. Most of the photos are gone now, but Izuku remembers there was a subtle pleasing aestheticism to them, proof that Kacchan excels in interior design, as he does in everything else. There were snapshots from high school, their class and their teachers. Kacchan and him as children, brandishing nets and stag beetles. Individual candids of Kaminari, Ashido, and Sero. Beautiful landscape views that balanced out the portraits—Kirishima and Kacchan liked to go hiking together—and most of them are on the floor, now, glass shattered and paper warped and blackened.

Izuku reaches for one of the survivors. It’s blurry, tilted and off-center. Half the frame is taken up by Kirishima’s laughing face, while the other half is crowded by Kacchan’s wild grin flashing over Kirishima’s shoulder. Between them: Kacchan’s middle finger, flipping off the camera. They were the hero community’s best and worst kept secret: the pros all knew and the tabloids suspected, but no news outlet worth their weight could scrape enough evidence together to print a story. They didn’t wear rings; there was no PDA. They took painstaking care to ensure that no one knew they lived together. Eventually the hurricane eye of the hero newscycle moved on, but now they’ve picked it up again, determined to wring as much drama from the story as possible. Izuku’s eyes feel hot.

The smell hits him like a fist: smoke, chemical, gunpowder. It’s a taste on the air, oil that won’t wash clean. He spins around.

Kacchan is standing in the doorway. He’s staring.

:

“We didn’t kill him,” Sero says. He is patient and smiling. He’s always smiling. Mina doesn’t think he’s stopped smiling since the day the world imploded, and she doesn’t think he’s ever looked so tired.

Sero says, “It was a villain. It was a quirk. That wasn’t Bakugou and that wasn’t us.”

“We did though,” says Kaminari. “We killed him. We did. It didn’t even feel wrong.”

Mina lays a hand on the back of his neck, and he looks at her, desperate in a way she can’t define.

“They’re still cheering for me,” he says again.

“I know.”

“We did it, Mina. We all did. But they’re still cheering.”

“I know.”

:

Mina is on patrol with Bakugou.

It’s not the way it was. Of course it isn’t, everything is changed, but how do you prepare for the loss of a best friend? It’s the kind of thing heroes spend their whole lives failing to anticipate. And once you’ve failed, how do you prepare to cope with the living?

There was something equal before, between her and Bakugou. In how they fought, how they conducted themselves in public, with villains, with fans. She didn’t realize she’d taken it for granted--she didn’t know she’d miss it. Now Bakugou apprehends villains before Mina realizes a crime has been committed. He moves on before she can follow. He is machine, and she is left to be human, comforting the victims, dealing with police, running damage control, signing autographs and answering questions and smiling when they cheer for her. She smiles. Why won’t they stop asking about Kirishima? She smiles. She sees what Kaminari meant now. She smiles. How can Sero do this all day?

She catches up to Bakugou on a rooftop, perched like a gargoyle, glaring down at the street and waiting for something to go wrong. He doesn’t blink.

Her smile drops. She slumps against his side. His skin is slick with soot and sweat; the chemical smell of him burns the inside of her nose. He doesn’t push her off. He barely seems to notice she’s there.

Sero says he hasn’t seen the video. His therapist doesn’t recommend it, he says, and he doesn’t want more memories than he has already. Mina thinks she believes him. Kaminari admits that he watched it, though he claims only the once. He also says he’s getting regular counseling. She doesn’t believe him on either count.

She wonders sometimes if Kaminari isn’t the one they should be most worried about. She wonders if she can bring that up with Bakugou, or if that’s one of the things that have changed. She wonders if he will ever allow her to grieve with him--she wonders if the public will ever allow her to grieve at all. She wonders if she’s coping how Kirishima would have wanted.

She wonders if Bakugou has seen the video.

“You don't have to stand fucking suicide watch,” Bakugou says, without taking his eyes off the street. “I'm not that weak.”

“We're not worried about that,” says Mina.

She’s seen the video. Of course she has. There’s a scar on Sero’s face in the shape of her hand. Kirishima’s body, acid-burned and raw. She had to watch it. She had to.

She says, “We just don't want you to be alone.”

Bakugou stares at her. His eyes are hollow.

“Eijirou’s dead,” he says. “I am alone.”

:

“Deku,” Kacchan says, and that’s all he says. Ash falls from his fingers. Izuku didn’t hear him come in.

“Kacchan,” he says, and Bakugou brushes past him into the apartment, without a backwards glance. He doesn’t ask what Deku is doing there. Deku tells him anyway.

“Your mom called my mom.”

Bakugou grunts. “She called me too.”

“She said she couldn’t get ahold of you.”

“I didn’t pick up.”

He moves from room to room with machine efficiency. The kitchen: he wrenches open the busted fridge and sweeps a few water bottles and energy bars into his bag. The bathroom: the shower runs for six minutes. He emerges with wet hair, water steaming off his skin, back in his tattered uniform. It was barely enough to rinse off the oily residue of the smoke; the acrid scent keeps clinging. Now into the office. Izuku follows, feeling helpless, feeling six years old on the playground and unable to reach him.

“All Might has been looking for you too.”

“Who gives a shit.”

His voice lacks its usual venom. It lacks—anything. The words rattle around like he’s hollow, like he’s empty.

All Izuku can give him is the truth: “It wasn’t your fault.”

Bakugou doesn’t answer. He doesn’t give any indication that he heard at all—moves around the apartment with eyes that are at once intent and unseeing. Replaces his gauntlets. Replaces his mask. Izuku is sure others have told him the same thing. Did he hear any of them?

Into the bedroom, where Bakugou bee-lines to a dresser. He pulls out a blue muscle shirt and finally takes pause. Lifts it to his nose and breathes deep. There’s a moment of perfect stillness that Izuku couldn’t break even if he wanted to, even if he tried.

“I know it wasn't my fault,” Bakugou scoffs, when the moment passes. He even rolls his eyes, and for a moment he seems so very like himself that Izuku feels an urgent sympathy for the yawning space at his side where Kirishima should be.

“We got bad intel. There was no way for us to anticipate it.”

It’s exactly the right thing to say. Izuku wants to cry. “Kacchan, when is the last time you slept?”

The blue shirt goes into the backpack, an orange shirt is dug out and dumped on the floor. Bakugou starts for the door.

“Kacchan, wait!”

He claps a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder and removes it just as fast, because the palm is raw, the first layer of skin burned away by microscopic explosions, the flesh beneath sizzling. Bakugou stares at the steaming, five-fingered imprint left on his shoulder, blank-faced, rooted to the floor as though by a psychic quirk. The thought makes Izuku feel ill.

Bakugou says, “I keep thinking about the sports festival. The one on one matches. Our first year at UA.”

“What?”

“I was horrible to him. I had him dead to rights half a minute before the match was called and I could’ve stopped but I didn’t. I kept going. I wanted to hurt him just because I could. I never said sorry.”

He blinks, once, slowly. Then he heads for the door.

“Lock up when you leave or don’t. Later, Deku.”

Izuku can't think of a thing to say. It doesn't seem Bakugou wants to hear it either. He’s already gone.

:

:

four.

Three months after Kamino, Bakugou is woken by a nightmare. It is not his own.

Kirishima is sitting up, one leg flung over the side of the narrow twin bed. He’s gasping, hiccuping. He’s clutching at his forearms. The livid red scars are smudged pale in the dim.

“Hey,” Bakugou says, and sits up too. “Hey. Kirishima. It was just a dream.”

He reaches for him, and under his palm flesh ripples into stone and then into flesh again.

“Dream,” says Kirishima. “Wow, right, dream. Right. I had them before but not like—I can’t believe you dealt with this shit for so long. How did you do this?”

He laughs, and Bakugou hates the sound of it, half-hysterical and breathless.

“Shit, man, you’re so manly, how the hell did you do this—”

“Of course I am,” Bakugou grunts. He seizes one of Kirishima’s hands. Knocks their foreheads together.

“Deep breaths. Slow.”

“I don’t—”

“Stop talking. You’re going to pass out, you moron. Like me: deep breaths.”

Kirishima takes deep breaths. He tries. They’re shuddery, but he holds them in his lungs as long as he can, and then lets them go in a long stuttery sigh, over and over. His quirk activates in fits and starts like a jumping muscle.

Bakugou doesn’t know what happened at the internships. The raid. The girl. There are rumors, of course there are rumors. He knows a thing or two about those. But Kirishima’s not allowed to give him details, and in the end all Bakugou knows for certain is the pattern of the scars on his arms, how they map the exact striations of his quirk.

And the nightmares. He knows about the nightmares.

“You made it out,” he hears himself say. “You survived, you won, you’re fucking strong.”

Kirishima presses close, and Bakugou presses his hand, presses his thumb into the scar over his pulsepoint, counts the thumping as it slows. Things would have been different if he’d just gotten his license. He could have been there. He could have fought Kirishima’s nightmares instead of soothing them, he’s always been shit at comforting—

“I’m really happy you’re here,” Kirishima says. His breath fans against Bakugou’s cheek. “I’m really happy I woke up and you were here.”

Bakugou swallows around a dozen false starts. This thing they do, or have, this thing he can’t name—he thought it was a one-time thing after Kamino, but they never kicked the habit. Kirishima kept coming around, and they kept falling asleep, and they kept waking up. What can Bakugou say? He’s glad too. He wants to always wake up beside him.

What he chooses is: “It’s my room, dumbass.”

—which is a stupid thing to say, so he adds in a huff, “Do you always sweat so much? That’s fucking gross.”

Kirishima laughs, and Bakugou relaxes in degrees. That sounds better. That sounds right.

Kirishima lies back down when Bakugou shoves at his shoulder, and he rolls onto his side when he’s elbowed in the ribs. Bakugou lies down too, and then they watch each other. They’re close enough to share a pillow. Kirishima’s quirk has settled. His breathing evens out.

He’s smiling. Bakugou can see the faint outline of it, and abruptly he wants to be asleep, just so he can wake up and see that smile in the daylight.

:

The apartment is just a place to go, impersonal, ravaged. Bakugou goes back because it’s convenient. He restocks on food and water. He downs an energy drink. He replaces the shirt in his pack for a red threadbare tee. He goes to work.

He never took the leave the commission offered him. He didn’t see the point. Maybe it’s ironic that he’s a better hero now than he ever was; in one month he’s put away more villains than he has in the past five. He doesn’t give a shit. Maybe he’s barreling into an early grave. He doesn’t give a shit about that either. It’s not that he has a death wish, not like everyone thinks. And everyone thinks something. They all tell him what they think: He should be proud of Red Riot. He should be ashamed. It was his fault. He’s a villain, Axis only brought it out. He loved Red Riot. He hated Red Riot. He was jealous of Red Riot. Red Riot wouldn’t treat civilians this way. Red Riot wouldn’t treat villains this way. Was he dating Red Riot? What was it like fighting Red Riot? What were his last words to Red Riot, because I’ve watched that video like a million times and my friend thinks you said you’d kill him but I told her you wouldn’t have said that, because you loved him, so if you could settle this bet—

No, it’s not like everyone thinks. It’s just that Eijirou is dead and he stripped all the softness from the marrow of Bakugou’s bones, softness he didn’t even know he possessed. What’s the use of grief, now, or of mercy, what’s the use of anything without him? He looks inside himself and all he sees is the lack.

:

Bakugou can map out this city with their lives together. This four way intersection where the gridlock was so bad that Eijirou gave in to road rage for the first and only time in his life. He swore a blue streak and Bakugou was so delighted he kissed him hard enough to make his own mouth bleed.

That BBQ restaurant where Bakugou got food poisoning. Eijirou laughed and laughed, but he took care of him even when Bakugou spitefully threw up in his hair. There are dumpsters in the back, so he drops behind the building and tucks his backpack between two of them.

The alley where they almost got caught making out on patrol. The other alley where they did get caught, and by Deku, no less. It’s been a long time since Bakugou so sincerely tried to kill him.

That block where Eijirou almost died.

That block where Eijirou did die.

That’s usually where he loses Kaminari, when Kaminari is tailing him. Sure enough, ten minutes later he’s hunting down muggers halfway across the city, and his chaperone is gone. It’s amateur hour—none but the desperate and the stupid are out when Ground Zero is on the prowl. They aren’t worth the sweat it takes to put them down. Maybe he hospitalizes one of the muggers. Maybe he kills the other. Maybe the victim is crying. It doesn’t matter. Eventually Kaminari will catch up and deal with it, or he won’t. He turns to go.

There’s a scuffling behind him—a third villain, how the hell didn’t he notice—Bakugou pivots with a Howitzer already loaded up, and then his knee gives out and his vision goes dark—

It’s only a second, and when he comes to, the victim is wailing and the villain is missing his legs. There’s steel in Bakugou’s ribs. Some cheap goddamn butterfly knife. It’s shallow, treatable, but it shouldn’t have happened. Amateur hour.

Options: go grab his bag and patch himself up on-site, or go grab his bag and give himself proper treatment back at the apartment. Either way step one is the same.

But the bag isn’t there.

Bakugou’s vision swims. It swam when he got food poisoning, when Eijirou helped him stumble out through the back door and he threw up between the dumpsters. Where the bag should be, where Eijirou’s red shirt should be, but it isn’t, and he isn’t, and Bakugou wants to be sick but Eijirou won’t be there to laugh at him and take him home.

Blood pulses in Bakugou’s ears. It fills up his head like a brain hemorrhage until all he can see is red. The thief could be across the city by now, but it doesn’t matter. He could be anywhere in the world and Bakugou would find him. He’ll blacken his bones. He’ll crush his skull.

He does find him, of course. He’s less than five miles away, trudging along a crowded street without a care in the goddamn world. Bakugou combusts the concrete in front of him, grabs him by the collar and then has to grab him by the arms because the clothes sear to ash in his fists.

This fucker thought he could steal from Ground Zero? Bakugou laughs. The thief is going to cook between his hands. Bakugou laughs and laughs.

“Ground Zero, stop!”

Bakugou whips his head around. Kaminari is there, knees bent, eyes wide. Electricity is arcing off his body. Ha. As though he could take Bakugou down. As though the gathering crowd could deter him. As though anything in the world could keep him from roasting this piece of shit villain alive for even thinking he could take Eijirou away—

This—piece of shit villain—

The red bleeds away. Bakugou turns back to the man, and—and he isn’t a villain. He’s homeless. Whimpering. Rattling in Bakugou’s grip. I’m sorry, he’s saying, I thought it was thrown away, I’m sorry, don’t hurt me—

Bakugou drops him. He tears open the bag. Pulls out the red shirt. Presses it to his eyes and holds it. Holds it. His hands are trembling.

When he picks up his head, everyone is staring.

“Keep the rest,” he mumbles, and tosses the bag at the man’s feet. The crowd is stirring, and now there are voices: You should be ashamed. Why can’t you be more like Red Riot? Villain!

A soft drink comes arcing in his periphery and Bakugou vaporizes it without thinking. He ties the shirt around his neck.

“Bakugou,” Kaminari croaks, and Bakugou—goes. And goes. And goes.

:

“You’re going to be okay,” says Bakugou. Like it’s certain. Like it’s fact. Like it’s already happened, but Eijirou missed it, somehow, didn’t get the memo that these wounds will not kill him. There’s too much blood for him to speak but his eyes are sad and his hands are desperate, he presses them to Bakugou’s face, just holding him there, and holding him, and holding him.

“You’re going to be okay or I’ll kill you,” Bakugou sobs, and he hates Kirishima for this, hates him for leaving, hates him for dying, hates him, hates him, no, no wait, don't go, I love you, god, fuck, don’t leave me alone, please—

:

He lands—he crashes. He doesn’t know where. A park. There are flowers. What time is it? Three? Five? No one is out to snap pictures of the number one hero, bone-weary and aching. His legs threaten to give out from under him; his head threatens to roll off his shoulders. He snarls, shakes himself like a dog. Landmarks. He needs a landmark to orient himself. The watery grays and blues of pre-dawn warp familiar sights into eerie ghosts of themselves, but he knows every inch of this city, and if he can just—

There. Yes, he knows exactly where he is. They walked here two years ago, on Christmas Eve. No flowers then, but the park offered a good view of the lights, braided in the trees, frosting the buildings. The bench where Eijirou nodded off on his shoulder is across the park. It wouldn’t take long to get to the apartment from here. Clean up. Sew himself back together. Crawl into bed and close his eyes, just for a minute—

And then he’ll wake up.

Bakugou doesn’t go back to the apartment. He doesn’t bother making his way over to the bench he knows. He collapses into the nearest seat and sears shut the gash in his side, and once that’s done he unknots the shirt and lifts it to his nose. Smoke. Nitroglycerin. He breathes and breathes but Eijirou isn’t there. He isn’t anywhere.

His hand thuds to his lap. He stares at nothing.

A long, thin shadow falls over him.

“My boy. I’ve been looking for you.”

“You found me.” He doesn’t look up.

All Might lowers himself to the bench with deliberate care. He has a cane that he uses to steady himself; there’s a stoop to his spine. It used to infuriate Bakugou, seeing him so fragile. It took him a long time to realize that he wasn’t.

Silence settles softly. They watch the flowers.

“It’s not the same,” All Might says, “Losing a mother or a friend, and losing a life partner. It’s not the same. In the ways that we are different—I can’t speak to that. I won’t try to.”

Bakugou doesn’t answer.

“But I know what it is to lose someone you would have given your life for. There’s nothing that can compare.”

“You didn’t kill Shimura Nana with your own hands. Nighteye either. Don’t pretend we’re the same.” The words are flat as the side of a blade. All Might does not flinch.

��No,” he agrees, after a time, slow, and heavy. “No, I didn’t. But I know it wasn’t my fault, like you know it wasn’t yours. Not really. And I know how it is to blame yourself anyway.”

Bakugou opens his mouth, but can’t find it in himself to reply. He wasn’t lying to Deku. He knows it wasn’t his fault. There was nothing he could have done, and there's a special kind of torture in being so helpless anyway. Sometimes shit happens and the only person you've ever unselfishly loved dies.

His vision is swimming again. He squeezes his eyes shut and forces them open.

“My boy,” All Might says. “When was the last time you took a rest?”

“Don’t need it.”

“I don’t think young Kirishima would have wanted—”

“It doesn’t matter what he wanted. He’s dead.” The fight drains out of him. “None of it matters.”

All Might shakes his head. “I don’t believe that. Just because they’re gone, it doesn’t mean they cease to matter.”

“Why should I give a shit what you think?”

“You don’t have to. You have no obligation to me, my boy. I’m just a rambling old man,” and he lays a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder, “who loves you both very much.”

Very suddenly Bakugou wishes he’d sat on the bench he sat on with Eijirou. The line of his mouth trembles. He sets his teeth, and grinds them until they ache. “I know what they think of me,” he snaps in the hand’s direction, “None of it’s true.”

“What’s that?”

He snarls. “Don’t pretend you don’t know. They either think I’m sating some newly awoken villain tendencies or I’m a fucking suicide risk. Well, I’m not a villain, and I’m not out here trying to get myself killed. I’m not out for revenge. I’m not running from the fact that he’s dead. I know he’s dead.”

Smoke. He looks down. His hand is wringing the shirt—he unlocks his fingers, stares at the singed fabric. Eijirou has had this thing since he was twelve. He would wear it to bed in the winter, when Bakugou would insist he put on a shirt. The color’s washed out and the seams are stretched to hell. There’s a flaking graphic of Crimson Riot on it.

“I just—”

That stupid shirt. His stupid face, half asleep. His awful morning breath. His smile. You’re going to be okay.

“I just…” Bakugou’s voice splinters. “I just hate waking up without him.”

All Might is watching him; Bakugou can’t bear to meet his eye. It sounds absurd, now that he’s said it out loud. All the sleepless nights. All the desperate hero work. Just to avoid— A laugh barks out of him. It’s hoarse and hot in his throat. All Might’s hand moves from shoulder to neck, grounding, anchoring, folding over the top knob of Bakugou’s spine. Bakugou laughs, and he laughs, and it’s ugly, and it’s wet, and he laughs and it catches and it tears and he curls around it and he cries.

:

:

:

end.

Bakugou has a dream where he wakes up.

It’s morning. The light is smeary and peach-colored. Eijirou is there.

“Mornin’, Katsuki,” he says. He’s fifteen. He’s twenty eight. They’re in the apartment. They’re in the dorm. It doesn’t matter where they are, or when, because Eijirou is here, with his stupid hair and his awful morning breath. He’s smiling.

Bakugou tackles him into the pillows, and kisses him when he laughs, and kisses him, and kisses him, and he says I’m sorry, and Eijirou says for what, and Bakugou says for the sports festival. Our first year at UA. I had you beat and I could have stopped, I should have stopped, but I didn't and it was fucking rotten of me, I just kept hurting you and hurting you and—

Eijirou knocks their foreheads hard enough that Bakugou swears. The pain is clear and sweet.

“Are you done being stupid?” he says. “You never have to apologize for treating me like an equal. You’re mine and I’m yours. It’s okay. We’re gonna be okay.”

Bakugou reaches up to hold his face. Eijirou reaches up to hold his hands. Nothing is burning. Nothing is turning to dust.

“Shit, yeah. We’re gonna be okay. Dumbass.”

“We’re okay?”

“We’re okay.”

:

[klaineharmony]

Bring Me Love (This Christmas)

This little holiday fic came into my head while listening to John Legend’s “Bring Me Love,” which is such a cute holiday song. And my brain insisted that I should set in the Movie Stars AU, a Jack and Sarah AU that I have made a moodboard for - but I haven’t even written the main story yet! Just know that in this ‘verse, Jack and Sarah are both actors, and fell in love filming a movie together, and now split their time between California and New York. Kath is Jack’s agent and Spot is his publicist, while Davey is still Sarah’s brother and also her agent, while Race is her publicist. The rest, I hope, will explain itself. I know this is really past holiday time, but I hope you all enjoy it anyway, especially @radioactivepigeons, who very much wanted me to write it. :) 

(Small warning: Spot and Jack swear once or twice in this fic. I can’t keep them from doing anything, honestly. Boys.)

Also tagging: @katherineisthebestpulitzer (I hope this makes your night better, hon!), @elozable, @wordshakerofgallifrey, @thelittleredheadedmusician, @whatstheproblembaby, @queenofbrooklyn, @waitformereprise, @allhailpancakelord. I hope you all had wonderful holidays!

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

A knock sounded at the apartment door, and Jack groaned from under his comforter on the couch.

Sarah was still away on a movie shoot, making a rom-com in Greece with Bill Hearst - Bill Hearst, for Christ’s sake, who was wealthy and charming and as gay as Rock Hudson - and Jack had been doing his best to ignore both Sarah’s absence and the holidays, save going over to the Jacobs’ once or twice during Hannukkah. (Esther would have been mortally offended if he hadn’t come when invited, and frankly, he couldn’t stand to think about how upset Sarah would have been as well. So he had gone, and Esther and Meyer had put up with his brooding, while Davey and Les tried to cheer him up, which had worked only to a degree.)

He had come home from his own movie shoot in New Zealand two weeks ago, shut himself into his and Sarah’s apartment, and done his best to become Ebenezer Scrooge.

He hadn’t put up any of their decorations. He had tried reading the new scripts Kath had sent him, but couldn’t focus on them, despite her repeated and insistent messages that he had to tell her (and Now, Please) if he wanted to audition for any of them - that was what she was there to do as his agent, after all. He had ignored Spot’s suggestions, as his publicist, that Jack do some kind of holiday fundraising and/or charity event - which normally Jack loved, as he always chose an organization involving children and loved to see their excitement over whatever he was able to do for them, or help do for them. 

It was Christmas Eve today, and Sarah wasn’t home, and he was in no mood to do anything but sulk.

He shouldn’t be so pathetic, he knew. But he missed her - he missed her so much, and the holidays were dark and gloomy without her. They had been together for two years now, and being apart from each other for filming never seemed to get easier. This was the first holiday season they had been forced to be in separate places, and it hurt far more than Jack had expected, despite almost constant texting and Skype calls when they could negotiate the time difference.

The knocking came again, louder and more insistent, and Davey’s voice called to him from the other side of the door.

“Open up, Jack; I know you’re in there!” 

Jack groaned again and tried to get up off the couch, landing in an ungraceful heap on the floor. Cursing, he untangled himself from the comforter and limped over to the door. When he opened it, he beheld not just Davey, but Spot, Race, Kath, and Charlie. Race and Spot were holding a large fir tree up between them, Kath had a box that was overflowing with decorations, and Davey had two shopping bags that were bulging with food. Charlie, improbably, was playing Santa Claus, as he was wearing a Santa hat and had two enormous bags that were stuffed with gifts.

 “Wow, Jack, you look like shit,” Spot said, and Jack Jack rolled his eyes. 

“Thanks so much for that, Spot. Isn’t it your job as my publicist to be a little more encouraging?”

“Actually, it’s my job as your publicist to tell you when you look like shit, and it’s even more my job as your friend,” Spot said, elbowing his way past Jack into the apartment.

“Come on in,” Jack said sarcastically.

“He’s right, you know, Cowboy,” Kath said, coming in next. “You look awful, and I agree - as your agent and your friend, it’s my job to tell you that. For heaven’s sake, go take a shower, would you?”

“Daaaaveeeey,” Jack whined, looking appealingly over at his best friend. 

“Nope,” David said flatly, wearing his best Disapproving face. “You’re not getting any help from me, Jack. We’re here on Sarah’s orders not to let you wallow and ruin Christmas, which you’ve been making your best attempt at doing.”

“You might as well give in, Cowboy,” Race said from the hallway. “You know we all love Sarah more than you, and her orders come before yours.” 

“Traitors,” Jack muttered, walking back into the apartment as Race and Spot began to maneuver the tree through the door. “Even you!” he said crossly, pointing at Charlie, who was maneuvering his crutches and the gift bags through the door. “My own brother!” 

“Foster brother,” Charlie corrected him. “That’s all you get to claim when you’re being this much of an idiot.”

Jack threw himself back on the couch and folded his arms, pouting, while his friends went to work around him. Spot and Race managed to get the tree into its holder and in front of the large window in the living room. Kath began to carefully wind lights on it while Charlie unpacked the other decorations from her bag. Jack could hear Davey rummaging around in the kitchen, putting away his bags of food.

“Where are your and Sarah’s ornaments and decorations, Jack?” Charlie asked. “Kath brought some things we thought we might need, but part of Sarah’s directive was to make sure this place was decorated in full.” Jack glared at him, but Charlie just cocked his head and lifted his eyebrows.

“On the floor in the hall closet. Two big tubs,” Jack finally said, giving in. “They have both Hanukkah and Christmas ornaments in them.”

“On my way,” Charlie said, heading for the hall with Spot on his heels.

“Jack, in the name of all that is holy, go take a shower,” Davey said, reappearing from the kitchen. “Kath asked nicely; don’t make me play dirty.”

“And how do you think you’re goin’ to do that?” Jack said, challenging him..

“I have a whole tray of Mama’s rugelach with me,” David said. “If you do not go make yourself presentable, you do not get a single one.” 

“You wouldn’t dare,” Jack said, staggered, for Esther’s rugelach were legendary, and Davey knew Jack’s weakness for them.

“I absolutely would,” David said firmly. “Shower. Now. And put on something nice, rather than those pajamas that look like you’ve been wearing them for a week.” 

“They don’t just look like that,” Jack said under his breath, and Kath made a noise of disgust from her place at the tree. 

“Eeeewww. I don’t know how I ever get anyone to believe you are suave and charming, Jack Kelly,” she said. “I don’t know how Sarah puts up with you. Ick.”

Spot reappeared with two boxes of ornaments in his arms, carrying them as though they weighed about as much as a box of feathers. “Jacky-boy, if you don’t come out of the shower looking like you are going to a photoshoot, I won’t help you do anything to repair the damage you’ve done by being a complete hermit over the holidays.”

“What damage? You can just say I’ve been taking a break, enjoying my family after finishing a film shoot early in December,” Jack said, glaring daggers at him.

“None of your usual fundraising and work with children? No appearance at Radio City Music Hall for the Rockettes show? No dinners out with your lovely girlfriend? Lack of sightings means lack of publicity, my friend, and you know it,” Spot shot back.

“No one expected me to be anythin’ other than a hermit before I met Sarah,” Jack grumbled.

“But then you did, and you changed, and so did she, and I know you wouldn’t have it any other way, so go get in the shower,” Race said in exasperation, coming out from behind the tree and pushing him down the hall.

“Fine, fine, I’m going,” Jack said, throwing up his hands.

He spent a long time in the shower, reveling in the hot water, washing his hair twice, and making sure the grime of the last week was off his body. By the time he felt clean, he was ashamed enough of his own behavior that he put extra effort into looking nice. He shaved carefully, styled his hair, and chose a pair of charcoal trousers and a light gray sweater that on the dressier side. His friends were here to try and cheer him up, because Sarah had known he would be missing her and told them to keep him company. The least he could do was try and be appreciative.

When he re-emerged into the living room, Kath had the lights on the tree and was busily adding decorations. Charlie was arranging gifts under the tree with Spot’s help. Race was carefully setting out Sarah’s menorah and glass Hanukkah ornaments on the mantle.

Charlie looked up and gave a whoop.

“There’s my brother! Your status has officially been restored,” he said sassily.

“Glad to know I haven’t been disinherited,” Jack chuckled.

“Well, look at that. Jack Kelly, movie star, decided to make an appearance,” Kath said, giving him an approving smile.

“I wouldn’t go as far as ‘movie star,’ but it’s definitely several steps up from ungroomed, sulky, and generally disgusting Jack Kelly,” Spot said, looking him up and down.

Davey emerged from the kitchen holding two rugelach. After doing his own once-over of Jack, he held out the desserts, which Jack took with alacrity.

“Much better. Sarah will absolutely not kill me now,” Davey grinned.

“Well, we can’t have that. It would be a bad look, Sarah killing her own brother and agent,” Jack quipped.

“Definitely a bad look,” Davey agreed.

“You two think you’re kidding, but heaven help me if Sarah ever decides to go on the rampage about anything,” Race said with a shudder. “She’s the sweetest person alive, until she isn’t.”

“That’s the truth,” Jack said, laughing fully. Sarah had a very long fuse, but when she truly got angry, her anger was a fearsome thing, and rather awe-inspiring. Jack, thankfully, had only had it directed at himself once or twice, generally with good reason.

A knock sounded at the door again, and Kath squealed, clapping her hands.

“Were we expecting someone?” Jack said suspiciously.

“We may have done some inviting before we all headed over here,” Kath called over her shoulder. She opened the door, and people began pouring in: Esther; Mayer; Davey and Sarah’s brother Les; Bryan Denton and Medda Larkson, who were two of their closest director friends; Mush Meyers, who was one of Jack’s closest actor friends and a fierce dancer besides; Specs (whose actual name was Mark but who made a living playing bookish character parts); Boots (who was Arvie, but famous for his parts in Westerns and crime dramas); Hannah, who had starred with Sarah in several period films, and a whole slew of others.

They all began greeting each other with hugs and exuberance, and Jack shot Race and Spot a look.

“You took this whole cheering up thing really seriously, didn’t you?” 

“We told you, Jacky-boy, Sarah’s orders before all,” Spot said roguishly, and Jack rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the smile pulling at his mouth.

“How did you get all of these people to come to my apartment on Christmas Eve?”

“We have magical powers of persuasion,” Race said, winking at him.

Jack shook his head. “I don’t want to know - but I appreciate it,” he said, smiling, and Race’s face relaxed into a true smile as he clapped Jack on the shoulder.

“We can’t have you bein’ lonely, Jack. What else are friends for?”

Jack reached out and gave him a hug, and they held each other for a moment before Race pulled away.

“You’re welcome. Come use your height to put the tree topper on, would you?” Race said, and Jack laughed. 

“Always glad to be useful.”

The party was a smashing success from the start. Davey had laid out a massive amount of food in Jack’s kitchen, and Bryan and Medda immediately took charge of making drinks for everyone. Hannah helped Katherine finish the tree with alacrity, and Race took advantage of Jack’s large music collection, curating a tasteful rotation of holiday songs. Jack hadn’t seen many of the guests since before he left to shoot his latest film, and so he spent the next few hours catching up with everyone, amid much laughter and teasing. He was warmed through by everyone’s care for him; they had given up their Christmas Eve to come and make holiday cheer for him, and that meant the world.

By the time the third knock of the night came at his door, it was nearing midnight. Jack looked up at the sound and frowned; it was rare for anyone to just show up this late, but perhaps one of their other friends was a late arrival.

“Jack, you should get that!” Katherine called, winking and grinning at him from across the room. “It’s your house, after all.”

Her smile told Jack that she definitely knew who was at the door, and that did not necessarily bode well for him. Seriously, if she was playing some kind of prank on him - 

He swung the door open and immediately felt all of the air leave his lungs.

“Merry Christmas, Cowboy,” Sarah said softly, smiling her smile that was just for him, the one Jack had been dreaming about for weeks. “Special delivery.”

“Sarah,” Jack breathed. “Oh, my God, Sarah.” He stepped forward and swept her into his arms, spinning her around as she laughed. “What are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to be home until next week!”

“We got done with shooting early,” Sarah said as he set her down. She reached up and stroked his face, and Jack leaned into her fingers. “We all wanted to be home for the holidays, and Weisel might be a temperamental jerk of a director, but he swore we could finish the shoot, and we did. Once I knew I could get here, I booked the first flight I could find.”

Jack pulled her back into his arms, burying his face in her hair and breathing in her smell, before he leaned down and kissed her. “Oh, Sarah, I missed you. I missed you so much. I’ve been a mess - I probably shouldn’t admit that, but I was - “

“I know,” Sarah said. “I was worried about you. Everyone was worried about you. It isn’t like you to be so depressed over the holidays, sweetheart.”

“It isn’t the same without you,” Jack murmured. “Holidays aren’t holidays without you, love.”

“Why do you think I had our family and friends bring as much of me as they could?” Sarah said gently, and the love in her eyes was unmistakable. “I’m always here, Jack,” and she placed her hand over his heart, “even when I can’t be with you, no matter what time of year it is.”

Jack kissed her again, and Sarah responded in kind. They kissed until they were breathless, and were finally interrupted by Davey, who stuck his head out of the apartment. 

“There’s mistletoe in here that you two lovebirds can keep kissing under if you really want to,” he said, grinning. “But there’s a whole lot of people who would like to see you, Saz, and we have a holiday party to finish!”

“We’re coming,” Sarah said, smiling at her brother, and Davey nodded, winking at Jack before he withdrew.

“You set all of this up before you got home,” Jack said in realization. “Kath knew you were coming - Davey obviously did, too - did you have everyone in on it?”

“Yes,” Sarah admitted, her eyes sparkling. “I wanted to surprise you, and I was worried about you - I thought our family and friends and some holiday cheer would be the perfect way to lift your mood before I got here.”  

“It’s the best present I’ve ever had,” Jack declared, kissing her one last time. “And you are the best part of it. Happy holidays, love.”

“Happy holidays, Jack,” Sarah said, and she took his hand in hers and led him inside, where their family was waiting for them. 

[ifanfictionella]

I have a crush on the cute guitarist in you’re band (1)

Fandom: Voltron legendary defender                                                                       Ship:Romelle x Allura                                                                                               Words:3451 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------      

<p>After their third round of starbucks latte trips and second round of trailing around the bookstores of the mall all three friends found themselves in pidges dormroom studying. Shay had sprawled herself across the single bed along with a few open books, the rock nerd was the only one who didn’t actually live in this room. </p>

<p>The room was romelle and pidges. </p>

<p>Said short nerd was sitting at her desk with one headphone in looking at what looked like some sciency stuff. She had cursed at her laptop so many times that romelle had started to question if pidge actually like her so called ‘baby’</p>

<p>That left romelle, she wasn’t technically studying.</p>

<p>There was nothing to study.</p>

<p>Romelle was an art student so often when her friends were doing school work she would be using that free time to get her book, and often her clothes, covered in paint. </p>

<p>She often opted to have the floor rather than using her bed to do artwork, even when she was sketching she just couldn’t risk anything rubbing off onto her covers. In the background romelle had let her soft music playlist play which pared with the low hum of pidges laptop, the occasional chudder made all three of them jump.</p>

<p>The setting sun of the night seemed to paired nicely with the fairy lights romelle had insisted that they put up, it was the perfect type of evening to be studying to. The library was often too crowded and the lights were too bright meaning studying was rather hard, the coffee shops were too busy and people would often stop to talk to them which would be highly distracting. </p>

<p>Romelle and Shay both jumped when pidge groaned and closed her note book, closed her laptop and put the pen down. “Ya know girls, it is a friday night and we could actually be doing something fun” </p>

<p>“What do you suggest?” Shay asked, raising her eyebrow whilst looking up from her books for one of the first times that evening. “And would we need to change clothing?”</p>

<p>“Well I mean keith's band is taking part in one of those indie concerts” she said sitting sideways on her chair playing with a strewn pen, she glanced at it from a side angle before looking at the two of them “I did promise him we would maybe swing by to watch and support” </p>

<p>Romelle turned to look at Shay, romelle shrugged at her which left the decision up to Shay. It had been a while since romelle had gone out to something at night, much less something on a friday night </p>

<p>Wow such an exciting college student</p>

<p>“Would it be ok if Hunk tagged along?” shay said raising her eyebrow, pidge shrugged before nodding at her </p>

<p>After that interaction Shay had left to get changed in her own dorm room. </p>

<p>“You ok with her bringing Hunk?” romelle asked as she went through her wardrobe looking at all of her tops really not having a clue what she wanted to wear. </p>

<p>“Yeah sure” pidge replied, sounding like she was biting her tongue “Just bring my ex boyfriend along to a concert where my current boyfriend is playing , that won’t be awkward” there was a huge amount of sarcasm behind that statement. That earnt a slight chuckle from romelle as she picked out a band shirt she had picked up from a local thrift shop</p>

<p>“Keith and hunk seem pretty chill though” she replied pressing it up against her body before reaching for a pair of jeans that she thought would look cute. </p>

<p>“You wouldn’t get it, you don’t feel the awkwardness when we go on double dates” pidge replied as she slid one of keiths jackets on her body. Romelle had put her jeans and shirt on by now and turned to look at pidge. She had decided to not change her earrings or the scarf headband she had been wearing all day, her curled hair would do fine.</p>

<p> Romelle shrugged at her “Me and you’re brother talk like we’re still best friends” she said picking up the hoodie that had been laid on the floor under her bed for a week now, she sniffed it and decided it still smelt ok enough to wear out </p>

<p>“That’s different, he came out as gay” she said, kind of dead pan whilst looking down at her phone “We all knew, admit it” </p>

<p>She had to sigh and simply nod in response, besides shiro was good to him. She was just happy to have him in her life as a best friend. There was a knock at the door which made both girls turn towards the door</p>

<p>“It’s open” Pidge called before going back to texting someone, presumably keith </p>

<p>“Lance decided to tag too '' Shay said with a slight groan, He winked at romelle earning an eye roll from her. It meant nothing flirty, lance was highly taken and romelle would never go for him anyway.</p>

<p>“Wanting to boo mullet and cheer for lotor?” romelle asked, folding her arms and raising her eyebrow at him with a slight smirk. </p>

<p>“I will stomp on your foot If i hear any cat calls coming from you” Pidge said, looking up having the same smirk on her face that romelle had. This earned an eye roll from lance before he put his hands in the air </p>

<p>“While me and you’re boo will never see eye to eye,I want to support the band” he said lowering his hands and putting them in his pockets “Besides my cousin just joined the band, you notice her straight away” </p>

<p>Romelle looked up at the mention of a new member, the two other members had never really brought up the fact that they were gaining a new member. </p>

<p>"shouldn't we get going then?" Shay said, jumping into the conversation whilst holding hunks hand.</p>

<p>He seemed out of it today </p>

<p>"yeah yeah, let's get going" pidge said trying to push them out the door, romelle simply rolled her eyes smiling taking her key from the hook and locking the door behind them. </p>

<p>---- </p>

<p>They took a short cut she was not aware of and they ended up at the main park of the town, the gazebo had been set up with a backstage area and band equipment. </p>

<p>Most of the bands romelle had not heard of, she really only knew about midnight dragons, Keith's band. </p>

<p>"here seems like a good spot” pidge said</p>

<p>“It only took the gremlin pushing past most of the taller people to find it” lance whispered to romelle which made her laugh slightly, shay simply rolled her eyes at pidge before going to stand with hunk and sip from her iced latte. The other three stood a tad bit away from the couple, pidge was texting someone while lance went scouting around for some sort of drinks bit</p>

<p>“Hows veronica?” Romelle asked looking up at the cuban boy which made him stop and turn to look at her again. He shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged slightly at her </p>

<p>“Well we have kinda be talking though she is still ignoring me because of lotor” he sighed and looked down at the floor, he kicked at a rock that was near his feet before looking back up “It’s whatever you know, older siblings are protective to an annoying extent”</p>

<p>“I would assume Bandor would say the same about me” she said before shrugging herself “You and Lotor still up for meeting up for coffee on sunday” </p>

<p>“Oh duh, we both love our catch up sessions' ' he said forming a smile on his face scratching at the back of the neck, Romelle noticed a large ish dark mark on his neck which made her smirk slightly before shaking her head.</p>

<p>“Highlight of my week”<br /> The sound of some announcer coming on made the two turn towards the stage area, romelle couldn’t quite hear the man talking, mainly because she was admiring his british accent and orange mustache. What she did understand was when he announced that pidge had dragged them to a battle of the bands, romelle turned to pidge and gave her a slight glare. </p>

<p>It was some band named pastel galaxies up first, their music really was not romelles vibe and she found herself reaching for her phone throughout a few of their songs. </p>

<p>Known on her luck, Keith's band was going to be the last act to perform. </p>

<p>Thankfully she was wrong </p>

<p>Midnight dragons came out straight after, the familiar faces of Keith and lotor caught her eye. Keith had dropped his guitar and was rocking his new piercings, no matter what he wore he seemed to wear it well. Lotor as always was borrowing some aspects of keiths wardrobe but the eyeliner was all his as was the hairstyle. </p>

<p>“Mullets looking emo as ever” Lance said with his arms folded, romelle elbowed him in the arm and laughed slightly </p>

<p>“You will eventually give it up that you had a crush on him in highschool” she asked raising her eyebrow slightly</p>

<p>Lance may have said something but Romelle wasn’t paying attention, her eyes were immediately drawn to the new girl. She was absolutely beautiful. </p>

<p>She had the prettiest eyes and her skin was tanned and the bleached blonde, almost silver , hair fell around her head perfectly. Her long pastel  t-shirt tucked into her skinny black jeans just drew romelles attention to her amazing figure</p>

<p>Holy shit</p>

<p>“Yo! Romelle” Lance called making her jump and turn to look at him “You’re pretty red, see something you like?” He was smirking at that point with his arms folded </p>

<p>“Bite me mclain” </p>

<p>She ignored him for the rest of the band's set, she couldn’t place any of the songs that were played that night. She was just so entranced by watching the guitarist play and laugh and just enjoy life while performing. Her hair seemed to fall out of the high ponytail while she was jumping to the final song. </p>

<p>And with that their bit was over, the girl looked down directly at her group and gave a smile before looking at the crowd. </p>

<p>Romelles face completely flushed after that.</p>

<p>“Thank you for coming out, enjoy the rest of the show” Lotor said beating keith to the microphone, all three of them bowed before going back stage </p>

<p>“That my guy” lance said before doing some sort of wolf whistle, pidge came up to the two of them after that. Shay and hunk had left a few songs ago- something about all the coffee not agreeing with shay. </p>

<p>“We should go see them” she suggested already tugging on lances hoodie in the direction of the backstage area “Besides I want to finally meet the new girl”</p>

<p>“I don’t need much convincing to see my boy” Lance said allowing himself to be dragged in the direction. Romelle  just rolled her eyes at lance before walking ahead. </p>

<p>She had to push past a few people and certainly lost pidge way behind her, she wasn’t paying attention to where she was going and bumped into someone who practically towered over. She looked up at the butch woman and was practically falling over herself trying to appilogise </p>

<p>“Watch where you’re going next time” </p>

<p>Wow she had a rough deep voice</p>

<p>“zathrid, It’s not her fault” Another voice said jumping in, it belonged to a rather cute looking girl, she had pink hair and big hoop earrings in “Sorry about her, we’ve both had a rough week with college, it’s our final year” the girl held her hand out </p>

<p>“I’ve got that to come, I’m only a first year,” Romelle replied, taking the girl's hand before walking away from the two- she had wanted to introduce herself but she also really wanted to get out of that situation.</p>

<p>She breathed a sigh of relief when she got to the edge of the crowd, she looked up and could see Keith and Lotor having a smoke break which got her to smile. She turned back and could see pidge had climbed on top of lances shoulders, the two were already making their way through the crowd. </p>

<p>When they got to her pidge jumped down and walked over to keith and lotor, romelle and lance watched as she snuggled into keith's side. The three of them talked for about a minute before she motioned towards romelle and lance, romelle gave an awkward wave at the two while lance winked at lotor. </p>

<p>“Oh come on are you two afraid of a bit of smoke” Keith called before taking a drag from his cigarette. </p>

<p>“My body is a temple kogane” lance called back as the two walked forward towards them “The only bad exception I let in is your hot drummer” he then looked over at lotor and slipped his hand into his pocket. </p>

<p>“Yieks” pidge responded with a slight smirk directed at lance “So who’s your guitarist?”</p>

<p>“Weirdly,” Lotor started discarding his cigarette into a water bucket “That would be an ex of mine, before I came out we were just experimenting” </p>

<p>“So what you’re saying is, I turned you gay” A new british voice said, the girl from before walked out from the stage area with a guitar case held on her back. She folded her arms and smirked at lotor </p>

<p>“More like I relised that, we’re both just too gay to be straight”</p>

<p>So she's into girls?</p>

<p>Shit why is her heart going so fast </p>

<p>“You took most of the gay, lets not forget that”</p>

<p>“Allura, this is pidge” keith said motioning the girl under his arm “That's lance” he said pointing at lance before he turned to look at romelle “And she’s romelle”</p>

<p>“The token single” lotor added which made romelle roll her eyes </p>

<p>“I’m just too good for anyone at our college” she responded before laughing slightly “But seriously, I don’t meet enough people”</p>

<p>“I dropped out of college, i much prefer the working life” allura said rolling her shoulders backwards “What do you study?”</p>

<p>“Can’t you tell, she’s an art student” Lance said motioning to what she was wearing making romelle roll her eyes again </p>

<p>“That’s a stereotype lance”</p>

<p>“Aww cute,I drew from time to time- just when i'm having a bad day really” Allura said rubbing her arm before getting an idea “Come with me for a sec,I’ll show you my sketch journal”</p>

<p>So she's one of those girls? </p>

<p>“Uh sure” Romelle replied following the girl, romelle quickly caught up to her- there wasn’t any security at events like this due to the bands not being huge or mainstream enough to have people trying to harass them. The female dressing room wasn’t in use at the moment so there wasn’t any issue of bumping into people. Allura reached into her bag and pulled out a leather bound book along with her phone. </p>

<p>“Sorry if they are kind of bad, i'm just a hobbyist” she said, passing the book to romelle. She looked at the book and felt it underneath her fingers for a second or two before opening it. </p>

<p>While it wasn’t the sort of stuff she was used to seeing in sketchbooks but the composition of the pages were amazing. She assumed the journal was more like a feelings book rather than some sort of art book</p>

<p>“Those are really cool, I love the way you have all of the pages layed out, that’s something I have been struggling with for a while so I think how you’ve done it is pretty cool” she said closing the book and passing it back to allura “I’d love to talk to you more about your journaling”</p>

<p>Allura looked at her for a second or two before processing what she had said and nodding, she got out a post it note from what looked like a diary and gave it to her. Romelle looked at the neon pink piece of paper with the cutesy handwriting. </p>

<p>Romelle quickly put the number in her phone and saved the contact </p>

<p>---------------------------------------------------</p>

<p>“So what did you and allura talk about?” Lance asked, smirking at her as they walked back to the college site, he was holding a disposable cup of coffee that Lotor had bought him before he and Keith had gone back to their shared apartment. </p>

<p>“Just art” she shrugged</p>

<p>“Is that code for something”</p>

<p>“No we just talked about art, wheres pidge anyway”</p>

<p>“Spending the night with keith” </p>

<p>Romelle nodded “Wanna sleep over then?” </p>

<p>“As long as I can do you’re makeup again”</p>

<p>They both got out their student ID to scan at the door and then walked to the dorm building. Romelle got her keys out and opened the door, turned the lights on and put her bag down. Her coffee had gone cold by now so she took it to the sink and tipped it out, she quickly got herself into something she could sleep in before lance got to her room. </p>

<p>“Sharp shooter has arrived” He said opening her door, he was quite clearly wearing one of lotors shirts with a pair of shorts underneath<br /> “Make up is in the same place as always, I’m making hot cocoa”</p>

<p>“You know the way to my heart ro ro” he laughed sitting down on pidges bed and leaning back into her fort of pillows for a second or two before getting up and going to her cupboard. She didn’t have too big of a collection of makeup, she mainly only wore the basics everyday and only wore eye shadow when they went out for a proper night out. </p>

<p>Lance still knew way too much about makeup to make her look good.</p>

<p>Romelle brought the cup to him and put it on the nightstand, she kept hers in her hand so she could lightly sip at it while lance was taking breaks with make up. She got her laptop set up and found movie on netflix that they could just leave in the background</p>

<p>After having been watched so many times lance could recite the lines but it was the perfect background movie.</p>

<p>“You are doing one of the worst jobs hiding that hickey by the way” romelle said as lance started getting out her make up and putting it in the order he was going to use it in</p>

<p>“What hickey” He asked playing dumb opening up her primer and putting it on the cotton pad “I have no idea what you are talking about”</p>

<p>“It’s a huge purple mark on your neck, no matter how much concealer you put on it, I can see it” She said with a slight smirk, she didn’t want to move her face too much. Lance had complained to her before that if she moved her face when doing makeup it would crease and stuff. </p>

<p>“Fine we had a hot make-out session” he sighed focusing more on the makeup than her for a second “One thing led to another and … well you know the rest”</p>

<p>Romelle simply giggled at him “As long as you had fun, I guess”  she shrugged </p>

<p>“What about you and that allura girl, I saw the way you looked at her”</p>

<p>“I mean I just got her number, we just met I don’t think anything is going to happen straight away”</p>

<p>“Wow her number already, player”</p>

<p>“Oh hush hush.’” </p>

<p>“Im serious, that’s really good for you”</p>

<p>“Wow thanks”</p>

<p>When he had finally done her make-up they watched the end of the movie,took a few pictures with the make up and then lance dropped off the sleep. Romelle smiled at him and put the blanket over him before going to take the make-up off her face. </p>

<p>Once It was all off she walked back into the main room bit and checked her phone </p>

<p>Allura ❤️<br /> Hey It’s the girl from the concert, keith gave me the number, this is romelle right </p>

<p>Romelle looked down at her phone and smiled slightly, as if that girl had actually sought out her and her contact details- It’s probably just so they can talk about art but still that brought a slight smile to her </p>

<p>Hey! Yeah it’s romelle, how you doing after the concert you killed it BTW</p>

<p>She wasn’t expecting a quick response so she shut her laptop down and put her earphones in to listen to some music. She brushed her teeth, got a glass of water and got into bed </p>

<p>Allura ❤️<br /> Awwwwwwwww!!!! Thanks, I was kinda nervous TBH, I just moved to the area and keith herd me playing</p>

<p>Oh He’s my neighbour LOL that’s how we met</p>

<p>Romelle smiled preparing herself to probably stay up most of the night talking to this girl- probably not a bad thing</p>

[angelofthequeers]

Ladybug and Reine Nuit: Chapter 21

Kung Food

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

I’m so salty at canon for not giving us the sarcastic/snarky Adrien and Kagami duo that we needed.

@miraculousl4dybug @trainflavor @residentteenidle​ tagged as requested :)

Chapter 20 | Chapter 22

“Thanks for helping me, Kagami,” Adrien says as they approach Marinette’s front door. “I know I’ve been learning Mandarin, but…”

“Yes, I get it, you’re a pasty white kid,” Kagami teases. “You’re lucky it’s one of the languages that Mother wanted me to learn when I was young.”

“How many languages do you know?” Adrien says.

“Japanese, French, conversationally fluent in English and Mandarin, and now Mother’s having me learn Arabic,” Kagami rattles off. “Specifically, the Egyptian Arabic dialect, even if I’m learning MSA for reading and writing.”

“Uh…”

“What?” Kagami raises an eyebrow. “You think you’re the only one who has a parent with high expectations of you? Sorry, Agreste, but I think I’ve got you beat there.” She reaches out and rings the doorbell, and there’s immediately the sound of shrieking and thumping behind the door. A moment later, it’s opened by a wild-eyed, flustered Marinette.

“Alya!” she says. “So glad you could – uh…oh!” She laughs and scratches the back of her head. “Sorry. I’m a mess. What are you guys doing here?”

“Alya called,” Adrien says. “She said you needed someone who speaks Mandarin? Well, here we are! Translators, at your service.”

“Uh…” Marinette looks from him to Kagami.

“I’m more fluent than he is,” Kagami says. “Call it an educational field trip for him.”

“Right. Ah…you must think I’m totally lame, being part-Chinese and not even being able to speak any of the dialects…”

“Not really,” Kagami says. “It’s not as uncommon as you think.” She heads inside with Adrien, who takes the opportunity to look around at Marinette’s house, what with this being his first visit. It’s small – his mansion is probably triple the size of it at least – but it’s nice and cosy and looks lived-in, rather than cold and empty like the mansion or suffocating in lavishness like Chloé’s hotel. The living room has pale pink couches, and the kitchen is a little cramped, and it’s the most beautiful house Adrien’s ever seen in his life, and he would actually sell his soul to live here for just one day.

“Uh…should we go?” Marinette says. “My uncle’s competing in the World’s Greatest Chef tournament at the hotel. We were just about to head out!”

“Gorilla can drive us,” Adrien says.

“Will he mind?”

“His job’s to protect me.” Adrien lets himself smirk. “If I’m with you, he’ll be protecting me, won’t he?”

Marinette giggles, and Adrien would literally do anything to hear it again. “Very true. Let’s go!”

Once they’re in the car, with Adrien sitting in the front to allow Marinette and Kagami to sit in the back on either side of Marinette’s uncle, Kagami speaks.

“A pleasure to meet you, Cheng Shifu,” she says in Mandarin. Adrien can understand her, sure, but it takes his French brain a few seconds to process and translate. In the meantime, she’s moved on. “Is this the first time you’ve visited Paris?”

“Oh, I came once before thirty years ago,” Master Cheng replies. “You speak Mandarin fluently.”

Kagami bows and replies, “Thank you, Cheng Shifu. My mother wanted me to learn it.”

“I speak a little,” Adrien says in Mandarin slowly, paranoid of making a mistake after Kagami’s smooth conversation. “Not as good as Kagami.”

“Ah. My French is very bad.” Master Cheng suddenly switches to French. “Not like your Mandarin.”

Adrien, Kagami, and Marinette blink at the same time.

“I thought you couldn’t speak French,” Adrien says.

“Me too!” Marinette says with a self-deprecating giggle.

“Oh, no, not good,” Master Cheng says. “My French is very bad.”

At the hotel, they’re greeted by André Bourgeois while Alec Cataldi commentates from nearby. Adrien’s totally unfazed by the cameras and the crowd, but Marinette looks way out of her depth and Kagami’s shoulders are rather stiff as she holds herself tall. Adrien wants nothing more than to grab Marinette’s hand and squeeze it to reassure her, but that would be the silliest move with all the cameras and people around. The last thing he needs is to start rumours that she’s his girlfriend.

Not that he would be opposed to the idea. But that’s not really his call to make.

“Cheng Shifu, what dish will you be honouring our panel with today?” Alec says, appearing next to them in the blink of an eye. Adrien, the first to gather his wits, quickly translates for Master Cheng.

“My dish is Celestial Soup,” Master Cheng replies.

“Wow! I've heard so much about your legendary Celestial Soup, but today we'll actually get to taste it!” Alec says.

“Would you like me or Adrien to accompany you, Cheng Shifu?” Kagami asks in Mandarin.

“No thank you, Kagami,” Master Cheng replies. “Cooking needs no words.”

As her uncle follows Alec to the kitchens, Marinette turns to Adrien and Kagami and says, “Thanks for this, you two. I’m totally sorry I bothered you for nothing. I really thought he couldn’t speak French!”

“Hey, it wasn’t any problem,” Adrien says. “I’m always happy to help you, Marinette.”

Everything’s all well and good until a certain blonde mosquito shows up.

“Ah, it’s my favourite person in the world, Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Chloé sneers at Marinette. “I mean, seriously? Does your uncle really expect to win the contest with a soup? It’s not even a main dish! Please! Doesn’t he know how to make sushi like everyone else?”

“Confusing Chinese and Japanese people?” Kagami says, crossing her arms with a stony face. “I’m not surprised, from someone as blonde as they come.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Chloé crosses her arms as well and leans into Kagami’s space, smirking. “Oh, did I hurt your feelings? I’m sorry. I tend to get like that when people I don’t like crowd my Adrikins.”

Adrien clenches his fists. Why is Chloé so adamant that he’s going to come crawling back to her? Is she really that self-centred that she doesn’t see that he’s got other friends? Or is she just in denial? Before he can tear into her, Kagami beats him to it.

“Marinette, are we holding a gun to Adrien’s head and making him be our friend?” she says. Marinette pretends to think.

“No! I don’t think we are!” she says. “Wait, are we constantly throwing ourselves on him and threatening him that we’re his only choice of friends?”

“I don’t believe so.” Kagami and Marinette exchange smirks.

“Hmph!” Chloé flips her hair. “Well, you should know that I’m on the jury. Your uncle won’t be getting my vote, that’s for sure!”

“Well, he doesn’t need your vote to win!” Marinette says. “There are other judges with much better taste than yours! Huh, silly me, you don’t have any taste! I mean, you can’t even pick the right makeup for your features!”

Kagami’s smirk widens as Chloé snarls and stomps off in a huff. “And that’s the match to Marinette. Nice work.”

“Thanks!” Marinette says. “Let’s go sit down and wait for the judging!”

.

Adrien smells a rat. Or maybe it’s the soup. Either way, when the judges start spluttering and spitting out their soup and Chloé doesn’t even taste it, he’s immediately on guard.

“Uh, I don't think this soup would fare well with our guests!” André says and holds up a dinner plate with three stars. “I'll give it a three out of ten.”

“Seeing as it's pretty unappetising, maybe I'll pass on the tasting.” Chloé holds up a blank plate. “But I'll still give it a zero!”

“Ugh! It's like kissing the singer from the Zombeats!” Jagged Stone gags. “Negative zero!”

“I'm sorry, but it's inedible,” head chef Marlena Césaire says. “I give it a one out of ten.”

Alec also gives it a zero, giving Master Cheng an average score of point eight out of ten. Adrien despairs for Marinette’s poor uncle, but when Chloé stands up and walks off with a smirk and a purple petal falls onto the table, his despair turns to sheer rage.

“You see that?” Marinette points at the petal. “That brat’s got something to do with this!”

“I’d like to say you’re wrong, but after everything she’s done lately?” Adrien seethes. “I’m sure it was her.”

“She can’t even accept her defeat,” Kagami says coldly. “What a pathetic coward.”

They notice Master Cheng leaving the room with slumped shoulders, and Marinette runs after him. Adrien and Kagami arrive just as Master Cheng is saying, “Shame is on Celestial Soup. I will never be World's Greatest Chef!”

“No! Uncle Cheng!” Marinette starts to follow him, but she stops herself after a moment. “Oh. Losing face in China is shameful, isn’t it? My mum told me that once.”

“You’re right,” Kagami says. “Giving Cheng Shifu some time alone is the best thing you can do.”

“Some time alone” seems to constitute akumatisation, judging by how the sound of Chloé screaming from the dining room pierces the air only minutes later. The three of them exchange startled looks.

“I’ll go and check on my uncle and make sure he’s not…” Marinette leaves the sentence hanging as she dashes off around a corner. Adrien and Kagami, meanwhile, investigate the dining room, only to find Chloé surrounded by the judges while her father holds her in a death grip. When the judges turn to look at him and Kagami in unison, Adrien notices that their eyes are now orange with yellow pupils.

“Good idea, Hawkmoth!” says a large man with a chef hat on his spiky blond hair, black skin, a sleeveless orange suit, and red and white face paint. Okay. Whoever Hawkmoth is, he must be just as much of a damn anime nerd as Adrien is, except that Adrien wouldn’t even dream of doing something like…this. The man points at Adrien and Kagami. “Seize them! Ladybug and Reine Nuit require incentive!”

“Hey, I’m incentive enough for Ladybug!” Chloé snaps. Before Adrien and Kagami can react, they’re grabbed by Jagged Stone and Marlena. When the akuma marches to the elevator, the three prisoners are dragged along with him; once on the roof, Chloé is tied up above the pool, hanging from a makeshift pulley system, while Adrien and Kagami are bound and tossed onto poolside deck chairs. With a little wriggling, Adrien manages to pull his phone out of his pocket and tap to start a livestream on the Ladyblog, then angles the camera towards the akuma.

“Cut off all exits!” the akuma orders, summoning large cauldrons of orange liquid from his food bag. His possessed servants grab the cauldrons and pour the liquid down the sides of the hotel; it looks very sticky, judging by how slowly it trickles down.

“Sorry you got roped into this,” Adrien says as the akuma’s servants start to add summoned ingredients to the pool water to turn it into a yellowish soup. Kagami death-glares him.

“For your health, I’m going to choose to believe that wasn’t a deliberate pun,” she says. “But I don’t see why you’re apologising. You couldn’t have known this was going to happen.”

“You are going to taste Kung Food’s soup!” the akuma says to a recording drone. “Everybody will become my servants, and Kung Food will become World’s Greatest Chef!”

“Kung Food?” Adrien stares at the akuma and his hideous outfit. “Wait, is Hawkmoth a weeaboo or something?”

“You’d think I’d be used to people like him just acting like Chinese and Japanese cultures are interchangeable because we’re both East Asian,” Kagami says flatly. “Clearly, I underestimated my capacity for rage.”

“And really, making him look like a cross between Naruto and Dragon Ball Z?” Adrien says. “Neither of them even have anything to do with food!”

“I’m guessing Hawkmoth saw that he was Asian and decided that that equals anime,” Kagami says. “Because as you said, Adrien, he is a weeaboo. If anyone Naruto-runs after this atrocity, I’m going to throw myself off this rooftop.”

On the screen of the drone that Kung Food is watching, Adrien catches sight of the tiny figures of Ladybug and Reine Nuit in the lobby of the hotel. A purple butterfly mask outline appears over Kung Food’s face for a few seconds.

“Superhero flavour will make Brat Soup even more powerful! You!” Kung Food points at Jagged Stone. “Go capture them!”

“Yes, Master Kung Food!” Jagged Stone runs off…Naruto-style.

“Uh, Kagami, let’s not do anything rash,” Adrien says cautiously when Kagami eyes the railing.

“Death would be better than this pain.”

“If you die, you can’t stab Hawkmoth when Ladybug and Reine Nuit finally find out who he is!”

Kagami pauses, then slumps in her deck chair. “For once, you said something wise. Fine. I’ll live for now.”

.

“I spy something yellow and orange –”

“Kung Food,” Kagami says. “Like the last two times. Why are we even playing this game, anyway?”

“Because I thought it’d be more exciting to be a hostage,” Adrien says. “But we’ve just been sitting here for the last half an hour. I’m bored.”

“Tragic,” Kagami deadpans.

“At least your hair isn’t totally ruined!” Chloé snaps. Adrien ignores her. “Oh, come on, Adrikins! Why haven’t you come crawling back to me yet?”

“Uh, because I have other friends?” Sure, Adrien’s supposed to not be on speaking terms with her right now, but it’s not like he’s got anything better to do.

“What, so you just dropped me the minute you went to school? Like I’m nothing?”

“I never wanted to drop you. But considering that you bully everyone else, I didn’t have a choice.”

“I wonder how long it’ll take her to realise that you’re still live-streaming this,” Kagami mutters.

“Ah, temperature is just right,” Kung Food declares. “Time to add main ingredient!”

At his words, Chloé starts to descend into the soup. “Nononononononono!” she cries, while Adrien grimaces and looks away because he may not be friends with her anymore, but he doesn’t exactly want to see her boiled alive. But in a fraction of a second, there’s a flash of silver out of the corner of his eye and then Chloé is plummeting, into the soup if not for a blur of red snatching her up and landing on the other side. “Ladybug, what took you so long? Just wait until I tell everyone –”

Ladybug ‘accidentally’ drops Chloé. “Oops,” she says innocently, while Kagami snickers.

“Uh, you two seem fine over there,” Reine Nuit calls as Ladybug tries to reason with Kung Food. “Just…sit tight, yeah?”

“Sure, now that there’s finally action to stream,” Adrien says, bouncing in anticipation. Kagami raises her eyebrow at him. He just grins back sheepishly, then whips his head back around to take in the action as the heroes charge Kung Food. “Finally! Thank god I’m not on YouTube anymore.”

“Are YouTube comments really that bad?” Kagami says.

“Put it this way: the comments telling me to kill myself were the mildest ones.”

Kagami blinks, then seems to make the decision that she’d really rather not know.

“Ow!” Reine Nuit yelps when she gets red dust blown in her face after reaching for Kung Food’s chef hat.

“Haha! Like it spicy?” Kung Food says.

“Should we provide a running commentary for the Ladyblog?” Adrien says.

“It would feel more productive than just sitting here like a useless hostage,” Kagami says. Her eyes widen when Kung Food pulls a humongous pizza sword out of his food bag. “Buon appetito, I guess?”

“Lucky Charm!” Ladybug catches a cheque machine.

“You know, I was about to laugh at how ridiculous that is, but then I remembered that Ladybug’s had weirder Lucky Charms before,” Adrien says. “I remember the first ever one she got was a wetsuit!”

“Cataclysm!” Reine Nuit says as Ladybug wraps a long strip of cheque paper around Kung Food, pinning his arms to his side. She slashes his food bag, making his pizza sword dissipate, and knocks him to the ground, allowing Ladybug to grab his chef hat and free the akuma.

“Your days are over, little akuma! Time to de-evilise!” Ladybug catches the dark butterfly with her yo-yo, then purifies and releases it. “Bye, bye, little butterfly!” She throws the cheque machine into the air and cries, “Miraculous Ladybug!”

Adrien stretches when his bonds are dissolved by the ladybug swarm, then snatches up his phone to catch them as they envelop the hotel to get rid of the sticky yellow substance coating it.

“Pound it!” Ladybug and Reine Nuit declare. As Ladybug comforts Master Cheng, Reine Nuit waves at Adrien.

“Heya, Ladybugreste!” she says. “Love the new blog, by the way! Too many YouTube comments telling you to go kill yourself?”

“Eh, those were the tame ones,” Adrien says, trying not to throw himself off the rooftop in sheer joy at the fact that one of his idols keeps up with him. “And the site kept nuking my videos for graphic violence.”

Reine Nuit snorts, then grins at Kagami. “You got tangled up in this? You might wanna be careful or you’ll end up an adrenaline maniac like Agreste here.”

“There’s a difference between me and Adrien,” Kagami drawls. “I have more than one brain cell.”

Reine Nuit gives a long, loud laugh as Adrien glowers at a smirking Kagami. The cat hero then salutes with her beeping hand. “Later, weirdo.”

Ladybug helps Master Cheng to his feet, then waves at Adrien and Kagami and swings her yo-yo. “Bug out!”

.

“Master Cheng's delicious Celestial Soup has received the highest marks overall, making you the final winner!” Alec announces after the jury has tasted the soup in Master Cheng’s recompense round. Adrien, Marinette, and Kagami beam at each other and give a round of applause. Nearby, Chloé is scowling with her arms crossed, no doubt still sulking after Adrien’s jab about her getting kicked off the jury for sabotage.

“Ah, and it will soon be the Mayor's Special on the restaurant menu of my prestigious hotel!” André says, taking another sip.

“Rock ‘n’ roll!” Jagged Stone bellows. “I can’t wait to get home and write a song about soup!”

Master Cheng bows to the judges and says, “Thank you, but no longer Celestial Soup. Now called Marinette Soup.”

Marinette gasps, while Adrien and Kagami clap harder. “Thank you!” she stammers in Mandarin. Her accent is appalling, but it’s still understandable.

“You’re welcome,” Master Cheng smiles.

“Come over here and stand alongside your uncle, the World's Greatest Chef!” Alec says to Marinette. Adrien nudges Marinette, who dashes to hug her uncle, and Adrien’s heart skips a beat because with that dazzling smile on her face, Marinette has never looked more radiant than now.

“You’re a lost cause, Agreste,” Kagami smirks.

“Shut up, Tsurugi,” Adrien shoots back automatically.

[baskervilleshund]

4,5 years of Gotham in my life♥

Wow my emotions these last days. I’m not much of a text poster on this site but when Gotham ended I really felt I wanted to write this!

Gotham has been a huge part of my life for so long now. 4 years and 7 months since the first episode aired, that’s some time gosh. And so much has happened during this journey! I just wanna mention some memorable things during these years. Like remember the pre-s02x09 excitement?? And other stuffs, ah here we go!

The first trailer made me SO EXCITE, I had wanted more batman villains content for years since I have always found the batman villains squad so interesting and good and unique characters, there is so much to explore here! And so the Gotham trailer came and I just OH MY GOD this is exactly what I want!! And so it started and it was amazing. My first love was Ed, it took him his first scene in ep1 to make me go totally THIS IS MY FAV! More eps went on and I required more Ed content. But then Oswald slowly grew on me kinda out of nowhere like I wasn’t expecting it. And when amazing ep7 aired it just hit down on me from the sky, like it does when I know I got a new obsession/fandom. Oswald’s amazing scenes in ep7 and I went ”Okay this is it, I’M DEEP INTO THIS NOW AND I LOVE IT!”. In exactly THIS↓ scene/moment I basically said those words out loud and realized this is my life now, ugh also one of my fav looks I miss the bangs:

Shortly after ep7 I started shipping Nygmobblepot, since we knew who these characters were and who they will end up being it made SO much sense in this show, they were like the two familiar main villains in kinda the same age and I also loved them both so I mean it was obvious for me. Man in the beginning we were so very few in the shipping Nygmob pond, in the OCEAN of Gobblepot. It was a bit of a struggle sometimes, ppl wrote hate on my Nygmob posts n stuff shrug. And I just didn’t get how not more ppl could see it? It would make more sense if this were new characters like they hadn’t even met but since we knew this is Riddler and Penguin it just was fate for them to cross paths soon enough! We needed Nygmob content! I started making tons of my own AU:s since if the show wouldn’t give us content I would do it.

BUT we had Robin & Cory with us! Reminder that Cory invented the shipname after 5 minutes and Robin & Cory’s amazing twitter activity during s1 especially I will always remember as a fav. Remember when they we’re so into roleplaying Nygmob and spoke how Ed & Os loved each other and all sorts of things. All about going to The Foxglove together and stuff. Ugh it was amazing, I miss their interactions.  

In this very smol pond is when one day my shining star @conscience-killer (aka okimi79)  approached me, with this ♥ ”Sometimes I feel we’re the only Nygmobblepot shippers in the world…well apart from Robin and Cory. We should have a secret handshake or something.”

And man did we get a secret handshake! Gosh MY DEAR OKIMI! That I up til this day since then has spoken with like everyday for 4,5 years, you are amazing ♥ And in that time of so few shippers it felt even more special, to have  someone else out there as obsessed as me. I’m so grateful we found each other at exactly that time and we’ve been through so much on this journey ♥.

When Nygmob in spring finally had their first scene it was so amazing and I have no idea how many times I have watched that scene to this day, and also with that the ship grew a bit yas!!

Let’s jump forward a bit. NYC Comic Con 2015 in fall, one of my fav Robin & Cory cons/interview times! Because the legendary ep 2x9 was soon upon us and OMG remember how excite they were in those interviews!?! And THEN, that fkn night THE episode aired. I couldn’t believe it was real, it was EVERYTHING we had dreamed of!!! SO MUCH NYGMOB CONTENT and so in character and gosh. Man their season 2 relationship is just so beautiful and I love it til this day and 2x9 is forever my favorite episode because it meant EVERYTHING for us shippers and more people also started seeing the connection between Nygmob and so more ppl started to make content and join in!

A time after another shining star came into my life, @constant-sinner (aka (riddlelvr) ♥ This amazing person and artist! And together with her and okimi I am part of the best trash family of three and I can’t believe I’ve been a mom (yet i’m the youngest but i’m fashion fur coat mom okay) to these trash sinners for like 4 years. ♥

Okay but remember all INSANE SMAYLOR CONTENT BEFORE SEASON 3!!? Man that was also one of the best times I had during these years. God they were so excite for their relationship in s3 and WEREN’T WE ALL! And omg Comic Con. I had my fkn header for 3 years soon lol, man that moment I remember seeing the signing booth stream all casual and Robin & Cory goes “Smaaylor!! Nygmobblepot!!! ;))” And I’m just wait WHUT omg. Their press tours with Sean is something I’ll miss even more than the episodes, always such a joy seeing those three together!

And when season 3 started it was just insane. To be honest how their relationship grew in s3 that’s how I expected it to grow after their meeting in s1, it made sense already back then. Ed admiring Oswald and sneaking to his club and Oswald would be a huge part of Ed’s journey to become the Riddler but ah well, I did my best with my AU:s back then!

And then s3 came and Gotham EXPLODED and I had no idea where all million ppl suddenly came from lol. It became huge. But since it still feels kinda close to this day (2,5 yrs though man), my most nostalgic feels will always be over s1-2 so I’m not gonna write so much about the season 3-5 times in this text. My closest to heart milestones is during the first years and now that I’ve seen all episodes I still think season 1 is the best overall, except the lack of Nygmob content ofc ;)

I’ve not just felt love for the show ofc, the show isn’t perfect. There has been serious flaws and bad writing and plot drops. Tbh s4 I just felt so NOPE about? 22 eps of waste…Like Ed’s plot for example like he barley had his own plot what happened? And we also have the q*eerbait Nygmob issue obviously. I have also felt the show has been a bit childish being -helloo- GOTHAM city we’re talking about? I think it would have been much better off with a MA-rating tbh to properly tell certain stories. After s4 though I’m glad in s5 Nygmob finally got some proper screen time being together and in character!! Like that’s how their relationship should have been from beginning of season 4, or season 1 if u ask me lol but ya know!

BUT I LOVE THIS SHOW, the amazing actors and characters and scenery and costumes!! Ed, Oswald, Robin & Cory will ofc always have the most special place in my heart ♥ The Nygmob journey in the show has meant so much to me to follow it from day one and I never knew how much this show would mean to me when I started back in the day.

This show. And not just the show itself but my journey and life around it!!? So much has happened. For one example I had made a bit of gifs before but Gotham really got me into gif making, and it’s been a joy sharing content and my Nygmob AU will always be among my most fun things I’ve done, it was like if they ain’t gonna give us enough content I WILL. It’s a fun way of gif making to manip scenes to create something new! And today I still enjoy making gifs, as you probably know heh. Thanks so much for all nice comments and reblogs through all these years ya’ll!! It warms my heart and I love to read reblog tags! 

I have been at con and got to meet Robin, enjoyed so many interviews and promos, chatted with wonderful people. Every Friday night I have been up in my Europe timezone at 2am to live watch the show, the workdays after has been a bit of a struggle of being tired with going to bed like 5am lol but man it’s been so nice to follow it when it airs!

Watching together with my dearest @conscience-killer and @constant-sinner . Two of the best that happened to me during these years. These two people that I’ve spoken with like everyday for 4 years! Through Gotham finding two of my dearest friends in my life. Watching the show together and screaming, crying, laughing during this journey, about not just the show but EVERYTHING in life. They also are amazing writers and artists ♥ And also helped me endless times with gif caption when my non-native brain trying to write gif captions at 3am after the episode lol. All my love to you both ♥

THANKS TO ALL AMAZING PEOPLE that impacted me over these years. The cast and nice fandom people! My dearest @conscience-killer and @constant-sinner. And I also wanna mention dear @millicentcordelia and @selene-volturo that are amazing ppl that have been here with me since the very beginning of season 1. And they have always been so down to earth even during the stormiest periods of this show’s existence ♥ I’m so glad we’ve shared this LONG journey!

And also hugs to my dear mutual fandom friends that I’ve shared hours of conversations with over the years. Some of us maybe don’t speak as much nowadays and some of us have gone separate ways with new interests but I hope you know who you all are, regardless if we spoke yesterday or 2015. You have made my fandom time a joy!

I’m actually okay with the show ending now you know. Ofc it’s a bit sad but as I said I felt s4 was kinda stomping around in the same spot and even s5 had some fillers like they didn’t have more to do to push the story forward? The last ep was a nice easter egg wrap up for this LONG journey. And I mean shows live on with fan content, and who knows maybe it will return somehow? But it feels good they told us it would end so I was prepared for this and to say ”goodbye”. But it’s not goodbye because content will continue on this site and I’ll continue re-enjoy this show!

This is 4,5 years. In 2 pages, I could prob write 20 but ah, but i felt I got to to summary the most important things for me over these years ♥. This show and stuff that came with it will always be such a big part of my life, ALL LOVE AND HUGS!

[dracimexidae]

URL music game

rules: spell out your URL with song titles and tag some friends

I was tagged by @doedreamss (thank you, dearie!! <3 )

Since I already did this game once with my main blog URL, I hope you won’t mind me doing this with my Black Sails sideblog (which is rather abandoned atm but I promise I haven’t forgotten it and I’ll start posting there again eventually  I don’t know to whom I talking to maybe the 2-3 people who follow me both here and there lol)... the name is also longer, so more songs yay (as if you were asking that lmao)!! ;)

Andante, andante - Lily James (Mamma mia! 2 OST) // all right, I didn’t mean to return to my Mamma mia! obsession phase - it was bad enough when the first movie got out - but I got to listen to one song (which was not this one, but another song about a student kissing her teacher, rather creepy if you think about it but the music is so engaging it’s still stuck in my head, damn it) by chance and started roaming through the soundtrack of this sequel (which I haven’t seen yet tbh, actually by choice since I already know a thing about the story that upsets me a lot, but I guess I’ll eventually watch it because the songs aren’t bad, though I’ve had the impression that the level of silliness is not even close to the first movie and that’s what I actually enjoyed about it in the first place :p ) and I got to listen to this song and :’) - I’m not even one for love songs but this is so sweet and warm and intimate and Lily James’ voice is delightful so yeah, another one bound to be stuck in my head for days! also it doesn’t help that I’ve been thinking about Philinda slow dancing to this song I have a HUGE problem

Never give up on your dreams - Two Steps From Hell // HA, my mandatory TSFH mention when I talk about music! XD (and be grateful it’s the only one as I tried to make the list varied) One of my favourites (mh, I say that A LOT regarding TSFH but oh well :p ), so moving and epic and heart-lifting, I’m undone whenever I listen to this, like, I can’t function, it’s almost too much for me! :’)

Amazing grace - J2 (feat. Chelsea Caroline) // Oh, I love J2′s covers of songs, they’re so badass!! This is a more pop-rock/epic rendition than the usual hymn, but I find it great, and the singer’s voice is powerful and rich!

Taking the hobbits to Isengard - Erwin Beekveld // I legit have this song in my music playlist - I mean, how could I not?! XD This will NEVER be outdated and not legendary!! 

I’ve no more fucks to give - Thomas Benjamin Wild. Esp. // About this song I’m just going to say LIFE GOALS!!! This is the level I aspire to achieve hands down!

Only happy when it rains - Garbage // I blame the Captain Marvel soundtrack for bringing back this song, which rocks and sometimes is also a BIG mood!!

Northern lights - Gaelic Storm // aaaaaaand Gaelic Storm is another band that tends to pop up when I get to speak about music! I love, love, LOVE this song, it’s so touching and enchanting and soothing and, dare I say, romantic... <33

One day - Hans Zimmer // catch me crying whenever I hear this goddamn piece... especially the godforsaken end, man... you know the scene when it plays... ;_______;

Fat bottomed girls - Red Hot Chilli Pipers // whoo hoo, catch me headbanging and dancing all around at this!! I love the original song, of course, but this version with BAGPIPES!!!!!!!! INSTANT LOVE, it was!!!! (well, it does good on my self-esteem a bit as well, since I think I can consider myself a part of this “category” of ladies celebrated by the song ;) )

Today we rise - Luke Youngblood (Galavant OST) // have I begged you today to watch this show??!!  This is one of my absolute FAVOURITES in the whole soundtrack and I get to sing along proudly every chance I get (which happens basically when I’m alone, since I have to skip this soundtrack while I’m outside in public because if I listened to it I would surely start smiling and giggling like an idiot and people would certainly think me mad) ... lol, Sid always complained about never having the opportunity to do a proper performance and in the end he was given one of the most brilliant songs to sing!!! :D I’m almost, ALMOST tempted to follow him into battle - surely I’ll sing the hell out of it until the end, only to likely hide with the other peasants because well, once you think about what you’re singing you’re not exactly encouraged to pursue!! XD

Helvegen - Wardruna // wow, this song always sends me chills down my spine, so haunting and enchanting!!!

In the end - 2WEI // I blame AOS season 6′s trailer for making me listen to this, although I already heard other pieces of 2WEI... What can I say, I’m rather drawn to epic covers of songs (although I still love the original song to bits)...

El tango de Roxanne - Ewan McGregor, Jacek Koman, José Feliciano (Moulin Rouge OST) // I rewatched the movie not long time ago and this song never fails to fuck me up, I always arrive at the end choked up... I love the soundtrack of this movie!

Vespertine (My crimson bride) - Kamelot // Can’t explain why, but this song, rather than being a fucking WONDER, has also been an anchor for me when my grandmother died... I don’t know really why it kept playing in my head during that period, but it was actually a soothing balm for my wounded heart and my broken thoughts, so I’m really grateful to it for keeping me steady (well, as steady as I could have been in that circumstance)... I love this song (and its album) to bits!!!

Everybody needs somebody to love - The Blues Brothers // This song (and its soundtrack and movie) is a sure antidote to sadness for me, nothing more to say!!

Sailing for adventure (on the big blue wet thing XD) - Muppet Treasure Island OST // let’s end on a VERY serious note, shall we?! Yep, I totally have this song on my phone and every time I listen to it I feel like I could embark on a ship and sail away! (though I’m rather sure I’d end up joining the two “figureheads” singing “should have took the train!” because I may get sea sick or something XD ) Can we appreciate the human actors singing along though?! Well, apart from the marvelous Tim Curry, of course...

I’m tagging (always, if you haven’t done it before and feel like it <3) @whitestnoise, @thelifeinmyshadesofgrey, @tirairgid, @queen-of-love-and-beauty, @valentinaonthemoon, @mednay, @ennaih ... Oh, I don’t know really, whoever wants to do this!! :)